#I mean she uh did a little more than just imply | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shiningjustforreid · 2 months ago

Text

stains

glimpses through fem!reader and Spencer’s relationship, through four instances of spills.

word count: 3.5k ish

a/n: i love the idea that for some of us, our personalities are made up all the things we like about the people we know and see. the idea that we’re all little bits and pieces of the things we love, and our experiences. this sort of explores that. (also this was mildly self indulgent because much like reader i’m a klutz!) <3

warnings/tags: 18+ for implied intimacy and canon typical violence for cm, pet names up the wazoo, reader is lowkey clumsy, Derek Morgan being himself, reader gets injured but she’s fine, who’s Maeve?, anxious love confession, Spencer adores reader so so much, S1 and S6 (ish) Spencer, Spencer in and post prison, love letters, marriage, kids, and briefly mentioned pregnancy, girl dad!Spencer Reid my beloved

- ✩ -

coffee - the first stain

To be honest, at first, he’s appalled.

The mug you set down on his desk isn’t his, so God knows whose mouth was on it last. You - somewhat carelessly - plopped it down on the file he’s working on, grinning that thousand watt smile he’s secretly become fond of. You’re wearing a sweater he noticed that brings out your eyes - a berry colored wool garment that he wishes you’d wear more.

“Hey! Morgan said you were exhausted. Thought I’d make you coffee.”

You pick it up, and set it down again, for emphasis, and a few drops make their way down the side and onto his case file, surely creating a cinnamon toned half circle that Hotch will not love. You don’t notice, watching his face.

“I made it with a bunch of sugar. Just how you like it, right?”

Suddenly, he realizes he’s been staring up at you, and then his mouth is moving faster than his brain.

“Yeah, I uh, I am pretty tired, now that you say it. Didn’t sleep well, long night, you know?”

You nod, sipping your own coffee, fingers wrapped around the ceramic.

“I get that. Goes with the job, right?”

“Oh, absolutely, yeah, I- wait, Morgan said that? Did he— what else did he tell you?”

You grin, coffee mug to lips again.

Stop staring, Reid.

“Nothing, really. Just said you needed a boost. Thought I’d provide.”

Titling your head a tad, you look down, a mild panic crossing your face when you see you’ve stained his file.

“Oh my God - Reid, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

He’s quick to shake his head, hands coming up to reassure, his eyes wide.

“No no no, it’s okay, truly, I-I made a mistake on that one anyways. I’ll need to have a new copy printed, honest.”

Frowning, you look him over, searching for a tell, something to let you know whether he’s lying or not.

“Are you sure? I can do it, I’m not that behind on mine, I could—“

Before he thinks - you’d assume, with all his brains, he would - his hand grabs your arm, that gorgeous sweater under his finger tips, his eyes locked with yours. He says your name, once, his tone more serious than he’d like.

“It’s okay. Thanks for the coffee.”

You blink, and then a slow grin takes over your face.

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need more.”

For a moment, neither of you move, the heat of his hand burning through the wool on your arm, until he lets go like you’re the one scorching his skin, like he’s just realized that he’s touching you. You laugh a little, awkwardly, and he grins with the same level of unpracticed nerves, and you head back to your desk.

He picks up the mug, and sips slowly, closing his eyes for a moment - it does have a mountain of sweetness, the saccharine liquid coating his mouth but soothing his senses. When he sets it down again, it’s on a part of his workspace not occupied by case work. Just as predicted, the file that once housed the beverage now bears a semi circle of dried java. His pointer finger traces the stain, clockwise and then counter, for a moment, before he glances up in horror to see Morgan, of all people, signature smirk in place.

“‘Thanks for the coffee’. I don’t what’s sweeter, that coffee you just got or-“

“Shut up.”

He mumbles, face flushed, small smile on his face despite the teasing. He traces the coffee stain one last time before he hastily tucks the soiled paper away in a drawer.

blood - the second stain

“What do you mean you aren’t getting a response from her on comms?”

He’s so scared, he can’t even stop to think just how breathless and afraid he sounds, as he turns to Hotch, who fixes him with a look that clearly says, Calm down, Reid.

“It could just be non-functional, or got knocked off, or caught.”

Hotch says calmly, almost maddeningly so. Spencer swallows back the protests, the arguments that swell up in his throat like bile.

They’d created, and given the profile, and once Penelope had narrowed down the couple possible properties their potential unsub owned, you, Morgan, and Prentiss had headed into an abandoned storage facility, silent and careful.

Perhaps not careful enough.

The voice in his head reminds him, almost sadly, and he grits his teeth inside tightly drawn and chapped lips. Shaky hands smooth over his slacks, again and again, as his eyes stay fixed on Hotch.

“Ask-ask Morgan again. If she’ll respond.”

He’s given a frown, dark brows pulling together in a very typical Hotch-like manner.

“Is there a specific reason you’re asking about her, Reid?”

Is there? God, he doesn’t know. You bring him coffee nearly every morning, but perhaps that’s just kindness. Then there’s the chocolate sprinkled donuts that start his work day from time to time - maybe you just enjoy pastry treats, and think of him, when you buy one. Oh, and heaven forbid he forget the way you’ll come by his desk, and ask for clarification on a piece of paperwork or a procedure - that you probably could’ve asked Hotch or Prentiss about. You listen, active listening too, eye contact, body still - when his explanations turn into rambles about statistics about this type of criminal, your eyes watching his face, your own voice quiet.

Is he deluding himself? Seeing phantom romance where there’s maybe merely nothing but platonic affection? Blinking, once, he shakes his head in response to his Unit Chief’s question.

“No Hotch. I’m just worried, she-well, she hasn’t responded, and Morgan has, and Prentiss has, and I—“

Speak of the devil, Morgan’s voice comes through, demanding and tense.

“I need a medic. Prentiss and I secured the unsub, but, not before—“

Oh God. Not before that bastard got to you with a baseball bat, to the back of the head, you unaware before your face met the concrete below. Spencer’s not even asking for permission, snatching the keys to an SUV off the desk nearby and flooring the gas pedal.

You can’t die. Not before I—

Driving there is like hell - his lungs burn like there’s smoke and ash polluting them, and fear feels like too tame a word to describe the overwhelming panic that seizes his heart the more he drives.

I’m a fool, he thinks wildly, as his knuckles grip the steering wheel like a vice. A damn fool if I don’t tell her-

He’s barely got the thing in park before he’s scrambling out the driver’s side door, Converse immediately coated from the dusty ground outside the facility.

When he finds Morgan, and you, head lolled to the side, eyes closed, face pale as his must be, he falls to his knees with little regard for his own pain or discomfort. Morgan watches, careful, his voice gentle when he speaks, trying to calm his terrified friend.

“She’s still out, Reid. Just a nasty whack to the back of her head, okay? Easy.”

Trembling thumbs trace and hold your face, like it’s made of paper, as he swallows hard to keep the ache behind his eyes from becoming tear tracks down his face. He spots the gash, trickling crimson down your ashy skin, onto his shaking hand, but doesn’t move from holding your face. A deep contusion, furious and violet-toned, on the back of your head, makes the air leave his chest like he’s been choked.

Beautiful girl, I couldn’t stop this.

He could sob, and he nearly does, until you make some sort of confused noise and force open your eyes. Light rushes through his heart, rekindled warmth as he meets your eyes, and yet, he finds himself almost frozen.

“Spencer? What, I thought-“

“Listen to me.”

He forces himself to speak - he has too. What if he doesn’t get the chance, and all he ever gets to associate you with is caffeine, sprinkles, and a listening ear? No, that won’t do. Not in the slightest.

You meet his eyes, hazy, but listening. Morgan’s brows furrow, as he protests,

“God, man, she just woke up, let her-“

Ignored, as Spencer often finds himself doing when there’s more pressing matters than banter, than propriety.

“You need to know. That I-care about you.”

Blinking, you swallow, and suddenly, the throbbing pain in the back of your skull is slightly dimmed.

“That I can’t let another sunrise or sunset go by where you don’t know that I’d give you the stars if you’d let me. Where I can’t touch you, where I can’t make sure you understand that I’ll protect the light you have inside you until I’m burnt from it. You absolute angel, I-“

He shudders, almost afraid of his own earnest, and says your name like it’s a prayer.

“I love you. Even if you don’t return it, my heart is yours.”

Morgan’s grin is wide, and he shakes his head, almost in amazement. Your own face is flushed, as you hear sirens and medics, your voice crackly and rough from pain, but still, that smile he’s grown to associate with his heart fluttering graces your face.

“My heart is yours, Spencer. Glad you’re finally realizing how absolutely in love I am with you, you goose, even if it took all this.”

He laughs a little, almost deliriously, and smooths his trembling hand over your face.

“Guess the doughnuts weren’t enough, huh?”

You manage, and he shakes his head, quick to push back.

“They were. You’re always enough for me, no matter what you do.”

Could he sound any more smitten?

Procedure says he can’t go in the ambulance with you - there’s no need, you’re just getting stitches and some ice and he can visit you at the hospital, okay? But as he heads back to the - oh dear, still running, he really was in a hurry, wasn’t he? - car, Morgan glances sideways at him, signature smirk in place.

“Pretty boy, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Spencer stares down at his hands in his lap. They’re stained, and a grimace floods his face when he realizes it’s not dirt, but your blood, coating his fingertips. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he bites back a nastier retort than his friend deserves.

“I guess I did. I can’t believe it took-“

Morgan sighs, stopping Spencer’s inevitable incoming guilt filled rambles.

“Hush. You told her. That’s what matters.”

Glancing down at Spencer’s fidgeting hands in his lap, he presses on the gas.

“Let’s get there, so you can get that off you. I’m shocked you got all dirty, with your germ thing.”

Spencer shrugs, looking out the window.

“For her? I’d-I think I’d do anything. No matter what it stained.”

Soap finds his hands at the hospital, but he finds you soon after, unable to stop the gentle press of his lips to your forehead, or the soft murmurs that follow as he tries to remind himself that much more of your blood didn’t spill.

ink - the third stain

Emily has to physically hold you back in the court room, when they take him out, his eyes fixed on you, and the team, almost hopeless.

“Then your client is a flight risk.”

You’re quite literally fighting her, suddenly terrified in a whole new way for your boyfriend, tears staining your face.

“Bail is denied.”

She’s got both arms wrapped around you, her soft, ‘I know’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s barely heard over your own pleas for her to let you go.

“Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.”

You hear someone sobbing - angry, fear-filled wailing - and until Emily has you turned around, your face in her shoulder, comes the realization that it’s you.

“He’s-Emily, what are we going to do, he’s not going to be okay, I-I can’t—“

The days that follow are dark. Going to the BAU without Spencer, let alone waking up without him beside you, is enough to send you into a spiral. You try to remind yourself that he’s worse off, that whatever hell he’s experiencing is ten times worse than your quiet fear and loneliness. So, to try to combat the weight that squashes your heart, you write him letters. Daily letters.

Spencer -

We have a case in Florida. Emily says it’ll be quick, but the Florida ones never are. We’d solve it ten times faster with you, you know? Geographical profiles are much harder alone, that’s for sure. The plane ride is quieter without you, and no one’s saying anything - you’d be saying something if you were here. Maybe that’s why we’re quiet. ♡

Every day. You don’t relent. If you can’t mail them in whatever town you get stuck in for work, you mail them in one big envelope when you get back home.

Spencer -

That case was rough. I cried twice - once when I spent over two hours staring at the map at the precinct and couldn’t find anything new, and once when Rossi accidentally snapped at me. He said he was sorry, that he’s ‘on edge’ right now - but aren’t we all? Emily’s working really hard to try to get you home. I wish I could come see you. I hope you’re safe. I love you. ♡

When you learn that he didn’t put you on the list of people who can visit him in that concrete hell, you almost lose what’s left your nerve, breaking down in Emily’s office, shaking. You don’t know whether you’re furious, in despair, or numb to it all.

“Emily, why? Why doesn’t he want me to come see him? If it was me, I’d want to see him every day, I wouldn’t want him to leave!”

She sighs, her face tight. Twisting your hands in your lap, you search her face for answers. Nausea claws at your throat.

“Honestly, my guess is it’s just that. He knows that if you come, he won’t want you to leave. It’ll hurt too much.”

“But Tara, and you, and his mother, and-

Spencer -

I think I understand. Sort of. I feel like there’s this pressure in my chest, and I can’t ever fully breathe. Not since you’ve been away. The weight on my heart never goes away. Missing you more every hour. ♡

Despite the slew of handwritten letters that reach him, you only get one back, after you and the team search his apartment - you keep it in your purse pocket, folded safe, and read it whenever your throat feels tight and your eyes burn. His untidy scrawl is enough to make you feel like a part of him is actually inside this letter - like he’s reading it himself to you, interwoven in the fibers of the paper.

Angel -

I wanted you to know I’m in solitary now - I made sure of it. I know you want me safe, almost more than I do. I love you beyond what I can say, my beautiful girl.

Yours, Spencer.

One night, you’re curled up in Spencer’s apartment, writing him a letter, as is your nightly routine. The ink stains the side of your hand now - an ever-present reminder of the fact that your heart constantly feels ripped out of your body. After addressing the letter to him, your phone buzzes - Emily.

Oh God.

“Hey. We figured out that- oh, you don’t care about all that. He’s coming home.”

She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Paper and ink pen tumble to the floor as you shove your feet in shoes and snatch your jacket off the coat tree. Tension is coiled in your body the entire way there. Ink still stains the side of your hand, a permanent reminder that every time you needed to just tell him something - you had to pick up pen and paper.

Heart in your throat, you push open the door with shaking hand. There he stands, your Spencer. He’s still him, you think, although his face is tight, and sleep clearly hasn’t been something he’s seen much of.

Three months.

You walk in slowly, body trembling. One hand reaches up, runs through the curls that have grown so long.

“Your hair.”

You breathe out, voice barely audible. He nods, his face almost impassive. Tentative fingers trail down his cheek, make a path to hold his face. He nods, and then, you notice his eyes are misty.

“My angel.” He murmurs, almost in awe, and takes you in his arms with a fervor. Crushed against him, face buried in the cool fabric of his shirt, you bite back a sob, arms threaded around him.

“No. Cry, my darling girl, I’m— I’m tired of doing it alone.”

How could you refuse him? Just hearing his voice, let alone the relief you feel at being touched by him again, is enough to satisfy you for days, you think. For a bit, all that’s heard is uneven breaths, until he speaks, his voice rough and shaky.

“I need to see your face.”

He pulls back, face shining with tears, and you swallow back the lump that just won’t leave your throat.

Calloused hands - less soft than you remember - take yours, and then he frowns.

“Your hand.”

Your right hand is held up, inspected, like the blue on the inner side of it is red instead. You smile, laughing a little, still breathless.

“Ink, baby. Just ink. I was writing you a letter.”

He shakes his head, rubbing at the navy stain with his thumb, as if that will remove it.

“I would’ve kept writing. Never given up. You’d be sick of letters from me.”

“Never, sweet girl. There is no part of me who could ever find himself sick of you.”

After you’ve come home, he wastes no time in pressing less than tender kisses to your mouth and jawline and the column of your throat. It’s not until he’s reacquainted himself with your contours and the dip of your hipbones and the soft way you gasp out his name when he does that, that has you next to him, so he can see your face.

He needs to see your face.

Hand in his, still faintly stained from ink, he examines it, and then, softly, hesitantly, he meets your eyes.

“You know ink poisoning is actually rare? Pens we use are designed with non-toxic ink, to decrease any chances of fatal ingestion.”

You never mind his information sharing, but your eyebrows furrow tiredly at his timing.

“Spence, I’m not saying I don’t care, but we just— you just—”

“Please. Let me look at the woman I love and pretend for a few moments that my damn eidetic memory won’t play back the last three months of my life like some wretched tape.”

You let him, as he holds your cobalt-colored hand and your eyes droop, his soft voice telling you that rubbing alcohol will probably get that stain out. It almost feels normal.

Almost.

paint - the final stain

“Spence! Can you get paint water out of carpet with any amount of ease?”

You call your husband, turning back to your mildly sheepish five year old, whose water color adventure on the coffee table has quickly gone south.

In walks Spencer, not even noticing the overturned hard plastic cup or purpley-blue spill, eyes going straight to his daughter’s nearly finished picture.

“Beautiful, Penny. Looks incredible.”

He murmurs, bending to be eye level with a beaming Penelope, hand on her arm, before turning to you, mild tension and stress lining your face. His smile is gentle. It’ll wash out.

“Rubbling alcohol, angel.”

You nod, tension easing from your shoulders.

“We’ll go get it - we always clean our messes up, right lovely?”

He asks your daughter, lifting her with practiced care. She giggles, nodding, as they head from the room, letting you take a breath and set up the paints and picture in a new location - the kitchen table, with some newspaper tucked underneath because she’s five, and you of all people know spills happen.

Once she’s set up again - she really is so quiet when she’s engrossed in something - you find yourself curled up with Spencer on the couch, head on his shoulder, watching her paint and sing-song to herself.

“Think she’s lonely?”

Spencer asks, turning to you, his grin wide.

Troublemaker.

“Hmm. I think you just like me pregnant.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t want Penny to be sad, ever.”

Silence, then, for a bit.

“She’s so much like you.”

Spencer muses, his fingers drawing patterns on the side of your sweater. You smile, fondly.

“You say that because I’m clumsy. She was dancing around with that paintbrush, that cup of paint water stood no chance.”

“No, I say that because she shines like you. No matter what tries to dim her.”

That night, when you peek in your daughter’s door to see Spencer reading her A Little Princess, she’s propped up against him, hazel eyes barely open. Affection swells in your chest as his voice carries on, even though she’s clearly almost in dreamland. In you walk, pressing a kiss first to her forehead, then Spencer’s. He smiles gentle up at you - this is his favorite time of the day - and keeps reading.

“Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words, and everything in the world understands it.”

Once you’re back in the living room, you check on the earlier spill from today. All that’s left is a barely visible blue spot, no bigger than a quarter.

“No one will see it but you.”

Steadying, warm arms wrap around your ribs, and soft lips press against the side of your neck, washing away any insecurity about the state of your carpet.

“Besides, stains aren’t bad, sweet girl. They’re little reminders that things happened, good things, or bad things that brought us together. Memories, attached to splotches, attached to wounds, to paper, to skin. How convenient, to carry our most impactful moments like heaven-sent tattoos.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut

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mypoisonedvine · 1 year ago

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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly. “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did. You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something. And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it. The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.

“Poor girl,” he breathed. “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course. He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle. “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be. And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that. “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was. You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should. “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say. He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it. You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you. Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted. His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s. You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then. It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way. Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type. But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder. You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly. “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that? It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good. Not enough. You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted. His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little. “I can,” he admitted. “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife. You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut. You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you. This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening. But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly. You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him. It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question. Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing. “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive. “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze. “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair. He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you. Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you. He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin. “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was. It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things. “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him. As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled. “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply. It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap. Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin. “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was. “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go. “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this. “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you? You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did. You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response. “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was. “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart? Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this. He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now. “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long. We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly. “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans. “Good fucking girl,” he snarled. “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster. “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck. “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart. Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you. It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl. “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop. You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you. With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself. “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #dilf!cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy rpf

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hotchner-edu · 9 months ago

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Runner's Stamina (drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: You can't help but fawn over your boyfriend, and he happens to overhear a phone call you have with Penelope

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Warnings: allusions to smut (no actual smut though), implied age gap, r is down bad (so is aaron), this is just me thirsting over aaron—

You were staring rather intensely at Aaron as he peacefully read beside you. Biting your bottom lip a little, your eyes zone in on his hand as it slowly moves to turn the page, veins popping in the subtlest way with each movement.

"Yes, honey?" He suddenly drawls out, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he keeps his eyes on the text.

Blinking slowly, you pout a bit and shake your head. "Nothing... is the book interesting?"

"It's just as I remembered it to be, started a bit slow, but it's getting interesting now." He answers and finally turns to look at you, eyes gentle.

Aaron gently takes your hand and drops a sweet kiss to your palm, keeping his eyes locked on yours the entire time. Your hand twitches a little as you feel how his hand practically engulfs yours, the warmth of his affection crawling up your arm and blooming across your body.

You nearly short circuit, your face a mask of awe as you stare at your boyfriend in utter adoration. A few moments pass and you immediately jump to escape from his loving torture, butterflies gathering in your chest.

"I'll leave you to it then. I, uh, just remembered that I owe Penelope a phone call." You whisper and bashfully smile.

Before you're able to stand up from the couch, Aaron's warm hand drops down onto your thigh, squeezing it firmly as he hums softly. "Alright, sweetheart. I'll head up in a little bit.”

Growing positively dizzy from the feeling of his rough hand against your skin, you nearly tip over on your feet as you hurry up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Jack was over at Jessica's house for the weekend, so you weren't able to scurry to him for help in distracting yourself.

You practically leap onto the bed, hurriedly grabbing your phone and immediately finding Penelope's contact.

Laying on your stomach, you don't have to wait long as she picks up on the third ring.

"Hello my beautiful angel, how can I be of service to you today?" Penelope muses out playfully, the giddy lilt of her tone telling you that she was positively beaming on the other side of the call.

"Pen, my love." You sigh dramatically, "Help me."

"Not that I don't love you, honey, but isn't Hotch home today too? I thought you'd be jumping his bones by now." She says with a dulcet tone that feels almost jarring when paired with her teasing remark.

"That's exactly the problem, Pen. It's like he wants me to jump his bones again. I mean, his arms look more perfect than usual and he definitely knows it." You hiss out.

Penelope lets out an amused chuckle. "Careful honey, you're sounding like a cat in heat."

"It's hard not to be when he's my man." You sigh in a love-struck manner, imagining the way his hands felt on your waist, his strong grip massaging you gently as they slip under your shirt.

"Is Jack with Jessica today?" Penelope asks. "If not, I can take him for a few hours while you both spend some quality time together."

You smile widely and shake your head even though she isn't able to see you. "Thank you for the offer, Pen, but he's with Jess for the weekend."

"Then go get your man, girl! You have the entire weekend alone, what's stopping you?" She practically squeals out, speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, I know! But I mean... we did it for a few hours this morning already. I worry that I'm going to overwhelm him." You say half-jokingly. While you did occasionally dwell on the fact that he was getting older, you weren't upset or too affected by the prospect of his age affecting his stamina.

"He runs for fun, it'll be fine. Besides, he can still... right?" Penelope trails off, seemingly maintaining a bit of self-restraint since Aaron was still her boss after all.

You blush and squeak out in shock. "Oh my gosh. Yes, he can still get it up, Pen!" Looking over your shoulder, you cringe a bit as you realize the bedroom door was cracked open a bit. Hopefully you weren't being too loud.

"Then I see no problem, honey. What's he up to anyway?" She asks lightly. You hear some shuffling in the background and the sound of porcelain plates being stacked.

"Reading." You say softly, picking at the plush duvet under you. "I'm making him reread Crime and Punishment."

"Honey, go save him." Penelope sighs out, barely able to suppress her giggles.

"From the book?" Your voice is coated in amusement.

"Yes, and possibly dying of boredom! I'll call you later tonight, okay? Oh! The girls also wanted to go shopping sometime next week too!" Penelope says happily, her mischievous tone clearly conveying that she would want an update later.

"Okay, okay, I'll leave you be now. But you three are getting nothing out of me next week." You warn playfully.

"We'll see about that." Penelope giggles and gives you a dramatic kiss through the phone. "Talk soon, honey."

The moment you put down your phone, you hear the bedroom door being pushed open. From the look on Aaron's face, you knew that he had overheard at least some parts of your conversation with Penelope.

"Good talk, sweetheart?" He asks lowly, lips tugged into a small smirk as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Oh... yeah... done with reading?" You ask and smile a bit shyly, watching as he runs his hand along your leg.

Aaron hums softly and nods, his eyes darkening as he looks at you laying there. "Just remembered that I could be doing something a bit more exciting. Now what was it you were saying about my stamina?" He grins teasingly, his large hand sliding up to squeeze the flesh of your ass.

"You heard that?" You squeak out.

"Oh sweetheart, I heard much more than that." He chuckles deeply and gently flips you onto your back.

He crawls to hover over you, head dipping down to drop heated kisses along your neck and jaw. "Don't hold yourself back on my account, I love taking care of you." He mumbles against your skin, pulling back momentarily to look down at you with eyes full of love.

"It's not fair. You look too good all the time." You whisper almost petulantly, a playful glimmer shining in your eyes.

Aaron leans down to give you a firm kiss as he whispers against your lips. "So beautiful... you don't even know how much I want you all the time. How hard it is for me when I'm away on a case..."

He smirks a bit wider and his hand lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee. "Now, I hope you don't plan on getting out of this bed until Monday, baby."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds aaron #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds aaron imagine

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redcoralpot · 1 year ago

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Tougher Than Nails - Mike Schmidt X M!Reader

Warnings/Details: NSFW content, implied substance abuse, alcohol, cowboy!reader, hankie/cowboy hat code.

Summary: Mike goes to a bar downtown in hopes of getting his mind off of court, but instead finds something much healthier.

A/N: Everyone should thank my boyfriend for this idea; he's always the one that reminds me that I am technically a 'cowboy'. He saves a horse very often.

Word Count: 1.8K

Bars weren’t really Mike’s thing. Any alcohol he’s ever had tasted like crap, and becoming an alcoholic would just be another check on Aunt Jane’s list to prove to the court that he wasn’t suitable for custody. Hell, he swore her perfume was still clinging onto his nose hairs, and all he wanted to do was escape her. Escape reality, too. Mike remembered when his father used to do just that after Garret disappeared, drowning himself in the bitter liquid at night, his speech slurred. That’s why he was here, at a bar in downtown Afton, while Maxine stayed with Abby. He was desperate.

The building was crowded, delightful chatter and jazz music filling the air. Lights were strung along the wooden walls, narrowly dodging the black and white photos hanging by themselves. More customers squeezed in behind him; Mike frantically searched for any open spot in the room. Hallelujah– a single stool was left vacant near the serving counter, and Mike shuffled into it, shoulders tense. The bartender seemed to notice his presence, as she leaned towards the man, still shaking another person’s drink.

“You’re a new face,” she rattled, “may I see your license?”

Mike fumbled with his wallet, sliding the card for her to see, “Uh, sure.”

“Right, you’re all clear; would you like to open a tab?”

A man cut in before he could answer, and for the first time, Mike got a good look at the person sitting beside him, “Just add whatever he orders to mine, Molly.”

She shrugged, the key hanging from her left pocket jingling, “Easier for me.”

You chuckled, the brim of your hat covering your eyes. It was decorated with embroidery and leather, complimenting your purple button up shirt, though that was partially hidden by a black vest. Two hankies hung out of your back, left pocket, similar to Molly’s keychain. One was rust colored, but the other was a complimentary gray; Mike thought it was an interesting stylistic choice.

“I’ll just have a beer, thanks.”

As the bartender turned, scribbling in a notebook, you inquired, “So, what’s a fine boy like you doing ‘round these parts?”

Mike grabbed the foaming beer that was placed in front of him, “I live nearby.”

“That’s not the only reason, is it?”

He hesitated to answer, instead choosing to take a long sip of the beverage. It burned down his throat, the flavor making his lips curl and his head a little more dizzy. Somehow, it loosened his will, and he found his lips moving without his permission. Your energy was just hypnotizing; he felt himself being pulled in.

“Needed a break from stress,” Mike admitted, picking at the glass’ label.

You cocked your head to the side, your hat tipping upward, “Just ‘cause you’re in a hole, doesn’t mean you gotta keep digging. Alcohol isn’t the cure to what you’re feelin’.”

“What am I supposed to do? Not even my medicine works anymore.”

“I go here for stress relief too,” you assured, downing a shot, “but not necessarily for the drinks.”

Your hand hovered over the small of his back, looking at him for consent. When he didn’t move away, you settled your fingers there, feeling a shiver run through Mike’s body. Some of the previous tension released from his shoulders, and he almost leaned back in relief. Many of the customers in this bar were paired with the same sex, unlike most of the movies he’d seen that included the subject. So, he supposed it wouldn’t look too weird if he did.

You elaborated, “People can be cruel, can’t they, sweetheart? Comin’ to a place like this, where everyone’s like me in some way or another, is a damn good bonus.”

“Like you?”

“Y’know,” you gestured to your handkerchiefs, “queer and such.”

He paused, “Ah.”

“You didn’t know this was a boy bar?”

Mike replied, “I kinda just looked up the closest bar to my house.”

…

“Good to know.” Your hand fell away from his back.

He almost chased it. Mike liked the feeling, the weight of your fingers pressing into such an intimate spot. However, he wasn’t tipsy enough for that, and controlled himself. He watched as you spoke to Molly, the lady’s eyes flicking towards him and back, and you slipped her the money needed to cover the tab. You tipped your hat towards Mike, a respectful way to put distance between you, before disappearing into the suffocating crowd. Molly side eyed him, sweeping away his bottle, before leaving as well. Mike swallowed, pulling loose skin from his bottom lip with his teeth. It was now, or never– perhaps alcohol wasn’t the only way, after all. You were right.

Mike could still see the very top of your hat swerving above the crowd, and he trailed after it to the best of his ability. A random girl almost elbowed him in the face, and he was sure his shins would be bruised after tonight. Your shadow was reflecting in the glass door, growing fainter and fainter as you walked further away, your hips swaying. Mike pushed it open, the vision dissolving, and cold air stung his cheeks. The moon reflected off of car hoods, the only way he was able to see where he was running. His hand reached out and grabbed your arm, as you flinched.

Mike’s ears were red, probably from the alcohol, and you stared at him, “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” was the only answer you got before your collar was jerked forward.

Your lips crashed violently with his; your teeth clicking as he struggled to pull you closer. Mike was still fisting your shirt as you brought your hands to cup his jaw and the back of his neck, trying to gentle the kiss.

You mumbled against his mouth, “Better not be some experiment of yours, pretty boy.”

“Nope,” he whispered, the aftertaste of whiskey on his tongue.

His back hit the side of your car, and his hands moved from your collar to swinging his arms around your neck. Your knee found its way in between Mike’s thighs, pressing against his crotch, and his groan was swallowed by your lips. Mike whined when you trailed down, aiming instead for his neck. Dark marks and bites soon decorated the pale flesh, his blood dripping a contrasting splash of color.

Tugging on his earlobe, you challenged, “Gonna come back to my place?”

Mike doubted he ever agreed to something so quickly.

The drive was long, too long in his opinion. Though, it was most likely only fifteen minutes, at most. Mike didn’t even have to walk up the driveway to your cabin; his legs were locked around your hips as you carried him through the door and up the stairs. He ground his groin against you, searching for any possible friction. You tossed him onto your bed, unbuckling your belt, holding it taut. The man in front of you wiggled back and spread his legs to make room for you. You snickered at how willing Mike was, considering his hesitation when you first met.

You regularly kept lube on the bedside table, just to be prepared for when you brought men home from the bar. However, this one was different in a way you had trouble putting into words, other than positive. His thighs shook as you massaged the liquid into his hole, a hand covering his mouth to prevent you from hearing his noises. Ah, now that wouldn’t do, would it?

In response, you tugged his hand off of his mouth, “Lemme hear you.”

Such pretty sounds from a pretty mouth, it was truly a shame. When Mike immediately went back to covering them up, you slid your fingers out of him, instead reaching for your abandoned belt. His eyes trailed after your hands as they bound his wrists together in front of him, almost akin to handcuffs. Mike couldn’t see much of your expression after your head dipped down, only the shit-eating grin playing on your lips. Of course, that was before you took your hat off by the crown and placed it firmly on his head, though it was a tad too big for him.

“Why don’t you keep that safe for me, sweetheart?”

For a second, Mike was confused. Keep it safe? Just what were you planning on doing? He felt a grip on his waist, right before his world spun around him, and the positions were practically reversed. The guard was now sitting on top of you, or more so your crotch, his thighs caging in your hips. Mike’s hair was disheveled and the light on the ceiling created a sort of halo around him, and fuck, did you think he was pretty. Only a few select people had ever gotten to wear your hat, and you could confidently say that he was the most beautiful in it.

You unbuttoned your jeans, letting your cock slip through the opening, “You ready?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

You had a grip on his waist again, slowly guiding him down. You didn’t thrust, didn’t force him to go fast, and allowed him his proper time to adjust, “How’s that feelin’?”

“G-good,” he shuddered, precum leaking from his tip, “think ‘m ready.”

“You haven’t seen the brunt of it yet, boy!” You grunt, thrusting the rest of you inside, brushing against Mike’s prostate.

The man on top of you moaned, and the sound was so uncharacteristically loud that even he seemed surprised by it. Mike leaned down, resting his tied fists on your chest in order to keep his balance. His sweat dampened your collarbones, his drool smearing on your neck, and the pathetic excuse of a guard tried leaving kisses over the areas he could reach. You soon found a rhythm to your thrusts; groans were punched out of your throat on their own.

Mike could feel heat rushing through his brain, bringing tears that stuck to his eyelashes, covering any thoughts or hesitance he may have had before. That wasn’t enough for it– it spread like wildfire down his body, down to where your fingers were leaving bruises, and down to his red, leaking dick. Something deep was brewing inside of him, nothing he’s felt since his hormonal teenage years. Hell, he didn’t even have time to process it when you kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear that he’s such a needy slut; it exploded.

When he finally came to, he could feel his thighs twitching and your heaving, sticky abs below him. His eyelids felt heavy, and all he wanted to do was stay there with you. You were rubbing circles into his back, attempting to pull out, but a grumble from Mike made you stop. In fact, you were saying things, but it sounded muffled and far away. He took great comfort in your voice, no matter what you were talking about. It was getting farther and farther away, yet still managed to follow him into his dreams. For the first time since the incident with Garret, he did not have a nightmare.

Taglist: @cannabrisano @kai_beanz @fandomz-brainrot @slimemakermas

#x male reader #male reader #lgbtq #male y/n #gay #cowboy reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #x dom male reader #dom male reader #bottom character

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mrs-meeks-martin · 3 months ago

Text

Happy Halloween P1

EthanLandry x Fem!Reader

warnings: inappropriate language, stalkerish behavior, implied crush, freakiness (no smut this part)

PART 2

reblogging appreciated 🙂‍↕️

Ethan Landry, the hot, mysterious boy in the back of your class. You’ve noticed him, having to do some group projects with him once or twice, but you’ve never really paid attention to him otherwise.

When it came to you, he was the complete opposite.

It was like he analyzed your every move. Whenever you were somewhere, like a small little coffee shop on campus, he never failed to be there, watching you. From the shadows, of course. Not like you noticed him. He was always precautious when it came to things like that. Ethan tried to convince himself he wasn’t a stalker, that he was just making sure you were okay. He was only following you everywhere because he cared for your wellbeing, right?

So when you were handing out fliers to a Halloween party that Chad had practically begged you to go to, he took one without hesitation. He doesn’t even go to parties. He just wanted to have contact with your soft hands, the touch sending a jolt through his body that he hid well enough for you not to notice.

“I thought you didn’t go to parties.” You raise a brow at him, puffing out your lips in a pout.

“I don’t.” He replies back, mentally slapping himself in the face. Why would he even say that?

“So then why’re you going? I thought you were smarter than this, nerd.” You poke fun at him playfully, poking his shoulder as you giggle.

She’s touching me- She’s touching me. Even a simple poke was enough to get his heart skipping beats.“Hey, I am NOT a nerd!” He tries to retort back, which ends up being futile. His cheeks flush a light shade of pink, threatening to get darker at the teasing.

“Uh huh… Says the one that did all of the work on our group projects.”

He almost chuckles at that. The only reason he did all of that work was for you. Whenever someone else was working with him, he always made sure that they did their share. But you…

“You better have a killer costume, dork.” You walk away before he can say, “I will…”

A killer costume. He chuckled in his head. She definitely meant a ‘great’ costume, but… Maybe I’ll save myself a couple of bucks and go as Ghostface.

As more people start to file in the party, you wonder where Ethan is. Not that you care, or do you? You really don’t know. You scoop yourself a cup of probably spiked punch and make it to the living area. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone in a Ghostface costume waltz in the party. It’s not the first time someone has done that, but it always seems to give you a strange feeling in your gut.

“Hey, y/n.” Ethan removes his mask and smiles, flashing his pearly whites. He looks you up and down, surveying your costume. You were going for a Harley Quinn look with the cute cropped 3 color-way tee and those short ass shorts paired with the iconic fishnets. Ethan tries his best not to ogle you, but at the end of the day, he’s an adult trapped in a horny teenagers body.

Thank goodness, you say in your head. “When I said a ‘killer costume’ I didn’t actually mean a real killer, dork.” You facepalm, and it makes his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“So you don’t like the costume?” Ethan frowns. I probably shouldn’t have skimped out and just bought some lame outfit from Party City-

Before he can finish his thought, you cut back in and say, “I think it’s pretty cool, It’s hella creepy, though.”

As you finish your sentence, Chad just so happens to see you in the teeming crowd of people and walk over to you.

“Hey, guess who made it!” Chad puts a hand on your shoulder, shaking it hard.

“Hey, Chad! Been a while.” You smile, turning around to hug him. The action makes Ethan clench his jaw. Even though he knew you and Chad were inseparable, (friends wise) that didn’t stop him from feeling a tinge of jealousy. However, that all melted away when his eyes drifted down to those shorts. The same shorts that gave him a wonderful view of your-

“Hello? Ethan?” You snap in his face, tilting your head a bit. “Earth to-”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He gives you a strained smile, trying to ignore the heat pooling in his groin. Great. Just great, he thinks, wanting to bang his head against the wall.

You take a drink of your punch as Chad looks at both of you and raises a brow. “Yeah, I sense some serious sexual tension here, so I’m just gonna-” That makes you spit your drink out, some of the liquid coming from your nose.

“I beg your utmost, finest pardon?” You look at Chad with wide eyes and then turn your head to look at Ethan, and you notice how red he is.

“Yeah… That’s my queue.” Chad begins to back away, giving a slow nod to you as he does those stupid hand motions.

Take me with you.. Ethan thinks, not being able to handle the embarrassment.

“Ignore him, He’s probably already drunk, spouting nonsense and whatnot.” You smile awkwardly, trying to avert the attention from what just happened.

“Yeah, yeah-” He nods quickly, trying to also avoid conversing about the topic.

“So uh…” Chad realllyyy wasn’t lying. The tension in the air was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. You broke the awkward silence, trying not to sound corny. “I’m bored as fuck. See, this is why I don’t go to parties anymore.”

“You should leave with me.” Ethan says in a low voice, mustering up all of his courage.

CLIFFHANGER

ps: first actual series! interaction is appreciated 😘

#ethan landry #small artist #ghostface #implied smut #stalker bf #stalker yandere #smut #jealousy #stab me #halloween #happy halloween #scream #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #scream imagine #scream movie #scream mask #scream series

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daysofyellowroses · 1 year ago

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steak

carmen berzatto x reader | 3.8k | tw: pregnancy, implied smut, general nonsense

“I need a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. A favor.”

You were already beginning to regret asking, watching Carmy swivel in his chair and ponder the request. Or he was staring into space, it wasn't clear.

“Alright,” He nodded after a moment. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. It would have been easier to ask him to murder someone than what you were about to.

“It turns out that I am responsible for making 30 cupcakes for this Saturday and I could use some guidance.”

“I see,” Carmy nodded, pointing the spoon in his hand at you. “and what else? Sandwiches, burgers, hot dogs, stop me when I get the right one.”

You let out a sigh.

“And..three trays of sandwiches. And mini quiches, egg rolls, a crudités platter and a cake.”

“Okay,” Carmy sat up a little, lightly tapping the spoon against his cheek. “Just..a couple of questions.”

You walked closer to the desk, leaning against it and giving Carmy a nod. “Fire away.”

“First, why are you responsible for all of that?”

“Because apparently I promised my best friend if she ever got pregnant I would plan the entire baby shower.”

“Uh-huh. Why?”

“Because I was very, very intoxicated at her bachelorette party.”

He smirked a little, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile.

“Noted. Second question,”

“Third,” You interjected, holding up three fingers. “Technically.”

“Third question, is there a theme to this party?”

“No, of course not,” You frowned, folding your arms. “Themes are for kid's birthday parties and epic novels.”

“Hm, I thought so.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It just doesn't seem very..you know,” Carmy set the spoon down in his lap before interlocking his hands. “cohesive, I guess.”

You rested your hand on the desk, lightly tapping your nails on the surface.

“I'm willing to ignore that remark if you help me.”

“Alright, fourth question..why do I have to help you?”

You thought about it for a moment, working out your best angle to get him on board.

“Well..because I love my best friend and I want to give her an amazing experience, it's basically free publicity for the new restaurant, and we're..you know,” You gestured between yourself and Carmy with a grin. “We're friends. We're close. We kissed that time.”

“Yeah, yeah we did,” Carmy nodded, looking down for a moment before looking up with a smile. “When we were like..six? I don't see what that has to do with me adding to my already hectic schedule.”

“I would just really appreciate your help, even just a little guidance,” You smiled, holding your hands up. “What is the point of having a world-class chef as a friend if he doesn't help you out occasionally..”

“I promise to think about it,” Carmy nodded, picking his spoon back up and pointing at you. “Can you cook anything more advanced than french toast?”

“Depends on your definition of advanced,” You shrugged, pushing off the desk. “I look forward to your decision, I know you'll make the right one.”

“Get out of here,” Carmy rolled his eyes with a small smile. “I'll text you.”

You were heading to the front door when you bumped into Richie, who was carrying a box he promptly dropped on the nearest plastic-covered surface when he saw you, wiping his hands.

“Hey. What brings you here?”

“Me?” You gestured to yourself as you walked closer to Richie. “I just..I thought it was time. To declare my undying love for you.”

“Hm,” Richie nodded, rubbing his jaw before stepping closer to you and touching your shoulder. “I gotta be honest, I thought you'd never do it. Vegas wedding?”

“Vegas wedding,” You nodded with a grin. “Bye fuck-face.”

“See you later darling.”

It was the following afternoon when you got a very simple text from Carmy, relief flooding you as you read it.

‘Fine. Address?’

Opening your front door and seeing Carmen Berzatto standing on the other side was something you hadn't experienced for a long time, but it was a welcome return.

“Come on in, everything is set up in the kitchen,” You smiled, holding the door open and frowning slightly as you saw a worn grocery store bag in Carmy's hand. “Did you bring stuff when I told you that you didn't need to?”

“Sure did,” Carmy nodded, gesturing to his shoes. “Off? On?”

“Whatever you're comfortable with,” You waved your hand, gesturing to the bag. “I got everything, you really didn't need to waste your money on..liquid potassium or whatever, the food is not going to be anything too complicated.”

Carmy raised a brow as he slipped off his shoes. “You do know I'm a chef, not a mad scientist, right?”

“Oh shut up,” You sighed as he laughed, leading him into the kitchen.

“The fuck is liquid potassium anyway?”

“Here we are,” You spun around to face Carmy, gesturing to your humble kitchen, the dining table covered in various ingredients, in no particular order. “I really appreciate your help, I know you're busy.”

“It's fine,” Carm nodded, walking over to the table and setting the bag on the floor before picking up things on the table and inspecting them. “I'm not uh..I'm not needed, today.”

“Well I need you,” You grinned, walking over to the table. “The plan is I prepare everything today, then tomorrow I just have to heat up, and serve.”

“Organized, I like it,” Carmy nodded, looking over to you. “Where exactly do I fit in all this?”

“You..are my assistant for the day. Executive assistant, really.”

You gestured to the bag on the floor. “Show me what you got.”

An hour later, your kitchen was a whole lot messier, but progress was going well. Carmy had the patience of a saint, calmly explaining how everything was done. You were surprised how quickly you were picking up what he taught you, usually you got halfway through a YouTube cooking tutorial and gave up, ordering takeout instead.

“Okay, what's next on the list?” You asked, sprinkling herbs onto the egg roll pastry before wiping your hands. “I still can't believe you made me write a fucking list.”

“You needed the list,” Carmy grinned, reaching for the slip of paper. “Trust me. Okay, once you've finished those we can..almost cross off all the savory, just crudités but that's pretty simple. I can show you how to make dips, if you want.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” You grinned, flicking a loose crumb of pastry at him. “the vegetables are in the..”

You looked up for a minute, trying to think.

“Bottom of the fridge,” Carmy supplied, gently touching your back as he passed you to get to the fridge. “got them.”

You rolled up the pastry under your hands, setting it aside with the other egg rolls that had been prepared.

“So how has it been, being back?” You asked, going to rinse your hands. “I feel like I never asked you properly.”

“It's..fine, yeah,” Carmy replied, his head in the fridge when you glanced over to him. “Hasn't changed, much, well..you know. Never thought I'd end up back here.”

“At least you got out,” You shrugged, drying your hands before moving back to the counter. “How was New York? Incredible?”

“Incredible,” Carmy repeated, coming back to join you and reaching for a bowl. “Hand me that cucumber, please?”

“I need to visit one day,” You sighed, reaching for the cucumber and handing it over. “It's like..it's just there, I can go anytime, but I don't..I will, though.”

“Mm,” Carmy nodded. “You can pour greek yogurt into a bowl if you want.”

“On it,” You smiled, going to get a bowl. “I feel like such a domestic goddess right now, I gotta say. I never really cook. Not like this.”

“Are you enjoying it?” Carmy asked, not looking up from cutting up the cucumber. “I know cutting up vegetables isn't exactly an adrenaline rush.”

“I am enjoying it,” You got a bowl and went to set it on the counter, standing by Carmy. “It's relaxing. I'm not thinking about anything except the next step. I don't have to worry about anything except what I add next.”

“Lemon,” Carmy gestured to the yellow fruit over on the table. “Worry over.”

You smiled as you spooned the yogurt into the bowl, glancing over to Carmy. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Is it..that you're actually a serial killer who kills your victims by liquid potassium poisoning?”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” You groaned, going to grab the lemons as Carmy laughed and shook his head.

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. What's this other secret?”

“No, I'm not telling you now,” You sighed, taking the lemons back to the counter. “If you're just gonna be an ass.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carm murmured softly, gently nudging you. “Please tell me.”

“It's a world exclusive secret,” You grinned, walking over to the table and picking up your bag from one of the chairs. “Only three people will now know..”

You reached into your bag, pulling out a clean white envelope.

“Time to see if we need to use the pink or blue food dye.”

“What do you mean?” Carmy looked over to you. “Like a..gender reveal? That's still a thing?”

“I know it's a little cheesy,” You shrugged, looking down at the envelope. “But my best friend is just really excited to have this baby, she wants to know everything she can. So she gave me this,” You held up the envelope. “And I get to whip up some frosting.”

“So, what's it gonna be?” Carmy asked as you walked back over.

“Let's see,” You opened the envelope slowly, feeling Carmy's eyes on you. “Ah..not what I expected.”

You handed the paper over to Carmy as you picked up a lemon. “There's gonna be a little kid running around that looks like her..crazy.”

“Nice, though,” Carmy shrugged, setting the paper aside. “You know, if you..if you're someone that wants that.”

“Mm,” You nodded, taking a knife to cut the lemon. “She has, for a long time. I was so excited for her when she told me. Then I went and agreed to do all this, because..”

“You were drunk?” Carmy supplied.

“Yes, that,” You laughed, shaking your head. “It's not going that bad though, right? Everything is under control.”

“True, but uh..” You looked up as you felt Carmy's hand on your arm, looking down and finding yourself staring at his tattoos.

“You might want to cut the lemons, not your fingers.”

“What? Shit,” You frowned as you looked back to your hands, a trickle of blood appearing. “Spoke too soon.”

“It's okay,” Carmy led you to the sink. “just wash it off, have you got band-aids?”

“Uh..yeah, I think so,” You nodded, running the water. “in the bathroom cabinet.”

“Okay, wait here.”

A few minutes later you were leaning against the counter watching Carmy apply a band-aid to your finger with the precision of a surgeon.

“I can't remember the last time someone put a band-aid on me,” You murmured softly. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” Carm looked up, his hand still holding yours. “I'm an expert at it.”

“So I see,” You smiled, inspecting your finger. “Excellent work. I'll be sure and recommend you.”

“I might need the extra work,” He sighed. “We're getting close to the deadline and it just feels like we're not progressing.”

“Hey,” You gently squeezed his hand. “Stressing out won't change anything except to make everything harder. Just keep going, do what you need to do, and then on the tiny, tiny, chance it doesn't work out you have a career lined up as a professional band-aider. You can patch up my victims.”

Carmy was quiet for a moment before he laughed, really laughed, and you felt a weight slip off your shoulders.

After a moment a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your eyes held on each other.

“I‐”

“I should actually be going,” Carmy spoke before you could finish. “I just remembered I need to call this guy about the..”

“Okay,” You nodded, clearing your throat. “I can..I can handle the rest. Don't let me keep you if you're in a rush.”

You could see the guilt in Carm’s eyes, choosing to look away.

“I'm sorry to leave you in the middle of all this.”

“Don't be sorry,” You shrugged, looking down to your bandaged finger. “It's my responsibility, I got it. Thank you for your help.”

Carmen gave you a nod and you mustered up a smile in return, watching him leave.

A couple of hours later, the sun had set and your kitchen lights were bright as you flicked some cupcake batter off your fingers. When you heard a knock at the door you looked up, pausing for a minute before grabbing a cloth to wipe your hands.

“Coming, hang on.” You called, setting the cloth aside and heading to the door.

It wasn't a total surprise to see Carmen on the other side.

“Hey,” He said after a moment. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” You stood aside, holding the door open. “Come on in.”

You watched him as he took a deep breath, hand clutching the zip of his jacket.

“So, about earlier, I-”

“I know,” You smiled, holding up your hand. “It was a lot. It was fun, and..domestic, and kind of intense, and that's a lot. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Carmy breathed, nodding sofly. “But..I'd still like to help you out, if you'll let me.”

“Then get your shoes off and get in the kitchen,” You smiled. “I'm just starting the cupcakes. Assistance is definitely needed.”

Half an hour and a lot of batter later, the cupcakes were in the oven, and the daunting prospect of the cake stood in front of you.

“Do I really need to make a cake and cupcake?” You mused, looking at the messy counter. “It feels excessive.”

“You're making the cake,” Carm nudged you gently. “Show me what you've learned.”

“Prepare to be amazed,” You grinned. “For better or worse.”

You cleared some space on the counter and glanced over to Carmy for a moment with a raised brow. “Hold still, you got batter in your hair.”

You gently moved your hand to carefully remove the fleck of batter.

“Would I be out of line to suggest you might be overdue for a haircut?”

Carmy laughed softly and shook his head, ruffling his messy curls.

“It's on a list, somewhere. I'll get round to it eventually.”

“I could do it,” You suggested, looking back to the counter and taking a clean bowl. “I know my way around a pair of scissors.”

“Really?”

“Really really,” You nodded, reaching for the flour. “you help me with this cake, I'll make you look like a new man.”

“Deal.”

Once the cupcakes were out of the oven and the cake was in, you sent Carmy off to wash his hair in your shower, leaning against the counter when he was gone and taking a deep breath. You reached for the note that your best friend had given you, smiling as you read over it.

When Carm came back into the kitchen, you felt your heart race a little. He was dressed the same of course but his damp hair was slicked back, and he had a warm, clean scent that still had a musk to it that was really doing it for you.

“The cake will be a while, I checked,” You smiled. “Skewered it like a pro. Take a seat, let's get you fixed up.”

“Are you going to skewer me?” Carmy asked, raising a brow as he sat on the chair you'd moved up by the counter. “I'm a little intrigued.”

“You'll see,” You grinned, picking up the blue towel you'd grabbed when Carmy was in the shower. “Be on your best behavior just in case.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Alright,” You draped the towel around Carmy's shoulders, adjusting it a little before picking up the scissors and a comb. “Let's see what we can do. Head down, please.”

“About earlier,” Carmy began, and you felt a knot twist in your stomach. “I..I just want to apologize, I shouldn't have just left like that.”

“It's okay,” You murmured softly, gently combing his hair and holding the ends between your fingers. “Like I said, I get it.”

“No, it's..it's complicated,” Carmy sighed. “Because..I don't want you to think that I didn't enjoy being domestic and having fun with you, because I did, and I think you're great, I really..I really like you and it just freaked me the fuck out a little.”

“Like when we were six,” You smiled softly, gently snipping his hair. “And I kissed you. You freaked out and left me alone in that treehouse. I was devastated.”

“Hey I didn't expect it,” Carm shrugged. “You didn't give me a heads up.”

“I'm giving you one now,” You grinned, lightly tapping his head with the comb. “Head up, please.”

“Why did you do it?” Carm asked, soft curiosity in his voice.”I mean, why did you..why me?”

“You weren't like the other boys in our class,” You shrugged, gently sweeping the comb through Carmy's hair. “And you weren't like Richie or your brother. You were just..Carmy. I always thought about you. I liked that you were doing your own thing. Tilt your head sideways, please..thanks.”

He stayed quiet while you cut his hair so you kept talking.

“I don't think I really had a crush on you or anything back then, I just liked you. Then as we got older I started seeing you differently but I never acted on it because I didn't think you were interested. We never really hung out much, for all I knew you were a major dick. Then,you were gone and I tried to forget you..head down, please.”

“What do you think now?”

You thought about it for a moment, holding the comb in Carmy's hair.

“I think..you've actually got really great hair.”

“That so?”

“Oh yeah,” You nodded. “I mean usually it looks like a bird should be nesting in it so anything is an improvement.”

He laughed slightly and you felt your shoulders drop a little.

“I also think,” You murmured softly, slowly closing the scissors on the ends of his hair. “Those tattoos on your hands are really doing it for me.”

“Yeah?

“Big time.”

A silence hung over you as you continued the haircut, trying to keep your hands steady.

“Just because I freaked out doesn't mean that I don't..that I haven't been thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” You mused, lightly brushing some hair off the towel.

“Big time. But..” Carmy let out a sigh, clearing his throat. “I'm really not..an expert at the whole relationship thing. I'm not even a novice, I'm like..a nightmare. I can't do the flowers and dates and meeting the parents and all that like..I know I should want all that and maybe I do but..something just stops me and I can't..I can't do it.”

You slowly walked around to stand in front of Carmy, meeting his eyes as you glanced down.

“Head up, please.”

You focused your attention on his hair, feeling the nervous energy radiating from him.

“First of all, you know my parents. So that's not relevant. Second of all..I'm not saying that I want a relationship because I don't even know if I do. But..I wouldn't mind having someone I hang out with, watching movies and talking shit and eating takeout and figuring out if we want to be more but it's okay because we're still good how we are. And I could see you being that person.”

You took a step back, tilting your head slightly.

“All done.”

“Good,” Carmy nodded, standing up and stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and leaning in close til you felt like you couldn't breathe. “You can check the cake.”

You let out a frustrated sigh before laughing and moving your hands to grip the towel around Carmy's shoulders.

“You're definitely a major dick.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, feeling a rush shoot through you. When you pulled back you thought your heart was on fire.

“Wow, you've really improved,” You grinned. “I'm impressed.”

“You don't know the half of it.” Carmy grinned, pulling you back in for another kiss.

He wasn't lying, as you discovered when he put you up on the counter and feasted on you til you cried.

You had wasted no time, pulling him right down onto the kitchen floor to show what you'd learned too.

The next day, when you watched your best friend cut into the cake and scream with joy as layers of pink and blue sponge were revealed, you made a silent vow to volunteer your services more often.

#the bear #the bear fic #the bear 🐻#the bear fics #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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holdmytesseract · 11 months ago

Note

Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....

Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!

Nothing Less Than A Goddess

Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗

P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀

You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.

"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"

You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"

"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"

Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.

"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.

Well, that was true. He had a point.

You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.

"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...

"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"

You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"

You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.

Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."

Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"

"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"

Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."

You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.

Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"

Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"

You blushed.

"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"

You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.

"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x pregnant reader

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5-puthyyy · 4 months ago

Text

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 5

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

CHAPTER WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT IMPLIED? + VOYEURISM

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7 ~ Ch.8 ~ Ch.9 ~ Ch.10

“Blast me.”

Attempting to channel all your rage with a furious frown on your face, you blast your Magick towards Agatha but it falls short, barely reaching her. She scoffs at your pathetic attempt, crossing her arms over her chest as she diverts your power away.

“Is that all you have?” Agatha goads with a cackle. It’s clear what she’s trying to do but provoking you will not work. It never does. You have never been one for violence.

“I cannot,” you mutter in defeat, hesitantly dropping your trembling hands.

Agatha arches her brow. “Cannot, or will not?” she asks, her tone still laced with venom as she steps closer to you. But you step back, almost hiding in the darkness of the basement. This is not what you meant by teach me. No, you wanted to master the craft, wanting to really harness and create beautiful Magick. But blasting? Attacking? Especially somebody you clearly care about? Training or not, this is not something you are capable of doing.

“I cannot, Agatha,” it’s the first time your voice takes on a tone as such. There’s a finality to it, a sense of authority, but over yourself rather than over her. Agatha seems taken aback by it, stopping in her advances towards you. You’re unsure whether she deemed it an attack on her or not, but it’s clear she’s been affected by your words.

“I did not mean to push you, little–Uh, Y/N. I apologise.”

You cling to her words. She stopped herself before calling you her little dove. Why? Why would she do that, other than not wanting to call you that anymore? Does she no longer care for you? Is this her way of putting distance between you before you inevitably find yourself talking to an impossibly tall brick wall?

“Do you wish to end our training here?” Agatha hesitates before asking, seemingly already coming up with an idea of what your answer will be. She’s already stepping back, retreating, and somehow your panic and fear take over. Seeing her walk away after putting emotional distance too has you scared that this may be the start of you losing her. And you cannot have that. Just the idea of it is terrifying.

“Agatha, wait,” you call out shakily, forcing yourself to come forward. She pauses, turning back to face you with her arms wrapped around herself defensively. There’s a cautious yet optimistic look in her eyes, and for some reason you really don’t want to see that optimistic spark run out.

“Would you like to continue?” Agatha asks instead when you struggle to get your words out, your mouth gaping and closing like a fish.

Gathering the courage, you shake your head and finally speak up. “I do not like this form of, uh, training, as I do not wish to harm you,” Agatha’s instinctive reaction to your words is a playful roll of her eyes as if saying ‘You? Harming me?’ but after she soaks your words in, a softer, surprised look takes over.

“You do not wish to harm me?” she asks quietly, her fingers softly twisting in that anxious way they always do. You don’t allow yourself to think before reaching out and clasping her hands in your own. Agatha immediately sucks in a harsh breath at the sudden contact, but she leans closer, gripping tightly in fear of you letting go.

“I–I do care for you. And Rio. I swear to you, that is why I have been misbehaving as–”

“I hate when you say words like that,” Agatha interrupts, carrying on when you frown in confusion, “You do not let yourself feel, react, behave as a normal person. You must degrade yourself, punish yourself…I wish for you to stop.”

Your brows come together, not sure how to respond to such caring words like this. She’s clearly extremely observant – at least when it comes to your behaviours – for her to notice this, and not only notice it but dislike it because she–

“I only wish for you to feel happy, and safe,” Agatha carries on, stepping even closer, so close you can see the blue hues in her eyes swirling as she looks into yours side to side, “I wish to–I wish Rio and I make you feel that way, and I understand that my words were hurtful, and I had not meant them in the way you believe I did, but you should still allow yourself to be upset with me, Y/N, you cannot dismiss yourself and–”

“Agatha,” you call her name softly, holding onto her hands as you shoot her a small, humoured smile at her adorable rambling. She flushes slightly in embarrassment, though you’re sure if it were anyone else they would never see that red tinting her cheeks and live to tell the tale, “It may take me a while to feel safe anywhere, not just here. But I…” you pause as she tilts her head, eager to soak in your words, “But I forgive you, and I am willing to try.”

The air feels hot and charged between the two of you as Agatha takes a shaky breath in and out. She takes a step closer, your intertwined hands pressed between your bodies; you inhale sharply, breathing in the relieved breaths she’s just let out. Those beautiful blue eyes flicker down for a moment before heading back up, but they seem to remain indecisive as they go back again and again. Your heart leaps in your chest, feeling the flame of your hopeless desire flicker back, and you suddenly feel parched with Agatha’s lips being the only cure to your thirst.

Suddenly, Agatha gasps, her eyes glowing darker, pupils quickly blowing. Without realising it, your hands had started to cast Magick. You’re not sure what spell it is, but Agatha’s clearly affected by it, her lips parting as she pants, sweat already glistening against her neck, and her eyes remaining wild and free.

Training has been less hands-on since then. Agatha took a moment to understand what method suits you best, but once she figured it out it has been smooth-sailing study sessions in her office. A few times she had to take you down to the basement, teaching you some of the basic but most important protection spells, but she was always gentle, always patient, and always…

“Good girl,” she’d say, over and over again with a smile that keeps bordering on knowing and playful to not know what effect those words have on you. It’s always paired with low, dark eyes and a subtle lip bite that has been annoyingly consistent in haunting your dreams every night.

Paired with Rio’s lessons, you honestly don’t understand how you’re still alive. The brown-eyed teacher is extremely hands-on, literally. She’ll come up behind you and place a strong, firm hand on the dip of your hip as she guides you on how to correctly dig, how to plant for roots to remain strong and grow effortlessly, how to add the exact right amount of Magick to them to give them a perfect glow. Her touch is always hot, unexpected, and so firm and confident that by the end of your lessons you’re always panting, on the verge of making a split decision to run to the nearest, coldest lake and dive in.

It’s worse when it’s early, and when it’s late. You’ve learnt that sleepiness is paired with their lack of self-control. One morning, you walked out of your room with a stretch and a yawn, heading to the kitchen just to walk in on Agatha sat on the table with Rio between her legs, kissing her with a demanding aura, her teeth biting at Agatha’s lower lip with a furious desire. As a moan left Agatha’s throat, croaky and loud, a blush took over your face and you had to carefully run back to your room, laying in your bed wishing the image away.

The following evening, Rio pecked Agatha’s lips sweetly as she handed her a cup of tea. Ignoring your presence – or simply feeling comfortable enough in it – Agatha deepened the kiss by wrapping a strong hand to the back of Rio’s neck, pulling her down into her lap. They moved together slowly, routinely, Rio’s curves even more prominent in this position, and you could not keep your eyes away. Not until Rio broke the kiss with a loud groan and pant, immediately ducking her head to bite Agatha’s neck, and the blue-eyed beauty’s eyes excitedly caught your own over Rio’s shoulder. You forced your feet to move you back to your room with a muttered goodnight.

The absolute worst of it was yet to come…

It’s still dark when you’re woken up by a loud bang. You’re not sure what it is yet, still groggy as you force yourself to stretch and scratch at your eyes. Grabbing at the glass typically left on your dresser, you sit up and put it to your lips. Frustratedly, you see that it’s empty and sigh. Now you’ll have to get up. By the time you’ve snuck your way into the kitchen to fill up your glass, you hear the sound again.

It’s a subtle thumping, every two seconds or so, until it becomes louder, more consistent. The sound is followed by a groan of some sort, gutteral, whiney; you immediately think Agatha or Rio must be in danger and frown as you cautiously head towards the noise.

Twirls of orange Magick ball in your palms as you delicately move your fingers to control it. The floorboard creaks as you approach and you freeze, not wanting to alert the danger. But the sounds continue after that, the groaning and whining louder and louder as you head into the hallway. Agatha and Rio’s bedroom is at the end of it; the door is left slightly ajar.

The sounds sound clearer the closer you get, and halfway through you realise what it could possibly be. Red tints your cheeks as the groans begin to sound like moans, pants, or a swear word or two slipping out in between soft sighs of ‘Rio’, over and over again.

You should turn back. You should turn back and head to your room and wrap a blanket around your ears. That is the responsible thing to do, the right thing to do; invading their privacy is not an option.

But Agatha sounds so enticing, her Magick strong and powerfully calling to you. It strangely feels similar to when your hands were connected when your Magick pulled from her and glowed between the two of you. That fact alone has you pulling towards their room like a magnet, unable to stop yourself. With your hands trembling, lips pressed together tightly to prevent them from hearing your breathing, you reach the door and peek inside. Your eyes widen, suddenly the furthest thing from sleepy, at the sight of them.

The banging sound is the bed bumping against the wall, matching the rhythm of Rio’s thrusting. Rio, her naked, beautifully muscled back to you, her behind tight as she thrusts forward. Thrusting forward, into Agatha, pressing her firm hands to the skin of Agatha’s plump ass, pushing her forward to force her to arch her back down. Agatha’s groaning is loud, beautifully so, her whines incredibly needy, and Rio is cocky as ever with her humoured chuckles, her groans of appreciation, her praises.

You expected Rio’s fingers between them, but you then realise you saw both her hands on Agatha’s behind. With a frown, you peek in further, risking it with a twisted neck. When Rio pulls back for a moment to tease Agatha, you see it. There’s a wooden object between Rio’s legs, strapped to her; you’ve never see anything like it. It resembles a man’s, but it’s not. It’s attached to Rio, glistening with Agatha’s slick, and she’s wearing it like it’s a part of her, so confident, slapping it against Agatha’s wet lips and gasping as if she can feel them.

It’s only at Rio’s next words that you’re finally broken out of your narcotic haze.

“Fuck, I want her so bad, my love.”

Her. Her?

Agatha moans even louder at Rio’s declaration. “I do not think I have it in me to wait a moment longer, Rio, God, I need her,” Agatha whines deliciously and you force yourself to step away and back to your room just so you can gasp.

Who the hell were they talking about? And why do you so wish it were you?

masterlist + guidelines

HI! HI! WHY IS READER STUPID? for the plot obviously

#agatha all along #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agathario #agatha x rio #agathario smut #agatha harnkess smut #agatha harkness x rio vidal smut #agatha harkness x rio vidal

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gothic-thoughts · 1 year ago

Text

Slow on the Internet

(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)

(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers

CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread

Word Count: 1701

any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL

It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.

"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."

Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.

- Which one?

- Is it (Y/n)??

- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?

- The girl??

"Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."

- You should force her back fr 👀👀

- Bring her back, yall were cute

- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀

He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.

"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”

- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??

- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori

- but does she want to STAY ur friend??

It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.

"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.

- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH

- U LIKE EACH OTHER??

- ITADORI UR FUMBLING

"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"

- YES

- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭

- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?

"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."

- Bro cuz she likes u

- YUUJI WHAT

- She got it bad too. Both of u do

- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??

His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.

"No, no I didn't... did I?"

- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?

- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy

- She is fine asf lowkey

He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.

"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."

He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."

- is it because she's older than you?

- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh

- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age

- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?

"How old? She's 23, but still..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.

- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???

- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭

- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr

- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤

Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.

"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"

- Talk to her wat 😭😭

- UH TALK TO HER??

- Ask her out duh.

He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.

"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"

Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.

“Hey, Yuu.”

"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"

"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”

He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"

“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"

“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”

He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"

“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."

He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.

- Well???

- Did she seem to like u??

- What she say?

“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."

- YAAY

- LETSSGOOO

- THATS MY BOY

- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW

The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.

"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."

20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”

"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."

“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”

His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”

“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.

“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"

“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”

"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."

“I was only in one stream!”

"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."

“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”

He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."

“Mkay...?”

"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”

“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”

"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”

“But I thought you didn't like me.”

"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”

“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”

“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"

“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”

“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”

“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"

Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"

“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."

"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”

(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”

(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:

- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM

- GO BRO

- END STREAM

- STREAM TMR TF

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #black writers #jujutsu kaisen #black fem reader #yuuji x reader #jjk yuuji #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji fluff #itadori yuuji fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji

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vhstown · 1 year ago

Text

ain't no love; pt. 2

"ain't no love in the heart of town"

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SUMMARY: Miles Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 →

chapter summary: [MILES POV] Miles thinks there's something sinister going on at Visions. But first, he has to ask you out — to a job fair.

content/warnings: mentions of food/hunger, implied kidnapping, use of drugs (not by miles or reader) and there are some word meanings at the end!

word count: 4.7k

a/n: never thought id make it this far. 2/4 yo! thank you @qiupachups for proofreading 🙏 my g fr

“Take your headphones out.”

“~Ain’t no love… in the hear–”

Miles slipped his earbud out before putting his hand into his pocket again; it’d go back in once he left the counsellor’s office anyhow. First, he had to deal with the woman in front of him — Ms. Weber, the woman he’d been avoiding all week.

“Why didn’t you come to see me yesterday?” The woman peered at him through her red-framed glasses. Her disapproving gaze was one Miles was yet to get used to.

“Had to uh, see a teacher.” Her gaze became more disbelieving than disapproving. It was true, though, his calc teacher wasn’t the only faculty member he seemed to be annoying today.

“Right, and they didn’t tell you to take out your headphones?” The woman leaned over on her desk much like Mr. Wellston had, except it actually had the intended effect, like he was talking to his mother; Miles fumbled a bit with the earbud in his pocket. “We need to discuss your extracurriculars.”

“Do I need extracurriculars? I mean, I kinda already got some.”

“Such as?”

“An extra calc class. And Spanish catch-up. And English—”

“Something that isn’t to do with your academics, Miles — hence extra-curricular. College applications are right around the corner.”

“I’m doin’ fine right now,” he shrugged. Weber didn’t look very impressed.

“If you wanna go out of state, "fine" isn’t enough. You’re not the only kid applying.”

“Not like I said that.” He leaned back, making his chair creak loudly.

Talking to Ms. Weber felt like a chore. Sure, she had his best interest at heart, but she’d never know the half of it. His cooperativeness was running thin as the ache in his muscles worsened — if only Aaron didn’t make him get so serious all of a sudden. Miles couldn't listen to everyone, he guessed.

The woman leaned forward, tilting her head, maybe for emphasis. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Miles.”

Leaning back wasn’t helping with the soreness, or Ms. Weber. “Not if there was no cake to begin with.”

She let out a breath, a more civil version of the loud sigh building up in Miles’ lungs. “How about this? You try your hand at some volunteering.”

“Volunteering?” He was already sure that he wouldn’t bother. He did plenty volunteering already — if illegal vigilantism counted.

“There’s a careers fair for freshmen soon. It’d look good on your application if you helped to organise.”

“Aren’t teachers supposed to do that?”

“I’m right in front of you.” Her tone was drier than his.

“You’re just a counsellor though—” Miles’ lips pressed together, Ms. Weber’s eyes narrowing at him. He didn’t want the same fate that guy had calling his mom “just a nurse”, but it came out before he could stop himself.

“The week after winter break,” she continued. Being a counsellor was less stressful than a nurse, it seemed.

Winter break was after this week — that was when he’d finally stop training for a little while. The week after was the job fair, and…

“So it’s just me that’s doin’ it?”

The counsellor contemplated for a moment, her own lips pursing. “You could ask someone to do it with you. One of your friends, maybe.”

Like he had one of those.

“Huh? What’d you say? Someone’s waiting? You got friends?”

“Miles, c’mon.”

Maybe he did.

“Yeah, fine — I’ll do it,” he muttered. Weber’s expression relaxed, as much as it could with that gruff air still about her.

“Okay, good. Just bring your friend here after school.” Miles simply nodded — now with another thing to think about. “You can go back to lunch.”

He got out of the chair, his hand already on the door handle before Weber spoke again.

“Well done on coming in, by the way.” Miles turned back for a moment, mumbling something like a thanks. He tried not to feel weird about the odd sincerity of her words as he walked through the hallways.

“~Ain’t no love, and in the heart of the city…”

Miles had a lot to think about in general, but only about 20 minutes to think about what he was going to say to you. He also thought about what he was going to eat later — maybe his mom made something. He hoped his uncle didn’t finish the stew. At least his stomach didn’t grumble… Miles tried not to smile, even if nobody was watching.

Though he wanted to talk to you outside of class, he never really had any excuse. The only reason he’d talked to you at all was because that Rafa asshole decided bothering Mrs. Hernandéz wasn’t enough. Miles wasn’t stupid, but Rafael had drawn a massive red target on his own back. It was a miracle that you decided to say something, for Miles and Rafael.

A little height difference wouldn’t make his ankles any harder to break. He half-shook away the thought. No need to get expelled when he had to be here for long enough to confirm his suspicions.

“He went missing, and now he’s teaching calculus at Visions?”

“Yup.”

“That’s my high school.”

“…Jeff did us a service with these files, huh man?”

And so Miles had gone to Mr. Wellston’s classroom with you. It only left him with more questions.

Wellston almost seemed askance when you two walked in together — he didn’t even mention Miles’ earbud. The man was reluctant to let Miles take the extra class with you, for some reason, but Miles could play dumb when he needed to. Something about the whole arrangement was off to him — like it had set off a sixth sense Miles didn’t have.

Really and truly, you were just some kid from his class that happened to be caught up in all of this. If he had a reason, he’d tell you to not go to that stupid class in the first place. He was probably a better tutor anyway — Wellston didn’t seem like the teacher type anyway.

But he was just some kid from your class too — Miles Morales. Gonzalo Morales, though he doubted you knew, or cared. Probably the only person who knew his middle name was his mom; she was always talking about it, his name — to be proud. He had his mother’s last name for a reason, one he never knew about until Aaron told him: keeping him away from crime — his dad’s side. If only she knew what he was up to now.

If only his dad knew what he was up to now.

Miles Gonzalo Morales — whoever that was, was sweating a little at the moment. That was walking quickly, not because he had to figure out what to say in the next 10 seconds. Talking to you? No big deal. He’d done it before… once.

Miles had talked to you once. This past week, all he’d learnt about you was your first name and the fact that you sucked at using your calculator.

Hunched over a textbook with a crumpled up juice box in your hand, Miles spotted you sitting by yourself in the corner of the cafeteria. It’d be an easy conversation: he could bring up the textbook and talk to you alone. The pang of embarrassment that shot through him said otherwise. You looked like you did in Spanish, quiet, focused, a little stressed — like the sketch of you that was crumpled up in his blazer pocket. In the sketch, you were facing away. Right now, your eyes were on him. Mier— (Shi—)

“Can you move?” Miles hastily stepped away, realising he was blocking the line. He tried not to catch the girl’s annoyed stare, and the many others, holding back his grimace and heading for your table.

He sat opposite you; the seat was cold, and he wished he’d brought his jacket. What if it looked like he was shaking, or something? This was stupid. It wasn’t that cold. Just ask, dumbass.

“Hey uh, pana.” Your eyes were on his again, and he tried to smile. “You studyin’?”.

“Trying to.” Gaze trailing back to the textbook, you closed it with a sigh he could only imagine with his music playing in-between the cafeteria noise.

The cover read “AP CALCULUS BC: 1st Edition” — he knew there were at least ten revisions. Maybe you liked collecting old textbooks like he did old comics — that’d be stupid.

“Still don’t know how you got six.” He took out his earphone, before realising what you meant.

“Litres per hour,” he corrected, immediately feeling like punching himself for it. “Could explain it… if you want.” The cold plastic cafeteria bench dug into his palm as his grip on it tightened. Miles Morales — Brooklyn’s only vigilante, and now an AP Calc tutor

“Uh, sure.” You took out a pencil, which clattered far too loudly on the table. He watched you grit your teeth at the sound before giving him an expectant, somewhat unsure look. Miles took the pencil in his hand and started scribbling in the back page of the textbook, with you watching intently.

It was slightly warm, and wrote nicely — would probably draw nicely too. Not important. Just solve the damn thing.

“Why does this equal to the derivative, though?” you interrupted, pointing at the garble of letters and numbers. He had to hold back a sigh, like he wasn’t the one to offer you help. If there’s one thing he didn’t get from his mom, that was his patience — no wonder she was a nurse and he wasn’t a tutor.

“Cause if you take g of x as like, let’s say v or sumn’…” he murmured, brows knitting together as he scribbled out a couple more lines on the side. Rewriting the equation, he glanced at you occasionally, hoping you were getting it.

“Wait, wait, so…”

A flash of realisation came over your face before you abruptly took the pencil from his hand, making his jaw clench as your hand brushed his. You continued the line of working, explaining it to yourself while Miles gave quiet “yeah”s and nods.

“Then all of that should equal six.” The pencil dropped with a quiet thud, rolling onto the inside of the textbook. “Litres per hour,” you added quickly, giving him a meek smile.

“…Yeah. You got it.” Miles could only hold your gaze for a moment, until the eagerness in your eyes had dissipated, and the two of you were left staring at each other. The bend of his knees practically hooked around the seat as he reeled back, realising he’d been leaning over a little too close.

Miles cleared his throat, pushing the textbook back towards you. “You get it now?”

“Yeah.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up; maybe you were a little proud of yourself. All you needed was a little guidance — and he was able to make you understand. He smiled — mentally, of course. Miles Morales — best AP Calc tutor in Brookly—

“Did you need something?”

“Uh, yeah actually, uh…”

Uhhhhhh…

“Uh…?” you repeated.

Miles held his breath; maybe some survival instinct would force him to spit it out. How was he supposed to say this?

“You free? In a couple weeks?”

“…Huh?” Your eyes widened. The cafeteria seemed to go silent.

Definitely not like that.

“Uh, like, for a… volunteer thing,” he corrected, hastily. The way he grit his teeth made his voice sound funny. Nice going, Morales. “I’m doing it. Just thought I’d ask.”

“Oh, um…” Your eyes narrowed in thought, as Miles recovered from un-asking you out. “Maybe? What’s it for?”

“Some job fair — for freshmen.” Your expression turned uncertain. Miles bit the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might split it

“Um…” The way your eyes narrowed was making doubt pool in his stomach. “You know what? Yeah, sure.”

“Really?” Yes, you idiot. “I mean, uh cool.”

“Cool…”

The cleaners were starting to wipe away at the tables. No wonder it seemed so silent — most people had left. “So what do I have to do?” you

“You gotta go to the counsellor’s office after school. We’re gonna uh, help organise and stuff.” He swallowed dry. As much as he didn’t want to be the kid that was always in the counsellor’s office, it wasn’t like he could avoid it. You didn’t ever mention it, but it’s not like anyone did outright.

“Okay,” you nodded simply, letting out a sigh and throwing the ancient textbook into your bag. Miles stood up after you, flexing his sore, bench-marked hand.

“Are you sure you wanna go to that calc class?” you asked, making him look up.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice — but you didn’t know that. “If you go to that fair.”

You smiled again, probably at the situation — maybe at him.

“Deal. See you Friday.” You waved, and Miles let out a sigh as you walked away.

Being a vigilante was way easier than talking to people.

“~When you were mine, oh I was feeling so good…”

The rest of the day dragged on with the soft kick of bass and the hum of a guitar in his ear. The only thing Miles could think about was the fact that he had to meet you after school. The fact that you said yes surprised him. You were classmates, acquaintances at most — maybe you could actually live up to the “pana” thing.

“~Cause your love lit up, the whole neighbourhood…”

“Miles — question eight?” Miles lifted his head from the desk, staring at the question sheet for a moment.

“Uh… forty two thousand,” he guessed, eyes narrowing at Ms. Calleros in a mix of doubt and hope.

“Forty two thousand what?”

“Six… Litres per hour.”

“Lit— Joules,” he stuttered out.

“…Yeah. You got it.”

Damn it.

RIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! Miles was thinking about you too much, and thinking about AP Physics too little.

“Remember your homework due next week!” his teacher called out as everyone scrambled to pack up and leave.

Miles let himself sigh; it was one of many he wanted to let out today. He drew his hand away from the ear with his earbud in. At the same time, he locked eyes with his teacher. Mierda. (Shit.)

She gestured for him to come to her desk with a not-so entertained look on her face. Nothing new, he supposed.

“You know you can’t have your headphones in during class,” she started, glancing at his palm with the earbud in it.

It was faintly murmuring. Miles just awkwardly pressed the pause button.

“I know.”

“There seems to be a lot you know and don’t put into practice, Miles.” It was like every teacher was out to get him. Guess he wasn’t being as sneaky about the music as he thought.

“Sorry,” he offered, half-heartedly. Might as well get this over with.

“What were you listening to?” she asked, eyebrow lightly raised. “Apart from my lesson.”

“Uh… don’t know the name.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s been playing all class.” And since lunch — he hadn’t bothered to turn it off. He didn’t know it was that loud, though.

“I gotta to go to the counsellor’s office…” Miles said in a way that sounded more like a question. He pointed to the door like it would help.

“And I have to go to a meeting, but here I am.” She readjusted her glasses, looking at him curiously — maybe more knowingly.

“Is something wrong? You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

“Nah. Just tired today,” he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. There was an unconvincing beat of silence, before she unfolded her arms.

“…Well, I hope you feel more energetic soon.” Miles just nodded, making his way to the door.

Gracias a Dios… (Thank God.) She was leaving him alone.

“Oh, and good job on the quiz — one of the highest in this class.” Miles bit back the fleeting warmth in his cheeks, digging his hands further into his pockets.

“Thanks.”

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he wasn’t the Prowler all the time. Right know, he was just a kid: a kid who listened to his uncle’s favourite tracks and lived in a box with his mom in the city he called home — a city that was falling apart day by day.

“Miles!” That kid. That’s who he was — Miles Morales. And you were just you, jogging right behind him.

Stealing a glance of your expression — and hopefully nothing more — he kept ahead of you as the two of you walked to the counsellors office. Neither of you had anything to say, but Miles had so much to think about. You agreed to do the fair with him; maybe he shouldn’t have asked — he wasn’t here to make friends, after all. But you were here now, and he didn’t hesitate when he knocked on the door to the counsellors office.

“Come in!”

There was a screech of chairs as you two sat opposite the guidance counsellor, who was tapping away at her keyboard as usual. Miles’ eyes met yours for a brief second, and when you gave him a smile, he spent so long debating on whether or not to return it with his own that Ms. Weber had already placed a stack of freshly-printed papers on her desk.

“Firstly, you’re going to have to post these around school.” Miles looked at the obnoxiously modern and colourful posters, with “FRESHMAN CAREERS FAIR” in a dull font that was meant to look modern. He could probably make a better version himself, but he’d rather not spend any more time on the fair than he had to.

“I have a question,” you interrupted, straining to try and be polite. “Is this something I can put on my college application?”

“I’d assume so, since your friend is doing it for his,” Ms. Weber replied, glancing unassumingly at Miles through her red-framed glasses.

Like I wasn’t forced to. But you weren’t forced to. You chose to do this — for your… college application. Right.

“Okay, got it.” You nodded, letting Weber continue.

“Secondly, there’s a list of start-ups that will be here on the day. You should familiarise yourselves with them — you could find a useful connection.” Weber put a white piece of paper with some writing on top of the stack of posters.

“The ones that are highlighted are places we haven’t contacted yet.” There were only a few different businesses marked in yellow, one of which had “OSCORP” written next to it.

“Oscorp?” You seemed to notice too. Miles could only narrow his eyes.

“Their junior apprenticeship program starts soon” Weber explained, looking at Miles for a moment. “Maybe you should apply — especially you, Morales.”

Like Miles would ever work for Oscorp. They were the reason that his mom’s hospital was so underfunded. Unfortunately for him, he was supposed to pay them a visit anyway, regardless of how much he wanted to get into that tech school out of state.

“The fair’s going to be the Tuesday after winter break. Don’t forget.” She was looking more at Miles than you.

“Got it… Thank you, Ms…?” you trailed off, giving her a hopeful look.

She tapped sharply at the nameplate propped up on her desk. “Weber.”

“Ms. Weber,” you mirrored, nodding again and offering an awkward smile. “Thank you — we’ll try our best.

The two of you stepped out of the office, glancing at each other for a moment too long as you made it a couple of metres from the door.

“So uh…” you started. “Could I get your number?” …Huh?!

“Uh, I mean, like, so we can stay in contact,” you backtracked, trying not to grimace. “I mean, in case we need to talk over winter break.” He almost mirrored your grimace before nodding.

“Yeah, here.” Miles handed you his phone, careful to avoid brushing your hand this time before taking yours. He typed in his number, and then “Miles M.”

When he got his phone back, all you’d put in was your number. Without thinking, he typed in four letters: Pana. He slipped his phone in his pocket before he could question himself.

An extra class on Friday — with his pana. Miles could only rub his temples at the thought.

This whole school thing had gone farther than he’d hoped.

“As you exit, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the—”

Miles held back a grunt as people shoved past to leave the train carriage, eyes searching for you as he was practically being bounced around. If it wasn’t for Mr. Wellston’s useless rambling, he wouldn’t be going home on a Friday during rush hour, let alone on the last day before winter break.

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.”

The top of your backpack peeked out and just as quickly disappeared as someone in office wear, and an enormous jacket, ploughed through right before the doors closed; he could hear your stumble.

“Cabrón… (Asshole…)” Miles muttered under his breath.

Truthfully, he’d passed his stop ages ago, but he wasn’t about to let you go home alone this late. He hadn’t even been this far down the line before, but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. Every night since you two went to the counsellor’s office, he’d been up, slinking through Brooklyn in his Prowler suit. People like you wouldn’t know, of course, but both Miles and his Uncle were picking up on things. With those dusty old police reports, the slew of missing people didn’t seem like much of a coincidence — and Miles didn’t think this “class” was one either.

In fact, Wellston himself didn’t seem like someone who was right to teach AP Calc. He certainly didn’t seem like the teacher type, and apart from that first class Miles had attended, all he really gave at this point were packs to do. And in that extra class of his, it was the exact same thing — except for that fact that he seemed to do everything to keep the two of you there.

“Are you sure you get it?” — “How did you get that number?” — “Where’s your calculator, Morales?”. Miles got you two out of there as fast as possible. At one point, he’d even written answers on your worksheet while Wellston wasn’t paying attention.

It was a hunch at most, but he’d always take his dad’s advice in stride, no matter how often he used to say it.

“Trust your gut, Miles.”

He wasn’t being over-protective, he was being cautious—

“What’s your problem, man?” Miles’ core tensed — like he’d done when training. He looked over to see you, and a total stranger.

“You got a place to be, huh? Can’t look where you’re goin’?”

Miles squeezed through a blockade of people to see you just standing there, unable to reply as a man blew up at you for seemingly no reason. The man’s words were getting progressively worse, his voice louder and his face so close to yours it made Miles cringe. The man’s eyes seemed to bulge out, but he wasn’t looking at you — or anything, really. He was clearly on drugs.

Miles was meant to get groceries for his mom. He kissed his teeth at the memory. Damn Wellston — and this guy.

The carriage was pretty much empty, being at the last few stops. Of course nobody cared when it came to stuff like this. Miles watched the veins in the man’s neck tighten, and his teeth were gritted together so hard it hurt to look at. He stopped his fist from clenching — he’d rather not start a fight with a junkie.

“Oy.” He put his hand on your shoulder, avoiding the man’s eyes. “Let’s get off here.”

“Wh—”

“Stand clear of the closing doors, please.” You two were out in about a second before the doors shut between you and the man, now violently knocking against the glass.

Holding onto your jacket, Miles kept you from falling as the train zipped past, the junkie long gone. He let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut. This train station was stupidly bright.

“What was that for?” you asked, brows knitting together. “We could’ve just, I dunno, walked to a different carriage.”

“You serious?”

“The next train’s in…” Both of your eyes went to the screen, and you frowned. “20 minutes, Miles.”

“Well you would’ve had exactly zero minutes if that guy tried something.”

“Okay, that’s too far. There were other people—”

“They wouldn’t have done shit.” His annoyance only grew, and he couldn’t hold back when you were looking at him like that. “Where do you live? Cause it’s not Brooklyn — nobody gives a damn here.”

People were starting to look at you. “Are you gonna let go of my arm or what?”

Miles’ hand fell from your shoulder. He bit the inside of his cheek, his own heartbeat only muffled by the sound of the train approaching on the other platform.

“Do you really live that far?”

“Yes?” You said, almost incredulously. “Like, two stations away from here.”

“Then we’re walking.”

Your head snapped back to look at him. “Seriously?”

“You want me to leave you here?”

It came out more like a threat than a question. The realisation made Miles’ eye twitch, but that only served to make him look more pissed.

“Go on,” you replied, your expression lacking any conviction.

“Cabezón…” he muttered to himself, before turning to walk to the exit.

“What was that?”

Miles kept walking, and the sound of your footsteps a couple seconds later made him breath a sigh of relief. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he was almost certain someone was watching you back there.

When you both got to the gates, he waited before pulling you through the emergency exit with him. Despite your protest, you followed him through it, blending into the crowd of people leaving and entering the station. Metro cards were a waste of money anyway.

It was a long, silent and somewhat unsettling walk. Miles had been through every corner of Brooklyn, and right here was about where he’d start looking behind his back, even as the Prowler. For some reason, you just had to live a light year away from school and in one of the worst neighbourhoods in this damned concrete jungle.

Despite the regret building in his stomach from how he’d talked to you, he was forcing more rational concerns into his head: the turns you were taking, the people they passed, how close he should stay to you. All of it was habitual at this point, but he couldn’t risk being caught off-guard, especially when every adult man you passed was starting to look a bit too much like Wellston. If you were closer, maybe he could’ve kept an arm around you, or something. Good thing his mom wasn’t here to beat his ass for thinking like an idiot.

Trying not to imagine his mom’s voice, Miles kept just a few inches behind you, right until you reached the front door.

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t read your expression — when was the last time he overthought something?

“Don’t worry about it.”

There was another beat of silence, interrupted only by the “beep!” of your electronic key fob at the door.

“See you.” Your voice echoed through the hall, followed by footsteps as the door slowly shut in front of him. “Be safe.”

Like he needed to be told that. “…You too.”

Miles lingered by the door, looking at you for a moment longer before he forced himself to turn away. Almost immediately after, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket — Uncle Aaron.

42nd street

Special delivery for your ma

A supply interception — his mom’s hospital was probably short by now. Miles squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the exhaustion before replying.

omw Delivered

His day hadn’t ended yet — not by a long shot. The Prowler was always on the clock.

pana = casual term used to refer to friends, means "buddy" or "pal" (used in puerto rico, venezuela etc)

cabezón = means "stubborn" or "big-headed"

from here on out it's just straight up drafting cause i wrote part 1 and 2 ages ago but i don't have anything for part 3 and 4 so !!!!

upload schedule if you didn't know is gonna be: this series one week and then a random one shot the next week (so hopefully ill post part 3 in around 2 weeks? im DROWNING in school work atm so don't hope too hard...) anyways have a good one ^^

reblogs appreciated as always <3 go back to the series masterlist here or go to my atsv masterlist here!

#miles g morales x reader #42!miles x reader #42!miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles x reader #miles g morales #miles g #42!miles #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #atsv x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #vhstown

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majesty0h · 4 months ago

Text

#TONGUETIED

gojo x fushiguro x f!reader

Part two of Sharing is Caring

*sum. Your boyfriend Toji is finally making your dreams of a 3way come true with a blast from his past. God, why are his eyes so blue??

*wc. 4.4k

*warnings. Fem! Reader, boyfriend Toji, bull! Gojo, blowjob, fingering, mild hatefuck, degradation, doublé penetration, praise, choking, unprotected, past lover, creampie, implied gay sex, biting, threeway.

[ Toji is green text and Gojo is blue ]

“Fuck, Old Man. She’s got a mouth like a porn star.”

“Yeah. Consider this a thank you for taking care of Megumi all these years.”

“Hah. I mean, I killed you. Shouldn’t I be thanking you?”

Toji and Gojo seem far more relaxed than you expected. Having a casual conversation and witty banter like they’re enjoying a coffee date. Wait, did Gojo say he killed Toji? What the hell?

“Mmph,” you’re snapped back to reality when the sorcerer’s cock pushes a little deeper, triggering your gag reflex. The saltiness of precum coats your tongue, tears prick at your eyes. Your hands grip into his slender hips, forearms braced on the sofa, and you will yourself to not choke. He’s a bit thinner than Toji, but has the length to make up for it.

Satoru’s still on the couch, lanky legs spread comically wide, head tipped back to the ceiling. One hand fists your hair, pulling your closer until your nose is pressed firmly into his well-trimmed pubes. The carpet matches the drapes, funnily enough.

Toji had long since ripped off your underwear as you knelt before Gojo, hiking up your dress just enough to reveal how much you were enjoying this. “Damn, ma. You ain’t been this wet for me in ages. I’m almost jealous,” he pouts as he reaches between your warm folds, ghosting two fingers across. You whimper and instinctively roll your hips back to increase the contact, but Gojo lets out an ‘aht, aht’ and his palm pushes deeper on your neck, ensuring you stay put.

“You really are a lady-killer, y’know that Gojo? Look at this,” Toji grins as he holds up his hand and wiggles the slippery digits. It’s so embarrassing and hot at the same time…how they talk about you like you’re not there, like you’re an object. You can hear the sounds of greedy slurping noises as Toji licks his fingers clean, which elicits a pout from Satoru.

“Wowwwww, you can’t even share? What kind of shitty friend are you? Lemme get some.”

There’s silence for a moment. You feel Toji stiffen behind you. Did Gojo overstep by asking to taste you? Was your fantasy dead in the water before it properly began? You’re still sucking cock like the good slut you are, eyes watery and looking up at Satoru, too nervous to peer back at your boyfriend in fear. This was bad. So fucking bad.

You grunt as the weight on your back increases exponentially; Toji is leaning over you, hands braced on either side of yours. “Then come get it, brat,” is all he utters before roughly smashing his lips against Satoru’s.

Your eyes grow comically large as you watch in disbelief, shock, and unbridled arousal as /your/ boyfriend kisses another man. It’s not that you assumed he was straight, well, you did. That conversation had never truly come up; it didn’t need to. So this…this was intense.

Satoru doesn’t even hesitate to meet Toji’s advances and he opens his mouth against Toji’s scarred lips. Their tongues dance, hungry. You stop sucking for a moment, too entranced by this entire display. Satoru’s cock drips pre-cum even harder as him and Toji explore each other’s oral cavities, and fuck, your boyfriend’s manhood is twitching against your thighs. You had to be dreaming.

“Ah,” Gojo whispers when they finally pull apart, a line of saliva connecting them, before dripping into your hair. “She does taste good.”

“You too,” Toji murmurs, growing more erect by the second. “I forgot. It’s been so long.”

You can’t take it anymore. With a loud pop you free your mouth and clear your throat, trying to gain their attention, to break up this…reunion? “Uh….what are you guys…talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” they reply in unison.

You want to press the issue. You need to know. When? Why? How long–

“You ready to take this to the bedroom, Princess?” Toji interrupts your inner monologue as he stands up, clearly done with the foreplay. You know that sound in his voice. He’s going to brutalize you, more so than usual. And the way Gojo chuckles in response, dark and heady, you know he will do the same. You shudder from an equal mix of lust and fear.

“...yeah. S-sure,” you reply softly as you slowly right yourself, knees sore from being pressed into the carpet for so long. You feel like a little lamb, thrown into a cage with two voracious lions. Ready to be devoured. After they’re done toying with you, that is.

Your footsteps echo softly down the hall, followed by heavier, eager thuds. You swallow hard as you push the bedroom door open, only to gasp and cover your mouth in surprise. Your normally messy living quarters (thanks Toji) were spotless. Fragrant candles lined almost every surface, and rose petals were scattered across the floor and silk sheets. In the two years you’ve been with Toji, he barely remembered your birthday, much less perform a romantic gesture like this.

“You see! I told you she’d like it,” Gojo cheesed before cupping your ass firmly, pushing you closer to the bed.

Toji rolled his eyes. “Yeah whatever. Take all the credit. Sorry I don’t need props to make a memorable lay.”

They continue to bicker mildly as you sit at the foot of the bed, watching them undress. You’d seen Toji’s naked form a million times, but this time felt different. His muscles seemed to ripple a little bit more, his cock stands prouder, thicker, his emerald eyes glazed over with a mysterious emotion you couldn’t name. You finally tear your gaze off his form and scan over Gojo’s bare form. His baggy black clothes were misleading. The stringbean was in fact jacked, with a chiseled six-pack, perfect V line. What really took your breath away was when he set his glasses onto the nightstand and winked at you; fuck they were so blue. It was almost ethereal, otherworldly. Enchanting. Your boyfriend notices you’re captivated and scoffs, easily pushing you back into the comforter. You scoot up closer to the headboard to make room for the two large men who are clambering in to join you. The bed creaks from the strain.

Toji and Satoru work in tandem to peel your dress off your nervous frame; the 6 Eyes whistles as he rubs your pink buds, causing you to moan slightly. “You’re beautiful,” he hums before capturing a nipple in his mouth and sucks, pinching the other between graceful fingers.

Toji nods in approval as your fingers tangle into snow white hair, at the little noises of pleasure. He shifts your legs apart, thumb pressing against your glistening nub, working it in time with your breathy gasps. “You just lay there and let us do the work. Just relax baby. Just relax,” Toji coaxes as he buries two fingers deep. Twisting them to find your sweet spot. It’s not long before you start panting his name. He leans up to bite and suck on your collarbone, his hair tickling your neck, his fingers becoming more aggressive, more persistent.

“Mm—fuck Daddy….it feels so good don’t stop please please—“ you beg hiccuping, your mind swimming, barely able to focus on his motions, because at the same time, Satoru has penetrated your cunt with his own two digits. Four fingers total. You feel so full. You’re sandwiched between the duo who assault your senses in perfect synchronicity, taking turns to shove their tongues down your throat and tell you what a dirty little whore you are. It’s delicious.

Two hard cocks nuzzle against your body, insistent, heads leaving slimy trails on your warm skin. You feel drunk. Wanting to prove how eager their slut is, your shaky hands reach for their manhoods and stroke. The sound of them cursing through gritted teeth was music to your ears, and they rut into your hands. Toji’s grunts are low and gruff, like sandpaper. But Satoru’s are softer, more delicate. Your mind wanders to how their earlier dynamic was. It seems clear that Toji was the one on top, and your already swelling clit twinges in delight, imaging Toji’s balls slapping against Satoru’s ass, those strong arms keeping him pinned, making sure he took every thrust, not stopping until his tight hole was dripping with seed.

“Ahn, fuck…oh my god…fuck…I’m gonna cum, I really want to cum please make me cum!” Your daydreaming is too much, and you stop stroking your lovers, wanting to solely focus on your impending orgasm.

“Cum for us then, Sweetheart.”

“God I can’t wait to feel how tight this pussy is on my cock.”

That’s all the encouragement you need, and soon your shrill cry fills the air as Satoru slips his fingers out and frantically play with your throbbing bud. You grip the sheets for dear life as you climax with Toji still punishing your G-Spot in a way that makes you taste static, that has your vision dotted with bright streaks of light. Even as you’re crying out and writhing they don’t stop; if anything it just spurs them on. You feel delirious. Your walls grip onto Toji’s fingers like a vice as a foreign sensation fills you. It’s intense, it’s hot, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

You fucking squirt.

It’s like a flood gushing out of your abused hole, slicking the sheets, your thighs, and your lovers. You’ve never even done that before! You want to die. This is so embarrassing.

The men don’t share your sentiments whatsoever. Satoru has a shit eating grin plastered over his face, and Toji is smirking like he hit the biggest jackpot of his life. You feel so empty when they withdraw their fingers and comment to each other about how this was the hottest thing they’ve ever experienced.

“Wow it’s just like in the porn. I’m literally Johnny Sins.”

“Pft. You fuckin’ wish.”

“Hey don’t be mad I’m just good at everything that I do. It kinda comes with the title. Did you really not think it applies here?”

“Not sayin’ that. I just remember how you laid there and yelled like Riley Reid when I bent you over that pool table in Kyushu.”

“Nuh-uh. You were begging me all night because you couldn’t get over that trick I did with my—“

“Guys,” you interrupt their fond recollections, feeling a bit left out and far too untouched. “I want it, please. Please give to me. Both of you I want…I wanna feel your both inside me at once. Please,” your voice wavers as you sit up slowly, grimacing at the large wet spot underneath you. The boys look down at you, and their cocks which had softened slightly during their heated debate spring back to attention.

“I thought you’d never ask, Princess.”

“Let’s get ready to rumble! Wait. Who gets which hole?”

Satoru’s question has you all pause. Nobody had considered that up until now. You look to your boyfriend for guidance and he responds that “it’s your rodeo, doll. We’re just ridin’ in it.”

That makes you feel a little bit better. Because deep down, you’d already made up your mind. You weren’t the biggest fan of anal, especially with anyone besides Toji. An actual sex god, he knew how to make it feel good, make the pleasure override the pain, never getting carried away past what you can handle. Satoru was nice, but you didn’t want him to lose control and have you limping at your 7am meeting tomorrow. But you had a feeling that would happen regardless.

“I want uh….Gojo in my pussy. And you in my ass, Daddy,” you proclaim, and you can practically feel the sorcerer’s ego puff up.

Thankfully, Toji doesn’t seem upset, too horny to focus on the schematics. As long as he was buried in any tight hole, he would chalk it up as a win. “Dope. You guys can start. I gotta go find the special lube. I think it’s in the bathroom?” He said as he slid off the bed and disappeared.

It only dawns on you that you’re alone with Satoru when he lays flat, one hand gripping his shaft, the other wiping his brow. Those magical blue eyes beam up at you, he looks like an angel with a 9 inch cock. “Hey. You okay with riding? I wanna see your tits bouncing. Are they natural? They’re perfect.”

Self conscious, you look down at your chest, not sure what was so special about it. “Uh, yeah. Natural. The left is bigger than the other honestly. And I’ve always been insecure about it. Like that not that much bigger,” you ramble, flustered. “But just enough that—“

“Hey,” he interrupts gently, squeezing your thigh. “Can you ride it for me, babes?”

The second time he says it, you nod obediently. Toji’s still throwing shit around in the closet. You’re on your own.

You straddle him, watching that pretty cock lay flush against his stomach, uncut and leaking. “Okay,” you whisper, rising up on your haunches, murmuring when the tips ghosts against your moist folds.

“There we go. Take your time,” he coaxed, hands rubbing small circles on your hips. “I’m way more fun to ride than the Old Man. He’s so lazy.”

You can’t help but blush, but figure this is the best time to get answers. “You…rode him?”

He nods, and a soft groan tumbles from those pink lips when you sink yourself down past the head teasingly. “Mmhm. Bunch of times. Awhile ago. Long time ago. Its complicated. But we had our fun.”

You want to press “how” it was complicated, and decide to further the interrogation by shifting deeper an inch, two at most. You both hiss at the pressure, the slick resistance. God he looks so cute underneath you. “Were…were your two dating?” you ask, before lust gets the better of you and you drop fully, bottoming out on Satoru and shivering at how your swollen clit rubs against his pelvis. “I didn’t even…fuck, I didn’t even know he liked guys.”

Satoru doesn’t take long to take control. Fingertips will leave bruises on your ass come tomorrow. You’re in his domain now. “Nah. Not dating. Just fun. He’s not the type to settle down. That’s why I was shocked to hear he has a wifey. But with pussy this good,” he snaps his hips upward, and you yelp his name, hands on his chest for support. “I can see why he’s playing househusband.”

“Hey!” Toji calls, sounding irritated. “Don’t make her cum without me, asshole!”

“I won’t,” Gojo replies , but he’s not making a great attempt at holding back. He sets a slow, but powerful rhythm, not once taking his eyes off you. “Fuck. Take this dick, baby. You’re so beautiful. Like it’s insane. Like a model,” he professes, obviously pussy-drunk. But the way he says it, it makes you feel so warm, so special.

“T-thank you, Satoru…ahn…~” you reply as you lean forward and rest your forearms next to his shoulders, rolling against his thrusts, your breath hot and whining against his neck. Your chests are sticky as they rub together, and he wraps his arm around your waist. You feel small, full. “Yes, yes please. Pleas fuck me, please fuck me, Sir. Please!” You cry as he bites your neck, claiming you as his cockslut.

This seems to fill him with increased vigor, and soon the room is filled with the sound of wet skin slapping on wet skin, the creaking headboard, and your strangled mewls. You’re so wrapped up in the moment you barely notice when Toji manifests behind you. It’s only when he spanks you, hard, that both you and Satoru pause, hearts thrumming rapidly.

“It was stuck under the radiator,” Fushiguro says of the lube as he slathers it on his cock,and carelessly slips a slimy finger into your puckered heat. Probing it, relaxing it, working it over. You wince and pout in response, but the way Toji growls back in response makes you fall silent.

Satoru seems to enjoy the tension as Toji withdraws his finger just as quickly as he entered it, opting to smear his tip between your cheeks, flickering against the hole. He usually takes far more time to prep you, but this is a special night and he didn’t have time to fuck around. “Don’t break her, dude. We’re just getting started,” he says to your defense, but there’s evil glinting in those ocean eyes. “What, you worried I’ll fuck her better?”

Shit.

“Toji, he’s just kidding. I don—fuck! Oh fuck Daddy what the hell!” You exclaim when your boyfriend shoves himself deep, and even with the numbing lube it’s too much to accommodate at once. You can feel their cocks rubbing against each other through that thin wall of skin. And it’s obvious they feel it too, how they say your name like a curse in unison. God it’s so much. Even when Toji would fuck your pussy when you had a fox butt plug in…it wasn’t even comparable. “Be, be careful! It’s so much—ohmygodohmygod. I don’t know if I can do this,“ you’re practically sobbing. Not from pain, but just the overwhelming sensation of it all. The stretching you feel…will you rip? Is that possible? You’re starting to panic and regret this whole thing, blubbering.

The boys do their best to soothe you. They don’t move. They just tell you how pretty you look when you’re stuffed, that you’re doing so good. Toji says you have to make him proud, and Gojo says you do make him proud.

After a few moments of reassurance, you calm down enough and steady your breathing. It does feel amazing once you get past the initial burn, replaced by twitching, glorious pleasure. “That’s my girl. That’s my good girl,” Toji praises, layering kisses against your cheek and neck.”You ready now? We can take it easy.”

The boys await further instructions, and in this moment, you feel like a goddess. These two muscular, dangerous men are going to worship you and defile you. Has there ever been a girl so lucky?

“I want…” you start, cautiously gyrating against Gojo before you press back against your boyfriend. “I want you to fuck me…like you used to fuck each other.”

And like that, with that simple utterance, you would be completely violated.

Toji is the first to fuck you into submission, wrapping your hair around his fist and yanking it roughly, exposing the quivering column of your throat. The things he says to you are downright filthy as his cock pulls almost fully out of your gaping ass, just to slam back in without remorse. The things you respond with are equally revolting.

Satoru catches on quick, pounding you with the same tempo and delirious intensity as Toji. You’re absolutely wanton now with your vocals, a cross between breathless gasps and guttural howls. Your holes tingle, and your body reacts surprisingly well to the onslaught. The rougher they are, the more soaked you become, the more your body relaxes to accommodate. The harder they go, the more you want.

“Fuck! Yes! Fuck me, daddies. Please don’t stop. This is so fucking good I wanna cum again. I wanna squirt again. Fuuuuck,” you manage to squeak out, feeling squished between the two large men, who are using you as a condom between their own unresolved sexual desires.

“Fuckin’, nngh—! Fucking do it then!” Gojo commands as he licks away your tears, before wrapping his hands around your neck and squeezing, hard.

Even Toji doesn’t choke you that hard.

It’s terrifying and exciting.

Your head spins, and you see fireworks. Partly from cumming unfathomably hard, but also from the last of oxygen to your brain. You would scream hysterically as you gush over his balls and get those snow white pubes drenched, if you could breathe.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Toji.

“Yo, take it easy, brat. If you hurt her I swear to god..” he barks, and Gojo loosens his vice just enough for you to blink and take a hungry gasp of air, still feeling like you’re you’re floating on a cloud, spinning on the world’s fastest carousel.

“Sorry, I ju—“

“Shut the fuck up, Satoru,” your boyfriend interrupts, and you watch as a hand shoots out in slow motion and chokes Gojo. For a moment you swear you can hear a tendon pop.

“Daddy, fuck—“

It’s not you saying it.

They still continue to use you as the perfect fleshlight, but in a weird way it’s like you’re an observer more than participator. It’s like porn, real life porn. Even better than that dumb VR.

“God that’s hot,” you exclaim, as you watch Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head, his body still snapping into yours like it’s in autopilot.

“Toji, stop…stop it—-“ he croaks out, but your boyfriend snickers, doubling the pressure he’s exerting on both of you. “You gotta stop.”

“Why?” You can practically feel Toji sneering behind you. “I thought you loved it like this, brat. Don’t switch up now.”

Gojo reaches up past you, palms pressed into Toji’s chest. He’s almost…whining. “I do. But if you don’t stop I can’t …I’m gonna—-“

His words falter as he almost loses consciousness, and for a moment you’re worried. If Toji wound up killing him, that would be really fucking hard to explain to the police. Fuck, what if your job found out?

“You’re gonna what, brat?”

“Toji,” you start, nuzzling Gojo’s cheek, your pleasure overridden by concern. You glance back at your feral boyfriend and shudder at the crazed, sex-intoxicating expression he’s wearing. “You’re going to—“ you freeze, as what Satoru was trying to tell you dawns on you, and you feel it. You FEEL it. Warm, thick ropes of cum fill your throbbing cunt, flooding up to your bruised cervix, gushing out with each of his slowing, weak thrusts. Oh God. He just came in your pussy? Yeah, you’re not in birth control and Toji creampies you frequently , but only on “safe” days. Is today a safe day? You’re too out of it to remember.

“Huh? What the…” Toji feels the milky white substance smear against his bouncing shaft. “Hey. Hey, wake up,” he demands as he stops choking Satoru and slaps his face gently. “Did you cum? Did you just cum in my fucking girl?”

You freeze and bite your lip, the vibe suddenly changed. Satoru finally snaps back to reality, grunting as his softening cock deposits the last few drops of seed into you, glancing at you before peering up at Toji sheepishly. “Uh. I’m sorry. I tried to tell you. My bad,” he swallows hard, and holds onto you like a naughty child seeks safety from their mother when they’ve upset the father.

You wince as Toji bears down past you, his lips meeting your jaw before pressing against Satoru’s softly, tenderly. “I forgot how pretty you are when you shoot your load.” He snakes his hand down between your bodies and rubs your slick and pulsating clit, circling it in time with his rapidly quickening thrusts. “Now princess, I need you to beg me to fill you up. You both had your fun. Now it’s Daddy’s turn.”

You don’t deny him. By the time Toji’s glistening hips snap one final time and he empties his balls inside your pounded-numb asshole, your voice is hoarse, having cum one final time from his fingers.

The room feels unbearably warm, the air thick with the mingling scents of skin and exhaustion. Your body is a trembling, overstated heap, sprawled between them in a tangle of limbs. Toji’s hand rests possessively on your hip, his palm rough but steady, while Gojo’s arm drapes lazily across your stomach, his fingertips brushing your ribs in a way that makes you shiver despite the heat.

No one speaks. The silence is filled only with heavy breathing and the occasional shaky curse. Your muscles ache, your skin buzzes, and your mind flits on the edge of unconsciousness. You feel the weight of their bodies pressed against yours, grounding you even as sleep pulls you under.

“She’s a mess,” Toji mutters somewhere above the fog of your thoughts, his voice a low sigh that vibrates through the bed.

“You’re not exactly clean yourself,” Gojo replies, his tone smug but tired.

There’s a pause, then Toji chuckles darkly. “After we clean her up…Shower?”

“With you?” Gojo sounds amused, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “Fine, but don’t get any ideas.”

You want to respond, maybe make a snide comment or laugh, but your body refuses to cooperate. Their voices fade as you slip fully into the darkness of sleep.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The second is that you’re alone. Panic hits you in a sudden rush, your brain scrambling to calculate how much time has passed. Work. You’re going to be late. You groan, dragging yourself upright, but your anxiety stutters when you spot the outfit laid neatly on the chair by the bed.

Next to it sits a cup of your favorite coffee, still warm, and a doughnut in its wrapper, and a Plan B. A folded note catches your eye. You pick it up, your lips curving into a sleepy smile as you read the words written in two distinct handwritings:

“Good luck with the merger! :D “

Shaking your head, you get dressed quickly, the earlier panic replaced by a soft warmth in your chest. When you step into the living room, you pause at the sight of them; they’re are sprawled together on the couch, limbs tangled, Toji holding Gojo the way he usually holds you.

You snort quietly, grabbing a blanket and draping it over them. Leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, Toji murmuring something incoherent in his sleep while Gojo shifts but doesn’t wake.

As you slip out the door, you realize you don’t know if Gojo will still be there when you get home, or if your life with Toji has changed forever. But something feels different. Different, and strangely right.

#jjk #toji fushiguro #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #tojigo #polyamory #fanfic #fem reader #roleplay #jjk rp #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut

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quixotical-lymbo · 8 months ago

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Hello! I read your Daredevil Darling fic for Macaque and loved it so much! I was wondering if you would do it for Wukong too to have his perspective on it

Pairing: Wukong x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: You've had it up to here with your boyfriend, now it's time to show him that you're not a wimp. Warnings/Tags: Slight angst, implied self-harm, well, not really implied when it's clear as day-, argument, self-deprecation, hurt/comfort. Word Count: 900+ words

"You're officially an idiot."

"How can you be so stupid?"

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

And many other things you began spewing out as you awaited for your second execution. Exaggerations aside, you were totally and utterly fucked when your boyfriend arrives.

How did you end up lying in the middle of your living room with both hands wrapped in gauze? Well, it all started when you and Wukong were in a little iffy mood with each other during date night at his place. From playing video games together, to board games, then finally playing truth or dare, which ended terribly. The two of you had a mean streak going on, neither of you were backing down from the most atrocious dares that were said.

"You better give up now, buttercup, I just can't lose."

"Says you! I dare you to lick the bottom of the couch while doing a handstand using your nails only!"

"Pfft, fine! Then you have to hold a hot pan that's been in the oven for ten seconds! Oh wait, I forgot, you can't."

"I can!"

"Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh huh!" "Nuh uh." "Yuh HUH-!"

You get the picture.

That one sentence stuck with you during your little fight with Wukong and set off the rest of the events that resulted in you almost frying your hands off.

"Look, peaches, it's not like I'm saying you can't do some pretty amazing ultra cool stuff, but you're not…well, me…soooo, please don't get yourself hurt cause you wanna act all high and mighty."

Maybe he was right. Now you feel pretty shitty after trying to prove him wrong days after that eventful night. If it wasn't for Mei barging into your apartment/home to drag you out to hangout, you wouldn't have been able to call for help, much less leave your apartment without damaging your hands even more. After tending to your burns with her help and begging her not to call an ambulance, you were left to await Wukong's arrival after Mei had decided to contact him instead.

The slam from your front door made you wince as you looked in the direction blocked by your sofa. Wukong's face popped around the furniture as he lowered his gaze onto your pitiful form; you were laid out on your rug with a pillow under your head and bandaged arms resting on your stomach. Mei slowly appeared out from behind your boyfriend tapping both of her index fingers together, she mumbled a farewell before booking it out of your place.

Wukong knelt beside you and placed a hand over your left one. His touch was gentle enough to not cause you to hiss in pain from the applied pressure as he poked around your injury.

"I-"

"I don't want to hear it."

You clamped your mouth shut and furrowed your brow as Wukong continued staring at your hands, his expression tight and void of any emotion that would suggest that he was upset. No, no, if anything he looked..disappointed?

You felt sick to your stomach. You would have greatly preferred him screaming obscenities at you than…whatever this was.

You couldn't hold your gaze on him anymore and opted to stare at the ceiling.

Wukong took a deep breath before exhaling slowly, he rubbed the side of his head as he carefully examined your hands.

"I don't know what possessed you into doing this or…or thinking this is alright, but I know damn well it better not be because of some stupid dare that I joked about days ago."

"How was I supposed to know you were joking," You grumbled under your breath.

Wukong stared at you.

You glared back.

Wukong narrowed his eyes and scoffed.

Your gaze wavered as the need to blink caused you to look away first.

"..." Wukong called out your name sternly. When you didn't turn to look at him, Wukong threw his hands up in defeat. "Why do…this? Out of everything you could've done-!"

"-and not take the chance to prove that I'm able to do things like you? Oh, I'm so sorry your majesty, please let me hear all about how fucking weak I am," Your nose crinkled as you fought back the sting in your eyes, but that didn't stop your voice from cracking.

"...are you…?" Wukong blinked back his shock as he shook his head and was so frustrated he could only stammer the rest of his words out. "Are you serious? I don't…no, I…why would I think you're weak-"

Wukong paused as he recalled what he had said that day, his eyes squeezed shut as he placed a hand on your bicep.

"Oh no, hun, no, no…I'm-"

You sniffed as you shrugged off his hand. Wukong's frown deepened as he reached for you again, but decided to keep his hands to himself.

"Why didn't you tell me? Or better yet, shut me up? Y'know I say dumb stuff sometimes, I-" Wukong bit his lip. Finding the words to articulate the feelings stirring in his heart was tough. "-I'm sorry, alright? I probably should've taken the taunts down a notch, but I'm not a mind reader, I couldn't have known it'd bother you this much when you haven't said anything to me…and…and you usually handle my teasing well! I…I'm sorry, I really am."

If his soft pleas didn't rope you in already, then him curling up beside you with his tail around your ankle did. Not to mention the onslaught of cheesy compliments he began whispering to you. Your cheeks were practically as hot as the pan you burned yourself with as Wukong added kisses with each sorry. You glanced at him and sighed after a few seconds of his overwhelming display of affection.

"Can you…help me till 'm better?"

"Of course," Wukong smiled as you carefully scooted closer to him. "Anything for you, peaches, just…please let me know if I'm being a jerk next time"

"Alright," You snorted as you placed your head against Wukong's chest. Wukong made sure he wasn't putting pressure on your hands as he carried you from the floor and walked you over to your bedroom.

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight!!

#lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader x macaque #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #slight angst

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mayonesamitch · 3 months ago

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Lets yap about Geode and why it's practically canon!

Contains spoilers

Okay I've been wanting to write this for a while but never had time to. However, winter break just started! I should be working on some unfinished school work but I don't care about school. So here it goes! This is basically why Geode (Cole x Geo) is canon/will be canon.

So first, I wanted to talk about how Cole never really had an actual love interest up until now. Sure, in season 3, there was the stupid love triangle thing with him, Jay, and Nya, but it was confirmed by the writers that Cole never really had feelings for Nya and was just confused by the attention she gave to him. I'd also like to assume that P.I.X.A.L's perfect match detector thing also threw him off. (I'm just gonna call her Pixal for the remainder of this, yes she'll be mentioned again)

He also never had much of a romantic relationship with Vania. Sure, they were close and had a great friendship together, but that's where it ends, just a friendship. They never really did anything more. And when it comes to Ninjago, they make the love interest very obvious.

The writers are also very aware that they haven't given Cole a love interest. They make subtle jokes about it, like in this scene. While the ninja are hanging out with their significant other (expect for Lloyd who had a love interest but uh... we saw what happened the Harumi...) except for Cole. He's instead looking at the cake that the woman is holding up. The writers of the show also have said that his love interest is cake as a joke, so they're aware that they haven't given him a love interest yet.

They also once posted this on the Lego.com website as a poll. This might be far fetched but to me it implies that there might be someone else in the future that will be Cole's lover. I know that it says girlfriend but it doesn't mean that the someone Cole is yet to meet can't be a guy. Maybe Cole is a bisexual too we can't take that completely off the table either.

Now, let's talk about the actual ship of Geo × Cole. Geo is not as social as the other and is more timid. He keeps more to himself. However, with Cole, he's an open book. He raised a whole family with him. They're also rather close. Cole has never been that close to anyone other than the other ninja, and even so, it still took him a while to get used to them. So him being so close to Geo as fast as he did is quite attached to Geo. And if that isn't gay then I don't know what it is.

Now this is the part where I talk about my personal favorite and probably one of the most canon ships ever in Ninjago, PixZane. (Pixal x Zane, told you I was gonna mention Pixal again 😉) It is very obvious that they love each other and is canon that they're dating. So, why did I mention them? Well, they never explicitly say, "We're dating." Instead they say that they're "compatible." Zane also says that she has "Half of my (his) heart" Which all of those are all just says of saying that they're in love and dating. Also they both have a strong attachment together. I mean, Zane is desperate for Pixal in Dragons Rising, and in the comic, Zane's Pixal Project, he's so desperate for her and is willing is sacrifice himself for her. In fact, Pixal only says, "I love you." In Crystalized. Took them only 8 years to finally hear something less nindroid-y but that just proves my point more. Yeah, with all of that plus the stuff I didn't mention, they're dating at least.

So why did I mention all of this? Well, a common rule for story writing is, "Show, don't tell." Very common in real life to, like phrases like, "Your actions speak more that your words." So they would apply that rule to a ship like Geode. I mean, the hints are very loud, yet sneaky in a way. Enough for me to apply the gay label but not enough for someone to say it's 100% without a doubt canon.

I'd also like to say that the writers of the show hype up and imply this ship more than a little. One of the writers of Ninjago posted this on his Instagram. The writer is also gay so that's some extra points. (I got it from here.) Also I just realized that the little effect thing around their hands make a heart, so I'll add that to the evidence list. Also this clip, Doc Wyatt seems to support the ship. So I'm pretty sure the writers are planning something big for them, maybe... a kiss? Who knows?

Now, in the end, it is a gay ship, so they have to be much more vivid about it or else the show could get banned in certain places around the world if they do make it canon. However, other cartoons do have canon LGBTQ+ representation that's more prominent. (Ex. The Loud House - Clyde's dads (Howard and Harold McBride) + Luna is a bisexual, Adventure Time - Princess Bubblegum and Marceline) Plus, there is some LGBTQ+ throughout the show which I talk about more here. (Shameless plugging XD) So it wouldn't be out of character for Ninjago add a gay ship in the series. Not only will it give them more open doors since it shows how they're willing to add queer relationships into the show, so they might add some more queer relationships. It would also make Cole the first canon LGBTQ+ ninja of the main 6.

Okay, well I think that's about all I have to say about the most gay characters in Ninjago. Also thank you for all the likes + reblogs on my queer Ninjago post, I like yapping about this show clearly, especially the queer part cause I'm part of the LGBTQ+ community so I might as well spread my pride. I literally love Geode so much please make it canon in my life.

Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys their winter break, gets lots of presents this year for Christmas, and stay up for New Years. Make sure to stay healthy and have lots of fun with family and friends.

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skellseerwriting · 4 months ago

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Bleeding Flowers Part 1

Soulmate!Hook x GN!Reader

Flower scars soulmate AU

Premise: When your skin gets marred, tattoo-like red flowers appear on your soulmate’s skin. As the wound heals, the adjacent flowers fade to an inky black color

Word Count: 2k

Content & Warnings: Fairly angsty ending, Hook bullies Bridget, Hook implies that Bridget needs to lose weight, Hook threatens reader, Hook doesn’t respect reader’s personal space, Hook (accidentally) hurts reader, The warning in this fic is basically just Hook lol

Summary: After telling Bridget and Ella why you wear gloves, you go to the courtyard and get confronted by Hook; who is more than willing to be cruel to you and your friends

“What are the gloves for?” Ella asked you. “You don’t have to answer.”

Looking up at your friend, you looked down at the things in question. Black gloves concealed both of your hands. You’d only known Ella a few days since school started, so it was nice -and a bit surprising- that she hadn’t asked about them until now.

“I uh…” you began, never sure how to answer that question. The truth was a sensitive thing to give, but lies were just as difficult.

“Do you have scars?” Bridget (your other friend) questioned.

“Don’t assume that.” Ella politely chastised. “The gloves could be for any reason, and it could be personal.”

“No, it’s okay.” You told her. Both her and Bridget had been polite enough to not bring it up when you met, so you were more comfortable now with satisfying their curiosity. “I don’t have scars. It’s the opposite, actually.”

“Your soulmate has scars.” Ella declared for you.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t understand why some people don’t like how they look though.” Bridget said lightly, not meaning any disrespect. “Flowers are beautiful. If mine were in more visible places I wouldn’t mind showing them off.”

Wincing, you held your tongue over your personal reasons.

“I just- I just don’t like mine, okay? They look different from most.”

Nodding, Bridget said: “Of course! I understand. I’m just used to the customs back home, where it’s normal to flaunt your flowers and scars; makes it easier to find your soulmate too.”

You did want to find your soulmate. However, you knew that you’d know without a doubt once you saw the person fated for you. It would be unmistakable.

Later that night, you headed to the restroom to clear your head a little.

Sighing, you pulled off your right-hand glove and splashed some water on your face. Then, you let your sights focus on your left hand; The reason for the gloves. With tentative fingers, you slowly pulled the black fabric off, and looked at the reason for your insecurity.

It was red.

Your whole left hand from fingertip to wrist was absolutely covered in blood red flower markings. It almost looked like you dipped your hand in a bucket of blood and had floral patterns etched into the matte color. Only the small ring around your wrist that connected to the rest of your skin had faded to a black color. It signified where the scarring was on your soulmate.

Red flowers mean wounds. Black flowers mean scars. Anything in between is during the healing process. There’s only two reasons for them to stay red, and they both stem from the same thing; the wound couldn’t heal.

If someone dies with an injury, then that injury will forever stay as a red mark on their soulmate. However, you’ve gotten new, tiny flowers that have turned black since the time your hand turned such a vibrant color, so your soulmate was very much alive.

That just left one thing.

Your soulmate lost their hand.

Losing a limb or piece of yourself is an injury that can never fully heal (minus the area that scars over), so the flowers on your soulmate will forever stay that bright scarlet color.

You had no such issue with this, of course. It’s just that you’ve learned the hard way that people react weirdly when they see your hand. So, you’ve just went with the easy route of covering it up.

You don’t have any defining scars on your person, so it’s up to you to recognize your soulmate when you see them for the first time.

You will find them; without a doubt.

Sitting at a picnic table in the courtyard with Bridget and Ella, all three of you ate lunch and chatted about your interests.

“Careful.” Ella warned you both. “Villainous Kids are here.”

Lo and behold, they were.

A dozen or so teenagers arrived into the space; dressed rather alternatively compared to the rest of the preppy kids at Merlin Academy.

You shifted your gaze away. They were trouble, all of them, so you found the safest option was to not engage; not even look at them. You didn’t even know most of their names (let alone attach those names to a face). The less you knew about them the better.

School started a few days ago, but that group has been making trouble since day one, and definitely makes sure that everybody knows to be afraid of them. Unfortunately for Bridget, they’ve already made a target out of her. You’ve managed to steer clear so far, however.

“That one’s the meanest?” Ella said in surprise at something Bridget was saying. “I think Uliana’s worse.”

“Yeah,” Bridget shrugged, smiling sweetly. “She is the loudest, but it’s mostly empty threats. She just gets irritated by positivity. Hook’s actually threatened to hurt me.”

“Excuse me?” Ella sounded offended at those last words. She started standing up “I’m going to-“

“No, no.” Bridget pulled her down. “Don’t, it’s fine. He’s not even looking at me right now. Don’t worry about it.”

Ella seemed peeved, but listened. Meanwhile, your curiosity that you tried to hold down kept growing.

“Which one’s Hook?” You asked, finally daring to look around at the large group that was hissing, snapping, and… barking? at a gaggle of students.

“The one with the red coat.” Ella grumbled, arms crossed.

“It’s actually maroon!” Bridget corrected cheerfully, but you barely heard her as you focused on the person that was apparently the meanest student in school.

He had lustrous brown hair that accompanied his “maroon” coat, a half-done button up, and black accents on the end of his sleeves. Your eyes trailed down from the sleeves.

You froze.

You strained your eyes harder to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on you.

Right there, where a left hand should be, was a shiny metal hook in its place.

No. Oh please no.

“…What’s wrong?” One of your friend’s voices broke through your sudden daze. You forcefully creaked your head back around to them.

Do you tell them?

“I think-“ you swallowed your suddenly dry throat, then lowered your volume. “I think he’s my soulmate.”

Both of their jaws dropped.

“No.” Bridget gasped.

“Hook?” Ella gaped.

You weakly nodded your head.

“But your hand…” Ella trailed off. You lowered your gaze.

“The flowers are red.” You whispered just above a breath. It was a lot to take in. You just wished it could be under better circumstances.

“Oh no.”

“What is it?” You looked up at Bridget, worry filling you at her tone.

“It’s Hook,” she looked pale with horror. “He’s walking over here.”

It took all your willpower to not turn around and look behind you.

“What do I do?” You desperately asked, fear spiking through you.

“Just stay still and let us talk to him.” Ella hissed under her breath.

A few moments later, you felt a presence loom behind you. You hoped the slight shaking of your hands weren’t too visible as you took another bite of your sandwich. Maybe you should just not move to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

“Well, well, well.” A suave voice in an English accent said tauntingly. It caused goosebumps to run down your neck. “Look what we have here; Princess and Patches.”

“What do you want Hook?” Ella spat, looking like she was ready to throw her sandwich at him. You knew without a doubt she would. Still, the fact that you were closer to him than you were to your friends made you feel like a cornered animal. Hook seemed to step closer; almost like he didn’t even notice you were there. Your muscles went rigid nonetheless.

“Just wanted to remind you both that you don’t get any peace during your lunch.” He said, accent doing numbers on your ears. After hearing some shoes shuffling, he seemed to begin to turn around. “Oh, and Cupcake.” Hook called out to Bridget with a laugh. “Might want to start skimming the frosting off those treats you’re eating.”

Bridget gasped in shock. Anger coursed through you.

“Don’t you dare speak to her that way.” You stood up, turning around to face him. Hook looked at you, amused, with a wide smirk on his face. Then, he walked forward and invaded your space; looking you up and down and taking you in like an animal to be hunted. You couldn’t keep the shiver from running through you.

Maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“And just who are you?” He inquired in a tone that seemed just a little too cheerful and a little too flirtatious, as if he never noticed you before.

“Nobody important.” You said a little more meekly, wishing you could just disappear already under his predatory gaze. What you said what technically a lie, however. At least depending on Hook’s point of view.

After taking in your appearance, his eye caught on your hand.

Oh no.

Without so much as a question, Hook grabbed your left wrist and yanked it up to eye level; looking at it with confusion and a type of curiosity filling his eyes. The action left you motionless despite your brain screaming at you to stop him. To pull away.

With a slowness that surprised you, he stuck the sharp end of his hook onto the tip of your gloved finger, before slowly pulling it off your hand. Then, your senses returned to you.

You slapped him; hard.

In an instant, his attitude switched up and he had that sharp piece of metal pointed against the curve of your cheek. His breath fanned your face, and it was hot with anger that seared like the blooming red handprint on his face.

“Wrong move.” He breathed, and you had never felt more threatened.

And then a blonde boy bumped into him.

Hook jerked forward.

His metal hook sliced along your cheek; growing a deep gash that stung like a hot knife.

Tears stung your eyes at the pain and you pushed him away. Bridget and Ella started saying things but you could neither hear them nor know who they were directed at, but they followed you nonetheless as you sprinted to the nurse’s office.

How did I end up with him as a soulmate? You anguished.

Lightly prodding a finger at his cheek, Hook hissed at the feeling. How dare you touch him like that.

He almost went running after you to torment you and get revenge, but Morgie grabbed him by the arm.

“Sorry for bumping into you man.”

Hook shrugged him off. “It’s no issue, but now I might get punished for an injury I didn’t even cause.” He said bitterly.

“Well you did have it right up against the skin…” Morgie said, moving both hands to Hook’s shoulders. “But if you-“

“Forget it.” Hook pulled away from his touch. Then, he dusted his coat down with his arm. “I don’t care if-“

“Uhh… you should see your face mate.” Morgie interrupted, now staring at his best friend. Hook glared at him fiercely.

“Yes I know I got slapped-“

“No not that.” Morgie shook his head quickly. “You uh… Uli do you have a mirror?” That last part was more of a squeak.

“And what do you need it for?” Uliana inquired, walking over with grace and dignity. She held a small makeup mirror poised in one manicured hand. Morgie didn’t even wait to answer her question before yanking it out of her grip. “Hey!”

He lunged it towards Hook and into his hand.

Giving him a weird look, Hook took it and raised it to the cheek that was just slapped. It was red, but one particular spot was-

He dropped the mirror.

It hit the ground with a crack.

The only way to describe his face was “mortified”.

“James, you okay?” Morgie asked wearily.

Hook finally focused on him; horror covering all of his features. If Morgie didn’t know better, he’d say it looked just like regret.

“I’ve just hurt my soulmate.”

Part 2

Taglist: For James Hook

@lesbpotmurdocklokistan @little-teacupss @mushroomdemon9 @leoisbabygirl

@brokenmilkcrates @eretsupremacy89 @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @elltheawkward

@sessa23

#my work #james hook x reader #james hook descendants #rise of red x reader #rise of red #If I make a part two it’ll probably have an angsty ending as well #Just so you know

66 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 6 months ago

Text

Nothing's Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You) (Regency Era Universe)

AN: This is my first time writing for an era like this so bare with me. I think I could have done better with the details but alas! Please enjoy :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Y/N, In universe Regency Era Lords Steddie X Lady Fem Y/N, SMUT and FLUFF, established friendship in alternate universe, Friends to Lovers

ANGST, we learn more about these experimentees, both men talk about their parents and Eddie elaborates a bit more on how Steve treated him in school. Y/N talks a bit more about her family and status. At the end, she talks a bit more about her sister who has died. In the alternative universe, Steve's father is a dick who feels like he isn't measuring up. Calls Eddie and Y/N names (bastard & whore). Reader has a run in with someone who physically hurts her (no elaborate; just the after math), guys defend her.

Word Count: 5335

Series here/ Donate to Me <3

“You were definitely one of the lucky ones.”, the doctor exhales as he continues to make notes without looking your way. “A lot of the participants were either injured or experienced something they’d rather forget.”

Remaining silent, you press your lips together as you nod just wanting this to be over so you can go have a cigarette (and check on Eddie).

“Was there anything that stood out? People you knew or anything like that?”

“Uh, no. A group kidnapped me and wanted to use me for leverage. I was rescued and then went back to a compound where I was talking with people till I woke up. I did have memories of my sister still dying. Obviously not in the same way.”

“Huh.”, the doctor hummed as he made notes.

“What?”

“It’s just interesting to have two participants experience a kidnapping. Another participant said he saved someone from being taken. Did you see Mr. Steve Harrington there?”

“No, I didn’t.”, you growled, annoyed at the man’s stupidity.

“Ok. It’s not that outlandish in an environment like that so I’m not too concerned about it.”

“If we had seen each other would it be? Something to be concerned about I mean.”

“Hmmm… not really. It would be interesting to dissect, metaphorically of course. To meet someone you’ve only met through this avenue in an alternate reality, I mean, that would be so fascinating.”

“What if you saw them in more than one?”

The doctor chuckles as he leans back in his seat.

“Theoretically that’s impossible but, if we’re speaking in theory, to meet the same someone in all different universes including this one? That sounds more metaphysical…like fate.”

“If that’s true…then it implies my sister was meant to die…no matter what universe we both lived in.”

Your voice comes out barely above a whisper causing the doctor to scan you over as he says your name but you promptly ignore him, rising to your feet as you power walk out of the room.

While walking down the hallway, you hear people still sniffling as they continue to regale people with stories of the other universe and how terrified they were about moving forward. You were so focused on the sounds of sobs; you didn’t even notice you passed by Steve who leaned out of his bedroom when he noticed you walk by and followed quietly behind you.

Eddie’s door was open but when you poked your head inside you realized he was asleep and still looked incredibly pained. As you tiptoed to his bedside, you noticed a little bruise starting to form where the nurse must have given him a shot to help calm him so he could rest. The other boy watches you with amusement as your sad eyes take in the man in front of you before you turn to the wall behind you, tapping your fingers gently against the light illuminated panel, and waiting for only a moment before a small door opens providing you with whatever it is you had purchased.

Sitting beside him, you carefully opened the tube you bought, squirting a bit of gel on your palm and rubbing it along his purple wound.

“What’s that?”, Steve murmurs as your eyes flick his way. “That you’re putting on him.”

“Healing gel for bruises.”, you respond while tossing him the bottle so he can see. “That brand is good at soothing swelling and aches. Definitely needed some of it a time or two.”

When you giggle, he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“May I ask why? Why you’re doing that for him? You just…you seem a bit guarded.”, he clarified when you flashed him an annoyed look.

“Yeah…Comes from years of bullshit. Plus…he was right. I’m terrified to let people in because something always happens. My sister was always there for me through the bad stuff but when I lost her… I just thought it was best to keep people at bay.”

“I can understand that.”, he nods, smirking when your quark your eyebrow his way. “Just because I’m an asshole doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”, Steve laughs. “I’m, um, sorry if I’ve come on to strong with my personality or been rude… It’s just my defense, you know?”

“I can understand that.”, you recite back making both your smiles grow. “I should go back to my room.”

Even as you say your words, your body doesn’t move. You know you should leave but something in your gut keeps tugging you towards the sleeping in man in front of you. He was in so much emotional pain and all you wanted to do was make it go away for him.

Sighing, you curl up behind Eddie’s back, pressing your face into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist.

***

When the long-haired boy woke up the following morning, he was completely confused when he felt a weight against his body until lifting the blanket and seeing a hand resting lazily against his stomach.

As carefully as he could, he rolled over coming face to face with your sleeping frame. He should have been confused or annoyed even that you just crawled into his bed but for reasons he couldn’t explain he felt like this was completely normal. Like he had spent the last few years waking up to you already.

Eddie wondered if maybe the experiment was leaving imprints him as the memories stayed. In the first universe, he hadn’t met you yet but he felt incredibly comfortable with you as that version of himself had already begun hoping for a long future with you by their side. In the second, he and Steve had been with you for a while and even now he could picture some of that Eddie’s memories as if they were his own.

Memories of meeting you and being skeptical as his friend insisted on bringing you back home. Taking you out to the field near the high school to practice shooting with you and allowing you to try his sniper rifle which he had conveyed to never let anyone before you do. The immediate fear he felt when you didn’t come back and the anger that followed when he found out someone took you.

As he reached out to caress your cheek, those protective feelings inside him increased and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.

The current reality came rushing back as his eyes glanced at the discounted jewelry on his fingers. He was lower class and would always be labeled that way. Whatever class you were didn’t matter because even he knew he was at the bottom of the society rung.

After crawling over you out of bed, he quietly covered you back up and headed to the bathroom to get ready for breakfast.

***

“He’s not eating with you?”, you ask as you take a seat in front of Steve and glance towards Eddie who was nibbling on his lunch by the wall.

“Uh, no, not today and I kind of understand why. If I saw what he did I would want to keep to myself to.”

“Is…are your parents…how they are in the other realities?”

The man pauses for a moment before his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Yeah, they are especially my father. I’ve been conditioned to take over his company since birth.”

“Conditioned?”

“Yup. Luckily my dad got a boy on his first try with my mom so…yay me.”, he sasses making you smirk as you exhale at the heaviness behind his words. “What about you? What are your parents like?”

“My parents and I haven’t spoken in a while. I, um, after my sister died…it was like the glue that held us together melted.”

“I’m assuming they’re assholes then?”

“What are we talking about so intensely?”, Eddie asks as he throws his body down next to Steve and continues to eat.

“Parents.”

“Oh that’s a fun topic.”

“Y/N was about to tell me more about hers.”

They both stare at you with wide, focused eyes as they wait for you to go on and on impulse you cross your arms as your wall begins to go up.

“Uh, yeah, you can say they are assholes. My father is a judge and my mom is a lawyer. Like you said, my great grandfather has the school named after him because he did a lot within congress. Careers of that degree kind of run in the family so I’m…noted as the failure…”

“You’re not a failure.”, Steve tries to comfort as your eyes become glassy before you hastily blink any tears away.

“I also don’t believe in my families class system so that’s a point against me.”

“Not really anything you can do about it though, right sweetheart?”, Eddie sighs. “The Harrington’s basically swear by it.”

The other man exhales as his head hangs.

“I was raised to believe that the higher class…were superior…”

“Yeah. To push low level people like me and my uncle aside. Part of the reason our school allowed people like me in was to add to the arrogance of the upper class so they could push us around.”

“I never hurt you, Eddie.”

“Physically, no.”

At that, Steve’s head jerks towards the boy beside him as anger and shame fills his heart.

“I’m sorry, Munson.”

As you watch their exchange, you can’t help but feel the pain as well from your seat across from them. This is why you and Kallie hated the class system. From the videos you saw, your great grandfather touted it as a way of motivation and peace.

“So the higher classes feel safer and the lower classes can aspire for greater.”

All it did was cause pain and no one did anything to counter or abolish it. It was so engrained in society that it was just common at this point but no one in the upper class did anything that made them better people. They continually belittled anyone beneath them and made sure to remind them there was no point in “aspiring for greatness” because this is where they belonged; under them.

Maybe Kallie could have made a difference…

“It’s ok—”

“It’s not. I’d…like to start over…maybe. If we can.” Steve’s hand hovers in the air as Eddie’s beautiful eyes take in the gesture with a glimmer of hope reflected behind them.

“Alright, Harrington.”, the man smirks as he smacks his palm into his and shakes it making you grin their way.

***

The following morning, Steve woke up in chair inside Eddie’s room with you both asleep in the long-haired boy’s bed and him sitting up against the wall while his palm rested on your bicep as your head slept comforting on his lap.

You three had spent the evening together getting little tidbits about each other and just getting to know the other more.

As you spoke, he couldn’t help but study you as your lips moved and your eyes focused as you listened to one of them speak. It was in his nature as an upper-class businessman’s son. He was taught from an early age to read body language and listen to inflections in words which he always found amusing because his father did none of that.

Bill Harrington did everything with selfish motivation and if someone questioned him or seemed to be disloyal, he attacked whether the person was indeed being nefarious or not.

In school growing up, Steve was the same but a bit more calculated. He punished people for being weak and quite frankly never even noticed they were always the lower-class student. He should have been more observant and empathetic. He just wanted to belong.

Lord knows his parents never made him feel wanted.

Steve couldn’t help but wonder how he would have treated you had you grown up together. He would like to think he would have been kind but the fact that he wasn’t sure broke his heart. Maybe you would have made him want to be a better man.

He felt that in the last universe he was in; that strong need to be better. The memories that still lingered had him wanting to continue that philosophy. He desperately wanted to make the world better for you and Eddie but the current version of himself was struggling.

He didn’t know how to begin and definitely didn’t want to cross a line.

Truth of the matter was…he was scared…

***

“What do you think? Three for three?”, Eddie jokes as you guys head towards the pods for you next session.

“I’m not sure. It does comfort me though…to know you both might be there. I aways get nervous before hand at what we might see.”

“Yeah. We understand the feeling.”, Steve sighs under his breath before giving you both a soft smile as you all separate to go to your areas.

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, here’s your shot…good. And I must insist that when you wake up, please remain in the vessel so we can do our jobs.”

“No promises.”

The nurse narrows her eyes at you as the door slowly slides closed.

“Dropping down in 3…2…1…”

#########################

“I will not tolerate this insolence anymore!”, the man screams on the other side of the door causing you and Edward’s eyes to lock from your places as you continue to listen in.

You had known Eddie and Steve since you all were children and it was killing you to hear the latter man’s father scream at him in such a manner.

Steven did everything he could to appease his parents including taking a woman he deemed boring to a dinner date in an environment he detested. He went with his dad on business ventures overseas to learn more about a company he did not want to inherit, sending you both long winded letters about how drab the whole affair was and how his father belittled him the entire ship ride back home.

All he wanted to do was spend time with his two best friends like he had always done.

“You need to get your act together, son. I won’t be here forever to keep you afloat. You can’t make a living running around with the bastard Munson and that whore Y/L/N.”

Your hand reached out to take the boys beside you as he flashed you a small smile and delicately kissed the back of it.

“Don’t call her that.”, Steven growled. “They are my friends.”

“Pfft. Then explain to me why she’s been seen with every Duke and Lord in the county?!”

“Her father wants her to settle down and marry—”

“She needs to! She’s way past her prime!”

Eddie snickers as you lift your eyebrows as if to silently agree with your friend’s father.

“AND Edward is a respectable gentleman—”

“Whose father ISN’T in the prison for thieving jewelry from castles like ours?”

“That doesn’t make him a bastard.”, Steve whispered under his breath causing his father to stomp forward and hit his son hard in the cheek.

“It’s too bad you don’t have this kind of fight in you when it comes to a work ethic.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m fighting for something I care about.”, his son spits back before turning and powerwalking out the door running into you both as you lean nonchalantly against the opposite wall. “Oh, that’s inconspicuous.”

You giggle as you run to keep up with him as he continues walking down the hall, your olive-green gown flowing behind you as you do.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ll survive.”, he replies a bit curtly before pausing at a set of double doors and grabbing your bicep. “Why don’t we skip this affair and spend some time in the library.”

“Steve.”, you smile as you reach up to move some of his loose hair away from his face. “We all got dressed up to come to your father’s idiotic dance. The least we could do is make an appearance.”

“I think she just wants to impress William.”, Eddie teases making you blush as you reach forward and lightly punch his arm making little to no impact against his black suit jacket he looked incredibly handsome in.

“Look, your father may be a rude but he’s right.”, you shrug. “If I don’t get married soon—”

Steve’s soft palm extended towards you to cup your face as his thumb slid across your lips to silence you. Touches like this were not abnormal and even you had flirted with the idea of taking your friendship further but shame overtook you when you realized you cared about both men.

You could care less about your parent’s approval or how society would view you. They did that already with the many men who tried to court you but you did care about them. Eddie was already demeaned for being “new money” since his family didn’t come from wealth. Add in the fact that he rarely behaved or dressed in a manner they found suitable but all that mattered to you was his kind demeanor and how he always made you smile.

Steve was constantly judged by high society because he struggled to follow the “proper etiquette” of someone in his status. He just wanted to live his life the way he wanted and you encouraged that. He was incredibly smart and protective which is something you enjoyed on late nights when he would sneak into your room and you two would lay together talking about the future.

A relationship with one of them let alone two would bring undo trouble their way and you loved them too much to allow that.

“Fuck my father, honey. All that matters is that you’re happy.”

Grinning, you loop your arm through his and gesture towards Edward so you can do the same with him.

“As long as I’m with my two best friends, I’m happy.”

***

“What do you think? Has she finally found the one?”, Eddie asks as he passes his friend the bottle of scotch they stole from one of his father’s many offices.

“Please…William Hargrove isn’t the kind to settle down but…who knows. She’s an amazing woman.”

“Yeah she is.”

This was one of Steve’s favorite spots in his large family estate, the garden out back. Since he met you two, he would bring you out by the fountain where you would play games and make him laugh. As you three grew, it because a place to gossip and talk about anything that came to mind. You had made a plan to meet here within one hour’s time so the gentleman could be seen before disappearing but you were late which was making your long-haired friend nervous.

“You don’t think something happened right?”

“I’m not sure but if it’s something good I know she’d kill us for interrupting.” As Steve chuckles, Eddie can’t help but force a smile before letting out a long-winded sigh. “I know…”

“Maybe we should finally tell her how we feel…say something…”

“Say what?”, you asked with a happy sounding high pitched tone appearing in front of them.

“What took you so long? Talking with William?”

“Oh, yes, I was but he is just so intellectually draining.”, you tease, mimicking your voice to sound like Steve’s parents.

“Your hair is pulled back differently. Some of the strands are loose.”, Eddie notices as he rises to his feet but at the action however you take a step backward. “Where did you get that shawl?”

“Oh, um, I stole it from Lady Bradberry. That’s what she gets for always calling me a harlot.”

As you chuckle, your eyes become glassy as your voice cracks. Both boys take a step forward and once again you back away.

“Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here. We can go to my estate—”

“Let us see, Y/N.”

This time when Steve extends his hand out you don’t pull away, allowing him to slowly pull down the garment covering your shoulder exposing the slowly forming bruise.

“No, no.”, you scold as you watch their eyes cloud over in anger. “I took care of it, alright? William won’t be a concern anymore. Edward! Steven! No!”, you hiss as you try to pull on their arms to stop them as they begin stomping towards the castle. “No! I won’t let you ruin your reputations over me.”

Abruptly, Eddie turns around and cups your face in his palms as his lips passionately press to yours. You had tasted him before on many a lonely night but this felt different in the best possible way.

“You don’t seem to understand, my lady. You…mean more to us than any reputation…”

This time you allow them to continue forward, following close behind as they reenter Steve’s home and make a beeline for the study where you had last been. To your surprise, William wasn’t far but to his surprise you weren’t back to reconsider his offer of becoming his mistress.

Steve’s fist flew before any words were exchanged and your breath caught in your throat as you watched the men you cared for defend your honor.

“Steven!”, his father shouted as he tried to pull his son off the unlucky man now bleeding on the floor. Friends of the Harringtons and Hargroves ran in to separate everyone but while everyone crowded around the man who had physically hurt you, your best friends backed away to make sure they were front of you, shielding you from everyone.

“What is wrong with you, you imbecile!”, Mr. Harrington scolded as he pointed his finger towards Steve. “William is set to be married next month to Lady Cunningham. Everyone will be talking about this.”, he gestures towards the man’s bleeding face.

“That filth put his hands on the woman I love.”

Your hopeful eyes widen at his words and to your relief Eddie doesn’t flitch or hiss at his friend.

They both care about you to.

Reaching out, your fingers cling to their formal jackets causing both men to stand up straighter.

“I’m DONE with all this nonsense! You are no longer allowed to be friends with those two. End it now.”

“No.”

“EXCUSE ME!?”

“He said no.”, Eddie defended. “Y/N and I have known your son since we were children and thankfully he’s nothing you or that scum.”, he growls as he gestures towards William.

“Get out of my home!”

“With pleasure.”

At Steve’s final words, they both grab your hands and power walk out the double doors into the garden.

***

Your eyes follow them as they maneuver around the Munson bedroom; Steve roughly hurling off his jacket and Eddie doing the same before gathering some supplies in his lavatory.

You three had spent many an intimate night here. The first time either of them kissed or touched you was on this floor or in the big comfy bed. You all made a vow that this would never be anything more but never elaborated on why. You knew your reasons but…

“Why didn’t you say anything before? About how you feel?”

Edward smirk salaciously as he kneeled in front of you and placed a cool rag with ice against your now prominent, purple bruise.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because of this.”, you gesture towards your other friend who was now facing you both with his hands on his hips. “Because I didn’t want to be the reason you both lost everything.”

“Sweetheart…”, Eddie cooed in a soothing tone. “You ARE everything.”

Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair as your lips tenderly kiss his till you feel a dip in the mattress beside you.

“You’re not a…harlot or a whore…”, Steve conveys, wincing at the negative as if he’s disgusted to even say them. “I remember when we were children, your mother would let me sleep over when my father would scream at me and my own mother. You and Kallie always made me smile.”

As he turns to face you, the other man continues to kiss your neck as he reaches behind your back to unlace your gown.

“I can’t picture my life with you, Y/N. I’d give up everything, my name, status, and reputation… just to have you here with us.”

Your palm caresses his cheek and in return he tilts down to bring his lips to yours. Soft kisses turn heated as they undress you and then themselves.

“We can go anywhere we want to.”, Eddie breathes into your ear as you lay on your back between them. “We can take one of the Harrington’s many, MANY ships and run to someplace new.”

They smile when you giggle as their palms roam your soft skin.

“Maybe we can build our own estate where we can be together and happy.”, Steve added as his hand slid between your legs.

“We can grow our own supplies and I can play my music.”

As the other man speaks his fingers spread open your pussy lips making you moan as he begins to rub circles against your clit. His friend joins him as he guides two of his own into your dripping hole.

“Oh…my…”

“I can become a businessman and own a shop in town. Maybe you can come work with me and sell things at the counter with that gorgeous smile. Fuck, I love seeing you smile.”

“Would…would we have any…children?”, you ask as you feel that knot steadily building in your tummy.

“Of course, sweetheart. We’d have so many we’d have to build more rooms in our home till it’s as big as a Harrington Castle!”

You and Steve chuckle at your friend’s exclamation; yours more of a pant as both their rhythm hastens.

“I love you both…so much…I-I should have said something—mmm—before but…I was scared.”

“We know, honey. We know.”

“Just like that. Fuck, I’m coming.”

Both sets of lips attached to your throat as your body trembled and you came undone.

“Listen to you trying not to scream.”, Steve teased. “You can here, beautiful.”

You giggle as the other man flips you on to your side and pulls your back to his chest. While kissing your cheek, he lifts your leg in the air and you both groan as he guides his cock into your entrance.

“Oh god, Y/N.”

“Fuck, Eddie. So big.”

His mouth falls open as his humid breath warms your face and his large palm cups one of your breasts. When your hand covers his, you realize his knuckles still have remnants of dry blood.

“Thank you—mmm—for protecting me.”

“Of course. Fuck—fuck that self-righteous son of a bitch.”

“You’re safe with us, honey.”, Steve smiled softly as he leaned forward to capture your lips.

“Always have been. God, you feel so good. Say my name, sweetheart. T-Tell me again you love me.”

“Ahhhh—I love you, Edward. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. Please, make me cum.” Locking your eyes with the man in front of you, your body shakes and you scream Eddie’s name repeatedly as you cum. “Please…please… cum inside me.”

The long-haired boy’s rhythm falters for a moment before his fingers grip your cheeks forcing you face him.

“Are you sure? We’ve never…”

“I’m sure. I want to have a family with you…both of you.”

“Fuck—”, he grunts at your confession as his eyes squeeze shut and he clings to your sweaty form as he pounds his release into your cunt. “H-Hearing you say that…that you really do want a family with a…commoner like me—”

“You’re not a commoner, honey. Your uncle worked so hard to get where he is.”

“I love you.”, he whispers and kisses your lips.

Grinning, you focus on Steve and circle your arms around his neck as he tugs you under his large frame.

“Thank you for defending me to.”

You can’t help but giggle as he trails kisses from your forehead, down to your nose, and along your cheek to your neck.

“I’ll always protect you and defend you. No matter what.” Your eyes roll back as he gradually pushes his length into your slightly sore pussy. “Fuck—I love you, Y/N.”

###############

“And there she goes. Why do I even bother?”, the nurse sasses as you promptly climb out of the pod and run to your room.

You were having so much trouble catching your breath having been pulled out in the middle of your intimate moment. You could still feel the intense want and need of having Steve inside you but more than anything your current reality was mixing with that one as you started to sob, feeling heartbroken that you didn’t hear yourself tell this man again that you loved him.

A rough palm grabbed your bicep and turned you around as lips crashed to your own.

The second you recognized the taste, you allowed Steve to push your back against the wall as his arms held your waist as close to him as possible.

He tastes the same as the other universes. How can that be?

Neither of you willing to separate, you listened to him grunt in your ear as he sloppily pulled down your sweats before tugging at his own enough to free his hard, leaking cock from its confinement.

“Oh f-fuck.”, you mewled as he stretched your tight pussy open and set an aggressive pace as he slammed his hips into yours.

Your fingers threaded through his soft hair as you bit into his shoulder to stifle the continuous moans that wanted to break free especially when he took hold of one of your thighs to wrap around his waist as he hit your g-spot at a much more precise angle.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s soft chocolate ones in the doorway and that was enough to allow the coil to snap as you whimpered Steve’s name repeatedly into his ear. At the feeling of your cunt quivering around him, he dropped your leg and quickly pulled out, pumping his cock in his fist till you felt his spend hit your thigh.

“I-I love you.” At your words, Steve tilted back to look at your face. “I said it to Eddie again. Y-You said it to me but I didn’t get to say it back. I didn’t get to say it back. I did the same with Kallie. I didn’t say it back and then she died.”

Your arms clung to him tighter as he slid with you to the cold tile floor. A blanket was wrapped around your lower half before you felt another set of strong arms circle around you.

“Sweetheart, just like that Steve in the other universe, I’m sure your sister knew you loved her.”, Eddie whispered as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done.”, you murmur back.

“In every universe my father hates me including this one. He wants me to be someone I’m not. Feeling that in every universe so far… it’s heartbreaking but I know I’m ok because of you two.”, Steve sighs and when you pull back he quickly wipes the tear that escaped down his cheek.

“In all of mine my mom is dead and my dad abandons me leaving me with my uncle. I…I feel them all…all the memories those other versions of me have with my mother being a loving woman and my father being an abusive piece of shit. I feel what I feel for you and Steve; my best friend and the woman I care for. I get overcome with this strong need to protect you.”, Eddie follows as his voice shakes.

“That has to mean something. If whatever you did in those universes didn’t affect us there…”

“Then it won’t affect us here.”, the metalhead finished.

Shaking your head, you push yourself away from them and pull up your sweats as you head for the door.

“You’re safe with us, Y/N.”, Steve called giving you pause. “That’s been the same in every universe to…including this one.”

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