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

mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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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 · 2 months

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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 · 10 months

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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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daysofyellowroses · 8 months

Text

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 · 5 months

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."

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vhstown · 11 months

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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schemmentis · 6 months

Text

Revelation

Anon asked: Prompt: With Jacob living with Melissa, he sees how gay she is around reader and tries to open her eyes for it.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3k

Pt. 2

“So…” Jacob drawls as he brings the last of the dirty dishes in from the living room. “When are we gonna talk about it? Because I kinda can't pretend I'm not seeing what I'm seeing at this point.”

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Melissa questions. A stern look at him for his not forthright way of speaking. “Talk about what, kid?”

“Y'know…Y/N.”

“What about Y/N?” Melissa rephrases her original question as she takes a step away from her sink. A hand on her hip as she outright glares at Jacob now. Irritated at his still beating around the actual topic, and now that he's bringing you into it too.

You were the newest member of their little Abbott crew. Still, you had been around long enough that they all knew you fairly well. Melissa, arguably, the most of all of them. Though she wasn't necessarily the warmest person; she certainly was more so than when you had first met her.

You were now a regular on the couch for morning news, at Mel and Barb's table for lunch, and the game nights the red head sometimes hosted. The crew, especially Janine, had wanted it to be held more often. Melissa maintained once a month was more than enough to invite them all into her space after school hours.

She stands even more firm on that stance now that Jacob is staying with her. She's grown more fond of him in their short time so far as roommates. He'd surprised her on more than one occasion for some of the things they had in common. The sharing of Real HouseWives goes a long way just by itself. Still, she wasn't about to invite anyone in any further.

Except, when she wasn't paying attention she already had. You had taken the spot right behind Barbara of being her favorite. Some days, you surpassed her work wife too.

She raises an eyebrow when Jacob still stands across from her in the kitchen. Game night had just ended and he was kindly helping clean up afterward. Then he had to ruin Melissa's mood by implying something about you. She still didn't understand what the younger man was trying to get at as he stumbled over the start of his next sentence beneath her glare. She knew, though, if it was anything bad about you she was prepared to make it however long they stayed sharing a living space hell for him. Even if she did like him.

“Would you just spit it out?”

“How much you like Y/N, is what I was trying to say. I didn't realize how close you two were until now.”

Melissa scoffs. This is what he had gotten her worked up over? She tugs the dish towel slung over her shoulder off to toss it onto Jacob's. “You dry.” She mutters, turning back to her sink to begin washing the used dishes.

“Of course I like Y/N. I don't see what the big deal is.” Melissa says after a moment of washing in silence.

“I knew you always picked her to team up with on game nights, obviously.” Jacob says as he dries the plate she's handed him. “And how you guys are at school and all. I just never noticed the other stuff until staying here.”

“What other stuff, Hill?”

Jacob's brow furrows, realizing Melissa really doesn't see it. “You talk to her every night on the phone.” He says, gently setting the plate into the dish rack before taking the bowl she's holding out to him. “Even though it's only been a few hours since you saw her last.”

“So?”

“I mean, do you do that with Barbara?”

“No, why would I? I'll talk to her in the mornin’ or Monday, whatever. Whenever we're at school next. Unless somethin’ bad's happened.”

“Right…” Jacob trails off, trying to navigate the conversation carefully. Part of him worries he's reading too much into things. The other part is worried he's already irritated the redhead just by starting this conversation and if he is right it's clearly going to be a revelation for Melissa.

He clears his throat, trying another approach. “Do you and, uh, Barbara do anything on the weekends?”

Melissa gives him a side eyed look. A little bit like he's dumb for asking. At least, he's sort of used to that one from her. “No. She's got church and Gerald.” She says like that's obvious and he should know that.

Which, he does know. He shifts the piece of silverware he's drying to the dish rack. “Last weekend you went to the movies with Y/N.”

“Yeah, she wanted to see Barbie. Again. She insisted it's different at the theater.”

“The weekend before that you went to the farmer's market together.”

“I'm not gonna pass up fresh produce, especially the peppers. I can use those in plenty of dishes and you get twice as much than at the supermarket. Besides, Y/N is always looking for fresh, local honey. New vendors, too. If somebody new is at one of the local markets then she's gotta go check it out.”

Silently, Jacob is begging Melissa to get his point but he can see she really isn't.

“You don't think it's…different with Y/N?”

“It's different with all youse.” Melissa answers as she shoves the last cleaned plate into Jacob's hands, frustrated at his prodding. “I ain't with you like I am with Barb and I'm not with Barb like I am with Y/N. What's it matter?”

“It doesn't.” Jacob answers quickly. At least, it doesn't in the way he can tell his questions are beginning to stress Melissa out. He certainly isn't judging, or trying to.

He thought Melissa at least had an idea of the different way her relationship with Y/N was when he first brought it up. He thought he had just caught onto something that was being kept private. Now, though, it's clear to him that Melissa hasn't even considered that relationship to this level.

“I just noticed you guys…spend a lot of time together is all. I thought…” Jacob stops himself from finishing his thought. He doesn't know how Melissa will take it now.

“You thought what?” Melissa presses, wiping down the kitchen counter. She doesn't turn to him but Jacob can hear the glare in her tone.

“I thought you guys were…seeing where things were going.” Jacob hedges.

“What's that even ‘spose to mean?”

“I thought you were dating and just not ready to tell everyone yet.” Jacob finally says plainly.

“Dating?” Melissa echoes, turning back to face Jacob now. In half a second, she gauges his seriousness. He means it. “You thought me and Y/N were, are, dating?”

Jacob shrugs helplessly. “Yeah. You two are just kind of…always together.”

“Well. We’re not.” Melissa says sternly.

Jacob nods. “I get that now. I won't just…assume next time?” He hesitantly promises, mustering a smile he hopes will disarm Melissa's demeanor. “For what it's worth, you guys would be good together, though.” He adds, making his way out of the kitchen to put away monopoly still left out on the coffee table.

Melissa stares after Jacob. He's disappeared from sight but her eyes remain on the space he had stood in before. A knee-jerk part of her says it's ridiculous he even thought the two of you were dating. A larger part acknowledges how he could have thought it.

She takes a deep breath, turning back to the sink. She lets the dirty dish water from the sink. She wipes the faucet and edges before wiping down the metal of the sink once the water’s drained. She drapes the dishrag over the metal divider between the two basins.

Her hands brace against the edge of the sink. A dim metal thunk when her palms hit it with small force. “Shit.” She’s falling for you.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x you #revelation

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gothic-thoughts · 7 months

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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agoodroughandtumble · 6 months

Text

None of Those Girls Are Me Part 2 - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is completely oblivious to Zoro’s feelings Warnings: 18+, Language, might be smut or implied smut in further chapters

You had remained next to him for the rest of the night – completely unaware as to how grateful he was that you had given up on your random flirtations. Unsurprisingly, the more you drank the more animated you became – increasingly excited about every topic of conversation, laughing without a care in the world and so, so oblivious to the way Zoro was looking at you. He was grateful for that too. He could let himself indulge, just a little, safe in the knowledge that any lingering looks that could give him away were far from your radar.

The bar lights reflected in your eyes, emphasising their own brightness lit up by your smile. Zoro couldn’t help but think that the stars themselves were dancing in those eyes, and only for him. This delusion was only exacerbated by the way your thighs were touching his and the ease at which you invaded his personal space, as if you already knew he had made room for you behind his walls months ago.

He was too busy allowing himself to relax against your hand on his forearm that your question threw him completely off guard.

“So what sort of girls do you like?” You were looking at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to respond with anything other than “You, obviously”.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I told you I’m not really into the one night stand thing.”

You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. “I know. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking in general. Oh!” You wiggled your fingers, trying to think, “Who was that girl? Urgh,” fingers increased speed as you wracked your brain. “Toshiko? The marine, with the swords. You liked her.”

Zoro’s eyes studied your carefully. “Tashigi. She’s a pain in the arse.”

You smiled wryly at him. “Uh huh.”

He wasn’t quite sure where you were going with this, but was definitely sure he wasn’t going to like it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Zoro watched as you chewed your lips, trying really, really hard not to think what those lips tasted like. Probably alcohol at this point, his probably did too. Which was more than find since he could blame said alcohol for his inability to stop staring.

“Well,” you shuffled almost impossibly closer, “Just in my experience if someone gets under your skin that much there’s a reason why.”

He let out an amused sigh and tried to force the upturned corner of his mouth back to neutrality. The irony of you saying that to him was surely the universe’s biggest “fuck you” yet.

You had noticed the change in his expression. “I knew it!”

Oh fuck. He prepared himself for the onslaught of questions, the feigned disbelief because obviously you had to be aware, and, lastly, he prepared himself for the “gentle” let down that while you liked him, it wasn’t in that way but you still wanted to be friends – for the sake of the crew, and all. He hadn’t prepared himself for the triumphant way you clapped your hands together, eyes lighting up almost too brightly.

“You do like her!”

The fuck.

He took a sip of his drink. A rather long sip. More of a downing if anything. Thankfully the bar was so busy that whenever one of you went to get a round you came back with multiples to save the constant queueing. So he kept drinking. It was almost as if his brain had short circuited. If he said he didn’t, you would just tease him about denying his feelings. But he couldn’t say he did because obviously that was a lie. You were clearly expecting some sort of reaction, and him just downing drinks wasn’t exactly giving off the impression that he Did Not Care. So, in a last act of desperation he did something completely out of character that he was surely going to regret, but he’d found himself digging such a hole the only way out was to blow the whole terrain up. He set his drink down and turned to face you, trying to show some semblance of indifference. “Say if I did like anyone, how do I…” he sighed. This was the worst idea but the only one that wasn’t screaming from the rooftops. “Do that.”

The smile on your face was almost maniacal. He would find it adorable if it didn’t instil him with fear. You were clearly not going to let this go. “Are you asking me for dating advice?” You laughed and his heart twinged. “The great Pirate Hunter Zoro is afraid of telling a girl he likes her?”

Obviously yes. But you didn’t have to spell it out. You could have afforded him that dignity at least. But his mouth spoke before his brain engaged and said the worst possible thing. “No, just tell me what girls like. What you would like.”

You smirked and picked up your drink offering a toast. “Oh, I’m going to get you so many girls.”

#opla #one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #opla x reader

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magicfootballstuff · 10 months

Note

Please can we have a mapi leon ficlet?

You arrive at training one morning to find a bit of a commotion in the changing room.

Having only lived in Barcelona for a few months, your Spanish is still at a fairly basic level and your Catalan is limited to just a few phrases, but this morning the girls are far too hysterical about something for you to be able to understand what’s going on at all. Whatever it is, it seems to be centring around Alexia and Patri, but you sit down in your usual spot next to Mapi, who is watching on with amusement, and ask her to explain.

“What’s going on?”

“Alexia went to one of the millions of fancy events she gets to go to and met Patri’s celebrity crush,” Mapi fills you in on the situation.

“Who’s that?”

Mapi gives you a name, but it’s not somebody you’ve heard of and you tell her as much.

“I don’t know who that is?”

“She’s a famous singer here in Spain,” Mapi explains. She messes around with her phone for a few seconds, then tilts the screen towards you, showing you an Instagram post of Alexia dressed in a sparkling black gown standing next to the singer, equally glammed up. “What do you think? Worth the hype?”

Objectively, the singer is quite pretty. But what you say is, “I don’t know if she’s really my type.”

“Okay, but you have to admit she’s hot,” Mapi pushes you, an incredulous frown on her face.

“I … uh, I guess so,” you concede with a shrug.

“So, what is your type then?” Mapi asks, as conversationally as she would if she were asking you what you did on your day off.

You feel your cheeks start to heat up as you reply, “Um, well, historically men.”

“Oh,” Mapi says, her eyes widening in realisation. “Oh.”

“Is that a problem?” you ask.

“Not a problem, just a surprise,” Mapi answers, quickly recovering from her surprise. “I have a bad habit of assuming people are gay until they tell me otherwise. But it’s fine if you’re straight.”

The thing is, you’re probably not straight. In fact, you’re definitely not. But you’re also not quite sure what label applies to you yet, or if there even is a label at all. Even if there was, you’re not practised enough at coming out to be able to drop it into casual conversation without massively overthinking beforehand.

“Anyway, it’s okay to admit that a girl is hot,” Mapi teases you. “We’re not going to suddenly revoke your heterosexual membership card just because you find one woman attractive.”

You allow yourself to laugh.

“What?” Mapi asks, catching her tongue between her teeth as she grins at you. “Do the straights not have memberships? I’m pretty sure I’ve had my gay one since I was about fourteen.”

“Of course you have. Anyway, I don’t think either of those ‘memberships’ is for me.”

You hope Mapi picks up on the meaning behind your words. You don’t think you’re ready to spell it out explicitly yet, but you feel safe enough with Mapi to test the waters a little bit.

“That’s okay,” Mapi says, reaching out to squeeze your thigh in reassurance. “Labels are overrated anyway.”

You feel the relief wash over your body. Mapi is kind and open-minded and you knew she wouldn’t shun you from the team just because you’ve been having an identity crisis recently, but it doesn’t make the idea of admitting it aloud any less scary. But it feels really good to have said it, even if you implied it more than actually said the words yourself.

“You’re actually the first person I’ve admitted that to,” you say, almost laughing in relief, that’s how good it feels to get this off your chest. “That I might want to … you know.”

“Date people who aren’t men?” Mapi finished your sentence for you.

You nod.

“Yeah.”

Mapi reaches for your hand and gives your fingers a squeeze.

“Well I’m flattered to be the first.”

“So, what’s your type?” you ask Mapi.

Perhaps sensing that you want to move on quickly from the big revelation about your identity, Mapi answers straight away.

“Well the most important thing for me is passion,” Mapi tells you. “Passion about football, passion about food, passion about anything really. I love listening to a woman tell me about something that she loves. But also kindness, intelligence, somebody who isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in, even if it’s difficult. Integrity, you know? Somebody with strong values.”

“Wow,” you say, amazed that Mapi has given it so much thought, when your own type isn’t much more than the word ‘girls???’ in flickering lights at the front of your mind.

Mapi pushes off the bench, ready to follow the rest of the team, who seem to have calmed down slightly since the hysterics when you first arrived, out onto the pitch, but she turns and shoots you a wicked grin before she leaves, adding, “Oh, and someone with a great ass.”

#woso imagine #ficlet requests #mapi leon x reader #this is bromance more than romance

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lowkeyremi · 8 months

Note

hey hey! May I ask for a choso x fem!reader in where user is also like choso—a half curse; but she’s stronger than choso.

Thank you if you do this and have a great day <33

Mysteries choso x fem!reader

note: of course, lovely!! choso is always welcomed in my inbox!!!! also i'm not sure if this is what you wanted i hope this is okay :)

content: reader is a little bit cocky, but choso is down for that, getting together, fluff

The first time you two crossed paths it wasn't a big deal. You were headed to see some old friends and he was headed to see his brother. That first time you saw him he was at the mall with his brother. You couldn't help but stare because he stuck out like a sore thumb, in an attractive kind of way though.

This time though, you're walking down a busy street when he bumps into you and keeps walking like he hasn't just almost knocked you down.

"Uh excuse me?" You wasted no time catching up to him, once you realized it was him it gave you an excuse to talk to him.

"Huh?" He asks not even sparing you a glance. There was something about this guy that just struck him as odd.. he definitely isn't a human. At least you don't think he is.

The man in question is a bit taller than you are, his shoulders stiff and he's even hunching a little bit. Wanting to get a better look at him you pull him down an alleyway, which causes him a little bit of shock.

"How did you-"

"You're not human, are you?" The question that's been plaguing your mind for only a few seconds finally surfaces. Something in your brain screams, "jeez let the guy breath before you harass him with questions!"

His eyes widen giving you his answer but he avoids your question by asking the one he was previously going to ask, "How did you pull me with such little force?"

"Training. Answer my question." It causes him to wonder, just what are you?

"You're not human either." He accuses, which is true...

"For your information I am half human. My father was a curse." You respond with sass and the man in question stares at you wondering if he should tell you what he's thinking.

"I'm half human too.. I haven't met many like me. My father was a curse.. well rather taken over by a curse and it's what created me."

You both stare at each other for a while in awe at being one in the same. People passing the alley might think you two are crazy or homeless but what does it matter?

"Well Mr. half and half, what's your name?" He raises a brow, a question already at the tip of his tongue, "What's yours?"

"I asked first!" And while it's true, this man is quite stubborn. "I won't tell you mine until you tell me yours." His voice is lower than before. It's obvious that he is trying and failing to intimidate you. Maybe if you were any other person you'd be scared but you find it adorable how he scowls at you because it looks more like a pout.

"Fine. I'm [name], who are you?" You place a hand on your hip and the guy finally decides to answer after a long exhale.

"I'm Choso." You wait for him to continue but he doesn't. He just stares at you and you stare at him.

"Well... uh. I'll be going now." Your brain starts to panic as he walks away so on instinct you grab his wrist and pull him toward you with so much force it causes him to fall on top of you.

"Uh.... sorry. I forget how to control my power sometimes.." The wild wide eyed look he's giving you makes you a little shy all of a sudden.

Without thinking you lean in to "inspect him a little better" but you momentarily close your eyes and he gets the hint. His lips meet yours halfway, and it's a gentle experimental kiss.

When you pull back you stare in shock and wonder, "I just kissed a stranger.."

"That's what you were implying right? That would be very embarrassing if I read that wrong." He sputters out of nervousness and maybe embarrassment. Choso looks anywhere but at your face, suddenly the old brick wall was very interesting to him.

"No yeah, I uh- think that's what I wanted? I mean. It was nice. I liked it." Clearly you had no fucking clue what you were doing so you were ranting to make it seem like you planned that out.

"Um.. here's my card. Call me!" And you're the one to run off leaving Choso wondering what the hell just happened in the span of seven minutes. Yuji would probably tease him and say, "YOU? You played seven minutes in heaven with a stranger!!???"

He would have to remind the younger that it was NOT a game and just a random by chance kiss. He carefully placed your card in his pocket. Maybe he'll get to see you again one day, and he'll kiss you for real.

#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x female reader #choso fluff #choso jjk #jjk choso #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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that-spider-fan-over-there · 1 month

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BNHA 430: This wasn’t very “My Hero Academia” of you I’ll be honest—

Okay, where do I begin? Uh. So the story reached its conclusion. Congratulations, and all the best to Horikoshi-san for telling the story he wanted to tell for ten years, loved the characters, the little world he created after the cancellation of his previous works, I will cherish it for the rest of my life.

... but in my opinion: the last seven chapters were so bad- I don't think I can see this ending as anything other than a contradiction of what we were shown. Like, I thought we'd get a twist, everyone would be fine, something would change. I'm wearing the clown shoes already.

So, I'm just gonna treat this as a normal chapter, and not a final one, because I'll be here for days if I open this can of worms, which, I will not lie, is very bad (I'll open it at some point, not now.) I'm posting this on the.. 6th? Because apparently there's an announcement in the 5th and I don't wanna spoil the fun.

So, uh, under the read more are my thoughts on the ending, be warned I'm very, very negative about it.

*sigh* Oh boi, how killing the League made this go from an "underwhelming" to a "tone-deaf" chapter- I mean, Jesus fuck, leaving things open-ended don't erase the fact they can't make a single appearence to prove me wrong, if they were alive, the last five chapters were a waste of emotions and keeping them hidden was a stupidly cruel move.

Funny the narration is just "people aren't equal but it's because of these differences that people find common ground to get along"- THE VILLAINS WERE KILLED OFF FOR BEING DIFFERENT BRO WHAT DO YOU MEAN- "if lending a hand and caring is being a hero then we all became the greatest heroes". Izuku, whatever you're drinking, I'm taking it and drinking it all by myself. You may have cared. But Tenko died. On accident. Because you gave him OFA.

I liked the "Midoriya-Sensei" part. For 5 seconds. It's fitting, he loves learning stuff, he's good with kids, until you say it's only because his embers were gone. Then why use it as a tease for seven chapters only to just get rid of them at the end? Is running to Ochako really the last we get to see him use it? Not even as a part-time hero? (not that it matters at the end-)

Ragdoll works with the WWP, Tsukuachi was head strategist in the final battle, Hawks is the (H)PSC president, why wasn't Izuku hired at an agency? Intelligence was a huge part of his character, yet the moment he was fully Quirkless again, he was out? Men truly aren't created equal...

"Cursed power", "blessing", "special" — the only thing special about OFA was being haunted by a guy whose brother was insane enough to hunt it down for generations. A Quirk's a Quirk; having multiple people/powers in one body isn’t special, Tokoyami and Shoto exist. Izuku made it special using it on his terms. But I guess "meant to save, not kill" was a lie, as eight out of ten people who had it died. Nine out of eleven, counting BNHA: HR. Tenko died because his body couldn't handle the Quirk, but I guess Izuku isn't gonna think about any of it? Katsuki was right about this too, holy shit.

Spinner wrote a book (not a comic, guess he took offense to Izuku. Fair, actually). Mr. Compress got a panel, but no real mention of the LoV? They broke the status quo for months (in-universe), and after all of that, nothing changes? Did Spinner know about Tenko, how he became Tomura? And the people who will read it and pull an MLA? TomurAFO had followers, now he's martyr a lá Re-Destro, I’m hoping Spinner didn’t commit suicide like that guy.

Ochako’s expanding Quirk Counseling. Reform’s implied (it only said expansion), but Himiko still became what Curious wanted her to be: A cautionary tale. And I’m still asking how Ochako knows Himiko went what through, she only told Ochako she was hated because of her Quirk and how she loves. I wanna think she’s reforming it, but nothing else changed, why should I think she’s the exception?

(At least she's seen as a hero on her rights… even if it took 429 chapters, messy writing, her face looking like rubber, and still being a girl recognized as a "caretaker", not a kickass hero).

Shoji's travelling through Japan to solve discrimination and got a prize for it. No foundations or mentions of Spinner being the main reason he did it, just "standing atop those who rose up eight years ago", just solving it peacefully, you sure are, buddy. Like, I'm sure you are being successful but how exactly are you solving this? I mean, you "solved" the hospital fight by fighting Spinner with Koda- Oh wait, time constraints, we can't elaborate how.

Shirakumo showed the noumu state could've been reversed, yet Katsuki, who never killed someone aside from AFO (and he was gonna die anyway), fatally exploded him. I hoped it was a misunderstood panel but no. He died because he wanted to save Tenko. Even fucking Gran Torino was alive by the end of this. Why.

I think Shoto is the only main character I’m not really having a problem with (Ochako's ending required Himiko for it to feel somewhat complete. Sorry, Ochako). I’m weirded out that they mentioned the billboard using the guy whose life was ruined by it as an example, but other than that, he’s doing fine. Wish we saw him talking to his siblings though. But alas. No mention of Fuyumi and Natsuo. And Rei's with Endeavor. Fuck.

Inko got so sidelined when Mitsuki and Masaru got half a chapter, by the way. Just one panel for her, the protagonist's mother.

Schedules not aligning is one thing, but Class A not opening an agency together? They survived two wars together and you're telling me they wouldn't say "WE'RE WORKING TOGETHER AND WE'RE TAKING MIDORIYA WITH US"? Also, where’s the "world where heroes have time to spare" when they look so busy? Were they understaffed or working as celebrities? (if someone says it was for the suit I will point out to the three nepo babies of Class A, Katsuki’s a dumbass if he forgot that detail).

Dude. We wasted pages on a kid that can throw plates from his hair. To tell him he can be a hero. Coming from the guy who had to go when he lost OFA. I'm not taking this parallel seriously.

I wish Izuku wasn't in "everything’s fine" mode until the end. We're really gonna leave him at "implied" mode, not confirm if his mental state's fine? Being open and emotional was an appealing part of him and now we just get “Yeah that’s just how it is”.

This one's petty and irrational, I know, but since I'm letting some of the steam out: I hate Izuku's new design; face scars (the constant "HE FAILED" reminder makes my eye twitch and I wish that was a joke, but also so many characters in BNHA got face scars, it doesn't even stand out), "perfect tie", normal formal attire- where's the character highlights? The things that make Izuku stand out?

But hey: He gets to be a hero again! Not with skills, heart, intelligence, strength, in spite of Quirklessness. No, he has an Iron Man suit! That Class A paid billions for. The government should be paying Class A and B (and Shiketsu and Ketsubutsu) instead, but all they get is a pat on the back. If the suit broke down, hurt or killed him while in it I'd laugh (Hatsume and Melissa worked on it? Oh it's gonna happen). And Toshinori, what happened to him, did he hit his head when he landed on that building!?

Went from: Smiles cover his fear and reassure people, believed saving is about saving body and soul, wanted to help Tenko, only didn't because Gran Torino said it wasn't a good idea. Disliked people were being heroes for fame and not because it's the right thing to do, only used support items as reinforcement and a precaution, never as a full solution, even Iron Might was so he’d have a chance to fight, not a solution.

To: If Tenko died smiling, it wasn't resignation, he was saved, even though he died. Didn't care AFO killed the Shimura - his mentor's - bloodline. Is fine with the billboards existing, even though it caused things like the Todoroki plotline. Now he's giving Izuku a suit, when the last time he did it himself, it didn't save him and his spine was almost snapped? Dude, what?

Also I thought he was paralyzed but I guess he just had a bad back.

... I hated BKDK's conclusion. It's actually so laughable how much I hate it. If it had another outcome, I'd probably be overjoyed. But:

Thematically, Tenko wasn't rescued, it wasn't a perfect victory because AFO still got away with what he did to him. "End of an Era and The Beginning" is hollow, nothing changed for the world they lived in, and it doesn’t look like they stand out among other heroes (these are AM’s successors. How.) What new era is this, really?

Their resolutions and relationship rebuild? Offscreen, but Katsuki was the one with the Iron Man suit idea for Izuku and apparently that compensates for it. Because he’s the one who can solve all of Izuku’s problems now, not motivate him to be better anymore. It wasn’t even Izuku’ idea, it was Class A, and sure it’s a nice gesture but we’ve seen Toshinori barely come out alive even with one.

Izuku barely batted an eye to any of the things he went through - losing his arms and/or OFA? Seeing Spinner's breakdown? Lady Nagant!? Katsuki or Tenko dying!? SOME INTROSPECTION, PLEASE IT’S BEEN OVER 100 CHAPTERS SINCE YOU’VE BEEN THE EMOTIONAL MC—

Katsuki's insecurities were for nothing by the way! Izuku's empathy and heart never mattered, a Quirk was more important to be a hero in the end. BULLIED HIM FOR NOTHING BUDDY- shouldn't have done it at all but wow did it become even more pointless in hindsight. Like Twice's death. Or Katsuki’s death, since “Control Your Heart” meant nothing as well.

Izuku still remembers Tenko, but has he done anything about it? No one wants to remember him, Himiko or Touya. Spinner's book will not be taken seriously, Mr. Compress was sidelined, Twice's death was pointless. They didn't change society, they've returned to the status quo. Pointless as Izuku losing his arms.

That fucking suit- Wow, he really couldn't be a Quirkless hero, the casual rivalry was just erased for an easy way out of Izuku's consequences, there's no catching up because Katsuki paid for Izuku a way to be a hero. He went full on-simp in the most disrespectful way.

And it ends with Izuku seeing Tenko's... Ghost? Hallucination? Vestige? I guess we’ll never know, because Izuku’s following his dreams again! Let's ignore he's doing this during class hours and he definitely should be in UA but who cares, he probably quit and we'd never know, as aside for the BKDK/DKBK fics, being a teacher was clearly a inferior choice for him and he can't do both ignore Aizawa and Present Mic look at him being the world's greatest hero!

It just took 1 year of trauma, scars, following on his mentor's mistakes, losing the thing that "actually" made him be a hero, having the first and the last people he tried to save dying because of his existence (one literally by his hands), proving anyone can be a hero! By ignoring the guilt of those you failed, give hands and sparing your thoughts, having superpowers and/or connections who'll give you a suit! Fuck this shit I swear-

A story about hope bent itself over to give the protagonist an unearned happy ending, when it said it was for every character who wants to connect to that hope, who wants to give that hope. Izuku went from "wanting to be a beacon of hope and save people" to "talk about beacons of hope, but in the end, others are doing this better than you. You had none of the willpower to be one." He's not hope or unity. Act 3!Izuku is just a plot device, I feel nothing for his ending other than irritation.

You could’ve had the BKDK proposal with a double spread handhold, and I'd still think Izuku's ending isn't earned anymore. His "happy ending— actually. BKDK crumbs are compensation for this ending, I feel cheated out of this ship (I feel like I'm shipping the version of them in my head, nott the canon one 424 onwards, and it only got worse from there-)

So. Yeah, those are my thoughts about the ending. I think. I don't know if these are all of them. I feel horrible about hating it, but I've sat on this chapter for days and right now, not a lot can make me like it, especially with the timeskip, which made this "open ending" a rushed and incomplete mess. If you disagree with me, honestly, that is very fair. I'm glad for you if you liked the ending. I'm just disappointed, and wanted to share my opinions. (and I do have more stuff to say about it but I think I've been negative enough)

But for the weeks I spent hoping this wouldn't slap a classic shonen ending in this catasthrophic mess and for making me feel like a dumbass after what we got in the end: Everything after 410 that isn't 421 and 422 is non-existent to me, this epilogue was a freaking waste.

Thank you for reading.

#Boku no Hero Academia #edit: I must point to my header: I AM A BKDK SHIPPER I JUST HATE EPILOGUE THEM DON'T GET IT TWISTED PLEASE #I STILL ADORE THESE CHARACTERS BUT IF I SEE 423-ONWARDS THEM IT'S ON SIGHT #BNHA Spoilers #MHA Spoilers #spider.posts #BNHA Critical #I didn't think I'd use this tag at all but god this chapter warranted it- AND RIGHT AT THE ENDING?! WHAT THE HELL #BNHA 430

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spitefulverse · 1 year

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Composure / Miguel O'Hara

Summary: You work close with Miguel at the HQ, having an exceptionally high rank for your age, and daily, Miguel has to compose himself, refusing to let a simple girl ruin him. Or let himself, ruin her.

Warnings: Ten year legal age gap, reader is 21, Miguel is 31. Cussing, implied sexual tension, implied reader has thick thighs, slow burn, very smutty sex at end, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, idfk. miguel pushing himself away and being emo. NOT PROOFREAD 4.6k words.

You sighed, a wave of tiredness smacking you directly in the face as it hit the third our of your day in the HQ, while you loved your job, it grew tedious. And here you were, picking up coffee for you and Miguel, like some intern, however he had the decency to give you his credit card, stating "Get yourself something, I'm not a dick"

You held two, warm, grande coffees in your hands as you walked into Miguel's office, he sat at his desk, fiddling with his watch, mumbling away to Lyla, you couldn't actually hear the conversation but his voice sounded displeased and unhappy. "Uh, Mr O'Hara" You cleared your throat, standing in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot as his crimson stare slowly but surely traveled up your body, lingering on your lower half. His sunken eyes looked into yours, raising a hand to usher you over. "Thanks Lyla, you can go" He commented, eyes not leaving your frame and with that Lyla quickly dissipated, shooting you a smile as she did so. Slowly, you sauntered over, unbeknownst to why he made you feel so shrunken and quiet.

You would go into his office angry every time and without a doubt, skittishly leave his room, every time, crushing on him, thinking about how good he looks. Sometimes hes pacing, or leaning against the wall, or looking out the window in the back of the room, but every time, he seems to have an effect on you.

"Was there any issues, chiquita?" He asked, reaching out for his coffee, his large, calloused hand brushing against yours as you handed him it. Chiquita, you had googled it after he repeatedly called you it since you became more or less acquaintances, it can either be a term of endearment, like little one or little gift or it is what you would call a little girl, you hope it isn't the latter. The thought that every time he said it, he could be calling you ‘little one’ always made you bite the inside of your cheek, getting a bit giddy at the thought of him. There wasn't a time you saw him where he wasn't referring to you as ‘Chiquita’

You smiled "not at all, other than me feeling bad about using your card" You then pulled the card out of your waistband, having it tucked just between your shirt and skirt, placing that on the desk. His deep, red eyes followed your every move, watching your hands, lost in thought about how dainty they looked, he shook his head just slightly. "No, don't feel bad, i sent you on a coffee run, it's the least i could do, muñeca" He hummed, taking a drink from his coffee.

Even sat in his chair, he looked big, he was almost matching your height, broad shoulders covering the back of the seat. You nodded in response to him before looking around nervously, like you couldn't find the words to say, nor did you know what you wanted to say.

"Well, i appreciate it" That means a lot coming from him. "I do, but i need to get back to work, querida, is there anything you need?" He asked, voice hoarse, he slouched back into his chair, legs widespread and chest puffed out just slightly, a sight that you would think about for days. Timidly, you shook your head, giving him a small wave to which he quirked a brow and with little to no effort, lifted just his hand from the arm rest, tilting it to signal a silent goodbye as you turned on your heel and quietly stepped out the room.

Little did you know, his eyes burned into you as you walked away, watching your hips and thighs which were only held back by a short skirt and transparent pantyhose, something he sometimes considered you purposefully wore to drive him mad. He sighed, lifting his arm to pinch the bridge of his nose. "idiota, idiota, idiota" He quietly scolded himself under his breath. He took a sip of his coffee, inhaling, and somehow even the coffee had your scent laced upon it, he groaned, placing it down and getting back to work.

He had morals, while they were obscure and some would say disagreeable or incorrect, one of his morals was that he wouldn't flirt with a coworker ten years younger than him simply because she's pretty and intelligent, no, he didn't have time for mindless activities like that. But, fuck, you were really on his mind these days, and you were getting harder to resist.

Later that day he walked out of his office, straightening himself up and striding down the corridor, focusing on his watch to avoid meaningless conversation however something broke his focus. It was the sweet smell of your perfume and the light sound of your voice, he knew you were nearby and he silently cursed himself for leaving the confinement of his office. As if on command, you walked into his vision, chatting with another spiderman, showing the guy some papers in which he seemed extremely enthusiastic about. Miguel furrowed his brows, eyeing the situation, noticing the guy placing an hand on your shoulder, he came to a halt, a few meters away and cleared his throat.

Nervously, the younger spiderman looked up at him before looking down at his daypass, which wasn’t doing anything, and speaking up. "Uh, i have a thing in like five minutes, i have to- well- I'll see you" The man turned to you, smiling before bolting off, Miguel didn't bother to look at him, just looking at you. It was a hot day, in the HQ, especially with all the windows, you had unbuttoned the first few buttons of your blouse, exposing just enough of your chest to make his throat feel blocked.

Apprehensively, you questioned him "Are you okay? Did you need something.." Your voice was quiet and meek, he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself, repeating, she's too young, over and over again in his head. "Yeah, sorry, chiquita..um- i just needed to ask you.."

His hair was pushed back, probably from how often he was brushing it out of his face in stress, his cheekbones seemed more defined than ever and his muscles squeezed at his suit as he drifted into thought, you could see his eyes faltering over your figure for a moment but you thought it was unlikely he was checking you out, so with a smile, you chuckled "Ask me.."

"What- Did.. you get the stats on earth 473?" He asked, running a hand through his hair, there it is, the reason it's slicked back. "I did" You exclaimed "It was super hard- walk with me” you interrupted your own words “buttt, me, the amazing one.." You giddily spoke, beginning to walk away, he followed, almost feeling like you were walking him like a dog, as he listened closely, eyes not leaving you. "i managed to find some old reports in the system, use the code from them, convert it back into the new report and boom, fresh, we now have all the information we need to make sure the canon events happen" You stopped in front of your office, turning to face him and smiling even brighter.

"Wow..well- thank you, dulzura, i didn't expect you to actually do it" He placed his hands on his waist, eyebrows raised and eyes soft "I'm pleasantly surprised"

You looked up at him, accidentally giving him puppy dog eyes due to his height. "yeah?" you bit your lip.

"Yeah good girl, email them to me, ok? then if you want..go home,you finish in an hour, it's hot and you've worked your ass off" He responded, averting his gaze to his watch to sort something quickly. Your cheeks felt hot at the nickname and your heart swelled at how nice he was being to you. "Thank you Mr O'hara" You jumped a little before going into your office, he just snickered, giving himself a pat on the back for how he handled the situation, he managed to not pounce on you in front of everyone, that means something.

Good girl. Good Girl, it was new. You couldn't stop thinking about how proud he looked, about the tone of his voice as he praised you, imagining if he would act the same in bed. It kept you up most of the night, thinking about him, had he interrupted the man flirting with you out of jealousy or by chance. Did he let just any coworker use his card, you doubted it, if you were in the HQ you'd ask Lyla, but there was no AI in your apartment. Once you finally fell asleep, managing to shush your thoughts about your very own boss, Miguel, your alarm rang not long after.

With a tired groan, you got up, changing into a smart dress, expecting heat so no pantyhose, the dress reached above your mid thigh but was professional enough, you were sure you had worn it before. With haste, you ate and made your way into the office, early as usual, deciding to grab Miguel a coffee as a thanks for the early leave yesterday.

You found yourself at his door, just like the day before, gently knocking, knuckles meeting the hardwood with a quiet sound. "Come in" You heard him, his voice sounding disinterested. As you stepped in, his head didn't move, he was standing at the back of his room, looking out the window, his hands on his hips. His back looked huge and you desperately wanted to be engulfed in a tight hug by his large frame, he seemed focused, his watch flickering but he wasn't acknowledging it.

"Mr O'hara" You spoke up, voice loud but sheepish. Suddenly, he spun around, eyes a little wide as he looked at you. "Ah, angelito..I didn't realise it was you knocking, i wouldve been more-" polite, is what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself, composure, don't get comfy, don't let her get attached, he told himself "Nothing" He nodded at you, as if to say 'go on'

"I brought you a coffee..as a thanks for yesterday" You smiled, holding the coffee out with lightly shaking hands. Just then he noticed your appearance, eyes travelling over the dress, stopping at where it hugged your thighs perfectly. He cursed himself and walked over, taking the coffee, letting his middle finger rest on your hand, pausing your shaking.

His hand was warm, and just the slightest touch made you feel hot, your face flushed and you looked at him with wide eyes. "You nervous, chiquita?" He tilted his head, eyes dark as he removed his hand from yours, taking a sip of the coffee.

"No- not at all Mr O'Hara, just-"

"Miguel" He looked away, voice stern and plain. You were taken aback, furrowing your brows "huh?"

"Call me Miguel, no need for formality, this is my business after all." He then internally punched himself in the face, what the fuck was he saying.

"But-"

"Ah- shush muñeca, I mean it, thank you for the coffee, you shouldn't have, what was it you wanted?" He was quick with his points and quick to finish others, leaving no room for questioning. He calmly strode over to his desk, taking a seat in the chair behind it, leaning back into it. You were speechless.

"I just- well i don't want to..push you too far" You started, tiptoeing over and taking a seat in the chair opposite, to which he quirked a brow, stopping mid coffee sip, watching the way you crossed one leg over the other. "But, my work laptop, it's kind of.."

"Shit" He commented, finishing your sentence, placing his coffee down, then his forearms on the table as if he was really listening to you, sitting up straight before leaning slightly towards you "I know they are"

"exactly, so, and you can say no but please, do not shut me down." You pointed at him, tilting your head and giving him a pleading look. He lifted his hands just slightly in mock defense, not making a sound. "Could i please, please have an upgrade?" You put your hands together and gave him your best sad eyes. Fuck, you could have anything you wanted, if it wasn't for his morals. You looked so timid and precious from his angle, it made his body shaky.

He stared blankly at you, scarlet eyes half lidded and unimpressed at your childish begging, but in reality it honestly turned him on, he wanted you to be begging for other things. It almost grew into a staring contest, your big eyes meeting his dissatisfied ones for a short while. You didn't seem to be quitting, so he sighed, looking down and shaking his head "¿qué me estás haciendo chiquita?" (T:what are you doing to me, little girl/one?) He groaned, brushing his hair back, missing various strands which fell onto his forehead. "Okay. We'll get you an upgrade, but do not tell everyone at HQ because then i'll have everyone in that chair with puppy dog eyes" He grunted.

You smiled brightly "Thank you!" He was being abnormally nice, you thought maybe you had impressed him with your work enough to earn a soft spot in his heart, while that was true, but in reality he was falling more and more each day. You then noticed his messy hair that he couldn't seem to control, ignoring your thanks as he attempted to push it back.

"If i may..Miguel?" You stood, leaning over the desk, inches away from him, you still weren’t used to his first name.

"Hm?" He looked up from his desk to be eye level with your chest, eyes widening and throat growing choked up. You hummed back, taking it as enough confirmation to gently fix his hair for him, fingers gently padding away at the loose strands, brushing his face, it made you feel hot, knowing you were so close to him, bending over his desk, but how you wished it was for another reason.

He couldn't look away, admiring the sight in front of him, when he shifted his vision, he saw your frame bending over, he didn't know which was more provocative but either way the blood was rushing somewhere he couldn't deal with right now, yet he didn't move you, he waited patiently, enjoying the feeling of your hands in his hair.

Slowly, you stepped back, smiling shyly "much better" You uttered, standing straight, noticing his flushed face. He mumbled a 'thank you' before shifting in his seat, confusing you a little, he seemed to adjust himself before standing up. He waltzed around his desk and to your side "I'll walk you to your office, i have a meeting in that department soon anyway" He changed the subject, liar.

You nodded, letting yourself out the door, him behind you, walking at the same pace. When you peaked at him, you met his eyes, both of you looking away in a panic at simultaneously being caught staring and catching the other. He again, cursed himself, a quiet string of Spanish curse words filling your ears. You found yourself slowing your steps so that you could walk side by side, he definitely noticed but didn't acknowledge it. Your soft hands brushed against his calloused, scarred ones with every step, you could see him looking bashfully to the side in your peripheral vision.

You reached the office door you knew so well and he stopped, about half a meter away. "Miguel.." You still were not used to that "Can you come in for a sec? It'll be quick"

His brows knitted to form a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes scanning your face for any mischief or lies before nodding "Of course" You opened the door and stepped in, letting him follow.

"Shut the door" You announced, turning to face him, he raised his brows, shutting the door, mouth opening as if ready to speak, angrily."Don't, nothing weird..just wanna..talk?" You stepped in front of him, looking up at him, his tall figure intimidating and deathly, his scent filling your nose.

"Are you asking me a question or stating something?" His voice was inquisitive as he eyed you curiously, his body seeming to lean away from you, defensive. "I-" You grew nervous, his cardinal eyes boring into you, pupils blown and lip slightly snarling. "I?"

You could hear his breathing, he could hear yours, you were so close, you smelt so good, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but he held himself above office relationships, ignoring all his flirty thoughts. Your hand pressed to his chest as you let out a shaky breath, thoughts clouding your head as your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, biting down on your own at the thought of kissing him. He tensed at your touch but couldn't help leaning into it. "You're driving me insane" He muttered, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, the feeling making sparks fly, heart beating so quick you swore it would fly away, you couldn't help but gasp.

"Y/n, You know i can't act on my thoughts about you" He sighed, letting go of your hands but you grabbed his wrists, you knew deep down if he wanted to he could pull away easily. Why was he being so open, why wasn’t he leaving or pushing you away from him with force?

"What thoughts Miguel? Tell me what you want" You pleaded and he shook his head, looking away from you before he lost all composure.

"Mierda..you know i can't chiquita..you're too young for me..I'm your boss, there is so fucking much wrong with just this conversation." He scolded, his voice raspy, accent thick.

"I don't care. Just act, stop hiding yourself from me" You whined slightly, looking up at him with those eyes he fell for. He groaned, removing his hands from your grip, taking your cheeks in his grasp and ducking his head down to smash his lips against yours, fuck was he breaking his morals. He felt so guilty but the feeling of your lips on his felt so good. You didn't have a twinge of guilt, finally feeling the relief you needed, the dim lights of your office the perfect lighting for a kiss.

As his lips molded to yours, your mouth opened, tongues touching in perfect bliss, a low grunt rumbling from him, vibrating against your lips. His hands fell into your hair, keeping you as close as possible as your hands found their way to his shoulders, palms spreading over the blades, not able to reach around his neck. He gently sucked on your bottom lip before pulling back, the kiss being so deep a string a saliva connected the both of you for a split second, his face inches away as he breathed out, although you found yourself breathless.

"Well, your an amazing kisser" You breathed out nervously, hands gripping at the 'fabric' of his suit, his eyes softened and he hummed.

"So are you.." His hand stroked your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin "I can't do this princesa, i won't let myself do this to you" He shook his head, pressing his kiss to yours for a split second before pulling back, removing your hands from his shoulders.

"No Miguel, please, I wan't this, your the only one that doesn't"

"Mi vida..i wan't this, i wan't this bad, so very bad, believe me i do. But I'm dismissive and confusing, I'll hurt you, I know I will" He was so conflicted, like he didn't want to leave, nor was he going to, but he couldn't do anything because something unconsciously told him not to. You frowned, pulling him down to your level by his shoulders, cupping his cheek "I don't care Miguel, you won't hurt me, I won't let you"

"You're young and naive, you don't understand, i wan't to give you everything, it's so hard to resist you, but i'll ruin you, little one" His face was distressed, apart from his soft, swollen lips. The nickname made you suck in a breath and you bit down on your lip before shaking your head "So? ruin me" You teased.

He groaned in anticipation, the noise sounding whinier than before, as if he was losing the battle in his head, you knew you were breaking him down bit by bit. You both held eye contact for a moment as he seemed to think.

"For fucks sake" He growled, hands grasping your waist and pulling you in for another kiss, this time less loving and more needy, the feeling going straight to your core. His fingertips dug into your side, a moan erupting from you at the feeling, already so desperate. He pulled away and hooked his fingers under the hem of your dress "You don't take no for an answer, do you?" He snarled, looking into your eyes with his dark ones. With a smirk and giggle, you shook your head. He removed his fingers from your dress and slipped his hands to the back of your thighs, suddenly lifting you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed you gently into the wall, his hand snaking all over your thigh, gripping at the plush, eyes staring down at your legs that squeezed him in. His eyes seemed to flutter, humming out a quiet moan as he played with you, before looking at you. "You act so innocent, but strut around showing off everything you can..you tease me all the time, do you know how hard it was to not take you right on my desk countless times, fuck just seeing you sit down earlier, it's like your trying to get me to fuck you" He declared, voice patronising.

"I am, everyday" You purred, not able to stop the grin on your face a he looks at you, shaking his head as if telling you off "So deceiving..hope you don't act like that with the others" he tutted.

"Just you, Miggy" You hummed, finally able to reach him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers finding his hair, twirling it around your fingertips. "Good girl" The corner of his lips curved into a small smirk, there it was, the thing that kept you up all night and he was saying it again, this time the exact way you wanted. He averted his view back to your thighs, pushing your dress up to your hips agonizingly slow, fingers dragging over your skin, admiring the lace black panties you wore underneath.

"Fuck..tan jodidamente hermoso" (t: so fucking pretty) His fingers brushed over the material, your breath hitching as he grew closer and closer to where you needed him. "You sure you want this, you can't take it back once its happened mi amor" He looked at you through his lashes and you eagerly nodded, panting lightly. He then pushed your panties to the side, the thin material being no trouble to him as he stared at you, a shaky breath leaving him, his thumb lightly touching your clit. Whining just slightly, you bucked your hips in reaction, so desperate.

He snickered and pulled back his hands, holding you up with just his hips as he pressed some buttons on his watch, his suit literally disappearing, the sight making you gasp. "Tech" He shrugged before leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, fang dragging over your throat, quiet moans filling his ears as he did so. He suddenly lifted one of his hands to our face "Spit into my hand” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his own.

A little confused, you cautiously spat, trying not to make too much noise from just his kisses, his hand fell back down between your legs, he stroked his cock with his now wet hand, dragging his hand up and down until he felt he was ready for you. The sight sinful and something you would think about for weeks. You could feel the vibrations of his noises against your neck as he dragged his tip along your folds, covering himself in your slick, the feeling making you even more needy. He pulled back from your neck, admiring his work before looking down at where your bodies touched, his hand grasping the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole.

"You ready baby?" He asked and you nodded, hands tightening on his hair. He slowly pushed into you, the stretch insane, you could feel him twitch inside, you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and he attached his mouth to yours, hoping to distract you as he fully bottomed out into you. Both of you moaned into the open-mouthed kiss, your fingertips tugged at the short hairs at the base of his neck

He began to slowly pull out of you before fully bottoming out again, hips meeting as he repeated the action, each time, your body bounced against the wall from the contact. The kiss grew sloppy as his movements sped up and you pulled back to dip your head into the crook of his neck, whining out at the amazing feeling of him hitting your g-spot repeatedly with each thrust.

"There? That the spot princesa?" he breathed out, his hand pressing against the wall for stability as the other squeezed your thigh desperately, his cock destroying you in the best way possible. You nodded, muttering out incoherent words into his collarbone, he realized how cockdrunk you were and couldn't help but grow slightly vain, the sound of you babbling and moaning going straight to his dick.

Your hands slid down his shoulders growing limp and landing on his mid back, nails digging into the skin, scratching slightly. "Feels s'good Miguel.." You rambled and he groaned "Yeah? Fuck, you feel fucking amazing baby" He fucked into you, noticing the way your walls began to squeeze him and hips began to rock to meet his.

You felt your orgasm going near, lower stomach tightening as you sputtered out curse words, he made sure to fuck you especially well as he panted out "can i cum inside?" His thrusts getting inconsistent and out of tempo. You nodded quickly "y-yeah, please, want it" You pierced his back with your nails.

Your ankles crossed around his waist, locking his body as close to you as possible and he pushed into you for the final time, his hand reaching to rub at your clit as he spilled his load into you, body shaking as you came at the feeling of it. For a moment you both stay, breathing heavily in silence before he carefully pulls back from you, straightening out your underwear after he was no longer inside you. He placed you on your desk, still between your legs, gingerly pressing a kiss to your neck before stepping back, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

"I know, i know cariño..I'm not leaving" He reassured, pulling your skirt back down to your mid thigh, thumb then brushing over your marked neck. "You fucked up my back, mi corazon" He huffs, turning slightly to show you your damage, you could see the various white above skin cuts covering his back along with a few actual cuts, a small amount of blood decorating his muscles.

"Sorry, Miggy" You smiled, chuckling lightly at yourself. He looked at you, smiling a little "Your laughing? at my pain?"

"Nono!-" "I'm kidding, it felt fucking great doll" He pressed a kiss to your lips, rubbing at your thighs before pressing at his watch and appearing fully suited up again, aside from his face. "Now, im actually behind on work, so I need to catch up, but don't be stranger, you know my apartment number chiquita"

Then he left, disappointed in his lack of composure and self respect for sleeping with someone so young but also unbothered because he was madly in love with you. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

---

I know there is so many spelling mistakes so i deeply apologize, i wrote this quite quick. I'm happy to write a part two if anyone's interested angels ;))

Pet name translations:

Princesa-Princess, Dulzura-Sweetness, Muñeca-doll, Angelito- little angel, Mi Vida - My life, Mi corazon- my heart, Chiquita - little one/girl (duh)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spitefulversefics #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara one shot #spiderman 2099 smut #spider verse

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hypnoneghoul · 3 months

Text

Sundown: Chapter 10

WC: 1K

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Transfeminine Mountain, Implied Dissociation, Hurt/Comfort, Grief

“She was the brightest person I’ve ever known. It’s like…she lit up every room she walked into.”

Playlist here. / Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 10 under the cut or on AO3.

Swiss has never expected to have to think about a day such as this one. He has never expected he would have to go about his day with the knowledge that on this exact day, just a year prior, his baby sister was being murdered to be left for him to find mauled in a puddle of her own blood.

Alas, here he is. Here it is, the first anniversary of Sunshine’s death.

He told Mounty a few weeks ago so she would understand that him distancing himself has nothing to do with her. She understands, but she’s not one to let her lover drown in misery while she watches from a distance. She’ll give him all the space he needs, but the moment she sees he needs her, she’ll be there.

The barmaid wakes up first to Swiss’ head resting on her chest and his arms tight around her waist. She looks down at him as much as possible, and wishes he could always be as peaceful as he is in that moment. Still, he soon wakes up.

Mounty sees in his eyes and expression as he comes to and realizes the date. The hurt flashing across his face jabs her straight into her own heart and she squeezes the man’s arm reassuringly. He doesn’t speak—none of their usual morning sappy giggles ensue—but he looks up at his girl and simply blinks and it’s more than enough for Mounty to know what he means. It’s a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I love you’ and an ‘I need you’ and so much more.

The barmaid nods, whispering as to not disturb the reverent silence too much, “I love you, too.”

Swiss lays his head back on her chest and sighs. It’s not going to be an easy day and it feels like hours before Mounty feels the man shift again.

“Do you want to talk about it? About her?” Mounty proposes, approaching the topic very carefully. “I’d love to hear something, if you’d like to tell me.”

“Yeah, I–I think I do,” Swiss rumbles after thinking about it for a little while, with his voice gravelly from unuse.

Mounty’s soft kiss on his forehead is more than enough of an encouragement, but Swiss realizes he really does want to talk about Sunshine. He never did, after her death, and now it’s been a year. She deserves to be talked about, though, she can’t be forgotten, the memory of her can’t simply fade. The cowboy owes it to her and maybe, just maybe, it’ll help him, too.

He sits up and turns to lean against the wall by the window, so she can look at his girl as he tells her the story.

“Her name was Sunshine,” he starts after clearing his throat, “Sunny for short. And it fit, she was the brightest person I’ve ever known. It’s like…she lit up every room she walked into, ya know?”

Mounty nods, smiling softly.

“She was six years younger than me and she was a…huh, a surprise let’s say. I don’t know about my parents, I doubt my mother wanted to have more children with my failure of a father, but I was over the moon. I wasn’t as happy when no one could sleep for months once she was born, but once she got quieter I was her biggest fan.

Then, uh…our parents sucked so I was mostly taking care of us both. Mom died when Sunny was around five. We were good, but you already know how my father fucked us over and how it all ended.

She was very creative. She liked to sing and always came up with new funny songs and new ways to make noise. Everything was her instrument, even the wind and rustling trees themselves. She was a…a true gem, ya know? There’s not enough people like her in the world.”

Swiss’ breath hitches and he outstretches his hands, desperately needing Mounty’s touch. She puts her own in them and laces their fingers together, silently saying that she’s with him and not going anywhere.

“I never told you that your voice–” his own cracks, “you sound very similar to how she did. You laugh the same.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, sorry. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Mounty finally speaks again, “there was no reason for you to tell me, I don’t mind.”

“Mhm,” Swiss hums in acknowledgement.

It’s quiet for a few minutes before the barmaid admits in a quiet voice, “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“I wish you could’ve,” Swiss agrees, even quieter, and Mounty doesn’t like the far away look in his eyes. Silence falls again as she tries to think of an appropriate thing to say.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” she speaks after a moment, squeezing Swiss’ hands in an attempt to ground him.

“Hm?” the man hums, barely there anymore. There’s tears in his eyes waiting to fall, but his stare is blank. The barmaid hates seeing him floating away further and further away with each passing second. She’s afraid that there’s not much she can do to hold him back.

“Look at the weather,” Mounty points out regardless, having to try. Swiss is slow to oblige, but he does, eventually peeling the curtain away to look out of the window. He doesn’t notice anything particularly special, though. Mounty clarifies, “it’s nearly summer and yet it’s been all gloomy for weeks.”

Swiss furrows his eyebrows. She’s right, but he still can’t grasp the point she’s trying to make.

“It’s sunny today. She’s here, Swiss. She’s here to remind you that no matter how gloomy the world is, there’s always going to be more sunny days. I bet she’d like you to think that every sunny day is her doing, her trying her best to make your day brighter. Dare I say you getting sunburned it’s her teasing you? She didn’t really go anywhere, my darling, she’s still with you. She always will be.”

Life returns to Swiss’ eyes when his tears fall.

Thankfully Mounty is there to wipe them all away.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #swissalps' sundown

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