#I just crawled into bed and ugly cried | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starry-fame · 2 months ago

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18+ Overboard [Caleb x Gender Neutral!reader/MC]

Summary:

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

Like a moth to a flame, you follow.

Tags: Smut, Pining, Confessions, Porn with feelings, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Body Worship, Penetration, Rough Sex, Begging Ambiguous Genitalia!reader/MC, Gender neutral!reader/MC

Word Count: 11,734

Author's Notes: I posted this a while ago on ao3 and wanted to try tumblr as well! I can also post silly MC stuff and character edits haha. Anyway, I hope Caleb lovers enjoy! Also, certain parts technically aren't canon as of A World Underneath release, but that's okay :')

Ao3 Check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill!

Masterlist

Sequel - Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

It burns.

The air’s filled with plumes of smoke, darkened to an ugly red clouded in ash. It waters your eyes and fills your lungs with soot, wracking you with dry coughs that destroy your throat. It’s hot — so hot — your body feels heavy. You’re crawling — you think? But the ground seems to slide beneath you, and your palms scrape against the concrete, bloodied.

Though your ears ring a terrible, destitute tune and your chest cries in agony — the only thing your mind screams is to get away. Run. Crawl. Slide. Drag your useless limbs and get away. You have to run; stand up and run but your body just lays there.

It’s coming. You can’t get away — you’ll die. You don’t want to die. Shelter’s right there. So close — so close. You drag past a mangled, severed arm, and instantly retch. But you keep moving. So near. Right there. But the sound of inhuman dragging grates your ears behind you and—

Your eyes shoot open, body doused in a sheen of sweat and heart ready to burst. The sheets feel far too sticky and clammy under your fingers and you’re quick to peel them off — rid yourself of anything that makes you feel hot. Confined.

One breath, two, three… it takes a moment to gather your bearings. You’re not freshly seven drowning in a sea of pain and desperate tears. You’re in your childhood home, resting on your sheets and surrounded by memories of the past.

Seems that no matter how much time passes, your dreams will always find a way to torment you as though you lived them yesterday.

What a mood-killer. You’re finally in your old home after an extended absence, and all your mind can do is taunt you by conjuring up your darkest memories.

The room’s bathed in darkness — a glance at your watch shows it’s late in the middle of the night. Not exactly time to rise, but you’re not so trusting of your dreams either. The sweat that dampens your brows and the front of your shirt feels disgusting, so you fan yourself mindlessly. You have to do something, be anywhere but here.

You’re quick to stand, stumbling a little from the sudden shift in gravity. Your eyes are still bleary, crusted, and you rub at them as you trudge out your room.

The house is dead silent, which only makes the sound of your footsteps more apparent, has you silently wincing at every step. Still, you do your best to move quiet as you can to the fridge. Grab yourself a water and chug about half of it in one gulp, cooling your clammy skin and ridding that feeling of scalding — of hot ash coating your throat. You enjoy the crinkle of the cool bottle in your grasp, how the mundane, predictable noise reminds you of reality and the now.

The incessant buzz of crickets in the distance is almost calming. The house is otherwise tranquil and calm. Peace and — you hear a quiet thump. Okay, not as quiet as you thought. Setting the bottle down, you slowly turn toward the noise, reminding your quickening pulse that unless your hunter’s watch is buzzing with a warning, there’s no imminent danger.

A few footsteps and… a tall figure emerges from the doorway, bending so he can properly fit through. Though he’s doused in shadow and you can only make out the slight glimmer of his two-toned irises, his name naturally falls from your lips.

“Caleb…”

“Thought I heard someone sneaking around in here. Why am I not surprised?” He languidly strides across the moonlit room, pausing to gently ruffle your hair like its tradition; he’s been doing it for so long, it might as well be. Even when you two were little and you had a bit of height on him (he’d prop up on his tip toes to pat your head — it was pretty adorable, in hindsight.) So you can’t bring yourself to swat his hand away as he goes for the fridge to grab a drink of his own.

Instead of drinking, though, Caleb pauses and scrutinizes the water, like it did a personal wrong to him. Before you get the chance to probe his mind, he presses the chilled bottle against your forehead. The cold makes you flinch on instinct and shoot a quick glare at him.

“What was that for?”

“Wake up call. Did you get thirsty in the middle of the night? Or you just can’t sleep?” He raises a brow, wearing a grin coated with worry as he takes a drink. Caleb’s always been terribly perceptive, he seemed to just know when you were having a terrible day or if something was amiss. Whether it was the years you’ve spent in each other’s company or Caleb’s innate sensitivity to human emotion, you have no clue. A mix of both, maybe.

Like always, he watches. You look away.

“Thirsty.”

“Uh huh. And I guess all that thirst’s what made your eyes red. You’re looking a little hot there too. Should I crank up the A/C?” Caleb raises a brow, and you wonder why he even bothers asking when he comes to his own conclusions. He should hardly be able to tell these things in the dark — does he just know? Or are the faint streaks of moonlight through the window just enough to tell him everything he needs?

“It’s not a bad thing to admit when you’re having nightmares, y’know. I mean, when you were a kid, you’d come knocking on my door in near tears and—“

“I get it, Caleb. I don’t need the whole rundown.” You snap, fighting the immediate embarrassment that wells up at your vulnerability and dependence as a child. For how strong you like to deem yourself now, it’s not like that was always the case. You were an easily frightened kid, especially jumpy after the attack. You clung to everyone and everything around you because you lost everything you held dear once before.

“And for the record,” you add, “it was a two way street. I can name a few times you came to my room saying you just wanted to talk. You look like you’d been crying for the past hour.” Right. Seeking solace in one another because you were confused kids who had their lives flipped upside down in a single afternoon.

You and Caleb were friends before the tragedy, neighbors who played together a few times at most. Not best friends, but he was the nice kid down the block you enjoyed spending time with.

When you found Caleb during the Catastrophe, you remember like it was only days ago. Crawling frantically, trying not to collapse from the pain that engulfed your being enough to make your vision swirl. In the makeshift shelter, you saw a few injured adults — some minimal, some fatal, and even fewer children crying tended to by lesser wounded adults. You could barely sit up. Someone tried to offer assistance, you think, but then a kid your size rushed beside you and knelt down, asking if you were okay.

Your ears were ringing and you could barely get a noise out, but you could tilt your head up and see those raven eyes with a hint of amber, full of absolute terror. You whispered his name so hoarse — “Caleb…” and like the turning of a faucet, an ugly mesh of tears and mucus immediately began streaming down your face. The smell of red — death, the sights, your bloodied hands, aching body, screaming heart, all honed in at once. All you could do was sob while Caleb knelt down beside you and cradled your head, tears prickling his eyes. It didn’t take long for you two to break down in one another’s arms.

From then on, you couldn’t help but stick to Caleb like glue. Caleb was the only person you had connected to your old life — the only remaining stability when everything else crumbled to dust. When you were bundled in your room and didn’t even want to talk to Grandma because she was some strange adult whom you now lived with — Caleb would sit in with you. He’d remain as long as he had to, validate every last awful thought you had in your frustrations and soothe you with sweet caresses and gentle words. As embarrassing as it is to recall, as a child, he was your lifeline. Caleb’s the reason you didn’t run away in a frenzy when everything was too much and you felt like you just needed to be away and gone. He’s the reason you were able to eventually adapt to your new lifestyle and warm up to Grandma over time. It’s ridiculous, really, how much Caleb meant and was able to do for you by just existing as himself. Caleb could sit in your room minding his business, and his presence alone was enough to soothe your tired limbs and mind from punching your pillows and recalling every terrible thing that happened that fated day.

He was always there for you, one way or another. It’s just the way it’s always been.

It’d be nice if you had something of an effect like that on him, too.

“Right. Because sometimes a little chat is all you need when you’re not doing so hot,” Caleb says, leaning on the counter and gesturing his bottle to you. Yeah, just like him alright, to flip it around on you even when you try to call him out. Makes it feel like every conversation with him is a losing battle, like he always has the upper hand because he knows just the right thing to say and how to say it.

“Alright, alright. Yeah, I had a nightmare. Happy?” You sigh, resigned at this point. You can’t even really be angry when Caleb’s been nothing but reasonable from the start, speaks out of pure care and concern. Rather, perhaps it’s the fact that he’s always reasonable you tend to get irate.

“‘Course not. It’s not like I like hearing you still get them. But it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of keeping it all to yourself, right?” His eyes crinkle so sweetly, non-judgmental. It’s that look that always breaks you, forces you to spill anything and everything he can pull from you. He never takes advantage, just offers support, so you fall into his trap every time.

“It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I can’t just run to you every time I have a bad dream,” you still utter. It’s weak at best, but you can’t toss all your issues onto Caleb like you did as a child. He lost everything that day too, and he still took the time to comfort and spoil you every single time you sought him out (or he came to you), no matter the day or hour. How many of those times did he cry himself, but choke back the tears just so he could attend to you?

“I didn’t say all that. But it’s not gonna kill you to quit bottling up your emotions, y’know.” The amber in Caleb’s eyes seem to flash, and yours flicker down in turn. Sometimes it feels like he still sees the same seven-year-old you once were, pitiful and dependent.

“I… know that. It’s just….”

A heavy breath leaves Caleb’s nose. He closes his eyes, sits on his words, and opens them with a twinkle of clarity.

“You gonna fall back asleep soon?”

You blink. “Huh?” Caleb doubles down.

“You planning on going back to bed soon? Or what?”

You chew on your lip, trying to gauge the meaning in his words. You pull up nothing, so you decide to just answer honestly. “…Not really.”

“Alright then, keep me company.” Caleb swings around to face the foyer, casting a long glance over his shoulder. “I’ve always been more of a night owl anyway.”

The liar. Caleb’s always been able to get up at the crack of dawn since he was a teen. It’s such an obvious fib, but he says it anyway, shamelessly directing you to his room.

You’ll let him have this one though; swallow your complaints and choose his method. You dip your head and follow him to his room, still decorated with posters of My Life as a Hunter and old-school shooter games he raved over as a kid. Though he grew a passion for piloting after a period, he still had an interest in Hunter shows as an early teen, posters and figures scattered about his room proof as such. You think they existed in attempt to ease the public into the idea of Hunters, hell, even to coerce a few impressionable people in the process. A small part of you always wanted a way to reign in control of your life, to be someone who can do the saving, not sit in tears and wait to be saved. The show just increased your resolve, if anything. Though, you remember a short period where Caleb tried to convince you otherwise.

Eventually, you think he understood well enough to quietly show his support, if only because you weren’t backing down. And it tickles the nose a little, knowing you’re now something he admired with sparkling eyes as a kid.

Like always, he sits on his bed, and you take a spot in the swivel chair at his desk, idly spinning back and fourth. There’s a dim, pale night light to give the room a low glow. It’s easy on the eyes and you can still comfortably make out the ridges of Caleb’s face, his indiscernible expression when he settles and just seems to think.

“…Feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” You murmur, eyes trailing around each and every corner. You well with nostalgia, so much it makes your heart ache, bittersweet.

“Yeah, guess we didn’t get much time once I left. Not soon after you were off getting your Hunter’s license, so we were both pretty busy,” Caleb responds, and you wonder if he feels the same way you do. A tinge of sadness, but serenity at the familiar scene. Getting to sit in one another’s company like you always would in the past.

“Getting used to you not always being around was…” It feels embarrassing to just admit how much you missed him, how empty the house felt without his lively presence. “Hard. Harder than I expected, anyway.”

“It was weird not waking up to Gran’s cooking or your demands, that’s for sure.”

“Demands?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You always act so proper around other people, but not with me and Gran. Everyone needs a place to loosen up, someone you can just be yourself around. And a little selfish.” Caleb’s laugh makes your cheeks warm, though your ears seem to love it. It fills you with various memories and you realize man, you really missed Caleb. When you talk, it’s like you two were never separated. But it’s times like these the feeling of truly getting to see him every day, just be with him, swells in your heart. You sigh, grasp your nightshirt, and peer at Caleb through your lashes because you fear how telling your expression is.

“Then… is it the same for you? Or was it easier to loosen up around your friends?” You ask nonchalantly, as though the question wasn’t gnawing at you from the inside out. Did Caleb feel at home, or like he had to put on a show and be the ‘strong one’, only able to let loose when he’s around peers and not biting off more than he can chew?

“Mmm…” You hear a low hum, and fingers ghost over your forehead, gone before you can even get a noise out. Caleb watches you intently, enough to make you break his gaze first. He looks pleased.

“It’s different with other friends, sure. Because you’re not them, and they’re not you. There’s ways I can relax with them, and reasons I can relax here,” he answers. His gaze feels loaded, and you vaguely wonder if there’s more to that answer with how his eyes bore into you. But you bite your tongue and decide to let the question go unsaid.

“I see.”

Caleb’s gaze persists. It’s gentle, not demanding of anything, or even expectant. But for some reason, it makes you want to turn away so you don’t have to be subject to it.

“I did miss home y’know, pipsqueak.” You wonder if that’s what Caleb was watching for, trying to see if you were silently doubtful. You bite your lip and decide to just let the words spill out before your pride makes you swallow them whole.

“I missed you.”

Caleb’s eyelids widen almost imperceptibly, but you still catch it. He blinks, and they relax with this look that feels fond, but also seems to carry another aspect you can’t decipher with so little light.

The sound of crickets buzz in the distance. The extended silence makes your grip tighten on the arm rest.

“This necklace is nice, y’know. Whenever anyone asks, I get to bring you up. They probably get sick of it after a while,” Caleb murmurs, and he lifts the silver chain you placed around his neck, ruby glimmering in the light. Knowing he kept it, the way he so proudly handles the chain, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You tell other people about me?”

“So much they could probably write an essay. How you’d cling to me as a kid, when we’d hang out together, how, for a short while, we were all the other had.” Caleb squeezes the chain and lets it dangle against his tee, expression gentle, and part of you wishes you had a chain too. Something to remind you of Caleb, an excuse to think or talk about him. To rub between your fingers and recall a time you were both in a fit of laughter, young, happy and free.

“I relied on you a lot. More than you deserved, especially as a kid. …Sorry.”

“Seriously?” Caleb gapes, and a snort leaves his mouth. “Never thought I’d hear that. But you don’t have to—no. I don’t want you to apologize. It was nice. Part of me kinda misses it. I mean I get it, you can handle your own. It’s not like you need me looking after you anymore, but… I liked it. And nowadays, I can’t help wanting to at least support you,” Caleb shrugs, like those words don’t penetrate your core and settle deep in your chest, breath hitching. A million responses swim through your mind, none of them breaking the surface.

“Oh, uh…” It’s… embarrassing, hearing that blatantly said aloud.

“And, to be perfectly clear, I missed you too,” he adds. Your throat bobs. You enjoy hearing those words from his mouth, the way he says them so easily with a hint of affection. While it’s enough to make your body feel flush with embarrassment, it’s nice he’s never too stubborn to show his care. If anything, you’re far more stubborn in admitting your feelings. Perhaps that’s why you told yourself to just say it, not let the pride win and be honest every once in a while.

“It… sucks. I only get to see you for a few days at most and poof, you’re gone,” you gesture along with your words, hastily getting them out while you still have the weak confidence to. “Your cooking, waking up to you everyday, when you get me little snacks just because…” Your legs swing back and fourth, antsy, but your heart feels lighter when you can freely speak your mind, say all the things you were too prideful to say as a kid.

Caleb listens silently with solicitous eyes. His mouth parts, closes again, and he seems to swallow. You time the kick of your legs, so you don’t start kicking them faster while you’re left on the waiting end, mute until Caleb responds.

“It’s pretty dull not having your own personal 5-star chef, huh?” He finally says, with a grin, and you softly deflate. Your legs slow to a stop, and your heart feels heavy again.

“Yeah… I… I guess—“

“No,” Caleb hisses under his breath. You think it’s to himself. But he leans forward on his duvet and reaches up, brushing his fingers over the jut of your eyebrows so light you can barely feel the touch. Your eyes shut reflectively, and his hand eases to your cheek, knuckles gently sliding down. You peek an eye at the sudden touch, trying to not make your mild startle too known. He’s the type to stroke your head or push you away in jest. This brand of touch is new. Foreign.

Your lips tremble and Caleb’s eyes flicker down to them.

“I’d do all those things every day, if I could. Listen to you get ridiculously excited about those rare kitty cards, see you when I get home from work; when you get home from work…” His knuckles trail down to your chin, dangerously close to your lips.

You inhale slowly, and try not to show your panic when your heart begins to beat an erratic rhythm. This is the first time Caleb’s ever made your heart race — like this anyway, and a flurry of thoughts and emotions you never dared consider all invade you at once. If you were standing, you’d stumble on the spot.

“I miss seeing your mug, what can I say?” Caleb laughs, gives your face two playful pats, and retracts his fingers. You withhold the urge to chase them, press his palm against your cheek. Instead, you bite the inside of your cheek to curb the desire.

They’re nothing but strange thoughts in the heat of the moment, a little too drawn in by the touch of his fingers after not seeing him for so long. Equating nostalgia with attraction is not a good look, and you know to smother it in its wisps before it engulfs into a bed of flames.

“When — when we were kids it was kind of like this,” you begin, trying to even out the tremor in your voice. “We weren’t telling each other we missed one another, of course. But I’d sit in this chair. And you’d wipe my tears when I was sad. No matter how long it took.” You say, and you know you’re just making conversation to push your mind away from uncouth thoughts. With luck, Caleb won’t pick up on a thing.

“Yeah, you were a bit of a crybaby. Always barging in, no matter the time, just to have someone to cry to. It was pretty cute, though.” Caleb stands slowly, already no more than a foot in front of you, and he bends down to rest one hand on the armrest while the other palm holds your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye. “Just like this.”

This… feels dangerous. The part of you that automatically reacts to his teasing wants to glare and push his hand away, scoffing and spouting some retort. That’s how you should respond, how he expects you to.

This new, faint part of you wants to close your eyes and lean your cheek into his palm, turn your head so your lips rest on his fingertips. You do neither, and just peer up at him through your lashes, too scared to tilt your head up and have your face reveal every dirty thought racing through your brain.

“It was cute when you’d come to me, too. You’d sit next to me, trying to act all strong. Then I’d pat your shoulder and you’d go ‘I’m not crying’ while you kept wiping your eyes. Couldn’t fool a baby. But it made me happy. That you came to me,” You speak, and reach up to Caleb’s shoulder, giving it a few soft pats. “Just like this.”

Caleb’s fingers dig into the armrest though his face remains moderately amused. He tilts his head, murmurs a “Guess we were both the type to tear up,” with a cryptic smile, and moves to pull his hand away.

Subconsciously, against any rational thought, you chase after him and hold tight to his shoulder, other hand keeping Caleb’s palm firmly in place.

He blinks once, twice. The moment is palpable. You know you can’t explain yourself out of this, but your gut instinct just doesn’t care. It craves to stay in Caleb’s proximity, to keep him by you. Like he’d melt away if you let go, and the moment would be lost to eternity.

“Pipsqueak?” He murmurs, rubbing a curious thumb across your cheek and it’s all you can really take. You feel the way Caleb tenses up when you bury your nose in his palm, when you shakily inhale and just settle into its warmth. You think you’re trembling a little, and fear eats at your racing heart. Fear of shattering the relationship you have — pushing beyond the bounds of your preconceived ‘normal’. This isn’t what you and Caleb are. Caleb calls you an infuriatingly affectionate nickname when he checks up on you. You and Caleb bicker about mindless things and easily make up in a few hours because Caleb always gives in. You and Caleb were friends since you were children, kids who played together, teens who begrudgingly got along, and adults who were still close and made efforts to visit home on your shared time off.

It wasn’t whatever the hell this was. And the guilt that rises in your throat is immense, taking Caleb’s actions to make them something they’re not — twisting his kind gestures into something awful. You force yourself to recede from his palm, mouth open to utter a soft apology.

Just as that soft ‘sorry’ passes your lips, Caleb coaxes your head up, peers long and hard into your eyes, like he’s searching the depths to find whatever it is he seeks, needs.

You think he finds it, because his breath hitches, the hand on your face seems to quiver, and his face leans so close to yours. Not touching, no, his hot breaths ghost over your lips, his nose tickling your cheek. You swallow thickly, and the warmth from his proximity spreads like wildfire.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispers, urgent. Almost desperate, like it takes every ounce of self-restraint to remain as he is. So near but never bridging the small gap.

“I…” You start, knowing this is the tipping point. He’s still kind enough to give you an out, to let you reject any notion of whatever this is and pretend none of it ever happened. Makes it seem like he doesn’t want it to happen. Caleb’s always been kind like that. And maybe, in the long run, it would be the better option. To not risk destroying the relationship you’ve built and nurtured for well over a decade.

But, meeting his pleading eyes with your own, you know the only words that can leave your mouth. It’s the sole thought that repeated over and over in tandem with each shaky sigh that parted from his pink lips.

Slowly opening your mouth, you take the plunge. “I do.”

You don’t know whether Caleb’s face flashes with relief or pain — maybe both — and his lips press so deep into yours, slow and heated. It elicits a quiet, gasping noise from your throat that Caleb swallows. You have to wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself because his kisses are starved, like he’s been craving this moment forever and you wonder if that’s really the case. His hand on the armrest moves down to grasp your thigh and a pleased noise rumbles in the back of your throat, his thumb stroking the inside of it so tenderly you could tremble. The sense of relief, of immediate euphoria of having this man on your lips almost makes you wanna cry as he kisses you senseless, licks his tongue into your mouth and coaxes every soft noise he can with each repeated press of his lips. When your fingers sneak up to his neck, quiet sounds hum in his throat and they envelop your mind, drugging you with the sound and feel of him. You could do this for hours, kiss Caleb until the only thing your mouth knows is the taste of him.

“I can’t believe —“ Caleb gasps between breathless kisses, speaking against your lips and sliding his hand down to rest on the junction of your head and neck. You tremble and he pecks the corner of your mouth in response, as though to soothe you. “You’re actually—“ He kisses at your cheek, then your nose affectionately. You feel the heat rise in your neck and avert your gaze out of pure embarrassment. “Letting me…” He laughs against your cheek, face alight and you hope the pain you perceived earlier is a little lessened now.

“I didn’t know you wanted to…” You murmur, and stretch your neck up again to capture his lips. Somehow, each kiss only seems to improve upon the last, and when his fingers slide against your neck, a quiet moan vibrates in your throat. Caleb pulls back with low lids and ragged breaths, lips pinker than you’ve ever seen and covered with a sheen of saliva. Kiss swollen’s never a look you imagined on him, but you quite like it.

“Guess I’m good at keeping secrets then,” Caleb says in a huff of soft laughter, and he’s gently tugging, guiding your body up and off the chair to sit beside him on the duvet. “Or,” he leans down and pets the front of your throat, lips steady against your fluttering pulse. “You’re just stupidly oblivious.”

“There’s no way I would’ve…” you begin to murmur as your fingers clench on his nightclothes. Your body reacts to the sensation of his lips kissing every bit of skin he can reach on your neck, licking but mindful enough to not leave marks and the consideration alone is hot enough to make you shudder.

Could you have? Your mind is hazy and each time Caleb mouths at your throat you lose it a little more, but you vaguely replay memories in your mind. Caleb’s mindfulness, his perception, his endless kindness — but he’s like that with everyone, so how could you have known you were special beyond your friendship and shared past? Granted you probably got a little extra pampering from him — but you shared a home. Of course you’d get more if you saw him more.

“Good. I was never gonna tell you, y’know,” he breathes. His large hands gently ease you backwards and you comply, letting him press you against the mattress. It smells like a mix of him — that same oak body wash he’s used since he was a teen (thankfully you bullied him out of that terrible smelling cologne phase), and fresh detergent from the laundry he took care of earlier. You resist the urge to turn your head and bury it into the covers, inhale deep, for you’re sure it’d come off as a little strange.

“Never?”

“Never.” He rests his forearms next to your head, face mere inches away. He seems to like watching you, those dimly lit eyes of his boring into you. “I mean, I thought about it sometimes. But we’ve known each other what, sixteen years now? We played together since we were preschoolers,” he sighs, thumb brushing over your cheek. His face is so raw and open, flushed and longing. Like he can finally spill every dirty little secret he’s kept hidden forever. His thumb moves to swipe across your lip and you kiss it — innocently enough. His breath stutters.

Then you open your mouth, gently suck on the digit, and he stops breathing altogether.

“Mm…” You hum in agreement, though with the way Caleb’s eyes darken, you figure it more resembles a moan.

“Damn,” he curses, and experimentally swipes across your tongue. You shamelessly take his thumb in deeper, revel in the way his lips tremble and he bites them, as though to curb some thought or action that sprung in his mind in response.

“You’re friends with someone that long, you figure there’s no chance. Figured you saw me as a brother or something. I mean, I kinda did it to myself,” he speaks, but looks absolutely enthralled by your mouth around his thumb. The way you swirl your tongue around him, encouraging him to just let go. You think his words are half spoken on instinct with how dazed and red-faced he looks.

“Fuck , if I just knew…” Caleb hisses, and he leans forward for balance, forehead pressed against yours (he’s so warm) while his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, resting just below your navel. The proximity to your waistband makes you subconsciously squirm a little, and his hand presses firmer, stilling your hips. “I could’ve done this so much sooner.”

You try to murmur a response past his thumb but the welcome intrusion makes your words incoherent. He gently retracts it from your lips to press against them, saliva coating his thumb, your lips, and wetting your chin.

“What’s that, pipsqueak?” He murmurs. You feel his hand creep up to trace your abdomen, catch at your side and massage there mindlessly.

“For someone who wants to do this so bad…” you sigh, and look up at him, unamused, trying not to let your mild fluster show. It seems even pinned under him, you can’t help but want to be a bit of a brat in his presence. “You’re sure taking your sweet time.”

Caleb’s brow twitches and he completely stills, staring at you with those gorgeous sunset eyes of his up close. You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and his fingers on your torso squeeze, not painful, just a firm hold.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you?” he finally exhales, exasperation plain on his face. He affectionately rubs his forehead against yours, the gesture so sweet it makes your heart swell. “Don’t forget, you’re the one that spurred me on.”

And like a man on a mission, the sweet moment is gone, replaced by greedy lips and needy hands. His mouth is back on yours and you gift him an appeased hum, instantly lost in the warmth of lips and the way he kisses you like he’ll never kiss again. So heated, so, so perfect, and you reach your fingers to tighten in his hair, lift your hips to wrap your legs around his torso. You both sink into the duvet with the strength of his kiss, his hands shamelessly trailing up and down your torso, mapping it out, squeezing when he hears quiet noises and whines emerge from your throat.

You think Caleb enjoys the sounds you make most, because he’ll do anything and everything to draw them out of you, hands frisky and shameless. They’re calloused and rough in the best way and you squeeze his hair in approval, press fleeting kisses to the corner of his lips when you part to breathe. He laughs, happy, and you laugh in turn.

“It’s a little hot, don’t you think?” He murmurs, and uses that as his excuse to push the hem of your shirt past your chest, encourages you to slip your shirt off and sit with your bare torso.

The way he stares at your body, your chest, like there’s nothing else in the word makes your body singe. You reach a hand up to cover his wandering eyes, scoffing. “Don’t just stare, it’s embarrassing.”

“All that talk and you’re embarrassed when I look at you?” He gives your hand a few taps before prying it away, taking in the view just as shamelessly as he did before, if not more so. You’d smack his face with a pillow if he didn’t have your hand held so tightly. “Telling me not to look’s like telling a dehydrated man not to drink. It’s plain cruel,” he laughs, and pulls your hand to his lips to give your fingers a fleeting kiss. Your eyelids flutter alongside your heart, and he grins.

Satisfied with the view, he slides down on the covers (you have to loosen your legs to accommodate), and stares up at you with a playful, shit-eating grin, his chin rested perfectly above your chest. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Don’t ask, do,” you huff, turning your head away in mock annoyance. Caleb’s more than happy to oblige and hums his approval while his hands move to trace the contours of your chest, moves down to press a light kiss to one side, and is quick to focus his mouth where it’s sensitive, have the bud harden under his tongue and send shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

It even surprises you, how much you feel your face flame not just from pleasure, but pure embarrassment. This is Caleb , of all people. Not just some guy you started crushing on. Being this vulnerable and having his lips on your chest isn’t something you imagined even yesterday. If he saw you like this yesterday, you’d definitely die from shame. There’s not a glimmer of regret, but there’s heaps of embarrassment to spare and you bury your face into the pillow under you, tensing the more he plays. You knew nipples could feel good, but wow, they can feel good and his mouth on them sends shocks straight down your abdomen, makes heat settle low between your legs.

Finally, he pulls away, though his thumbs still graze over them, and he moves up to press a kiss to your jaw. “Don’t get all shy now. C’mon, show me that cute face of yours,” he hums, and you want to bury it even further being called cute (seriously, what the hell? You don’t know if it’s more embarrassing or insulting). But if only to show some semblance of control and confidence, you pull your head away and force yourself to meet Caleb’s adoring eyes, giving him a halfhearted glare with lips curled into a small pout.

“Looking at me like that only makes me wanna tease you more,” he murmurs, and moves to kiss your cheek (he’s so affectionate. It’s so much you almost don’t know how to handle it). And his hands slide down from your chest, settle at your waist and massage right above the band of your sweatpants. So close but not enough, the more his thumbs tease the more the heat becomes unbearable.

“Maybe you should use that mouth of yours for something other than talking,” you grumble, palms pushing Caleb’s head away. You huff with a side-turned head and peer at him from the corner of your eye, wiggling your hips. You couldn’t be more obvious.

“Demanding today, aren’t we?” He rubs his hands forward and back on your hips, trailing a slew of kisses down from the center of your chest to your abdomen, leaving flames in its wake. “Like what? I could make out with you until the sun rises, easy.”

The way Caleb looks at you, eyes flashing, you know what he wants. Those words to fall so reluctant from your tongue, to watch you drop your pride and ask. But Caleb’s had his way well enough, so instead of giving him the satisfaction of your words, you slide down your sweats and underwear, exhaling at the lack of restriction, the free air against your throbbing arousal. Caleb’s eyes go wide and you’re dragging his face between your thighs before he can retort, trying not to tremble from the absolute need that courses through your body. The thought of Caleb’s mouth on you, his tongue against you until your mind is numb.

“This.” You breathe, and Caleb can only let out a breathy chuckle.

“Whatever you say, your majesty,” he teases, smug but lets you guide his head, him dragging his hands down with it and across the planes of your thighs. They slide and down, palming close to your hips and earning him a small jolt, a bitten down noise.

Your fingers dig into his short hairs, dragging him down and rolling your hips to meet him halfway, urgent, needing. Caleb complies, gently mouthing at your inner thighs, biting at them (that gets a startled sound out of you that you instantly smother in fear of making too much noise.) And kisses and licks his way further up until he’s exactly where he needs to be, breaths hot and lips so close they could brush over you.

“To think you’re like this already…” he murmurs, cheeks flushed, and he dives his head down to slowly lick you into his mouth, your legs tensing and fingers shivering. His hands pet your thighs soothingly (it only makes you tremble more) and he sucks, holds your thighs so nice while they shake in his touch. He’s horribly slow, taking his sweet time to mouth against you, kiss against your aching heat and so gently take it into his mouth, painstakingly swirls his tongue. It’s not enough and you roll your hips into his mouth, mumbling curses.

“Dammit Caleb…” you groan, urging for more, grabbing and releasing at his hair, and his eyes flicker up to you, pupils blown and face a pretty red.

“Mm…” He hums, you shudder, and try not to burn at the sight of Caleb so pleased between your legs. Hands anchored to your thighs, mouth busy with a hardworking tongue as he eagerly lavishes you with attention. It’s good this time, not slow torture, and Caleb easily lets you rock your hips into his mouth, whine under the flat of his tongue and the sight of him between your legs. He pushes, holds you when you gasp and jerk into his touch and murmurs soothing hums while his mouth is busy on the taste of you. Your hips develop a rhythm of their own, chasing Caleb’s mouth over and over and when he briefly pulls back, he’s quick to stroke his fingers where his lips were, watch you sigh and and clutch at the parts of him you can reach.

“I wanna—“ he breathes, leans down to kiss the swell of your heat, laughs when you jump because of how swollen, how sensitive you are to his every move. You drag his face back down, his lips around you, not letting him finish the words he was trying to say. You just — his mouth — his warmth, you need, and you buck your hips into his touch, bursts of pleasure coming through you in waves the more his mouth moves in rhythm, the perfect pace he sets and the unfair way his tongue seems to do just the right thing to make you whine against bitten lips.

“Caleb,” you whisper, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. Caleb’s tactic changes, he’s using one hand to keep a steady grip on your thigh while the other reaches up stroke at your sensitive hip, then sneaks up to your nipple to tease it under his thumb and forefinger. His mouth remains occupied, tongue and lips unrelenting, and the dual pleasure is so much it almost feels like too much. But he moves, hot, mouth in tandem with your restless hips, confident and warm and the almost unbearable heat between your legs grows and grows, until you’re biting back a strangled noise and digging your fingers into Caleb’s scalp. You hold his head in place while you ride out the throes of pleasure, Caleb’s mouth easing you through it, still pressing and stroking with the heat of his tongue when the orgasm ebbs away. You have to squirm and push Caleb’s head away, panting and soaked in a sheen of sweat.

Caleb’s lips, nose, chin, are coated in you and he shamelessly licks what he can away, watches as you breathe, catch your breath amidst the aftershocks of your pleasure. Your entire body feels flushed with heat, and the only sound you’re capable of making are quiet gasps for a moment or two.

“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, presses a hand over his mouth and he’s scrambling off the bed, rushing to rifle through his drawers. He pulls out a bottle of lube and jerks his head to where you’re still settled on the bed, steadying your pulse. You’ve eased yourself to sit up on your elbows, so you can watch in your curiosity, see what’s got him so worked up. Seeing him still fully clothed while your pants lay sweat-ridden and bunched at your ankles, shirt tossed in some corner makes your face fill with heat.

“Can I—would you—“ he returns to the bed, crawls between your open thighs and presses his forehead to yours. The heat of his breaths make you dizzy, and you can feel the flicker of a flame despite just bursting with heat. “Fuck, I just…” he murmurs, moving his head down to rest against your shoulder, lips pressing against the jut of the bone. And the way his nose presses against you, he nuzzles against you and so dearingly asks makes the answer come far too easy. You inhale, stroke his cheek, and nod.

“Mhm,” you agree, moving your head to press a sweet kiss to Caleb’s temple. He groans, wastes no time coating his fingers and slipping them against you, stroking in a tease, then pressing in one.

It’s cold, you tense and Caleb mouths at your collarbone, murmuring “I got you,” while his fingers sits, letting you adjust and you relax to the chill, shudder to the way the digit settles in you, doesn’t feel like enough, and he moves.

Maybe — you think — you didn’t properly think this through. Because while you’ve a short respite from coming, now you have a finger inside you, a hand exploring every inch of your body it can reach, and lips playing with the soft patch between your neck and shoulder that has you sighing and subconsciously quivering. Somehow it’s all too much and not enough all too soon after — and you actively dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet, not risk sounds traveling through the walls.

“So…” Caleb inhales, his lips travel down to kiss at your chest, lick at your nipples once more and they stand to attention at his efforts. “So damn warm…” You wonder if he means the heat from your body or the way you feel around his finger. His lips tease while his finger thrusts at a steady rhythm and when it becomes comfortable (and lacking). You start to grind into his touch, craving more, shuddering when a soft noise leaves his throat.

You exhale, peer at the pink cheeks of your childhood friend — hell, your best friend. You feel your heart melt, then your body melt in tandem when his finger slips out so he can ease two of them in, slowly stretching you. They move deep, curling inside you and with the just perfect brush of his fingertips, you let out a pitched gasp and pull a hand up to cover your mouth. Caleb doesn’t say a thing, instead makes sure to move against that bundle of sensitive nerves over and over, watches you tense and squirm the more he focuses his attention.

“You’re pretty good at keeping quiet,” Caleb praises, and moves his face up to draw you into a long kiss, mouth in sync with the way he fucks you with his fingers, steady and perfectly bent to leave you panting. You whine against him, chasing his fingers with your hips. He sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a dirty pop, lips glistening. “Can’t wait for the day you don’t have to hold back.”

“Hah—shit…” You curse, wanting to come up with a coherent response but your words catch in your throat, interrupted by gasps, and your mind can’t even conjure what to say to something like that, but you feel your body throb, your hips jump at his praise. Caleb hums, presses a kiss to your cheek, and slides down.

He does that thing where he looks up at you from between your legs, cheek rested on your thighs damp with sweat. His lips curl into that gorgeous, sinful grin that’s stupidly hot and infuriating all at once and you squeeze his hair in half-assed annoyance. He kisses one thigh, turns and sucks a gentle bruise into the other - fuck, why does that feel so damn good. And he busies his mouth with the taste of you, fingers working a slowly building rhythm that has your palm firm over your mouth and the other hand steady in his hair while you try — and fail, to not fall into a haze of pleasure. You almost want to curse, being so weak under his fingers and mouth. Flip the scene and give him a taste of his own medicine. But his tongue knows just what to do and he knows just the way to move his head to have you unable to do anything but let out choked gasps and rut into his eager mouth.

Though you take his fingers easily now, feel prepared enough to handle all he has to offer, he doesn’t stop. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and his pretty, obscene mouth on you fill the otherwise silent room, save for your gasps and sighs. You curl against him and huff, biting your lip and using both palms to still his head.

“If you keep going, I’ll—“ you warn, because his fingers aren’t enough but his mouth is too much, and if you’re left a quivering mess you won’t be able to handle Caleb fucking you on top of it. Caleb hums, his glimmering eyes flicker up to you, and you think they crinkle in amusement. You’ve learned not to trust that face of his.

And of course, the dick , he keeps going. Holds you down with one hand so he can push and spread his fingers deep, taste you on his tongue as he sucks. It’s enough to have you arching your back, whimpering quiet noises into the pillow you bury your face into. Your hips squirm of your own according, the heat pooling in your gut and threatening to burst and you try to push his head away, gasp weak complaints. Too much if he doesn’t stop you’ll — But he’s relentless and overwhelming. Fingers curling, mouth moving, his hand gripping your waist. And your body accepts it all until that feeling crescendos again, you turning into a shaking mess as you whisper quiet curses into the pillow, try to escape his mouth but he licks and pumps his fingers into you all throughout it to prologue how your back arches, the high washes over you over and over. When you slowly relax, he pulls away with a messy mouth, leaving you with breaths labored and somehow still sane enough to sport a glare.

“I told you—“

“Sorry,” he says, and kisses at your navel while he watches you with enthralled eyes, like you’re a piece of stunning art. But his eyes aren’t apologetic in the least, and you’d think it right to demand a proper one if your heart wasn’t thundering so quick you think it’ll leap out your chest. He sighs, scoots up to press a kiss against your chin, and whispers, so quiet. “Can I…?”

You huff, try to steady your breathing, and zone into the dull ache between your legs and the empty feeling from losing his fingers. Of course you want it, want him, it’s a matter of already having been pleasured to hell and back by this man twice. You’re spent, even if the idea of Caleb nude and flushed against you is hot as hell.

“There’s a reason I tried to tell you…” you sigh, brush some slick hairs from his eyes and observe the dazed, greedy look in his eyes. He really just wants it all, doesn’t he? You always thought you were spoiled by Caleb, but maybe, there are times when you spoil him.

“Mmm… it’s just nice, seeing you lose your composure,” he nuzzles into your neck, breath warm and your entire body reacts to something so small, so soft. “But we’ve got all the time in the world. Next time.”

And he exhales so warm, pulls his head away and you immediately grab both cheeks, drag Caleb’s lips to yours and kiss him so sweetly it feels something akin to love. Your hips tingle, and the idea makes you absolutely dizzy, but you mouth it against his lips anyway.

“Finish what you started.”

Caleb doesn’t immediately answer or react, he simply observes you, watches the way your arms cling to him. For good measure, you wrap your legs around him and roll, right into the hard erection confined in his pants. He gasps, gripping the duvet beside your head.

“If… If it’s too much. Just pinch me. Or tap me a few times. Do whatever, really, shit,” Caleb hisses, and he’s finally stripping off that stupid bed shirt of his and tossing it unceremoniously across his room, breaths slow and deep as though to calm himself.

It’s not your first time seeing Caleb shirtless, but it is the first time you’re able to admire the full view in dim glory. Amidst the streaks of moonlight through the window, the red of his necklace sparkles. He wears it, even in his sleep, and you try not to think too much on how he must’ve cherished it. Treated it like a prized possession, because it makes a surge of happiness flood through you with a mix of guilt for never treating Caleb’s gifts or gestures just as precious.

“Oh, so when I stare, it’s a problem. But when you stare, it’s fine, huh?” Caleb chuckles, and his pants are kicked off with no shame. He’s so eager he doesn’t even try to make it sexy, he just looks like he’s dying to feel every inch of you, finally be able to feel the whole of you tight around him. It’s so silly and so Caleb you just have to laugh, and it’s nice when he laughs in turn, makes you feel serene.

“Think of it like payback,” You decide to say. Payback for making you come from his mouth and fingers when he knew you wanted to feel him inside of you. Caleb makes an approving noise, leans back over you, and the sight of his flushed, toned body with his necklace dangling down is way sexier than it has any right to be. He slides a hand up your thigh, gives it an encouraging squeeze when you tremble, and his lips find yours in a fleeting kiss.

“Guess I gotta do all I can to make up for it,” he whispers in a ghost of a kiss, and settles between your legs, erection strained in his underwear and words way too calm for someone who looks like he can’t stand waiting a minute longer. He shoves them down well enough with one hand and he springs free, eager and leaking at the pink tip. You think it’s almost pretty, the way it stands, twitches when you thumb his cheeks.

He captures your lips the same moment he lifts your thighs, lines himself where he had his fingers buried deep only a minute or two ago, and slowly, slowly pushes. Sighs into your mouth as he sinks into you, and you grab at his back, wrap your arms so tight around him as he just fills you, moves as you cling to him. You think the wait alone is torture when he finally settles deep, hips flush to yours and mouth swallowing any weak noises you utter. You’re still so sensitive and even just the feeling of his cock inside, barely moving, is enough to make you clutch at him.

“You feel so perfect,” he utters, shaking hands settled on the sides of your face, lips plush on your jaw. He buries his face in your neck, slowly, slowly moves out, and you can feel his entire body shaking on top of you as he pushes again, deep into you and fills you perfect. So hot inside of you, you can’t help but squeeze around him. He chokes against your skin, kisses at it while his hips steadily draw out—then you think he loses his composure a little. His hips sputter, and his pushes into you quicker, steady, and holy fuck is your body just quivering and you already feel a mess, heat between your legs near unbearable and Caleb’s cock stretching you open for him.

“Caleb…” You gasp, bite back the moans that want to continually spill from your throat while Caleb steadily pumps, in and out. It’s so tender, and even though your body is an absolute mess, you just need more and drag in Caleb with the strength of your legs wrapped around him, helplessly grind into his cock, and Caleb understands the message loud and clear. He shakes, kisses your shoulder, and pulls out to snap his hips against yours, murmurs small affirmations against your skin as he fucks you, heavy and deep and your body is a squirming mess, like it isn’t even your own. You’re whining and biting back every loud, broken noise that threatens to leave your mouth with the rock of his hips.

“Shit—Caleb, it’s—“ you gasp, be hums into your shoulder and looks at you with wild eyes while he pushes into you over and over. Your legs are a mess and you’re gasping, trying to focus on swallowing down the noises in your throat but Caleb’s driving you absolutely insane and when he positions himself just right, you’re letting out a sharp cry and your body arches into his touch.

“Don’t wake the whole neighborhood now.” He coos against your collarbone, and gently covers your mouth, palm flat so all you can do is groan against his hand, weak noises and sharp gasps muffled. Every inch of you feels sensitive, alight, and the hand not silencing you gently massages your chest while he fucks you deep into the mattress, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. It’s filthy and you absolutely love it, even if your body is screaming it’s on fire, and all your nerves are alight from being so thoroughly handled.

“Mmn—!” You gasp, unable to even articulate how it feels to have Caleb rolling his hips into yours so damn hot while you can barely control the way your body reacts. You think he swells even more when inside you, thick and hot and nearly every thrust hitting you so you see stars. You gape, claw at his neck and anything you can cling to on him, while his movements gradually speed up and he pounds into you relentlessly, cries muffled by his palm.

“You have no idea how much I wanted this…” Caleb gasps, breaths heavy, lifting his palm and resting it sweetly on your face instead. He looks at you so damn adoring while he’s fucking you senseless, watching you gasp and start to squirm under him when the sensation builds upon too much. “Wanted you. Like this.”

“Gh… Y-Yeah…?” You somehow manage to choke out while your body has a mind of its own, squirming and shaking and Caleb’s hands hold you right where he needs you as he slides in and out of you again, pulls out so only the tip is in and snaps his hips against yours in a fluid motion. You wonder if it’s because your most recent orgasm was so close, left you so sensitive you feel like you’re already on the brink. You hang onto Caleb for purchase and try not to cry out as he pushes into you over and over and over.

“You’re way too hot. You feel way too—haah —good.” Caleb curses as he moves, hold your hips and reaches a hand down between the two of you to tease you with sweet fingers while he pumps into you. “You. Undone. Under me,” he murmurs, and your hips helplessly buck into his touch, fingers clutch him tight as he fucks you.

“Y-You…ah—Caleb,” you try to respond, but the way Caleb rocks his hips, and his hand wastes no time driving you mad, you feel that feeling build, build and build so quick, so perfect. You want to retort, say anything to flip his words on him, but you know you’re a gasping mess and can’t focus your mind enough to put up a decent argument. So you clutch at his slick skin, bury your fingers so deep it pales, and whine “I’m… I’ll… ‘M about to…”

Caleb hears you loud and clear, keeps the pace of him pumping into you and is always sure to angle the way your hips slot together perfectly, so each thrust hits you with a deep wave of pleasure and his fingers leave you weak.

“You always act so strong, so tough. It’s nice I can get you like this,” he speaks, and if your mind wasn’t in such fog you’d probably be a little annoyed, but all you can do is whimper at how his voice whispers low in your ear, and the way he circles his hips perfectly to make you gasp, clench, and make him groan in return.

That feeling approaches, the familiar feeling of being undone by Caleb and at the mercy of his mouth, fingers and thrusts. He murmurs sweet words against your lips, and it’s all you can handle when you’re biting your lip and your body is pulled taught like a string, shuddering and powerful as you feel a burst of pleasure like no other, so strong and prolonged you wonder if it’ll ever end, so much you actually see white. Caleb doesn’t relent on his thrusts, fucks you through it, and he doesn’t stop when you’re quivering either and suddenly it’s too much all at once. Your body is still in tremors and shakes as he grasps your hips firm, presses a soothing kiss to your temple as you start to squirm and let out weak noises.

It’s too much and too fast and you’re so sensitive and you can’t— “Caleb,” you choke out, body naturally moving to escape the sensation, but Caleb’s hands hold you steady.

“Want—“ he rasps, “want me to stop? All you gotta do is tap me,” he murmurs so sweet in your ear, and tears prick in your eyes as the pleasure, the sensitivity is so blinding you can’t keep them from your face. And you quietly cry and squirm but hold on tight, not tapping, not pinching. It’s torture but it feels terribly amazing in the best way, even if Caleb has to keep a firm hold so you don’t scramble from his grasp.

“Too much, I can’t, Caleb,” you sob, Caleb kisses the tears that fall down your cheeks so sweetly and proceeds to fuck you silly. Your heart is pounding, your whole body is a shaking over sensitive mess and the feeling is so intense your mind can barely formulate words. “I—please, fuck…” you babble, can’t string together full sentences and just whimper under him. Fuck if you’re never at someone’s mercy like this, you wonder if it’s better or worse that it’s Caleb.

“So damn cute,” he breathes out in broken fragments, breaths quickening as he thrusts deep, hard, accepts every whimper and plea that leaves your wet lips. “You can relax around me, trust me. Let me take care of you.”

“Ah…!” You wish you could respond, you really do, but the only thoughts you can formulate are pleads and Caleb, the endless pleasure bordering pain he pushes you through. He’s so sweet in your hair as his pace quickens and his breaths are shallow, ragged. His face is a damp mess and strings of hair cling to his forehead as he utters your name — your name, not ‘pipsqueak’, over and over. Whispers your name in your ears, mouths it on your temple, presses his lips against your neck as he sighs it. You melt and squeeze your teary eyes shut, clawing at Caleb and letting him pound you into oblivion. You feel fucking ruined and Caleb kisses your tears and pets your head all throughout it.

“Dammit, seriously, what am I gonna do with you…” He rasps, and you think your hazy mind can classify it as positive. His thrusts are quick and it’s not soon after that he’s suddenly groaning, hips going still as he holds deep inside you, trembling as he spills. Deep, warm. You quiver and finally find relief in his slowed thrusts, the way he holds himself with shaky breaths and bright red cheeks, sweat sliding down his temple. Slowly, he stills, panting, and when he’s nearly done shaking, he slowly pulls himself out. The feeling of both being empty and filled is filthy, but you haven’t the energy to burn on feeling embarrassed when you can barely form a sentence. You gasp, wipe at the tears that rolled down your face, and can’t keep the tiny quivers from racking through your body even after the high has passed.

“You okay, pipsqueak?” He whispers after, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You nod, mute, and have to give yourself a bit to be able to respond in full. He seems to understand that much, and rolls to the side so he can gently hold you in his affection.

“That was…wow,” you murmur, and bury your head into his damp chest, the sent of oak and sweat. “Can’t move…” The thought of so much as standing seems impossible, your brain is in this weird, pleasant fog and you can barely focus.

“Did I go overboard?” His laugh is light and raw, lips settled on your forehead.

“It was a lot,” you answer, and your fingers trace over his bicep. Who knew fighter pilots had to be so toned? “It’s hard to think but…” you hum, and adjust your buzzing limbs so you’re a little more comfortable. “It was… good.”

“Good. Guess I’ll put that on the list of things you like,” you feel his lips curl against your forehead, probably grinning. You don’t even have the energy to glare.

“You have a list?”

“In my mind,” he says, and you decide to pull back from his chest a little, if only to see his expression.

Sweat-ridden but sparkling with an air of pleasant satisfaction. Eyes alight, cheeks warm. Since when was Caleb so damn beautiful?

“Next time…” You look up at him with heavy eyes. Feel almost drunk as your body sags and your speech comes out in quiet rasps, throat spent from all the cries you swallowed down. “It’s your turn,” you run your fingers across his lean chest, feel the way his muscles jump with laugher and his heart is starting to slow into a steady rhythm. He’s so irritatingly attractive.

You’re not used to feeling so utterly spent, helpless after. Your legs would collapse under you like a fawn learning to walk if you tried anything right now. You’d like to see Caleb come undone under your fingers, unable to keep himself from writhing while you tease him endlessly. In that way, you’re both similar, you suppose, and you can hardly blame Caleb for the way he gets off on you clawing at him.

“Can’t wait,” he says easily, almost makes you more mad at how easily he accepts your words. He strokes your cheek, wipes the remnants of tears, and holds you comfortably in his palm. “You look so good when you’re a mess.”

“Hush now,” you sigh, and turn your head to kiss his palm. He pads your lip so gently, traces shapes across them (you think one is a heart). It’s so silly but so him and he continually manages to make your heart fill.

“I’m scared I’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.” He pulls you to him, buries his nose in your hair and strokes your back like he hasn’t seen you in years and needs to confirm your existence. “It feels like a dream. You in my arms. Kissing me. Wanting me.” He draws back so he can tilt your head up and peer into your eyes. You think the sun is starting to rise, his eyes are as clear as ever yet clouded with contentment and apprehension. “You like me, don’t you?” His hands hold you so sweetly, his eyes are so raw. “Pretty sure I’ve loved you as long as I can remember.”

You blink, try to process his words in the fog of your mind and feel yourself run warm when you’re able to take his words piece by piece and understand them, digest them in full. The word ‘love’ tickles your ears, and you try not to let the tears flow again (who knew being so wrecked made you stupidly emotional) and nod quickly, covering the hand that holds your cheek.

“Of course I like you. I’ve trusted and cared about you as long as I can remember.” Your hand on his chest stills, presses so you can hear the drum of his heartbeat that’s now relatively fast. You can’t judge, when your heartbeats are so heavy you feel them in the back of your throat. “I’ll love you back, someday. The way you love me. I’ve loved you like my best friend, as a person, for the longest, though.”

“I’ve waited so long to hear that…” Caleb sighs, your eyes flicker to the chain around his neck, and you silently vow to yourself to sometimes let go of your stubborn streak, take care of Caleb the way he loves to take care of you. You hum and nuzzle into his chest, basking in how warm he feels, skin against skin, heating you, like a pleasant wood fire on a cozy winter night.

You sigh, can’t bite back a small smile, and let your eyelids flutter, your weak body sink into the mattress as Caleb’s slow breaths and caresses lull you, goad you to rest.

Caleb’s skin, heat, the love and affection you feel encased in each featherlight touch draws you in, comforts you enough to let your consciousness fade. Like a soothing lullaby.

It’s perfect, knowing you’ll wake up in his arms the next morning.

—

Sequel — Caleb Loves to Bully You in Bed

#love and deepspace #caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #gender neutral reader #caleb love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace smut #xia yizhou #xia yizhou x reader

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sunny-mercya · 7 months ago

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Safe Arms

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x FTMale Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Warning: Mention of Breasts

Woodsboro had quite the big population. Not as large as Los Angeles or Santa Monica of course, but enough not to feel completely out of place or knowing you would be one of the few—like how it would be most of the times in towns and Villages.

And yet, besides knowing you're not the only Trans-Person in Woodsboro, you do feel out of place—like a fish on land.

Maybe it was because throughout your school years and the slow progress of transition, you hadn't anyone to talk about it—to relate with someone who was like you and perhaps that was the reason why you felt like this, as if you didn't belong here or anywhere.

Though yet again, when you're with Billy and Stu—your boyfriends—you felt just right in where you are—because neither Billy or Stu, they knew about you being Trans since the beginning of your relationship, treat you any differently and saw you as what you truly are. A man.

It were moments like these, which proved your inner nagging thoughts into a silence, that you belonged here—be it Woodsboro or any other place you decided to live—and that you're not alone. Moments like these, which made you fall in love with your two mans over again.

It had been some stressful weeks for you, exams and part-time Job piling up onto your nerves—straining them to an snapping point—and when a wave of dysphoria had rolled over you—taunting your mind and self-confidence, which you build up slowly but steady over the years—to feel comfortable—your high strung nerves had snapped in half and you cried, more ugly sobbing it was, for two days.

You had stayed home the whole week—had forced yourself to go to school last week already, till it became unbearable much to even consider leaving your bed at all, without feeling so disoriented.

When Billy and Stu didn't saw you in school, they grew a bit worried about you—especially when you ignored their calls—having a good hunch of why you stayed at home—and once they've asked your older siblings and they confirmed their suspicions, Billy and Stu decided to visit you and do a sleepover.

~~~

Sitting in the middle of your bed, in nothing clad but boxers, you let Billy take off your binder—he's careful not touch whats beneath it—although you being on transition, the much needed operation to remove your breasts would only become real, when you had saved up enough money for it—and once the soft material was off from your skin, you wanted to curl into yourself and hide away.

The feeling of your breast—these ugly breasts, those lumps of flesh—which are now hanging freely on your chest, racked a shudder through your body—visible flinching away from Billy's hands and crossing your arms over your breasts—wanting to hide them, to make them disappear once more.

Billy pry'ed your arms from your chest, pulling one of Stu's shirts—which in terms of size—even though Stu's more lanky limps than bulky wide, he still wears shirts in size of XL or XXL—looks so massive on you, that it looks like as if you're swallowed whole in the material—over you.

You sighed out in relief, closing your eyes, when your breast were now covered—feeling more secure and comfortable again.

Stu, after setting up the dvd-player for tonight's movie marathon—which, despite being summer, consisted of the whole Halloween Chronicles and other Horror and Slasher movies—had crawled onto the bed as well—engulfing you in his long lanky but strong arms and covers your face with little smooches of butterflies kisses.

»You looks so sexy in my shirt, [Name], I could eat you up right away« Stu grinned, licking over his lips—thought about to lock you into a tongue battling french-kiss, but with your current mood it wouldn't be such a good idea to do so, didn't want to make you uncomfortable and cry—when you're already feeling so in the down—so instead Stu decides to give you a big final kiss on the cheek.

»Horrorfilms again?« you asked, cuddling more into Stu's side, when he had pulled you down to the mattress.

You had nothing against Horrorfilms, just to watch them 24/7 a week and throughout the year, could be a bit—a tiny bit—tedious to do so for your eyes and mind.

»What can I say, they are the best to watch. Aren't they? But don't worry, pretty boy, we will watch your favourite movies too.«

Billy calling you „pretty boy“ makes your heart soar—brought a small smile onto your lips—because that's what you are; a boy.

»Yeah, I am a pretty boy.« you repeated, voice still in a hushed whisper, but with confidence in it.

Billy placed the bags of chips around you all, getting into bed himself—pressing the button of the remote to start the first movie—and laying down next to you, draping an arm around your shoulders.

»Don't be a such a hogger, Stuie. I want a share of our darling boy too.«

»You're more a hogger than I am!« Stu furrowed his eyebrows slightly, pouting childish at Billy.

»Such a lie. You definitely hog him more.«

»Boys, I'm in the middle and you both get a fair share. So now, no more fighting and let's watch these movies now.« you said, patting each of their legs—knowing well that once a discussion between your boyfriends would break out, it could last the whole night and probably would go into the nasty side of insults.

Although you had a shitty week and still feeling in the dumpster—as if you didn't belong anywhere anymore at all—having Billy and Stu next to you, their arms around you, felt like the safest place on earth.

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rainylana · 1 year ago

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“My superhero.”

eddie munson x female reader

summary: short fic about a pregnant reader:)

warnings: reader is pregnant and talks negatively about her weight gain, maybe some language, fluff to the max.

“I’m so fat.” You huffed, standing in front of the long mirror that stood in the corner of you and Eddie’s bedroom, pregnant belly a foot out in front of you.

“Excuse me?” Eddie put down his magazine, sprawled out on the bed behind you. “What did I tell you about that?”

“About what?” You looked at him through the mirror.

“About standing there in that mirror and criticizing yourself.” He sat up, giving you a look. “I told you to stop. You are not fat.”

“I look like a whale.” You pursed your lips, ignoring his demand as you turned to the side, trying to suck your stomach in.

He watched you with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why I say anything. You don’t listen.”

You huffed. “I know, I know, sorry.” You shook your head, waddling over to your chair by the window. “I’m just so tired of being pregnant and-”

“If you say fat,” He pointed a finger at you, making you clamp your mouth shut.

You crossed your arms, kicking your feet out and pouting your lip. He smirked and picked up his magazine, relaxing back into the bed. Both of you were off work for the day, had already ate dinner so you were left with an evening to do whatever you pleased. You sighed heavily and laid your head back against the chair, closing your eyes. Maybe a nap would do you some good.

You were seven months pregnant, blessed with a healthy pregnancy, and up until the last few weeks had your hormones finally taken an emotional uproot. It hit Eddie like a tone of bricks, but he did his best to comfort you and get you the things you needed. He came back one day with a new pillow, lotion and prenatal vitamins after Robin took him out to get you a present after a hard day.

You hummed to yourself softly, not loud enough for him to hear, just to sooth your agitation. It wasn’t good enough though, because you felt your lips pull down in a frown. You knew Eddie wouldn’t judge you for how your body changed, but you weren’t happy with it. You wanted your old body back.

“Hey,” Eddie perked up at the sound of your whimpers, sitting up so he could see your face. “Honey, what’s wrong are you alright?” He crawled to the other side of the bed so he could be closer to you.

“Yeah.” You held up a hand so he wouldn’t be alarmed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Why you crying then, huh?” He grabbed your knee. “Is it the baby?”

“No, no,” You grabbed his hand, sniffling. “No, baby is fine.”

He rubbed up and down your leg. “Then what’s got you upset?”

You shook your head and patted his hand. “Nothing, honey, don’t worry about it.”

He gave you a look. “Oh, come on, tell me. Your back hurt?”

“Eddie, please,” You sighed, laying your head back. “I’m okay, I’m just tired.”

He pried another minute before giving up, climbing back to the bed and picking up his magazine, giving you one last look.

“I’m fat!” You cried, covering your face with your hands.

“Oh, my god,” He covered his own, whispering the exclamation to himself as he got up. “Honey,” He sighed, crouching in front of you. “Look at me.”

“No,” You said muffled through tears. “I’m so ugly!”

“Hey,” He said sternly, taking down your hands gently. “I said look at me, y/n,”

You looked at him with tearful eyes and a snotty nose.

“Don’t say that.” He said firmly, holding your chin. “Are you listening? I don’t want to hear that shit come out of your mouth again. That’s not true in the slightest and you know it.”

His casual dominance made your cheeks blush, and you hiccuped, rubbing your sleeve across your cupid’s bow.

“I’m just-” You choked on a cry. “I feel like I’ve been pregnant for seven years!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know you do. I’m sorry. But I don’t want you thinking so negatively about yourself, alright?”

“I’m sorry.” You said embarrassed, looking at his chest. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad, baby,” He said incredulously, standing up as he grabbed your arm, helping you out of the chair. He took your seat, pulling you down to his lap so you could sit atop of him. He wrapped his arms around you, rocking you gently with a hand on your swollen tummy.

“You’re more beautiful than you’ve ever been, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel beautiful.” You pouted. “I feel swollen and my feet hurt when I walk. I’m tired of peeing my pants.”

He cracked a smirk against the top of your head. “Well, you’re still beautiful, angel, no matter how swollen you are and no matter how many time you pee your pants.”

You whined and cuddled up against him, your thighs against your belly. “You mean it?”

“Of course.” He patted your back. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, honey. You’re growing a human life.”

“Feels like I’m growing an elephant.” You grumbled, causing him to laugh.

“Well, never the less, you’re a superhero.” He kissed the side of your head. “My superhero.”

“Yeah and you know what they would call me?” You peeked up at him. “Fatman.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re no use.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons

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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago

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and when tashi punishes you in front of art for letting you get out of hand in the Olympics!au what then. you expect him to stand up for you - all the things he said about caring about you and wanting you - but he just looks away. tashi says you can leave, you can leave and art will never talk to you again because if tashi demands it he'll listen. you wont even exist to him. it'll be like he never knew you.

or.

you can take a little consequences for your actions. she likes your spirit, after all. your fire and passion. you just need a little discipline.

Exactly <3 When she practically drags you back to their house after the pregnancy test comes back negative and every bit of your pathetic lies come tumbling down around you <3 When she makes you tell Art everything, and you’re not crying pretty for him anymore, they’re ugly, humiliated tears that you got caught, that you’re having to admit that you were lying to him about a baby, that you thought you could manipulate him.

You think the tears will bring Art back to your side— that he’ll defend you and tell Tashi to stop, that you’ve had enough. They’ve worked on him plenty times before, but never with Tashi there. His jaw is set tight— you know he’s angry, that he’s livid but he’s letting Tashi handle it, handle you.

So Tashi gives you two options— face some consequences for once in your spoiled, bratty life, or you can just leave. Art would never see you again, never look at you, you’ll be nothing to him. It’s not even a choice to you— not even something you’re willing to consider. So you accept whatever consequences because you’re expecting Art to be the one doling it out.

But it’s not Art’s lap you’re bent over, it’s hers. And it’s not enough to just spank you with her hand— she’s mean about it. She uses a fucking paddle, like you’re a schoolgirl who misbehaved in class. It’s hard, and you yelp and bury your face into the duvet to muffle your cries, but Tashi just pulls your head back up, tells you to keep looking at Art. It feels like punishment enough, that he’s watching, but he’s not defending you, won’t own up to anything he said.

And he’s getting off on it— on finally seeing you brought to heel. He couldn’t do it, but Tashi can. Tashi has you babbling out apologies, with your makeup streaked, your ass stinging red, probably black and blue by the next day. But you don’t pussy out, you take it all and you’d take more, because the alternative is losing your favorite plaything, the object of your obsession.

And you think that’s it. You’re going to have trouble sitting— doing much of anything— but it doesn’t seem as bad as it could have been. But you’re simply ignored at your spot on the bed as Tashi kisses her husband. You pout the longer it goes on— as their tongues press against each other and slip into their mouths, as she pins Art to the bed and strips off both of their clothes.

That’s your punishment. Thats what you’re there for. How many times had you gotten off on Art telling you that you fucked him better? That your pussy was tighter and sweeter? That he loved you? That he’d leave her? You didn’t think he’d been lying until you had to watch, but you couldn’t look away.

So you listen to Art telling Tashi all the same things he told you, watch him fuck into Tashi’s cunt the way he’d done to you time and time again. Watch him cum, panting and moaning against her lips.

“I love you,” he pants, and she smiles, scratching at his scalp.

Your bottom lip wobbles and you feel hot tears on your lashline, and you’re worried you’ll have to just tap out and leave and give him up because it hurts.

He pulls out, and you watch his cum slip from her pussy, dripping down and onto the sheets. Tashi meets your gaze, nods expectantly. “Clean up the mess my husband made.”

You exhale a weak whine, crawl between her thighs and start licking at her, hesitantly at first. Her hand is in your hair, almost soothing as your tongue explores her— licking up the mixture of her and Art’s cum. You lose yourself in it until you’re just laving at her from her drooling entrance to her clit, all just seeking the taste of more.

“Okay, that’s enough,” She tells you, pushing your mouth off. She looks down at you indiscernibly, and you just lay against her thighs and sniffle out apologies.

#anything for you tashi donaldson 🫶😁#olympics au

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thekingbiscuit · 6 months ago

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I have a bunch of random writing rotting in my notes app, so even though I prefer lurking and reblogging I'm just gonna drop this ravioli outline thing here. It's written quick and dirty but that's just how it iz

Legend wants another divorce

When you're married for tax and immigration fraud purposes, till death do us part doesn't have that much of a kick to it.

The links witness the most lovingly dysfunctional marriage in all hyliankind.

The links turn up at Legends place for the first time. He takes them home, ravio is at the door, angry. Cries at link for leaving him alone for two months, says without his ugly mug threatening the customers he couldn't squeeze as a much money out of them, asks for another divorce, then runs off into their bedroom.

The other links are flabbergasted. Wars is dying inside cause no way is the collector (asshole) is married and divorced. Leg rolls his eyes, ignores questions and tells them to just sleep anywhere and don't touch anything.

At dinner, leg makes ravio a sandwich, gets down on one knee and asks ravio to marry him again. Ravio swoons with a yes, but before he can take a bite, he reams ravio about mixing his merchandise up with his adventure stuff, takes a massive bite out of the sandwich, says he wants to be divorced again.

Ravio won't let link sleep on the bed, it's improper, but leg is freaking tired and he can't have the couch because there are guests over, so leg just tiredly asks if they can be married again, ravio requests dowery of one week of bed cuddles, three days, four days and I'm big spoon. Deal.

At breakfast ravio has a single bite of waffles from wild, requests another divorce, says he wants to marry wild instead. Legend gets up on the table, sword out, and asks wild what he's playing at. Wild is so utterly confused and time diffuses the situation. Legend tells ravio he'll come crawling back and ravio sicks his tongue out at him

Legend does in fact win him back when Ravio needs him to do something in the shop, and leg wants to get paid a wage (and rent), Ravio would rather them be married so he's just contributing to the house.

They go to the castle eventually, mius leg he couldn't be bothered, where Fable tells em yeah they're legally married. Leg didn't tell her outright but she suspects it's because married couples with kids have lower taxes. The other links are shook and confused, so is fable, saying he adopted his three younger siblings. These are just link split up into the triforce heros but the chain doesn't know this.

#linked universe #lu legend #lu ravio #ravioli #i don't plan on doing anything else with thi #i think i wrote it last year at 3am #i have like 20 of these never to see the light of day

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fortheloveofwonderland · 6 months ago

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Midnight | Chapter 21 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - you and Spencer both make decisions you can’t come back from.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - past sexual abuse of a child, swearing, tears, murder, cheating, brief mention of oral (f receiving), vomit, pregnancy symptoms, double crossing, blood, stab wounds, death of a father, bruises, aggression, use of “whore”.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 21 - Miss Mysterious

The clock on the wall chimed twelve times in quick succession, echoing around the otherwise silent room. Spencer sat on the edge of the coffee table, the SIG still pointed at his father, who hadn’t moved from the armchair.

He didn’t know what he was so hesitant about, he could have easily killed him by now and been out of the house and on his way back to Caesars but something was stopping him.

Did he want an explanation? And even if he got one, nothing in the world could excuse what his dad had done to him or anyone else. His dad was a sick and twisted person who had abused his own son’s trust and ripped little pieces of his soul away every single time he crawled into his bed in the middle of the night.

His fathers actions had affected him in more ways than he’d ever even realised. Of course there was the obvious, his building of walls, his inability to get close to people. It had taken until he was twenty six before he was intimate with a woman for the first time. And he’d shut himself in the bathroom afterwards and cried and it was a long time before sex didn’t make him that emotional.

It had later manifested itself in his dominance in the bedroom. You weren’t the first person he’d treated that way in bed, it had become a pattern for him. He had to take back his power by being in control and never submitting to anyone else in that way again. In doing so he was able to harness his emotions afterwards and not have to indulge in a post-coital sob.

But there were repercussions from his fathers abuse in which he had never really noticed until now. When he’d finally been pushed over the edge to kill, every single man he had ended the life of was simply a surrogate. Each one was around his father’s age, all violent and evil human beings. Each man was a substitute for the real target of his rage. A rage he hadn’t realised had been building for over thirty years until right now.

William Reid was Spencer’s ultimate boogeyman, the monster lurking in every shadow. He was Spencer’s Goliath and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to slay him. He just had to focus and not let himself get dragged down this dark rabbit hole. But it may be too late.

He could still hear the sound of a zipper cutting through his mind in that room that was supposed to be his place of solace. He could see his fathers manic eyes as they loomed over him in the darkness. He could feel those rough hands all over his body and hear his own cries which his father simply ignored.

Daddy, please! You don’t have to do this.

He felt his hand shaking as he held the gun, hot tears pooling behind his eyes. He sniffed them back, not willing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. He clenched his jaw firmly, grinding his teeth in a furious fashion and sat forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“You ruined my life.” Spencer croaked, his voice so unlike himself.

“I made you stronger.” William countered, narrowing his eyes on Spencer. “I was teaching you how to be a man.”

“Oh yeah? And how is that?” Spencer’s brows furrowed in angry confusion.

“You were so weak, pathetic, really. You never would have been able to take care of yourself. I was showing you the harsh realities of the world, you needed to learn that to get by in this life you have to be strong, grow a thick skin. I helped you.” William shrugged.

“Helped me?” Spencer spat, hand shaking violently. “You think molesting me helped me?”

“That’s such an ugly word, Spencer.” William rolled his eyes. “But yes.”

“You’re full of shit.” Spencer jumped to his feet, proffering the SIG closer to his dad. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? That you fucking helped me? What about the other’s? Did you help them too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” William shrugged again.

“Cut the crap, dad. I know there were other boys. A sexual predator doesn’t just stop unless someone stops him.”

William slowly pushed himself up with the use of the arms of the chair. He was shorter than Spencer by a few inches, he’d gotten his height from his mother. Thankfully he’d gotten most things from his mom and not this man in front of him.

“Let’s not talk about the others, Spencer.” William smiled at him. “You were the only one I cared about.”

“Fuck you.” Spencer sniffed again as his eyes welled with tears once more. “You didn’t care about me. If you cared about me you wouldn’t have done what you did. I’m your son for fuck sake! You were supposed to keep me safe from monsters, not be one.”

“Of course I cared about you. I love you, Spencer.” William raised one arm and moved to stroke the side of Spencer’s face but Spencer quickly slapped him away with his free hand.

William, although frail looking, was fast and managed to grab Spencer by the wrist and circle his fingers around it. He noticed his dad’s eyes cast down to the silver band on his finger before looking back up to meet his eyes.

“You’re married?” William frowned.

“Yes.” Spencer tugged his arm free of his dad’s hold.

“Does she know what you really are?” A smirk tugged at the older man’s lips.

“She knows I’m a murderer.” Spencer spat, proffering the gun closer again. “I’ve killed multiple men just like you, the scum of the earth who need to pay for their crimes. And she loves me for it. She respects me for it.”

“And let me guess, it's my fault you turned out this way?” William sighed as if he was bored.

“Who else's fault would it be?”

“Your wack job mother, perhaps? How many times did you witness her being violent towards me when you were young?”

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you didn’t deserve. And seeing my mom lash out from time to time when she didn’t take her meds and having my father sexually abuse me are two very different things!” Spencer raised his voice, spitall flying from his mouth in rage.

“You got all your worst traits from her, you know?” William kept his cool. “Volatile, over dramatic. It’s a shame you didn’t turn out more like me.”

“I’ll never be anything like you.” Spencer straightened his back, tried to rein himself in.

“Oh Spencer, you're already so much more like me than you realise.” William chuckled darkly and it made Spencer’s stomach turn.

“That’s not true.” Spencer shook his head.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” William stepped closer to him and Spencer should have just shot him but he didn’t. He let his father come close to his ear and he closed his eyes when he felt the older man's breath against his face. “I killed Riley Jenkins.”

Spencer stumbled on his feet, feeling his stomach somersaulting wildly and he briefly worried he might throw up. His father was cackling maniacally at the look on his son's face.

“No, that’s not true.” Spencer lowered the gun without meaning to.

“The truth is Riley had more guts than you and he was going to tell his father what I did to him. So I had to kill him.” William didn’t show a hint of remorse for his actions, in fact he looked proud of himself. “So if you kill me, you’re only proving my point that you’re just like me.”

“No.” Spencer’s tears wouldn’t stay contained anymore and they started to fall. “No, I’m nothing like you.”

“Put the gun down and walk away, son. Prove you’re not like me” William smirked at him.

“I…I can’t.” Spencer shook his head frantically.

“Spencer,” William suddenly turned stern. “Put the gun down and walk away.”

“N-no.” Spencer’s lip quivered.

William exhaled loudly and before Spencer knew what was happening, his father advanced on him, managing to free the gun from Spencer’s hand before Spencer even saw him coming. With his other hand he swiftly punched Spencer in the stomach and when his son doubled over in pain from the blow, he grabbed him by the hair, tugged him one way and then shoved him to the floor.

Spencer groaned as he hit the carpet but noted the knife hadn’t dislodged from his waistband. His father stood over him, pointing his own gun down at him and looking at him in frustration.

“I don’t want to kill you, Spencer. But if the choice is between me and you then I will not hesitate in pulling this trigger.” William spat.

Spencer rolled onto his back, making sure the blade stayed concealed from his fathers vision. It was his only way out of this, he needed the element of surprise on his side. He just had to work out how to unsheath it and get one up on his dad before the other man got off a shot.

“You want to kill me, go ahead.” Spencer shrugged, tears still silently rolling down his cheeks. “You’ve already taken everything from me, I kind of wish you’d killed me when I was a kid so I didn’t have to live with the memories of what you did to me. So just do it. Put me out of my misery.”

William swallowed, lifting his arm a little and aiming the muzzle right at Spencer’s skull. His hands were steady, tightly wrapped around the butt of the SIG and looking like he may well actually shoot Spencer and probably sleep easy afterwards.

If Spencer didn’t act fast he was as good as dead. But he refused to let it end this way, at the hands of his abuser. He had to formulate a plan and enact it to perfection or he would die on this shitty carpet, in this crappy house and the last thing he would have seen would be the eyes of the man who molested him.

***

At some point you probably should have stopped to think about Spencer but honestly, he was the furthest thing from your mind. Not even your wedding band could distract from the intense pleasure that Jesse was bestowing upon you, quite frankly you could barely remember your own name.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d imagined what his beard would feel like between your legs and tonight you’d finally been privy to it. The friction from his rough facial hair made the experience even more incredible than any other time you’d ever been eaten out before, and you found yourself grinding against his face to feel more of it.

He made you come with complete ease, as though he wasn’t even trying and when he sat back and wiped his hand over his mouth he was smiling sinfully at you.

“Jesus Christ.” You panted, still slightly writhing on the couch beneath him.

“That’s half the reason I keep the beard.” He chuckled, laying down on top of you.

“What’s the other half?” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“How good it makes me look.” He kissed you again and you tasted yourself on his lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and using one hand to pop the button on his jeans. You were both still fully dressed, too desperate for each other to think about undressing. But you wanted to see more of him, if this was the last chance you got to be with him, you needed to commit him to memory.

As if reading your mind, whilst you worked on shimming his pants down to his thighs he made quick work of getting his shirt off. You pulled him back closer to you, nestling him between your legs and your hands starting to graze over the tattoo on his peck.

But then your stomach suddenly lurched in a way you’d gotten all too used to recently and suddenly you were shoving him away and jumping to your feet.

Jesse fell back to the couch, staring at the back of your head as you sprinted to the bathroom. He heard the toilet seat being lifted and moments later the sound of you retching reached his ears.

He pulled a face, tucking himself away as he got to his feet, cautiously following in your tracks. He found you kneeling over the toilet seat, head in the basin while you violently vomited.

“Are you ok?” He approached you, sitting down on the edge of the bath and stroking your back.

“Hmm.” You grumbled, sitting back once you expelled yourself and wiping your mouth. “That’s been happening a lot lately. It’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“I should hope not.” He laughed, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You frowned up at him.

“You’re pregnant right?” He frowned back at you.

“No?” You shuffled backwards out of his touch.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, with the vomiting I just assumed. And I don’t mean this in the completely perverted way it’s going to sound, but I haven’t even seen you shirtless tonight and I can tell your breasts are huge. Bigger than I remember and I remember them pretty well.”

“I…I don’t even know what to say to that.” You glanced down at your chest where your dress was stained with the drink you’d spilled.

“Have you had any other signs? Urinating more regularly? Strange cravings or aversions to things?” He asked with a soft smile.

You felt the colour drain from your face, feeling like you could throw up again. The signs had been there staring you in the face and you’d ignored them. But surely you couldn’t be?

“I, uh, maybe? No. I don’t know.” You pushed yourself up to your feet.

“When was the last time you had a period?” Jesse stood as well.

“Too personal.” You shook your head with a groan.

“Y/N, come on.” He cocked his eyebrow at you.

“I don’t know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “They’ve never been all that reliable and I have been pretty stressed recently. There is no way, I cannot be pregnant.”

“I should probably go.” Jesse smiled sadly at you. “This was a really bad idea, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly wasn’t a good idea.” You felt your eyes welling with tears although you didn’t know why. “I’m so sorry. I wish he didn’t have this hold over me.”

“It’s called love, Y/N.” Jesse tucked your hair behind your ear. “You love him and you shouldn’t apologise for that.”

“Maybe I don’t? I don’t know.” You shook your head.

“Answer me something,” Jesse folded his arms over his still bare chest. “You killed Mary because she was threatening him.”

“That’s not a question.”

“No, I know.” He chuckled lightly. “My question is: would you have done that for anyone else? For example, would you have killed her if she was threatening me?”

“No.” You didn’t hesitate. “No I wouldn’t have.”

“And that’s because you love him.” Jesse shrugged.

“But loving him makes me feel like such an idiot.”

“Now you know how I feel.” He smiled wistfully at you. “I really should go before he comes back. How long are you in town for?”

“Just tonight, I think.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Far to travel?”

“I’m not falling into that trap.” You smirked at him.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He laughed. “Stay safe, Y/N. And if you are pregnant, good luck. For what it’s worth I think you’d make a great mom.”

“Did you forget the part where I confessed to murder?” You frowned at him.

“We all make mistakes.” He started walking backwards towards the door. “Take me for example, I was about to sleep with a married and potentially pregnant woman.”

You followed him out into the living room and smiled to yourself as you got a great eye full of his ass, even if it was inside his jeans, as he bent down to pick up his shirt. You made sure to commit that to memory.

You watched him put the shirt back ok, also trying to memorise every one of those tattoos adorned his body. He sidled closer to you again and cupped your face gently in his hands.

“We can’t keep meeting in bars, Y/N.” He chuckled lightly. “It has to be goodbye this time.”

“I still think you followed me here.” You teased him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

“You wish.” He chuckled, reluctantly letting go of your face.

He took a few steps backwards towards the suite door and you had to force yourself not to follow him. He gave you a sad half-smile as he exhaled heavily and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor.

“See ya, I guess.” You shrugged, once again wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s you’re parting words to me? See ya, I guess?” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“What do you want me to say?” You laughed.

“What I want you to say and what you can actually say are two very different things.” He rubbed his beard. “So let’s leave it at, see ya, I guess.”

With that he offered you a wave and reached for the door handle, closing it behind himself. And just like he was gone.

You stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto it, your head spinning with the evening's activities. You’d really fucked up this time. Being with Jesse back in Butte was ok because you and Spencer hadn’t really been married. But now you were married and you’d let yourself get caught up in Jesse once more.

Maybe in a way Spencer deserved it for the way he’d treated you in the past. You’d blindly followed him only for him to treat you like dirt. Sure things had been better lately but you never knew where you stood with him and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you felt safe with him.

And what the fuck happened if Jesse was right and you were actually pregnant? Bringing a baby into this messed up situation, to be raised by two killers? That didn’t even bear thinking about.

He had to be wrong. There was no way you could be. You were on the pill…

…fuck.

You were on the pill. Right up until Spencer had talked you into leaving DC and you’d left your contraceptive behind in your hurry to leave.

Fuck.

***

Jesse McGill took the elevator down to the ground floor and found a quiet area in the lobby before pulling out his cell phone. He ran his hand over his beard with a large sigh, a wave of emotions crashing down around him.

He gnawed frantically on his lip as he pulled up the number he’d received a call from yesterday and then held it to his ear. It was answered on the third ring.

“Did you do it?” The hurried voice came down the line.

“I did what you asked. I saw her but I didn’t see Spencer and she didn’t say where he was.” Jesse sighed, he didn’t feel good about this at all.

“Did you ask her about Mary?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Jesse closed his eyes. He had two options here but he had no idea which was the best one. He could lie and say you wouldn’t tell him anything about what happened to Mary, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected. He could tell the truth, tell them that you confessed to killing her but you wouldn’t give up where the body was buried.

Or, he could go with option number three. He could tell a combination of the truth and a lie.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

“Well? What did she say?” The voice came again, impatience riddled in their tone.

“Mary’s dead.” Jesse opened his eyes again, making his decision as he spoke. “Spencer killed her.”

“Goddamnit. I knew it!” The other man growled, slamming something loudly and causing an echo down the phone. “Did she say anything else?”

“No. She told me the body was buried somewhere it would never be found. Apparently Mary was blackmailing Spencer and he just-”

“I don’t care why he did it.” The man scoffed. “And she didn’t give you any indication of where they’re living or anything like that?”

“No, I tried, I really tried. But she’s not stupid.” Jesse pushed his back up against the wall, eyes fluttering between people entering and leaving Caesars.

“You know you did the right thing, Jesse? I know you probably don’t feel good about this, but you did the right thing. It’s not her we want, it’s Spencer. I’ll make sure she’s protected.”

“I know, but it feels fucking rotten.” Jesse sighed again. “What happens now?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. We’ve got this from here. Get a room for the night, it’s late, catch a flight home tomorrow. Let me know how much they cost and I’ll ensure you get reimbursed.”

“I don’t care about that.” Jess shook his head. “I liked her and I feel like I’ve betrayed her.”

“You did the right thing.” The voice repeated. “I promise I only want what’s best for her. And that’s to get her away from Spencer. You’ve been a huge help. Thanks again Jesse.”

Jesse hated being a part of this, depised that he’d been dragged into this fucked up mess. He’d meant it when he told you he loved you which only made this harder. But they say if you love someone you have to let them go, if they return they were always yours and if they don’t, they never were.

He knew exactly which one you were.

“Agent Alvez?” Jesse blurted out. He closed his eyes as if it might somehow relieve his guilt before he spoke again. “There is one more thing you should know…”

***

Spencer leant against the wall in the elevator as it made its ascent, staring at the closed metal doors while he tried to piece his night back together.

Everything that happened after his dad shoved him to the floor and took his gun was a blur. His stomach ached, he wouldn’t be surprised if his father had left him with a nasty bruise. His fist had clipped him right in the steadily healing scar from the knife wound you'd inflicted on him months ago.

He remembered the pain, he remembered trying to think of a way to free the knife from the back of his pants. But it was like at some point he blacked out because the next thing he knew he was standing over his fathers dead body covered in blood.

He’d counted forty three stab wounds in his fathers torso, sliced like Swiss cheese and damn near eviscerated. The man who had molested him, his biggest demon was dead. And the most poetically tragic part was that Spencer didn’t remember killing him.

Maybe the haze would clear and over time he’d be able to piece the events back together. It was possible his brain was trying to protect him from the trauma of recollecting the murder of his father, but if it had safeguarded him from the memories of being eight years old, there wouldn’t have been the need to kill William in the first place.

He’d cleaned up the crime scene, the messiest one he’d ever had to face due to the amount of blood that wept from those forty three wounds. He put his fathers body in the trunk of the Impala and found a sweater in the backseat which was lucky given the amount of blood on his hoodie.

He stood in his fathers bathroom and stared at his reflection. His face and neck were splattered in the red sticky substance and his hands were almost entirely covered. He cleaned himself off the best he could and before he knew it he was driving away from the house.

He stumbled through the lobby of Caesars as if he were drunk, his brain felt that kind of intoxicated haze too. He made it up to his floor and slotted his key in the door. In all honesty, after the events of the night, he completely forgot you’d be there. So when he shoved up the door and found you sitting on the couch in the suite, he had to blink a few times as he tried to piece back moments from earlier in the day.

You pushed yourself to your feet, taking a few steps towards Spencer, your brows furrowed at his obvious confusion.

“You ok?” You didn’t come too close, you were wary of him.

“Uh, yeah.” He swallowed before clearing his throat. “Yeah I think so.”

“You’ve been gone for hours.” You rolled your lips between your teeth.

“I have?” He rubbed one of his eyes.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no. Not drunk. Tired, maybe?” He questioned himself. “I should probably…I don’t know, sleep or something.”

He started in your direction and moved past you and as he did so you caught the familiar smell of blood. That coupled with the tiny red drop you’d noticed on the side of his neck confirmed your theory about where he’d been.

“Did you get your phone?” You asked as he passed you.

He turned back to you, squinting a little, clearly confused.

“Uh…” he swallowed again. “Sure.”

“Spencer?” You folded your arms over your chest.

“Yeah?”

“Who’d you kill?”

He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose. He should have known you’d see right through him.

“No one. It’s nothing.” He mumbled, opening his eyes again.

“You have blood on your neck. And I’m pretty certain if you took your sweater off your shirt would be covered in blood.” You took another step forward. “Who’d you kill?”

He sighed over dramatically, by way of telling you he didn’t want to be having this conversation. He rubbed his eyes, subsequently helping to clear the daze he’d been in and looked at you curiously, as though it was his first time seeing you. You noticed his eyes flick to your bicep and you followed his gaze, only then realising your mistake.

You involuntarily raised your other hand and placed it over the flashing beacon that had been left behind on your arm, a symbol of your infidelity.

“What have you done to your arm?” He grinded his teeth, loud enough that you could hear it.

“I must have, uh, walked into something I guess.”

“No. Nuh uh.” He shook his head, advancing on you and roughly tugging your hand away from the array of bruises around your bicep. “Try again.”

“I don’t know where they came from.” You whimpered.

“You’re lying.” He spat. “I’ve left enough bruises on you to know they are from someone’s fingers.”

He wrapped his own hand around your arm just lower than where the red mark was adorned on your skin.

“I guess you must have done it then. We did have sex earlier.”

“No.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t me. Who the fuck did this to you?”

“N-no one.” You chewed heavily on your lip, teeth digging deeply into the flesh.

“No one? So you’re just magically producing bruises?” He snarled at you.

“No.” You pouted. “Stop changing the subject. Who’s blood is on you?”

“Who gave you these bruises?” He countered, still holding your arm.

“Who did you kill?”

“Who hurt you?”

You were at a stalemate, glaring at each other wildly, neither one of you wanting to admit the truth to the other. You’d rather he hurt you than admit that you’d cheated on him. And he’d rather die than tell you about what his father had done to him.

He suddenly let go of your arm and huffed loudly, stepping backwards and raking his fingers through his hair.

“What are you keeping from me?” He mumbled as if talking to himself.

“We all have secrets, Spencer.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “You more so than anyone. So you don’t get to be angry at me if I choose not to tell you everything.”

He glared at you, rage filled eyes scrutinising you in a way he’d never looked at you both.

“Who the fuck even are you?” He shook his head. “I don’t even recognise what you’ve become.”

“Me?” You spat. “Whatever I’ve become you turned me into!”

“I made you!” He growled. “And this is how you repay me? Lying to me and keeping secrets?”

“What can I say? I learnt from the best!” Your anger rose rapidly. “I should have known you were lying to me tonight. You butter me up with up sex and leave me here alone while you go out and kill even though I’ve proven to you time and time again that you can trust me! So yeah I went downstairs to the bar and I thought, hey, if my husband doesn’t want to spend time with me, maybe someone else will.”

“You did what?” He snapped, suddenly grabbing you roughly by both arms and pushing you back against the nearest wall. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“What if I did?” You snarled, refusing to show your fear. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Who was he? I’ll fucking kill him!” He slammed you into the wall.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“I cant fucking believe you! How could you do that to me? I married you! And now you’re picking up random men in bars? Have some self respect!” He was really close to your face and the metallic smell was overwhelming.

“Since day one in this relationship you have done whatever you want to do and not given me a second thought. Why should I give your feelings any consideration when you give mine none? You just hate that I’ve grown a fucking back bone!” You fought against him but he was stronger.

“You think cheating on your husband is the same as my trying to protect you from what I’m doing?”

“Project me? Oh please.” You scoffed. “I have killed three people Spencer, I don’t need protecting.”

“Who was he?” He asked again, slamming you into the wall once more. “Or did you even stop to get his name before you spread your legs for him?”

“Fuck you!” You screamed in his face.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you little whore. What kind of man fucks a married woman? A married woman he just picked up in a bar who he doesn’t even know? It actually says more about the man himself than you.”

“Fuck you!” You repeated, louder this time. “Jesse is twice the man you’ll ever be!”

It was a complete slip of the tongue. You didn’t think you meant to implicate Jesse in that way but your rage had taken over.

Spencer suddenly softened and his hands fell from your arms to his sides and he stumbled backwards like you’d punched him in the gut. He blinked at you as you kept yourself pressed against the wall.

“Jesse?” He croaked. “As in that fucking mountain man? He was here? You and him…? You really know how to fucking hurt me, don’t you?”

He fell back to the couch and put his head in his hands. He thought you loved him, he thought he knew you. Maybe it was all an act that he’d fallen for hook, line and sinker. Maybe he’d never really known you, maybe he never would. Maybe you’d been on completely different pages all along.

When had your heart ceased to beat for him, when had it turned numb? He loved you with every fibre of his being but perhaps it was time he let you go.

Because as he looked at you now, he had no idea who you were. Behind your eyes you were a perfect stranger disguised as the woman he loved. You were nothing more than a mysterious effigy of the heart you’d broken.

Miss Mysterious, who are you?

Who's the girl behind those eyes? Just a stranger in disguise?

Miss Mysterious, who could you be?

Where's the ghost of what we had? Did you erase it from your past?

Oh, so I pointed in every direction,

Oh well, looking for answers I'll never know.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

Miss Mysterious, may I ask:

Is your sunshine like my rain? Is your pleasure like my pain?

So delirious, casting your stones,

With the blood fall to my face,

Hoping that you'll lose your aim.

Oh, well it looks so bright with the lights out,

Oh well, I guess our stars forgot how to glow.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

No baby you, you broke my heart,

Now how do I get closure when you're only ever closed off?

Tell me who could take your place?

When these memories are telling me,

That we were not always,

Now don't even try to tell me that I should just relax,

And we're not strangled and over the tracks.

I tried to reach, I stretch out my hand but you turned around instead,

So many nights living inside just to connect with you.

Now I'm trying hard to win this but we've lost all we can lose,

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right?

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone".

Said if you love someone,

Now if you love someone,

Let them go.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

#spencer reid #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year ago

Note

Number 15 for Alucard, it'd be so cute!

A/N: I don't think this is the fluff you were expecting LOL I promise it's a happy ending but the angst took over. In case you (or anyone else) was wondering the song is Cherry Wine by Hozier (i'm in my feels right now about this man I'm sorry) Anyways I hope you like it mwuaaah

"Sing to me again" x Alucard

Fight.

Attack.

Defend.

Alucard couldn’t think of anything except you and the baby while he was on the front line. The village had been so peaceful, for long he nearly forgot there were still monsters crawling around in the world. The stragglers that had grown stronger, the ones who persevered throughout the days, weeks, months. The stragglers that had already killed some of the makeshift infantrymen, the ones who have had nothing but time on their hands and are so hungry they see red. The stragglers that had Alucard running out to defend the village while you stay hidden away deep in the castle, barricaded and locked behind the safety of your shared home. They were evolved, instantly locking onto the dhampir who was the strongest amongst the men, bloodied grins widening: teeth sharp as blades that could tear through muscle and sinew with ease. Alucard steadied himself, gripping a little tighter onto his shield and sword, kissing its hilt and imagining your sweet face, the sweet face of his newborn daughter, and lunged.

You were frantic, trying so hard to stay calm if only for your energy not to be poured into the babe huffing and crying in your arms. You’d been trying to put her to bed, but how could she? How could she sleep when she felt your panic, your anxiety pulsing into the very air she breathed in? How could she sleep when your soothing rocking was more jarring than anything, your voice shaky as you shushed her? How could you ever expect her to calm her sorrows when, if you tried hard enough, you heard the incessant howls and screeches from the deadly monsters outside castle walls. You prayed, you prayed to all the deities and gods that could ever possibly exist to bring your Adrian back home. You’d never worry like this, he’s so strong, fending off the monsters with ease. But you’d never seen him so nervous like this either: having the heavy knocks of men on the castle doors begging for saving. The sheer strength of the creatures overwhelming them.

What felt like days passed, it could have been a few minutes, it could have been a few hours. You’re not sure, you and your daughter going in and out of sleep, waking at every creak and bang that was heard. You shushed and cooed, steadying yourself the best you could to maybe sing a lullaby to your darling girl. “Shh, shh, I know sweet pea--I miss him too. But he’ll be safe, he’ll come back..” You whispered, kissing her forehead as a tiny hand balled into a fist rubbed at scrunched up eyes.

Her eyes and words are so icy oh, but she burns like rum on the fire. Hot and fast and angry as she can be, I walk my days on a wire.

It looks ugly, but it’s clean, oh momma don’t fuss over me.

Way she tells me I’m hers, and she’s mine. Open hand or closed fist, would be fine. The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

The cries lulled to a few whines and whimpers, holding her to your chest as you continued your hushed tones.

Calls of guilty thrown at me, all while she stains the sheets of some other. Thrown at me so powerfully just like, she throws the arm of her brother.

But I want it, it’s a crime, that she’s not around most of the time.

Way she tells me I’m hers, and she’s mine. Open hand or closed fist, would be fine. The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

Singing has calmed you enough to keep a gentle bounce, baby slowly falling asleep in your arms. You internally sighed, thankful that at least the immediate worry of your child has been quelled.

Now all you can do is wait for your beloved.

Alucard ended the life of the final monster, hearing the victorious cries and hollers of the villagemen around him. He was grateful the battle had ended, retreating quickly to your shared home, finally able to hold you in his arms. Slowly, he opened the doors, knowing any sudden movements could stir his (hopefully) sleeping baby girl. He didn’t want to increase your stress, already guilty that he had to leave you in disarray. He made his way to the room he’d left you in, sure you’d still be in there: the nursery. The very nursery that you two built with your own hands, right next to his old bedroom.

Just like Vlad and Lisa.

As Alucard got closer, he heard small hiccups and babbles from his daughter, along with the soft singing coming from you. He recognized the song, a song you’d often sing to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. The same song you’d sing into his hair when he was half asleep. He pressed the door open, his heart stopping at the very sight of you whispering the song into your daughter’s fluffy mess of a head, eyes closed. You hadn’t noticed him, and he was grateful. He wanted to just take in the moment, all panic and anxiety of constantly thinking that something might have happened, that something might have gotten through the castle, all quelled the moment he saw you both.

He let you finish, giving you a moment before softly knocking on the door, your eyes darting to him immediately, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “Adrian..” You whispered, voice heavy. He crossed the threshold, kneeling at your feet and holding you both without disturbing the sweet babe. “Oh thank god you’re safe.” You did your best not to cry, you really did, not realizing just how scared you were for his safety. But he was alive and well and back in your arms. “I’m here now, love, I’ll keep you both safe always.” He whispered into your hair, looking down at his baby with adoration.

“I heard you singing, love.” You hummed, calm enough now to put your girl down in her crib. The moment you sat back down though, Alucard’s head rested on your lap, hugging at your legs. You pet his hair, combing your fingers through the blond tresses. You hummed the melody of the song to him as his eyes fluttered close, breathing even. By the end you’d thought he’d already falling asleep, instead he spoke a whisper: “My darling, will you sing to me again?” Your heart clenched, and with a smile you responded:

“As long as you keep coming home to us, I’ll sing to you every day.”

#milk writes #adrian tepes #alucard #alucard x reader #castlevania #adrian tepes x reader #alucard tepes x reader #castlevania (2017)#milk flufftober

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watsittoyah · 1 year ago

Text

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Some mentions of multiple dimensions. Oral sex, slight rough sex, slight blood play, passionate love making…

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 14- Pumpkin Pie Is Best Served Cold Pt.2

Three weeks later..

“She was a daughter, a brilliant mind, and most of all she will be missed. Many people didn’t know my sister but I did. She was kind, and she loved her family. I just…I just wish she had gotten the help she needed when she was alive…”

Dominic D’Angelo, Dana’s younger brother was speaking and you were in the far back row.

Why were you at the funeral of the woman who hated your very existence?

That was simple to answer for two separate reasons.

1. You wanted to make sure Dana D’Angelo was actually dead.

And..

2. You wanted answers for the inner battle you had in your mind.

The emotions you felt for Dana were simple and complicated. You hated her but you also felt bad for her only because you could see yourself in that casket. She did terrible things, but if you were in her shoes would you had been able to resist the temptation to have all you wanted? To have the life you once had and all you had to do was make one persons life miserable?

A part of you, the cynical part of you, wouldn’t hesitate. But the other part, the compassionate part of you couldn’t do it.

From how Dana did everything you can tell that love makes you do crazy things.

As you glance down the aisle you see the casket was closed. Which was wise since her little pumpkin did explode and burned 98% of her body. And she did well she did smack deep into the pavement.

As the funeral had moved outside you were walking away from the crowd. You saw from the distance Dana’s family crying. Her mother had fallen to her knees and you just couldn’t take seeing that.

As you walk to your car, you get a call. You look at the screen and see it was Miguel. You let it ring and waited five more minutes just so it would seem as if you missed his call. You then send him a text before driving out of the parking lot.

Hey just out running errands, I’ll be home soon. Love you.

You hated that you had to lie about going to Dana’s funeral but this was the first time Miguel had let you out of his sight since the incident.

The thought of Miguel’s shoulder snapping when he caught you still gave you nightmares and you needed some time alone.

You needed to think about what you know, and you wanted to talk about it with Miguel but he was still in shock that you had almost died.

It didn’t help that when you two slept in the same bed, he held onto you just a little too tight. He would wake up every night checking to make sure you were still there. You had to practically beg Miguel to let you go out for a while.

You drive back to the apartment but you start to feel your hands shake on the steering wheel. You pull into your parking spot and you shut the car off, sitting in silence. The pain crawls into your chest and you clench your jaw feeling it finally spread over you.

You lean your head against the steering wheel and you cried hard. Letting your emotions go. Everything, every emotion just hits you like a freight train and you wanted it to stop.

You had another life, whether it was from another universe, it didn’t matter. You had another life, you were a mother. A wife. Your parents were still alive. You were working as a tech engineer. You had the life you always wanted. And thanks to Dana, it was gone.

You feel the cry in your chest get ugly and your body jerked, when you hear something knocking on your window. You were going to ignore whoever it was outside your window until you heard his voice.

You use your sleeve to dry your eyes and you roll down the window to see Miguel. His eyes were a blood shot red as if he didn’t sleep while you were gone.

Understanding how he had became for the past few weeks he probably hadn’t slept. “Amor, do you want to talk?” He asks in a soft voice as you sniffle back the tears. “P…please.”

“Vamos adentro, mi amor.” He steps back and you roll the window back up and you take your key out of the ignition. Once you’re outside of your car you lock the doors and Miguel takes your hand. His touch was ever so gentle as he held your hand.

He must think you’re going to crumble from his touch.

Once you’re inside he guides you into his apartment and he locks his door behind himself. “D-” You raise your hand and you go to the kitchen. You grab a glass and take a pitcher of water from the fridge and pour yourself a glass.

You drink the crisp water and stand there feeling him studying you. You keep your back to him and put the pitcher back. When you turn to him you feel your lip tremble.

“I…” You try to collect your words and get it together. “I seen. I seen everything. I don’t know what Dana did to me but I seen the life we had. All of them.” You mention to Miguel as you see what he has to say. He was silent.

“I dream about those lives. And when I wake up, baby I curl up into a ball and I want to sleep again. To know that in another world , my parents, my ambitions, our son…is there. I want that so much. But I am happy in this world because you’re in it. You are my happiness. Eres mi corazón en forma humana.” You smile because you remember what that phrase means to you, you remember the story and feel your chest swell because he was telling you the whole time.

“I love you so much Miguel, I think I did the day we met. And to know that we always find each other in every universe is…amazing. But I am scared. I’m scared because I don’t want you taken from me. Miguel I went to Dana’s funeral and all I could think of is that that could’ve been me in that casket. I could’ve been the one who ruined someone’s life just to have that happiness. I…I don’t want to lose you.”

You let out a sob and Miguel makes it across the room to you in three strides. “Amor, no me perderás. I’m here. I am here and I don’t plan on leaving or being taken from you. I would fight heaven and hell just to stay by your side.” He holds you and you wrap your arms around his waist. If you could you’d hold him until your bodies had molded together.

“I’m also sad because you knew what we had on that earth and yet you couldn’t say anything. I bet you felt so lonely looking for me.” You say in his chest.

He moves your face so that you’re looking up at him and he kisses your head. “I wanted to tell you the moment I saw you in the parking lot when your bottle hit my foot. But I didn’t want scare you off. So I waited, it’s funny I think I would’ve waited forever for you to see it.” He then hugs you again and you buried your face into his chest.

“That won’t happen again will it? The portal thing?” You ask him. “No, amor. I’ve been monitoring the whole situation. As long as there aren’t any anomalies-“

“Anomalies?” You question him as you look up. “In our case it would be a person or thing that would deviate from our norm. I’ve had Lyla scanning and so far there are none.” Hearing that name makes your ears perk up.

“Lyla…you created her but I helped you with giving her emotions.” You word vomit as you chew your bottom lip. Miguel pulls your lip free and nods. “She’s been wanting to see you but you can have your reunion later. Right now you look like you could use a hot meal and some rest.”

You place your hand on Miguel’s stubbled cheek and give a small laugh. “You’re one to talk, you look so tired. How about we take a nap and then we can eat.” You suggest. “Eso suena amoroso.” He takes your hand and he tugs you towards the bed room.

You follow and when you two make it to the room, he closes the door and he turns to you. Miguel kisses your lips gently at first and he helps you strip off your shirt. You strip down to just your underwear and he leans away from you for a second, grabbing one of his t shirts and handing it to you.

You pull it over your head and arms, letting the cool red and blue fabric slide down your body. Miguel had taken off his shirt and pants. Kicking his things to the side as he stands in his boxers and then he guides you to the bed.

When you crawl into bed together, you cuddle up close to Miguel and he this times holds you but not too tight. He knows you’re there and he knows you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

You two lay there in silence and sigh. “Are you even tired now?” You ask feeling wide awake. “Estoy bien despierto, amor.” The both of you chuckle and you lean up on your elbow and look at him.

“Baby, you know how I feel about this. But what do you think about all of this?” He trails his fingertips against your thigh and he thinks for a moment. “I feel, and don’t be mad. But I feel happy that you know. And I want to apologize for making it seem as if I was gaslighting you, because I saw the signs. The way our bodies just knew each other. The way we just knew each other? There’s no hiding that. And if you have questions about anything, then I will answer them.”

You then reach out and touch the few grey hairs at his temple. “Now tell me how you felt when you saw I almost died.” Miguel’s fingers on your thigh freezes.

“I don’t want to-” You stop him. “I’ll tell you how I felt. I felt scared, I felt angry and I just felt sad. All of those emotions were running through my head. I felt scared because for that split second I thought you weren’t going to catch me. I thought I was going to eat pavement and you were going to be alone again. I felt angry because of Dana and at you. I was angry with you because in that moment you didn’t protect me from her kidnapping me. But it was on me, I did tell you to get my purse at that time. And I felt sad because I felt like I had so much to live for, I want to get that future with you. I wanted to be with you, baby. But when you saved me I was relieved. A little scared because of how your arms snapped out of place, but you reassured me that you’d heal. So thank you for giving me a second chance at life.” You lean over and kiss his lips and you feel his mouth tremble.

The next thing you know is you’re on your back and Miguel was on top of you. His position had reminded you of a bird being in a cage and you were the small bird.

His eyes were a mixture of hazel and red, but the thing that broke your heart was there were tears in them. They didn’t fall, they were at the edge of his pretty eyes.

“I thought I was going to lose the love of my life. All those memories and new ones, all of those times I’d look at your beautiful face…I thought it was going to be the last time. I saw our lives flash before my eyes. Our son would never be born, your dreams would never come true. We’d never get married. I would never get to hold you again. My entire world was going to die. I am grateful I saved you. But amor I have nightmares at night. You’re not there and I’m searching for you. I’m calling your name and you don’t answer me…”

Miguel closed his eyes and he was silent for a second. “…I always find myself in the dream walking down this long and dreary road, and when I get to the end of it I…I see your grave. I fall to my knees and I cry. I cry because you’re gone and I’m alone in the universe again. When I wake up, I panic because I think you’re gone but you’re there so I hold you close and I thank God you’re still with me because if you’re not here, then this world will not have a spider-man because I would join you.”

The tears rolls down his cheeks and you reach up wiping them away. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever speak like that. I want you to be happy, Miguel. Even if it’s not with m-” He leans down capturing your lips with his and you feel more tears hit your face.

He pins your hands down and he kisses you. You can tell he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore so you don’t push. You kiss him back and you wrap your legs around his waist. He lets your hands go and he holds your face, continuing to kiss you.

His kisses go from gentle to hungry. Miguel releases your lips and he looks down at you. He’s silent but his movements were loud as he scoots down, his nose trailing close to your lower stomach.

You get goosebumps as his eyes stay locked on yours for a moment. He inhaled deeply and he kisses your lower stomach. You feel his fingers slides your panties pass your hips and you lift a bit to help. He brings them to your ankles and he tosses them somewhere in the room.

Miguel looks back at you and you feel his warm breathe against your skin. He looks away just to part your legs and he looks at you again through his lashes as if he’s asking permission to continue.

You give a subtle nod and he kisses your inner thighs. He trails his lips down to your legs and you watch as each kiss was passionate. He lifts your right leg and he kisses your ankle. He rubs your foot and does the same to the left.

“I want you to know, that I will make sure to never put you through that again. I will protect you, our unborn child, our future. I love you so much that my heart aches when you’re not there. My body misses you when you’re not close. I will forever love you, Tommie O’Hara. Because you are my universe. And if you’ll let me, I want to show you what you mean to me. Let me show you. Let me just worship you in this moment, mi pequeña diosa.” He places your leg down and he knees, while parting your legs.

He parts your lips with his fingers and he licks your inner lips slowly as he twirls his tongue. Your eyes roll closed as he sucks your clit. You feel your hips get into a rolling motion and you only open your eyes as you feel him sucking.

You look down at him and he gives a few lazy licks and he takes his hands and parts your legs wider as he hooks his arms under your thighs.

You let out a strangled moan as he slides his tongue in and up hitting your g spot. You feel his tongue twirl inside of you and jerk a bit, feeling the sensation to move. “Amor be still for me.” Miguel moans as he dips his tongue back inside of you. You obey and find your fingers in his hair.

“Miguel….” You moan out as you hook your leg so he can’t move. He had buried his face inside of you and you feel him licking and sucking at the same time which makes you stutter out that you’re getting close.

He doesn’t say a word, he only continues to lick and suck. You move your leg and you move his head so you can fuck his lips. He just moans. Your orgasm builds as he nose rubs against your pulsing clit. You were going to come hard and fast for this man.

You lift your legs just a bit as our orgasm intensifies. “Mi-baby, yes just like that, just like that don’t stop.” You let his hair go and he flicks his tongue making you stutter out words in pure gibberish and bliss.

You swear you saw stars as Miguel sucked your juices. He uses his spit and he glided his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your body jerks from that sensation. “Mm, baby.” You warn, but Miguel wasn’t listening.

He was gliding his tongue over and over repeatedly making your back arch away from the bed. You whimper and whine as the keeps going. You try to move away but he grips you tighter and you whimper out your moans. As you come again he does a deep suck and you groan for him to stop.

When he lets your legs go, you felt that if you got up right in this moment you’d fall. His chin and lips were wet. He leans over you and as he kisses you, you taste yourself. He moans as he takes your hand and places it on his crotch.

He was hard as a rock. “Off.” You tell him weakly. In a swift move he strips off his boxers and you yank off the shirt you were wearing. He had you in the middle of the bed and the tip of his dick was just slick with his pre.

You look at him and you were biting your bottom lip. He takes your legs and places them on his shoulders. As he pushes the head in, the both of you let out an opened mouth moan.

He moves his hips and he slides in slowly, savoring your tightness and you grip his arms as he rests his weight on you. When he’s inside of you fully, you reach down to touch your clit but he stops you. “Déjame encargarme de eso, amor.”

He rubs his thumbs against your clit and you shiver from still being sensitive. He slowly pulls out. But he keeps the tip inside of you. “You’re so beautiful, when you’re under me, amor.” He says as he slides deep back inside of you.

You moan as you feel your nails dig into his arms. He starts to pick up the pace but he does deep long strokes. “Miguel, please just like that.” You pull him down and kiss his lips. Your tongue twirls with his and you feel his sharp fangs against your tongue. Miguel holds your face as he kisses you. You bite at his bottom lip and he groans.

You go to do it again but he pins you down and he rocks his hip, hitting all the right spots inside of your clenching and pulsing tight pussy. “Please do it, just let me feel them.” You whimper in his ear as he stuffs you deeper.

He does as your request and he bites down on your shoulder. You gasp out loud as you feel your entire body give a heartbeat. He lets go with his dangerous jaw and he kisses you with his blooded lips.

Your hands rake through his raven colored hair and you moan out you’re going to come. With that comment. Miguel lifts you up and he moves to the edge of the bed. He lifts you up and down as he fucks you passionately. You lean forward and he palms your ass as you feel you’re all the way at the base of him.

“Ven por mí.” He moans in your ear. You feel his dick twitch which tips you over the edge. You both come together and you make a mess of his dick as he still pumps deep inside of you.

You both hold each other as he lets your legs down. You smile like an idiot which was contagious because Miguel was smiling as well.

“You know you can still back out, start over with another version of me.” You tease. He scoff and buried his head against your chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Tommie. You and I are locked in for life.” The both of you laugh as he lifts you up and places you on the bed.

You snuggle up with Miguel as sleep starts to hit you. “I can’t wait for the future.” You hear Miguel mumble as he falls fast asleep. You lean over and kiss his temple as you pull the sheets over on the two of you. “Neither can I.” You whisper as you lay on his chest and fall fast asleep…

••••

Two years later…

You were crying while eating your grandmother’s potato salad. “Baby cakes what’s wrong?” She asks as she checks on you. You had your bowl sitting on your swollen belly and you were wiping the tears away.

“It’s so good. I want to eat this everyday.” You tell her as you take another bite. “Barbra let that girl cry, she might just go to sleep.” Your grandfather says as him and Miguel walk over with the grilled food. “Amor can I get you anything else?” Your husband asks. You shake your head and lick the plate.

“Tommie, please don’t do that. There’s more, I promise.” You feel your face warm from the embarrassment as your grandmother takes the plate from you. This little boy made you have the strongest cravings.

Last week all you wanted was pineapples and whip cream. Today you wanted a whole bowl of your grandmothers potato salad. You go to get up and Miguel was right there to help. “Easy amor, you’re carrying our legacy in there.” He says as he kisses your cheek.

“I know, baby. I’ll be careful. But boy, this baby is kicking my butt. One second he’s in the front and next he’s kicking near my side. Here.” You take Miguel’s hand and place it on your side. You two wait and sure enough there was a kick. Miguel’s eyes light up and he smiles wide. He kneels down and he kisses your dress covered stomach.

“Hola, Xavier. We can’t wait to see you next month.” He says causing you to poke your bottom lip out and cry. “Mi corazón please don’t cry.” Miguel stands up chuckling.

“It’s just I can’t believe we’re going to be parents next month, we’re really going to meet this little person and he’s going to look so cute in all the outfits we got him. And-“ You feel a sharp pain and you grab Miguel’s hand. “Sh…shoot.”

“I got you, come let’s sit down and do those breathing exercises.” You shake your head and feel fine just then. “I’m okay, I just need to use the bathroom. Can you help me?” Miguel agrees and he helps you inside.

As the two of you enter the kitchen your hand bumps into your metal bottle and it falls. Miguel grabs it up effortlessly and places it back on the counter. You smile at that since that’s how you two had met.

You go to the bathroom but you tug your husbands hand and pull him inside with you. He chuckles as you stand on tippy toe. He leans down careful not to bump your stomach and he kisses you.

“Mmm, did you actually have to use the bathroom or did you just want to have me all alone?” Miguel asks as he looks down at you lovingly. “I’ll confess I wanted you alone. But can you blame me, we haven’t had much alone time this weekend. I actually can’t wait to get back to the house.”

“I know how you feel, but you have to admit it’s been relaxing being here.” You nod. “It has, but maybe it’s just my hormones but I have been wanting you more and more this past month.” Miguel lifts you up and places you on the sink, getting a giggle out of you as he settles between your legs.

“Is that so, Mrs O’Hara?” Miguel says as he kisses your neck. “Mmm, it is Mr O’Hara.” You answer as you feel him lifting your sun dress.

You lift up a little as he tugs your panties off and he kisses your lips. “We can’t make any noise and we have to be quick, amor.” Miguel says as he unzips his pants. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.” You whisper as you spread your legs wider. Miguel positions himself perfectly and he rubs just the tip.

“Amor, you’re so wet.” He softly moans as he slides the head in. You bite your bottom lip and nod. “Been wet since this morning. I had a dream you and I were on our honeymoon. Remember how that went?” Miguel nods as he places his hand against the mirror behind you and he slides in, causing the both of you to moan.

“This pussy is too good, fuck.” Miguel moans a bit loud. You clamp your hand over his mouth. “You can’t be too loud, remember?” He nods and he starts moving his hips. You eyes rolls back as you keep your hand over his mouth.

“I’ll…I’ll admit when the baby comes we won’t get much time like this.” You whisper out. “I’ll find a way for us to have alone time, amor. Don’t you worry about th-shit!” Miguel groans which causes you to take your panties and shove them in his mouth.

“Baby, just fuck me and be quiet, please.” You say as you grab his ass and pull him in so he can fuck you deeper. He groans something and you feel him pulse inside of you. “Ju…just like that make me cum baby, make me cum.” You moan out. He covers your mouth now and he spits out your panties.

“Sh…shh. If you’re too loud I’ll st…stop. Now be my good girl and let daddy fill this little greedy cunt.” He lifts your legs over his shoulders and he pounds into you. You head bumps against the mirror which causes it to open and a few medicine bottles spill. But the two of you don’t stop. Miguel looks at you with lust in his eyes and your eyes start rolling back as you start to feel yourself about to come.

“You’re squeezing down on my di-baby you’re so wet oh m-” He grabs the back of your head and he pounds into you as you clench and come causing a mess on his pubic area.

Soon after Miguel’s thrusts get sloppy and he came deep inside of you. The both of you catch your breathe and when you notice the spilled items from the mirror you both chuckle.

“Worth it.” You say as he lets your legs down. “Definitely worth it.” He kisses your lips and he helps clean up. “Do you think we’re going to be good parents?” You ask as he helps you off of the sink after pulling your panties up. “I know we will, in every universe we’re good parents.” You chew your thumbnail and Miguel stops you. “Don’t be nervous, Tommie. You’re going to be a wonderful mother. I promise.” You go to speak but just then you double over and grip his hand.

“Ow, ow, o-Ahhhhh!” You let out a blood curdling scream and Miguel scrambled quickly yanking open the bathroom door. “What’s wrong, Tommie?” You look down and you have this sensation to pee.

You quickly try to make it to the toilet but you feel a gushing feeling between your legs just as you go to sit.

You lock eyes with Miguel and his eyes were wide. “Baby my water br-ahhh!” You grab his hand and squeeze as pain shoots through you.

Miguel scoops you up and yells out that’s you’re in labor. He places you on the couch in the living room and you hear your grandparents rushing into the room. Your grandfather was grabbing your bag, while your grandmother was on the phone with telling the operator to connect her to the hospital.

Miguel was kneeling beside you and you were in tears. “I…is it suppose to hu-ahhh!” The pain was getting intense and all you wanted to do was push. “Miguel, he’s coming now. We need to go.” You tell him through clenched teeth. He nods and he helps you up.

In a matter of seconds it seems, Miguel was in his car with you in the passenger seat. “Toma mi mano y respira amor.” You take his hand and take deep breathes as your contractions start to come quicker. “We’ll meet you at the hospital Miguel!” Your grandmother says as her and your grandfather gets in his truck.

Miguel doesn’t even give a response he simply peels out of the driveway and he takes the faster route to the hospital.

You feel something leaking and when you reach down you bring your hand back up. You’re in panic because you see blood. “Miguel!” You scream. He presses the gas harder and he drives as fast as he can without causing an accident. “Just breathe, Tommie. Just breathe we’re almost there.” Miguel says as he runs a red light.

More pain shoots though you and you can’t wait, you start to push as he drives up to the Emergency Entrance. You scream that it hurts and Miguel takes you out of the car. Your blood was all over the front seat and on Miguel.

He runs inside causing the nurses at the front desk to jump. “My wife, she’s hurt and she’s in labor please!” They work quickly and they bring you to a room. You feel your heart beat speed up as they tell Miguel he has to stay back. “No! He comes! He comes with me!” Miguel pushes past the nurses and he holds your hand. “Amor I’m not going anywhere.” He tells you as they wheel you to a room.

The nurses hook you up to a machine and a lady doctor she enters the room quickly and she puts on gloves. “How far are your contractions ma’am?” She asks as she lifts your dress seeing the blood. “F..four minutes apar-ahhh!” You scream as the doctor inserts cold metal inside of you. “Do you have to do that!” Miguel snaps. “I apologize sir, but your wife is in labor and she’s hemorrhaging. We need to move fast before her and the baby dies.”

Miguel moves over to you and you feel scared. “Xavier is going to be alright, right? Our son is going to be okay?” You ask in a panic. “He is going to be fine. Look at me, Tommie. Our son is going to be fine.” Miguel comforts you.

You nod and your legs are placed up and spread. “Alright Mrs O’Hara, I am going to ask you to push. Your baby is already crowning. Once we get them out we can stop the bleeding. Okay? Now give a great big push.”

You do what the doctor says and you give a push. The sensation was terrifying for you but you had to stay brave for your son. You give another push as instructed and you hear a cry. Miguel moves down and the look in his eyes were priceless as the doctor told him to cut his umbilical cord.

The doctor passes then Xavier over to another nurse so he can be cleaned and he gets suctioned. Miguel kisses your head as you feel happy he’s okay. “He is a healthy baby boy, who is four pounds and six ounces.” The nurse says to you. You go to speak but let out a scream you didn’t know you could do.

“Mrs O’Hara, your other baby. They seem to have the umbilical cord wrapped around their neck. Please wait to push while we get this handled.”

Your eyes widen. “Another baby? But how?” You had went to every appointment with Miguel and they doctors showed you the ultrasounds. It showed Xavier in the womb. How did this other baby not get seen? Unless they were hiding behind Xavier?

Miguel had a blank stare on his face but his hand was gripping yours.

The doctor tells you to give a push for her and you give a push, this time you feel excruciating pain when you push. You cry to Miguel how it hurts and the doctor tells you to give her one more push they baby was almost out. “You got this, amor. I’m right here with you.” Miguel says as he holds your hand.

You push one more time and you expect to hear a cry but your heart drops when you don’t hear the baby. “It’s a girl.” The doctor says as she brings your daughter to another table.

You listen, you hold your own breath and listen to her cry but you hear nothing. “Come on, little one.” The doctor says as she tries to help your unresponsive child.

Miguel was standing there solid as a rock as you try to peek. “Time?” The doctor calls out. No, no you’re not letting her go.

“Bring her to me, now.” You demand in a tone you didn’t know you had. Miguel moves and he takes the baby and brings her to you. You move down your dress and Miguel lays the baby against your chest.

“Come on, come on baby girl. You’re not going to give up. You haven’t lived yet. I refuse to lose you. Now breathe for mommy. Come on, you’re a strong little girl I know you are. You are your fathers daughter.” You place her on her stomach and you let her feel your heart beat as you gently tap her back. “You’re strong, because you’re my baby. Come on, come on baby girl, use your lungs. I just met you I’m not losing you.” You close your eyes and you kiss her little head.

You then feel a tiny heart beat against yours and when you open your eyes, you look down to see something yellow squirt from her mouth. Just then your daughter gives the loudest scream and you laugh because that is what you wanted to hear.

“That’s my baby girl. I knew you were going to live.” You kiss her little head as she keeps crying. You never wanted her to stop. Miguel look over at you and he has pure fear in his eyes for a split second, but it quickly leaves as he walks over and he looks at her. “Charlie, I want to name her Charlie after my dad.” You tell him as you feel tired. “Charlie O’Hara. I like that.” Miguel says as he just stares at his crying daughter.

••••

Miguel POV

It’s been six hours since the twins were born and I was walking down the hall letting Tommie sleep. Our friends and family had came to visit, and they were all happy to meet the two new additions.

But something is off, I can feel it. I wonder down a quiet hallway and I make sure no one was around when I bring my communicator out. “Lyla.” I whisper and she appears. “Hello daddy-oh.” She jokes but I didn’t see anything funny. “Geez, someone still doesn’t have a funny bone in their body I see.”

“Lyla I need you to do a scan for Charlie O’Hara.” I tell her as I think about my daughter. Fear came out of me as I laid my eyes on that little girl. “I’ll be back in a flash.” As I wait I close my eyes think about the tape I had received last year…

Tommie was with Erica and I was fixing up the bottom steps to our home. As I finished up, I see the mailman and gave a smile. “Good morning, Mr O’Hara. Just a package today.” I frown a bit. “Package? Maybe my wife ordered something.” He simply shrugs and hands it to me.

I freeze when I see who the sender was from. Even from the grave, Dana was still a nuisance.

I walk inside and I scan the package. There were no signs of a threat present but just to be safe, I had brought the package to the lab in the basement. I went to the safe room and opened the package only to see a DVD inside. On it were the words, play me. I grab my laptop from the other room and I place it inside. My laptop runs it through and a video pops up.

I scowl seeing Dana’s face on the screen and I press play. “Hello Miguel, if you’re watching this then I am dead. I’m sure you’re happy about that. But I just want to let you know, you can have your little Tommie, but I get to have your future. I won’t give away all my secrets. Some of them get to stay with me in the grave. But I know how much you find anomalies such a nuisance. So, enjoy this one. I’m sure you’re going to love it to pieces. Oh and tell Tommie I hope she falls and breaks her n-” I stopped the video and breathe carefully. “Lyla, scan for any anomalies.” I command. I wait for five minutes and she lets me no that there are no anomalies present in this universe.

“Vete a la mierda Dana….”

Back in the present I was waiting for at least six minutes for Lyla to give me an answer. She came back and she looked a bit worried. “What?” I snap at her. “Okay, don’t get mad at me I’m just the messenger. Alright well I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“The bad news.” You tell her. She gives a nod. “Well I scanned all of the universes and…there isn’t a single Charlie O’Hara present. From the scans Charlie…she’s going to cause a greater anomaly in eighteen years.” There’s no way my own child can’t an anomaly.

“And what was the good news?” I ask her. “You’re a dad to two healthy children.” I grit my teeth and I walk back down the hall.

If Dana had planned this whole thing then not only was she a mastermind but she was also vile for this.

As I reach for the doorknob I freeze. Because I remember something. In every universe I met Tommie’s parents except this one, which caused our daughter to be born. That event caused this, which makes me wonder what else is hidden in the cracks of the universe?

I walk over to my sleeping wife and I kiss her head. She stirs in her sleep a little and I hear one of the twins let out a little cry. On instinct, I go to my kids and I look down to see Xavier was peacefully sleeping. But Charlie was being fussy.

Tommie had managed to make some bottles for them so I grab one and I pick her up carefully. “It’s okay mija, daddy’s got you.” I give her, her bottle and she drinks. Her little hand wraps around my finger and as I look down at her I see her left eye turn blood shot red. I feel the spider connection and I shiver. This little girl is going to cause a greater anomaly?

“That’s going to be a problem…” I say as I watch my daughter's left eye turn to a dull glowing red…

Previously

Ahhh I can finally post these!! I made spidersona’s of the twins! I was inspired by Miguel's suits, Xavier took his colors from Miguel's updated suit and Charlie took her colors from Miguel's old suit. Both of the twins love their dad but clearly Charlie and Miguel bump heads...a lot.

#miguel o'hara #watsittoyah #along came a spider 2099 #along came a spider #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x tommie valentine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x black reader #tommie valentine #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x female reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman smut #marvel #across the spiderverse #spidersona #oscar isaac smut #oscar issac hernandez estrada

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desceros · 11 months ago

Note

Please spare us some more papatello headcannons 🥹🥹🥹 (I bet Donnie is the type to show off his baby mommy)

yessss an excuse to think about papatello tysm anon-chan!!!!

as per usual this got long so i'm sticking it under a cut bc i am OUT. OF. CONTROL.

thinkin about the first day of school. you'd insisted that lavi attends bc it's good for her socialization ("why would she need to talk to other people? i never went to school!" "yeah, hon, and look how you turned out." "perfectly capable of normal conversation!!" "...you asked me to marry you via text." "well sue me for wanting to be sure i got it right when just the thought of it made me flustered!" <- then you're both embarrassed), but donnie's not too thrilled. the whole morning he's sulking, pouting behind your shoulder as you take all the cute photos of her first outfit, writing a 5k word essay to put in her lunchbox saying how much he loves her ("don. donnie. love of my life. she's four. she can barely read go dogs go." "best she practice, then."). it's actually the worst... up until you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and reminding him that hey. hey. the four year old isn't here. wink. wink wink. (...donnie very quickly begins to espouse the value of a formal education.)

hm. executive decision that lavi has a sweet tooth. she's particularly fond of fruits, and she likes to come up to donnie while he's working and hand him an orange so he can peel it for her. without fail, he stops what he's doing and helps, taking one slice and calling it a 'papa tax'. then, one day, she comes to you and asks if you'll show her how to peel it. you're thinking hm. showing some independence, that's probably a good thing, so you do. only to have to bite your fist when you watch as she goes into the lab and crawls into donnie's lap, peeling an orange, and then handing him half. (he ugly cries a lot that night when he tells you about it.)

once mikey's hair starts coming in, i suspect she'd like playing with it. she'd rope him into having spa nights where the three of you do all kinds of self-care stuff like facials, hair masks, that kind of thing. donnie plays it up like he's super jealous, but you see the way he burrows his face into lavi's hair for their nighttime hug and smiles when it's nice and soft, and then when he comes to you and threads his fingers through your hair, murmuring a compliment at its texture into your nape.

during your pregnancy, he's a nervous wreck. the whole pregnant with a turtle mutant situation is already a lot on his nerves, but then on top of that, you don't call out of work. ("i'm pregnant, don. pregnant people work all the time. it's normal." "i'd argue that being pregnant with a turtle mutant is quite far out of the bounds of normal.") i think... the first real, actually nasty fight you ever have with him might be then. maybe the only one, but it'd be explosive. him concerned that you'll be somewhere, pregnant with what some would call a monster, having been bred by a monster, and if something happens, he'll be in his lab working, helpless, away. you don't take kindly at all to him calling your child (nor himself) a monster, even out of the mouths of hypothetical strawmen, and that plus the way he's catastrophizing every little thing strains your relationship to its snapping point. i think maybe for a solid month or so, it's. it's a real test of how much you love him, and how much he trusts you.

i dunno if i've already WOG'd this but if i did, i'm changing it and this is the official WOG statement that lavi's first word is 'papa' and donnie is FOREVER smug about it (even though, joke's on him, you find it absolutely adorable and are zero percent mad about it)

oh. lavi loves pineapple on pizza. the first time she tries it and it becomes her favorite, you laugh at donnie's face for like, ten years. sometimes you'll just be in the bathroom, brushing your teeth to get ready for bed, and he'll hear you start giggling where he's lying down reading and waiting for you to come in, and he just. grits his teeth bc he knows what's got you going.

there's a baby shark-esque song in universe that has a turtle instead of a shark on one episode of mrs. cuddles, and lavi fucking loves it. it's the worst ear worm in the entire world, and the entire lair quickly lays a ban on ever reminding her it exists. this is ultimately a failure, partially bc she is her father's child and thus the most stubborn creature ever to exist, but also bc leo actually enjoys it and ends up humming it under his breath while he's walking around. raph gets a little twitchy whenever he hears it, but he's the second-most vulnerable to lavi's charms (the first, of course, being donnie) so whenever she asks, on it goes, with him stiff as a board as she sits on his shell and claps her hands in delight.

#ask tag #papatello #fragment tag #ive been thinkin about what her ninpo and stuff would be but i'm still chewing on that so. to be continued #tmnt #rise #donatello/reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Drawn Together 17

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, spanking, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The night sees you in much the same trap as the one before. You’ve appeased Steve. For now. You know deep down, it won’t last. That it won’t be enough. Not in the end.

You sleep in the white satin he chose. He embraces you from behind, his hand cradles your chest as his breath whispers across your scalp. You’re suffocated by his warmth. You don’t move, the only time you’re truly alone is when he’s asleep.

You close your eyes to keep the tear from slipping past. You wiggle your nose as it tingles. The night breeze rustles the tree outside the window and carries the chirps of lively crickets. The song of the night is in disorder just as those that play in your head.

“Middle C,” the order comes and you set your hands just so. “Very good.” Professor Zemo praises as he flicks the metronome into a steady beat, “Begin.”

You hear the melody before your fingers pluck it out. It’s that magical sensation that overtakes you. The way your body moves naturally to create the music. As if it’s a part of you. You smile as you read the music, following along as the world pinpoints to the keys and nothing else.

“Posture,” Zemo squeezes your shoulder.

You fix your position and keep on, not missing a note. His hum underlines your symphony as you proudly play. He stays close by the bench, hand lingering on your sleeve, rubbing the fluttery fabric between his fingertips. You follow the highs and lows until you reach the end, hitting that final key with a flourish.

“You are improving,” he moves to stand behind you, close so that you feel the heat of him radiating around you. His other hand rests upon your second shoulder. “My dear, I must confess you are talented, if not the most talented student I’ve ever taught,” he bends and your skin pricks. What is he doing?

He presses his lips to your crown, “when you play,” he speaks into your hair, “you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

His hands wander down your blouse and he hooks beneath your arms. Your hands tamp down on the keys in surprise, a clatter of ugly notes all at once. He cups your chest through the layers of frills. You don’t know what to do so you do nothing. What can you do? He is your professor.

He pinches a button between his fingers and slowly undoes it, then another, and another. You shiver as he opens the front of your blouse. He stands straight to guide your sleeves down your arms. He steps closer and something hard presses to your back. You put your chin down as your lip trembles.

Coward.

You squeak as your eyes snap open. There is no relief to be found in waking. It’s not a dream but a memory. You feel a squeeze on your chest and your heart leaps into your throat. That speckling flame razes up your neck and across your cheeks. A furor you cannot bear.

You tear Steve’s arm away and push yourself out of the bed. You fall onto the floor, crawling away desperately as panic thrums against your ribs. Your arms shake and you fight not to collapse into a heap.

“Sweetheart,” Steve groans, his deep tones laced with fatigue and confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you stop and turn over, sitting on your bottom, “I just have to pee.”

You don’t move though. You can’t. You sit against the footboard and smother your mouth to keep your shallow breaths quiet.

“Hurry back…” his voice drifts off to a snore.

You shake your head as your eyes sting. You haven’t cried about this in years, so why now? Why do the ghosts have to come back and haunt you?

🌹

A rush of cool air flows over you as the blankets are torn away. Your shallow sleep cracks as you mutter cluelessly and fall onto your back. You squeak as you find Steve staring down at you, a hand planted on the mattress as he leans on one arm. You squeeze your legs together and cross your arms.

He caresses your shoulder, toying with the nightgown’s strap, twisting it as his fingertips brush your skin. Little specks of heat linger as he follows the lacy trim along your chest. You hold in a breath quivering at the intensity of his gaze as it trails his touch.

He pulls your arm away from your chest and the other slips down limply to your side. You’re paralysed. You’re too afraid to resist him as you watch his eyes. They are dark and distant as if possessed.

“You’re so sweet,” he tugs down the soft satin cup. You whimper as he bares half your chest. He cups your tit, fondling you as he groans. His thumb rolls around your nipple and you shiver. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’ve been good.”

He gropes you as he purrs and slides down the bed. He stretches his arm up and lifts himself to his knees. He forces your legs apart and settles between them. His other hand traces along your thigh as he lets out a deep breath.

He kneads your chest as he slowly bends. You’re terrified as his hand crawls beneath the hem of your nightie and inches it up. He spreads out on his stomach, keeping his arm snaked up your torso as he pulls your leg over his shoulder. He bows his head to nuzzle the front of your panties and you twitch.

He hums and squeezes your chest again. A warning. You grab onto his thick arm as he inhales you and presses his nose against the cotton. The vivid ink that stains his skin contrasts with your own. You grip him tighter as he hums, sending a ripple through you.

Your breath hitches as he wiggles his head against you. A damp heat permeates the front of your panties and he tickles you through the fabric with his tongue. His saliva soaks through as he pushes the cotton against your folds, suckling through the layer hungrily.

He traces his fingers down the crease of your leg and drags your panties to the side. His cool tongue meets your hot cunt and you gasp. His nails dig into your skin as he blindly gropes your chest, thumb catching on the slack satin.

You're helpless. Just like before. Too weak to fight. You just let it happen. You wince as the sheets brush against your bruises. What else can you do? He's not hurting you. Yet.

He laps between your folds as your legs quiver. You close your eyes as your grasp drifts down his arm, reaching weakly for his head. You feel completely exposed to him. You want him to stop but the flick of his tongue has you spasming. He swirls around your clit so that a pluck coils in your muscles.

You’re completely disarmed as spreads his tongue wide and tastes you. He slowly drags his tongue up and back down. Your thighs tingle as he seals his lips around your tender bud and the sudden pressure has you writhing. He groans as he uses the tip of his tongue to tease you.

Your back arches as you push your thigh against his head. His beard tickles you, another wave rolling through you. It’s too much and not enough. You want him desperately to stop yet fear that he will.

You moan and sink your head back in the pillow. Your hips rock as he flutters his fingertips along your ass, adding to the storm of sensation. Shame bubbles with something else. Something hotter. Irresistible.

You cry out as you lose control. As you succumb to him. No, he’s conquered you. You surrender in a spasm of delight, mewling between heavy puffs as you clamp your thighs around his head and twist wildly.

He doesn’t stop. He drinks you in desperately as you cum. He keeps on until you can’t. Your legs splay and your arms fall down limply. You lay quaking and whimpering as he sucks and licks at your cunt. He does so noisily rubbing his beard against your sopping cunt until you whine.

“Please,” you squeal as you reach for him, lifting your head dizzily, “please… Steve…” His eyes flick up as he swipes his tongue around your clit, “sir… I can’t… I can’t take…”

You drop your head back down as your hips jerk. Your voice swells out of you, blooming into moans and drones. You feel it again, the tempo building and building, until you can’t stand it. Your nerves scatter again in a violent chorus that has you clawing at the sheets.

He does not relent. Even as you writhe, even as you push on his head and beg. Please, please, please.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #drabble #drabble series #au #tattoo au #drawn together #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #steve rogers x reader

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takami-takami · 1 year ago

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thinking about post-war!Keigo where everything remains the same. Except his wings don't grow back. Everything repairs itself, everything changes back gradually to what it was before but his wings remain the same. Don't remain, rather. It's funny how slow he is, still not adjusted to all of this, given the very purpose of his existence lies in his ability to be fast. Doesn't matter that the reason for his speed is non-existent now. He's a hero, right? Heroes don't cry.

Heroes don't sob over their now-gone cause of existence.

Heroes don't just randomly forget they lost their wings one night, too busy staring at their lover's back with lost, blank eyes. Unaware of his woefully blank amber eyes, you lay beside him in his bed, which feels uncomfortably large now. Another form of failure that hurt his eyes if he didn't already have enough tears streaming down his ugly, scarred face silently, every time he had to begrudgingly look at himself in the mirror. Your attempts and pleas at spooning him tonight were hushed by his silent gaze. Please let me be useful, they pleaded. You gave up. Now gathered in his arms, both of you felt safe.

So safe that he forgot his empty back for a second. As instinct would have it, his back muscles flexed to move his wings to wrap around you. Closed amber eyes and a fuzzy head full of comfort hampered his worries and woes. His mind was too far gone in your soft to register the fact that he had been trying to do this for quite some time now. Unsuccessful attempts forced him to come back to reality. Body writhing, his eyes opened suddenly, wide and full of shock. His hands froze. Keigo slowly comprehended his actions. His eyes felt wet. Awoken by his movements, your body shifted in a frenzy as you turned to face him, eyes open but vision foggy from residual sleep. Out of pure instinct, you cupped his tear-stricken face as you tried hard to understand what the fuck was going on, the best your foggy mind could. His posture and expression worsened.

"Kei', honey, you okay? Kei', talk to me. Wh-" He fell to your chest hard. And bawled like a fucking child. Fists gripped the fabric of your shirt as he sobbed and cried, for god knows how long. You held him with equal force and gently rocked his body, despite a slight understanding of his sudden breakdown. To an extent, you were aware it was because of his wings, with the way he clutched your backside and felt it like it was his own. Whispering soft coos and sweet nothings into his hair continued for a while and near screaming and sobbing turned into silent cries. Eventually, he calmed down. Sensing his discomfort and heavy breathing, you combed your hands gently through his blond locks.

"I love you Kei', you know that right?" No response. Just faint nodding. You suppose that would do for now. uhh hey there V! Call me Rakuyou. This is my first time writing something like this. I've always admired people like you who can express their feelings in words so seamlessly and perfectly. I find Hawks' character quite admirable and well-written, and I most definitely don't gush over the boy every fucking moment. And as for this piece, I'd love to know some tips to write him well and some writing tips that you may wanna share. This might be a Wattpad-level fic at best, but I gave my best. Lemme know your thoughts on this one. I love Keigo and your work!

-Love, Rakuyou. (Crawls into a black hole and dies.)

I ... I do not have words for this. This knocked on my heart like it was a door and said "actually nevermind I'm coming in anyway" and smashed it to pieces on the way in.

#putting the rest of this in the tags to let your drabble speak for itself #but this is so good it feels so visceral. need to comfort this man. jesus.#WHAT DO YOU MEAN WATTPAD AT BEST IM SHAKING YOU !!!!!#also omg thank u for the kind words at the end that means sooooo much to me #my tip for you is never stop cooking cuz im eating this #💌 asks #💞

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winchesterwild78 · 8 months ago

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Chance meeting pt 15

Part 14

18+ Minors DO NOT interact

Please be kind and all mistakes are my own. All work is mine. Please don’t take or copy it.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, Jensen being a sweetheart

Chapter Warning & Summary: Angst, Fluff, people being ugly, insecure reader, Jensen being a sweetheart and falling in love

A/N: This chapter is Fluffy and has a little insecurity, then fluff…maybe foreshadowing 🥰. Our lovebirds are falling in love and everyone sees it😁

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You woke up to an empty bed. When you reached over and felt nothing you frowned a little. You rolled over and looked at the clock. It was after 9am. You crawled out of bed, showered, got ready and went downstairs. The house was quiet. You looked around for Jensen and the kids but didn’t hear or see them. You noticed a note on the counter.

Y/N,

Took the kids to the store so you could sleep. Be back soon.

Love,

You smiled and put the note down. You made a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen counter sipping it. You grabbed your phone off the charger and looked at the screen. It was full of notifications. Your eyes about popped out of your head. You opened Instagram to see hundreds of new follower requests and tons of tagged pictures from the con. Then you started reading comments. Some, most were supportive and sweet, but others were downright rude and hurtful. You tried to ignore them but for every sweet comment there were at least two ugly ones. So many people commenting about your weight, how you were a whore who threw herself at him in his vulnerable state, how his ex was gorgeous compared to you. One person even started bashing your children and called you a gold digger who was on the hunt for their new daddy.

Your heart broke and tears started streaming down your face. You knew this was going to happen, but this was not what you expected. You heard the garage door and quickly wiped the tears away and cleared your throat. You got up and started cleaning the kitchen to avoid eye contact with Jensen or the kids. You didn’t want them to see you upset. “Hey Miss y/n, we’re back and we got you a surprise” you heard Jensen’s son say. Jensen came up behind you and hugged you “good morning baby” he whispered in your ear as he placed a kiss on your cheek. He pulled back quickly because he felt the wetness. He spun you around to look at him and his face sank. He saw you were upset and had been crying.

“Hey guys, why don’t you go clean your rooms and the playroom. I need to talk to y/n about your presents” he said. The kids got excited and left the room. Jensen turned to you and took your hand. “What’s wrong baby? Is everyone okay, are you okay?” He asked with worry in his eyes. You shook your head no then looked at him and said “I shouldn’t have read the comments.” He looked confused for a second then he realized what happened. “Oh baby, don’t do that to yourself. There is always going to be nasty comments and posts about us. I know it’s hard but you’ve got to block it out. I love you, the kids love you and that’s all that matters” he said as he wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest and just cried. “I know Jens, but they said some horrible things. We haven’t even gone public with our relationship and they are trying to tear it apart.” You said through hiccup sobs.

Jensen realized you were right. The only thing he’s done was at the con, but nothing more yet. Nothing official that is. He knows the fans want confirmation of anything through social media or an official statement from his manager. He decided he was going to make it official. He calmed you down and got you a cup of tea.

The kids came back in and they were so excited to give you the surprise they had for you. Through all the crap you almost forgot. His oldest walked over carrying a small bag and all three kids were grinning ear to ear. She handed you the bag and said they all picked it out and wanted you to have it. You looked at them and then at Jensen. He was smiling and nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for Christmas” you asked. They all said “no, open it now please.” You took the bag and pulled out a small box. You looked confused but opened the box. Inside were three charms, 2 girls and 1 boy. The charms contained their birth stones. It matched the one you wore for your kids perfectly. You gasped and smiled. “It’s perfect guys. Thank you” you said hugging them with tears in your eyes. You took your necklace off and added the charms. Once you put it back on you put your hand over it and sighed. Jensen leaned down and kissed your head. “They wanted to be represented too. They love you so much already, y/n. We all do.” He said. You looked up into his eyes and smiled saying “I love you all too. So much”.

You took a picture of your necklace and posted it to your Instagram. Jensen also suggested you keep your original profile private and create one that is public if you wanted to. He explained they all do that so some things are kept private and others aren’t. You understood the need to share some to the fans and some things were kept private. He also suggested any pictures of family you didn’t want people to see faces you could always put a sticker over their face to protect their privacy. Again, another good point. He helped you create a public profile and he was your first follower. You giggled when it popped up. “Come here baby. Let’s take a picture together” Jensen said pulling you close. “I look horrible, Jens” you said shying away from the camera. “Nope, you’re beautiful.” He said as he snapped a picture of the two of you. You had to admit it was a pretty good one. Jensen posted it under his account and tagged you. His caption melted your heart. “Guys, this woman has stolen my heart and the hearts of my kids. She’s selfless, caring, loving and kind. Even if she’s a little shy in front of the camera. As you can see from the second picture I’ve already been replaced. 😉” He posted the picture he took of you and him, and the second was of you and his son snuggled in your lap. You smiled and then your phone started blowing up with notifications and new followers. All the comments were sweet and full of congratulations. You smiled as you read them. “See, babe they aren’t all bad.” He said kissing your cheek. “I know” you said. You pulled out your phone and added a comment on the post “oh Jens, you know I can’t resist his sweet face. I love you so much!”

Other people including Gen and Jar commented. What you didn’t expect was Jensen’s ex to comment. “Y’all this woman is amazing. She’s so good for Jensen and she’s amazing with our kids. She’s accepted me and everything that comes with our family. I’m so glad my kids have her in their lives. It looks like my little man has already gotten attached 🥰”. You smiled when you read her comment. Jensen kissed you softly and said “see it’s not all bad. They are gonna love you as much as we do.”

You posted the picture of your necklace and tagged Jensen. Captioned it with “I got to add 3 charms to my necklace today. Thank you to Jensen and the kiddos for the beautiful addition. Now all our babies will go everywhere with me. 💜💙💜💙💜” The response to your post was positive. Jensen of course had to add a sweet comment that got everyone commenting about how sweet you two were. Jensen reminded you not all the comments would be positive but to just remember it’s the love at home that matters most.

He’s absolutely amazing helping you navigate being in the limelight. You know it’s going to be hard at times, but with him by your side it’s going to be okay.

Jensen stood up and walked over to you with his hand out. You grabbed it and he pulled you up into his arms. “I love you, y/n” he said as he pulled you into a kiss. You melted into his arms and deepened the kiss. “Come on, let’s go get some shopping done.” He said as he pulled away. “Jar and Gen have offered to watch the kids while you and I go do a little present shopping.” He said as he pulled you into the living room. “Are they sure they want to watch them for the afternoon” you asked as he walked to grab his boots. “Of course they are. I told them you wanted to get the kids some presents and I wanted to go with my girl. They were more than happy to watch them. They are family, sweetheart and we have each other’s backs.” “Okay, let me go get ready. I’ll be down in about 20 minutes.” You said as you climbed the stairs.

You went upstairs and started to get ready to leave when you heard a soft knock on the door. You opened the door to see Jensen’s youngest daughter standing there. “Hey sweetie, you okay” you asked as you knelt down beside her. She looked nervous and a little worried. You noticed she started fidgeting with her hands and her voice came out almost in a whisper. “Yeah, I have a question for you Miss y/n.” You stood up and scooped her in your arms and sat on the bed with her. “Of course sweetie, what is it. You can ask me anything you don’t have to be nervous.” You said trying to reassure her. She sat on the bed still fumbling with her hands and wouldn’t talk. You knew it was something big otherwise she wouldn’t be so nervous. You were getting a bit nervous too the longer you sat in silence. “Honey, whatever it is you can ask me. I promise it will be okay.” You took her little hand in yours and rubbed it. Her head was still looking down and she said “do you really love my daddy?” “Yes, sweetie I do. I love your daddy so very much. He makes me feel safe and happy, and I love you guys too. Just like you were my own.” You said trying to get her to look at you. Her beautiful little eyes met yours and she took your necklace in her hand a gave you a soft smile. “We love you too and I know daddy does cause he wants to marry you. He told Uncle Jared he wanted to.” You smiled at her and gave her a big hug. You hadn’t noticed Jensen come to the door, he was watching and listening to the interaction between you and his baby girl with a smile on his face. “I would love to marry your daddy sweet girl. That’s just something we would have to decide together.” You said looking at her wide smile. You looked up and saw Jensen with a smile. He couldn’t believe how fast his children were taking to you. You smiled softly and she climbed down. “Okay. See you later” she said with a grin on her face.

“Hey sweetheart” he said with a smile. “Hey babe” you said as you stood up. “You know how much I love you” he said while placing a soft kiss on your lips. You smiled and said “I’m starting to think you’re not the only one.” “Nope, definitely not.” He said popping the “p”. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the room and downstairs. Jared walked in just as you got downstairs. “Hey guys, I’m here to grab the rugrats. Gen has a fun day planned for all of them while y’all go shopping.” You gave Jared a hug and told him thank you for taking them so you could go shopping with Jensen. “Not a problem, we’re family. Now I expect something amazing for Christmas” he said nudging you. You both laughed. Jensen grabbed the kids’ coats and you helped them put them on. Hugs were exchanged and the kids climbed in Jared’s car.

You grabbed your coat and purse and Jensen was grabbing his coat and keys. “Ready to go, sweetheart” he asked as he opened the door. “Yep, let’s go” you said walking outside. The drive to town didn’t take too long. Jensen grabbed his hat and sunglasses and you chuckled. You knew it wouldn’t help too much, but it was cute he tried. You had a list of gift ideas for everyone you planned to get something for. It was a longer list this year but you were so excited. You still hadn’t decided what to get Jensen, but you had planned to figure it out this shopping trip. Maybe Gen had some ideas. Jensen was walking hand in hand with you as you walked into the store. As you both made your way through the store you started to notice the stares and whispers. “I think you’ve been spotted” you whispered to Jensen. He looked around and grinned. “Yeah I think so too” he said trying to not make eye contact. For a few minutes you both walked through the store picking out gifts for everyone on your list.

Just as you were about to head to check out a woman came up to Jensen. “Um, excuse me are you Jensen Ackles” she asked with a little tremble in her voice. “Yes ma’am I am” he said flashing her that killer smile. “Oh wow, um can I get a picture and maybe your autograph” she asked. “Of course you can.” Jensen said then smiled for the picture. Pretty soon there were so many people around him and he was so gracious. You stepped back trying to give him space. He made eye contact with you and smiled a smile that seemed to say “I’m sorry”. You smiled and nodded your head. You knew this came with being with him. It was hard, but you know how much he loves his fans.

Store security arrived to see what was going on and thank goodness they helped with the crowd. After about 20 minutes everyone had their pictures and autographs and you were ready to check out. Jensen walked over and pulled you into a hug. “I’m so sorry about that y/n. Usually it doesn’t snowball like that” he said placing a soft kiss to your lips. “It’s okay babe. I understand.” You said offering him a smile.

You headed to purchase your items and Jensen walked beside you. You felt his eyes on you and you turned to see him staring at you. “What” you asked with a shy smile. He smiled and said “nothing just looking at the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever met.” You blushed and smiled. He always knew what to say to get you to blush and oh the butterflies that fill your body. You made your purchase and headed for the car. Jensen opened the trunk and helped you put the bags in. As he closed the trunk he put both of his arms on either side of you bracing you between the trunk and him. You looked up and he kissed you. No words were needed. The kiss said it all. He loved you and you loved him. What could possibly go wrong.

@kr804573

#jensen ackles x plus size reader #supernatural convention #chance meeting #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #hes gorgeous #jensen ackles x reader #so damn sexy #jackles

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