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strawbeelemonade · 1 year ago

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ROMANTIC IMAGINE: Miguel O'hara visits you when you call in sick

i know how to write things other then headcannons i swear. theyre just so EASY. you can request actual fics lmao. promise! This was intended as romantic btw, but you can interperate this however you want!

WARNING: descripion of wounds/blood, description of burns, overprotectiveness,

Miguel lands on your balcony with a heavy thump, his landing was a little awkward from trying to swing with only one hand, but he managed well enough. The Tupperware in his hand looked a little worse for wear, though.

Almost every fibre of him wanted to turn around and forget about this, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to, he needed to know you were ok.

You had called off sick from work yesterday, and you didn't show up today either. In all the time you were working at Alchemex you’ve never done that before. The secretary had told him you sounded like you were in a lot of pain over the phone, so it was obvious you were unwell in some way or another. He’s been worried ever since.

This felt stupid. Over dramatic, even. But he’d gone to his brother for advice, and this is what he had given him: Their moms classic Pozole recipe, The same recipe him and his brother ate while growing up. Obviously Miguel protested, adamantly. he hadn’t cooked for anyone in a very long time. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to… His brothers response?

“Do you want my help or not?”

So Miguel scrounged around the kitchen for what he needed. He squinted to read his mothers old chicken scratch from all those years ago. He put in the work, as uncomfortable as he felt, And He packaged it and come all the way here.

And now he didn’t know how to go forward.

He had never felt more out of his element in his life. As he Stood outside your window with the soup in his freakish claws he realised he didn’t know where to go from there. He hadn’t thought further than this point. What would he say when he gave it to you? What would he even do after that?

He had to awkwardly shimmy through the window with the Tupperware in one hand, almost stepping on a cable stretching across the floor. “Fuck—“

the hinges creaking offensively as he pushed down your open window and he cursed, shutting it as delicately as possible. When he heard your voice ring out from behind him he tensed.

“Uh, Hey Miguel!” You call from the bathroom. He breathed out the puff of air he was holding in. No turning back now.

“…Hey,” he called, not knowing where to begin. “…I brought you a little something.”

He makes his way to where he heard your voice coming from, and pauses briefly by your kitchen counter. He looks down at the soup in his hands.

…He could just leave it here, that would be less humiliating for everyone, wouldn’t it? He knew you were ok, now. He heard your voice, so you were alive. He did what he came here to do. He could turn around right now and escape while you were still in the bathroom.

But something stops him. A little smell wafted by his nose briefly. It was brief. It was faint. But it was there and it made him pause.

So he sits the soup on the counter quietly, but he doesn’t turn around. He walks further down the hall and takes a deep breathe. The smell is clearer now. Miguel gets a bad feeling.

He picks up the pace and pulls off his mask to get a better whiff, and suddenly he’s hit with the all too familiar stifling stench of blood.

No.

NO!

“Y/n!” He runs up to your bathroom door and starts rattling the handle, but the door is locked. He pauses when he hears your voice on the other side, clearer and more effective at preventing him from tearing the door off its hinges—.

“D-Don’t come in!” You yell. “I’m... ngh- I’m a bit busy in here!”

“Y/n, what do I smell?!” He doesn’t need you to tell him, He already knows the answer. It’s pungency rings clear from his side of the door. The tanginess was so prominent that even someone with normal senses could pick up on it.

“N-nothing!” You stutter. You always stutter when you’re nervous. And when you're lying.

“Are you bleeding? Where’s it coming from? Open up!” He starts banging on the door again, his fist unintentionally rattling the frame.

“You don’t smell anything- stop that!” You snapped, annoyance ringing clear. But there was a certain strain to your voice, a painful whine that made his heart drop. “I-I’m just, uh- changing! will you give me a minute? Please, Miguel.”

“Don’t lie to me! What’s wrong, can you not get to the door?” He starts backing up to gauge the frame of the door and… Yeah, he could kick that in, easily.

sensing what he was getting ready to do, you spring up from your spot hunched over on the side of the bath tub and amble to the bathroom door. “No no no!” You lean against the door, heaving. “Don’t do anything drastic, I’m right here!”

He paused and waited for you to open it, but your hesitation makes him start losing his patience. “Y/n-“

“I’m ok, Miguel. S-seriously. I just took a little tumble on the way home.” You swallow back a painful grunt as you lean on the door frame for more support. “Look…” you started. “Now’s really not a good time—“

“Y/n.”

You shut your mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’

the tone of his voice hid a warning. Miguel knew what you were going to suggest even before you said it, and he refused to let you finish. The fact that you were bleeding as much as you were for him to smell you across the house, And you were trying to hide it from him? It must be bad, there was no doubt about that. His brain began racing for answers, for explanations, for names. He didn’t know where you were hurt, god what if it was somewhere vital? Who did this to you and where? Why were you trying to hide it? Did they threaten you? Something must of happened. there was no way he would leave you here, No. There was no getting rid of him now.

“Open this door.” He says one final time. And you can tell it’s the final time from the tone of his words. His voice quaked with fury at even the mere insinuation that he’d ever leave you when you were wounded. That you were even wounded In the first place.

“Now.”

...

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything. And for a second he thinks he’s going to have to break the door open inwards just to avoid plowing over you to get it open. But then he hears you apprehensively turn the lock and he almost breaks the handle from how fast he rips it open.

You stumble a bit, reeling at his strength. and then youre taking a tumble from being thrown off balance, but before you can even yelp out a cry he swoops in to catch you in his arms before your body can even comes close to hitting the floor. “Lo si—! Sorry! Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

from being so close he could tell immedietely that you were running warm, did you really have a fever too? He perches you on to the toilet seat and you wince at the ache washing through your body. God, your back was killing you... and Miguel's hands were all over you. you tried pulling your arms out of his grip, but he wasn't budging. he scoured your front for bruises, cuts, anything.

"what happened, where does it hurt, Y/N, please." he lifted your arms, checking your sides. nothing there... You couldn't bring yourself to answer, all the jostling around was making you go really dizzy... so much so that his words seemed to bounce off your ears. you squint at him. were there two of him before?

"Oi, mami/papi. focus for me. tell me where your hurt." he pats your cheek, snapping you a little out of your stupor. you blinked. his faced was pulled taught with worry, lines creased his skin in places that looked almost painful. and his eyes...

"Miguel... hhhave... your eyessschanged?" you weren't sure if it was the delirium from the pain finally setting in, or if your bathroom light just highlighted the underlying hues, but his tired brown eyes had shifted to a shade of... dare you say red.

they flicked back to your face, they had this wild look in them, like he was angry. but his voice wobbled like he was scared. "tell me where the pain is."

"... M' back.." you mumbled. he tugs on your shoulder to twist you around, making you whine. he apologizes quietly, before turning back to the red stains that were crawling up the back of your shirt.

you both descended into a tense silence. Miguel looked cramped, hovering over you in your tiny bathroom. he had to draw in his arms to not knock into your shower. not the most ideal place to play nurse... but he would manage. Miguel unshealthes his talons and cuts open the fabric like its warm butter. all you feel is a cold draft hit your back, and you shudder.

when he gets a good look at the state of your back his heart drops, what he finds isn't what he was expecting. your lower back is marred with an explosion like mass of burned skin. the center of the wound is deeper and more bloody then the rest, like something fast, blunt and burning hot struck you there.

God.

"Y/N, what the hell happened?" he glances at your bathroom bin and spots your old, scorched shirt lying inside. so you really were changing... that explained why the shirt you were wearing didn't have a massive gaping hole in it.

"Lyla. whats the aetiology for this." she flickers into view next to him, screening your back, and she winces.

"the lascerations have been caused by 1st and 2nd degree burns, the wound has become infected and needs to be treated immediately. the depth of the wound is telling me that the collision was hard and fast, likely a projectile."

"they were shot?."

"most likely. not by any normal weapon though, obviously." she confirmed, "it... doesn't look like the infection has interfered with the spinal collum." she optimistically added.

"will it scar?" he tilted his head towards her, but didn't take his eyes off the wound.

the Ai assistant didn't respond, calculating the most nerve settling response to his question. her silence told him everything he needed to know. "yeah, don't answer that." a snarl was building in his throat, fighting its way to the top.

he spots the first aid bag and its contents sprawled across your counter. most of it was over the counter painkillers, light ointments and bandaids. nothing in there that would help you.

"ok." he drags his hand down his face looking around the room. "Hijo de puta-!" his fist banged against the wall in a burst of anger, the pathetic thin walls rattled underneath the force. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?!"

you were stuck in this apartment by yourself, barely able to move or, jesus, even think. the fact that he could have never come… No, that he had come but couldve left here without knowing you were going through this on your own... the thought made him sick. why did you let it get this bad? what had happened?

you don't answer his question, your breathing has started to grow heavier, fevered. the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck had grown thicker as well. miguel reaches out to hold you steady. his mind racing. you can't stay here.

he knows he has to make a call. literally. he lifts his watch to his face.

"Jess, get someone on the medical team to prepare for my arrival." he picks you up carefully and fights to keep his voice from rising, he wasn't thinking clearly. all he could think about was getting you somewhere safe.

it wasn't common for miguel to ask for medical assistance, even at times when he probably should. he didn't like calling for help, he prefered to do things on his own, even to his own detriment. the idea that something could shake miguel up like this, making him ask for assistance, was new. Jessica could hear the tension in his throat as clear as day.

"whats your condition." she responded, concern shining through in her voice.

"no, no. i'm fine." he answered. "i've got an injured with me, they've been shot and need first aid immedietely. its a second degree burn that been left for over 24 hours, its infected."

"...done." she answers. "are they a new recruit?"

"they're a friend."

Pozole: a traditional soup or stew that is made from hominy with meat, you can put in things like shredded lettuce/cabbage, chilli peppers, onions, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa or limes. (this sounds scrummy ngl i'm so hungry bro)

"Lo siento": i'm sorry (this is when he goes "Lo si-" but cuts himself off)

"Oi, mami": hey, Mama (i learned that mami or mamita can be used in a lot of different ways. native spanish speakers can use it to adress parentel figures, friends that give motherly energy, or it can even be used as a funny nickname for kids. i've seen a lot of people use it sexually in fics, but apparently thats not always the case!)

aetiology: kind of like a diagnosis, but different. its the cause of a desease or condition. idk if it's applicable to wounds, though.

"Hijo de puta-!": son of a bitch-!

I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating languages let me know! i'd be really interested.

#love is stored in the pozole #across the spiderverse #spider man #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 99 #spiderman99 #into the spider verse #hurt/comfort #gender nuetral reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #angst #fluff #fanfic

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theemporium · 6 months ago

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[1.7k] travelling can be stressful, but it's a little easier when your swiss grizzly bear boyfriend is by your side.

It was stupid.

You were fully aware it’s stupid. People liked to remind you how stupid they found it. It was something so, so stupid and being so painfully aware just made it worse. Because logic didn’t work, despite what countless people tried to tell you. Their reassurances and rationality didn’t help the way your brain spiralled until it could latch on to every single possible thing that could go wrong.

And you knew, nine times out of ten, nothing would happen. In fact, you could count on one hand the times your spirals had played out and became a reality. But that didn’t stop you having the spirals, and it didn’t stop the way your brain processed everything.

Unfortunately, even your own common sense lacked in the battle between your brain and the anxiety travelling brought you.

It was something you were mostly mocked for and, truthfully, you could understand their perspectives. It did sound silly when you tried to explain to your coworker the fact you couldn’t sleep the night before a journey, even if you had done it a million times before. It did sound dramatic when you tried to explain the fear a new destination brought you, regardless of how much research you did. But they didn’t get it, they don’t understand that voice in the back of your head whispering away.

What if this is the one time something goes wrong? What if there is an accident? What if something gets cancelled? What if the traffic is worse than usual and you’re late?

Random but burdening questions rattled in your head on the days coming up to a big trip. It’s why you hated booking them in the first place, because you knew exactly how you would react. And you told yourself it would be different, that you wouldn’t be so dramatic this time, that you could handle it.

And, without fail, you would find yourself sick to your stomach the morning of the trip, unable to stomach anything beyond a piece of toast (if you were lucky).

“Do you think you would know if I was replaced by an alien?”

You blinked, taking a few moments to process the question before you turned to find Nico already looking at you, a contemplative look on his face.

“What?”

“Like, I’m sure you would notice but how long do you think it would take you to figure it out?” He questioned, his hand resting on your knee and lightly squeezing as he spoke.

You stared at him for a few moments, trying to wrap your head around his question before you let out a breathless laugh. “What are you going on about?”

“You looked lost in your thoughts,” he said, keeping his voice low so he couldn’t be heard above the music the taxi driver was playing through the radio. “I can see inside that pretty head of yours. You were spiralling.”

Your cheeks flushed in response. “I’m sorry—”

But Nico cut you off with another squeeze to your knee and a kind smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologise for it,” he reassured you. “I just wanted to help.”

Something in your chest tightened at his words.

“For the record,” he continued, saving you once again when he could see emotions overwhelming your ability to speak. “I think it would take me five minutes tops if you got replaced by an alien.”

You snorted. “What? Five minutes? There’s no way.”

“I know you, schatz,” Nico shrugged in response. “I would be able to tell.”

“Aliens could have crazy technology far too advanced for humans to comprehend,” you argued back and, for the first time since you went to bed last night, your brain was thinking about something other than long security lines, overpriced airport snacks and cancelled flights. “I could have been replaced by an alien months ago and you wouldn’t have realised.”

“I would know,” Nico said, sounding far too sure of himself as he flashed you a smile. “I doubt aliens would know that you make a little sound whenever I–”

“Nico!” You hissed, your eyes widening as you glanced at the taxi driver with worry.

And the fucker had the audacity to giggle in response as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tugging you against his side as much as your seatbelt would allow.

“I was just going to say when I tickle you,” he said with a shameless grin. “I don’t know what dirty thoughts are in your head, schatz.”

You huffed, nuzzling further into his side. “You’re evil.”

“And you love me anyways.”

You rolled your eyes, but Nico knew from the smile on your face that he was right.

You knew exactly what he was doing and, truthfully, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to call him out on it. Because it was working. Because he was Nico and he would deny it but he wouldn’t stop, even if you did call him out. Because there was a warm feeling in your stomach at the idea that someone—that Nico—cared enough to go out of his way to make you more comfortable.

Because he was Nico Hischier and he was just the kind of guy that went out of his way to make his loved ones more relaxed, to take on that captain role beyond the ice.

You barely got a chance to climb out of the taxi before Nico was already reaching for the bags in the boot of the car, pulling them out and only giving you the lightest ones he couldn’t physically carry whilst also holding your hand. You didn’t bother to hide your smile.

It was a feeling you didn’t have with many people. Or at all, usually. Especially when you were travelling. Your brain was working on overdrive, your eyes constantly looking around like some unexpected variable was going to throw your plans off. You couldn’t physically stop how wired and on edge travelling made you.

But something about travelling with Nico made it easy to just let your brain switch off.

You were far too focused on ogling the way he casually carried more bags than one person should, carrying them with such ease that made your head spin a little. Far too focused on the way he guided you through the bustling airport, so sure of himself and so in control as he led you towards the front desk where you could check your luggage in and grab your boarding passes.

You didn’t even get a chance to reach for your hand luggage before Nico took the smaller suitcase in his hand, his other hand on the small of your back as he led you towards security with no sight of the panicked rushing that you were used to.

“Do you think aliens could make it past airport security?”

You snorted. “Do not start this again.”

Nico’s smile widened in response.

Security passed as quickly as one would expect for such a busy airport (meaning not very fast at all) but it was easy to not think too long about it when Nico was chatting your ear off with a million different topics. The possibility of missing your flight (despite being over three hours early) didn’t cross your mind as Nico scrolled through the endless TikToks Jack had sent him, or pictures Jonas had sent, already back home in Switzerland earlier than Nico.

“Here,” Nico called out to get your attention.

You turned around, finding him reaching into his backpack before pulling out a bundle of fabric. You raised your brows in questioning but took it from him without second thought. It took you a few moments before you realised it was one of his hoodies.

“You brought two hoodies?” You questioned.

“No, one is for you,” he answered like it was obvious. “It’s your favourite one, too. I made sure not to pack it away in the big case.”

Your face softened in seconds. “Nico.”

“None of that,” he murmured as he stepped forward, taking your face in his hands as his thumbs lightly skimmed along the apples of your cheeks. “I want my girl to be as comfortable as possible, okay? So, you’re gonna put that hoodie on, we are gonna get some food in you and then we can relax by the gate. I have card games and playlists and your kindle in my bag too, because you almost forgot to pack it last night. I made sure it was charged too.”

Your eyes welled up with tears before you could stop yourself. “I love you.”

He beamed in response. “I love you too,” he answered before leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your lips. “And I cannot wait to kick your ass at the new card game Timo taught me on the way back from LA.”

“Oh?” You raised your brows. “You’re so sure you’ll win?”

“I always win,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you again before he pulled away. “I won you, didn’t I?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re so cheesy today.”

“You’re going to be stuck on a plane with me for the next few hours, better get used to it.”

“I should have taken Jack up on his offer to go to the lakehouse instead,” you grumbled, but there was unwritten relief on your face as you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning against him as he squeezed you closer.

“You’ll love Switzerland far more than you would have liked Michigan,” Nico assures you, lips brushing against the top of your head. “The food is better. And so are the views. And it has something Michigan doesn’t have.”

Your curiosity peaked. “Hm?”

Nico’s head shifted down a bit, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped until it was a whisper only you could hear. “A cabin I booked away for the week, just for me and you. No city, no people. Just us, a lake and so many surfaces I can’t wait to fuck you on.”

Your cheeks burned as you pulled back, glaring at his smug expression. “Nico!”

“What?” He looked giddy, dimples popping and making your stomach twist in desire. “I saw those little dresses you packed, baby. Don’t think I won’t be taking full advantage of it.”

“You’re a menace.”

“And this menace loves to make you come,” he retorted, quickly leaning down to kiss you again before you could reply. “Now, c’mon. We have plenty of time to kill and I even downloaded some movies Nina recommended. Everything is going to be fine, baby.”

And you were just so inclined to believe him.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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hanglimi · 3 months ago

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fireworks - yu jimin

y/n finally got to make jimin do what she wanted, and it ended in a night that the both of them would never forget.

this is a part two of this fic!

TAGS - jimin x f! reader, fluff, slight angst, college au

WORDCOUNT - 2500~

WARNINGS - swearing, suggestiveness, THE amusement park date,

A/N - heyyyy guys, i'm sorry i was gone for like a month and a half. will i ever be consistent? no! but atleast enjoy this fic!

“go on a date with me.”

you know you didn’t phrase it like a question–if you had even wanted to in the first place. it was more of a demand, and considering the fact that the girl in front of you had practically offered herself up to you, of course you weren't going to ask nicely and give her the opportunity to decline.

“that’s all?” jimin wondered aloud, her tone made it feel like she was making fun of your request.

you raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out towards her own, holding it briefly–as if to enunciate your feelings.

“if you want it so bad i could ask for much, much worse.”

she flushed red at the words and quickly backed away from you, shaking her hand violently before hitting the wall behind her with the force of her unknown feelings.

“i lied!” she sputtered, hot on her feet, quick to take the elevator down to her level.

“i’m perfectly fine with just a date!” she yelled down the hall as she entered the metal box, not noticing the multitude of heads that turned to observe her odd behaviour.

“she didn’t give me her number,” you mumbled, shutting the door as you laughed to yourself due to her idiocy.

“i’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” aeri said, her eyes overlooking the school’s campus, deep in thought.

“you’re going on a date.” there was a pause, then a slight laugh, “with y/n? the girl who goes for anything that moves?”

“it wasn’t really an option, aeri, more of an order.” jimin’s head was on minjeong’s lap, enjoying the security and comfort it was giving her in this time of need.

“and of course you followed because you like being ordered around,” ningning giggled, teasing her friend.

“yeah, jimin.” minjeong agreed, shaking her head. “you know you could’ve easily disagreed with her offer, right?”

“you guys don’t understand because you weren’t there standing in front of her. it was her tone of voice–the way she was looking at me, i felt like i was drowning in a sea of y/n-”

“that's enough.” ning drawled and rolled her eyes, “i don’t want to hear about your sexual fantasies.”

“it’s not sexual!” jimin stressed, getting up from minjeong’s lap with speed, smacking the poor girl in the face with her hair. “it’s just a crush. a school crush, to be exact.”

“and you guys have already progressed so far in the five minutes of seeing each other to be going on a date.” minjeong said, rubbing her cheek softly with a pout on her face in pain.

“who knew jimin had more game than me,” aeri sighed, looking up at the sky and wiping an invisible tear from her eye. she stood up suddenly, clasping her hands together to create an abrupt sound.

“so?” the group looked on at her in collective confused silence.

“when is the date? we have to prepare you for this.” aeri paced around the group, staring jimin down.

“oh my god, i forgot to get her fucking number,” jimin groans in realisation, her palms pressing into her face as she let her head fall back down into the shorter girl’s lap. this time, minjeong pushed her away, not wanting a repeat of several seconds ago.

“well then go get it, dumbass”

you let out a deep sigh as you stretched, raising your arms over your head, hearing a couple cracks release in your body as the morning sun rays forcefully entered your room through one of the closed curtains.

it was one of those rare days– the days where you weren’t scrambling to throw a party later in the evening. the days where you realised just how lonely you actually were when people weren’t drinking or smoking pot in your room. it’s not something you were particularly proud of, but either way, it was the only way you had succeeded in making lasting friends. even though half the things you and your friend group talked about with red eyes and running noses wouldn’t be remembered the following days.

but thinking too hard about it was making your heart beat weirdly, and your lungs take in smaller amounts of air, so you ignored the thoughts and rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to your couch to catch up with your morning doom scrolling.

ten minutes in, and you were somewhat interrupted by a knock at the door, one which started off timidly but gained in volume the longer they knocked.

“whoever’s there, there's no party today!” you yelled, hoping the message got across.

after a pause, the knock sounded again, as loud as the other one ended, and you grumbled as you got up to go open it and tell the person off.

an unexpected face appeared in front of you, and you couldn't help but let out a wide smile. you could feel her eyes raking your body up and down, and while you did like a little bit of appreciation, you didn’t like how your skin started to heat up at her gaze, so you stopped her drooling short.

“what a nice gift for me at 1 in the afternoon.” you said, jimin standing in front of you, her phone held tightly in her grasp.

she slightly untensed at your words, and cocked her head. “you look like you just woke up, but it's literally 1pm.”

“a girl does what a girl needs to do” you shrug in response.

she shakes her head, and instead hands you her phone, open to a new contact page.

“a woman with such little words, but such big actions.” you giggle, grabbing her phone, entering in your contact information. “i can get behind that.”

you hand her phone back and she just stands there, looking anywhere but your eyes.

you raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to leave you to your devices.

“so, what’s your favourite first date spot? food-”

“oh don’t worry baby, i’ll be planning the date. just sit tight as i figure things out.”

you regret all your choices as you frantically search up on google “first date ideas.”

it’s not that you’d never gone on a date before. (you had only been on one, and honestly, it didn’t really count because the girl had to leave early anyways.) it's just that you had never gone on a date with a girl you liked this much.

jimin was an enigma to your brain–like fitting a square piece into a circle hole. she turned your heart inside and out, twisting and wringing it dry, and it’d last you through the whole day. the small amount of interactions you’ve had until this point have kept an eternal smile on your face as you create scenarios in your mind before sleeping. it’s never been like this before, and it’s definitely stressing, and scaring you.

the flirty facade you’d been using on her can only last so long. and you just know it’d run out by the time you're on this date.

“not what I was expecting when you said you’d plan it all out.” jimin marvelled at the amusement park in front of her eyes, twisting and turning rails high up in the sky.

“is it not to your liking?” while the way you said it had a teasing tone to it, you genuinely felt insecure as she looked around, viewing the experience.

“you know that's not what i meant.” she said, turning towards you, and gazing at your outfit. you were simply wearing a pink shirt and shorts (quite short shorts, but shorts all the same), but the way she was eating you up made you feel as though you had shown up naked.

you simply pushed her limp body towards the ticket line. one; to advance to the actual fun part of the date, and two; to get her damn eyes off of you.

the night was young, and you could tell jimin was excited by the way she was pulling your hand towards each of the activities, the smile on her face never fading. the joy she was exuding was enough to make your night as you simply watched her like a puppy observing its owner having fun.

she looked back towards you as she ran ahead, her smile so wide it made your own lips curve up. the wind was hitting her face, making her hair flow in the same direction–all that made her look even more beautiful in your eyes. the tight feeling in your chest hadn’t gone away all night, and it wasn’t something you were used to. it was annoying you, because every time you got near the girl, your brain short circuited, your breathing close behind. this wasn’t like you, but you couldn’t say that you minded that much.

“let’s play this one y/n!” the girl screamed ahead of you, using both her hands and jumping up and down to wave you towards her. you let out a breath of happiness, and increased your pace, ignoring the tug of your heartstrings.

“this one?” you coughed, analysing the game. It was one of those ones that were bound to scam you out of your money. completely impossible, but you don’t think that’s why jimin was so eager to play it.

the aim of the game was that one person had to wear a blindfold, holding the water gun up to the target’s level. the other player was to stand behind them, listing directions for the shooter to listen to and follow. this wasn’t the complicated part of the game–the game in itself wasn’t complicated at all honestly, just rigged. the part that got jimin so excited, so bouncy and giggly, was where the player who was directing the shooter had to wrap their arms around the other’s waist. (they definitely didn’t have to, and jimin only told you the truth after finishing the game.)

jimin was standing very close behind you. you could feel her hot breath on your neck, the hairs all over your body rising at the feeling. the clerk at the game stood there, an eyebrow raised at the your positions, but started the game anyway.

miss after miss, swear after swear, and you had ended the game with 2 points. a high score and the only score for the both of you. the ghost of her hands were still around your waist as the clerk signalled the game ending. you laughed at a comment jimin had made as you pulled the blindfold off of your face, shaking your head to properly get your hair out of your face. she stopped talking and looked at you for a quick second, before looking away and pulling you towards another game, thanking the man that stood behind the counter.

the two of you didn’t notice the clerk’s slight smile as he looked at the both of you, giggling and running away from his stand.

“young love,” he muttered into the night.

"no ferris wheel?” jimin asked you as you urgently pulled her along with you. she had dragged you to way too many stupid rides and games. well, they weren’t stupid, they were actually fun, but the whole reason you planned the date here was going to happen soon, and you had no time to waste anymore

“too boring,” you said, glancing back at her. “and i may just be deathly afraid of heights.” she laughed heartily, and you couldn’t help but grin widely at that.

you finally reached your final destination, which was an area of flat grass, where hundreds of other people sat, preparing for the show. you led her far off from any other people, and helped her sit down on the ground before lowering yourself too.

“so what did you bring me here for?” she asked, a questioning look in her eyes. she had hope in you–after all, today was the most fun she had had in days considering the amount she was studying beforehand. the grudge jimin held inside from you blasting music all day long was practically long gone. it was barely a thought she even remembered after spending this night with you.

“you trust me, right?” you stared at her in the eyes, holding her cheeks in your hands. she felt them warm up at the contact and nodded her head. “then just wait and see.”

so the two of you waited, and waited for what felt like eternity–which you wouldn’t have minded spending with jimin by your side–before you could hear people shouting in glee. you pointed upwards, redirecting jimin’s gaze to the sky, just as the first firework popped.

honestly, you think you watched the girl’s face more than the actual firework show, but the way her face lit up at each one gave you much more joy than any emotion gunpowder exploding could evoke in your body. she turned to you after a bit, and you swore you saw tears in her eyes before she hit your shoulder lightly and told you to watch the fireworks too. you listened to her for about 5 seconds, before turning to her again, capturing her face and drawing it pore for pore, line for line in your mind. that’s something that no matter how high or drunk you got, you would never forget.

the two of you had large grins on your faces as you walked out the amusement park exit, hands ghosting on top of the other.

“thanks for, you know,” you stand there and don't extrapolate, rubbing the back of your head in shyly. for the first time, you weren’t able to look into Jimin's eyes. there was something about the girl–something that was making the person you’ve hid inside for so long come back again.

“why are you thanking me?” jimin said, perplexed, and she didn’t like how she was staring at the side of your face, not at all.

“just for, like, actually coming out with me tonight.” you let out with a suspicious tightness in your chest, the intensity of her eyes was too much for you at this moment. “it was a great hangout-”

“hangout?” she cut you off, a frown forming on her face. “the deal was a date. i came out here with the mindset that this was a date.”

“well, it could totally be a date!” you waved your hands in front of her, eyes wide as saucers–your entire demeanour screamed asking for forgiveness. “i just didn’t think you’d want it to be one. considering this wasn’t really done out of your will,” you mumbled, finally facing your body to look at her.

“i could’ve easily declined your request, y/n.” she stepped closer to you.

“i did this out of my own free will, y/n. i did it because I actually like you.”

you froze at the comment, and the heat that was spreading all over your body decided to come up to your face, causing your cheeks to flush and a smile to break through your tight lipped mouth.

“i’m glad,” you whispered in her ear, pulling her towards you until she was flush against your frame. the square piece that wasn’t fitting before had finally forced its way into the round hole–and you couldn’t have been any happier.

“because i definitely like you too.” you finished, and you swore that that night, another firework–not included in the show–had blown up in your heart.

A/N - why did i write this like one of them was going to die 😭😭

#hanglimi #kpop gg #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #karina imagines #aespa imagines

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mistiell · 1 year ago

Text

When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

---

Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 4 months ago

Note

enemies to lovers w/ spencer reid plzz 💗

.⋆｡Whispers in the Dark｡⋆.

Spencer Reid x plus size reader

You and Spencer have been at each other’s throats for months and the team is sick of it. So while on a case in a conveniently tiny town, they do something to fix it

Warnings: usual cm warnings (kidnapping, murder, serial killer), enemies to lovers, one bed trope (i’m not sorry), confessions, little bit of partial nudity, Spencer and reader are horny for each other and neither know how to deal with it, implied smut WC: 2.4k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

If there was one thing that was a guarantee in this life, it was the DOCTOR (as he always liked to remind you) Spencer Reid would not keep his fucking mouth shut. You used to think it was endearing the way he so passionately spoke about anything and everything but after the 30th time he interrupted you (in front of every mind you), it got annoying real fast. And somehow, it was even worse today.

A series of kidnappings occurring in a small town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that exactly replicated the town’s urban legend about a vengeful spirit killing those who tried to leave without offering sacrifice. Given your extensive knowledge on the development of folklore specifically tied to serial killers, it was an unspoken agreement that you would be taking the lead on the case.

But Reid had a very different idea.

“This is obviously someone using the story to get rid of people they have a vendetta against.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the young doctor. His lean body blocked the column of victim photos as he pointed to the map of the town beside it. He had drawn over several places with a red marker and although the abduction sites did fall into his contracted triangle of a comfort zone, something in your gut told you it was more than that.

“Look, I’m going to keep saying it. This goes way deeper. This has been happening for generations. 2002, 1985, 1968, hell even all the way back to the fucking 1820s! It’s either all 17 year olds getting killed or 17 people killed total each year it occurs, with it switching each time.” Spencer made a sound that was almost a scoff but with Hotch’s steely gaze fixed on the both of you, he covered it up by clearing his throat.

“Mark Adin was 18.”

“He turned 18 the day he died, Reid! And if you looked at his birth certificate, you’d see that his time of death was an hour before he would actually turn 18.”

“If you would just-“

“Alright!” Derek placed a firm hand onto Spencer’s shoulder, making him stumble slightly. “We get it, you’re both freakishly smart but I think it’s late and we all need some sleep.” He shot you a look as you crossed your arms over your chest, red hot anger and frustration still bubbling up inside you.

It always ended like that, one of the other members of your team stepped in before insults could be hurled (it’s happened once or twice before) and suggested a break while you and Spencer continued to glare at each other. He continuously undermined your theories and in return, you questioned his intelligence.

“I’m sure Y/L/N will realise how ridiculous she’s being after some undeserved rest. I mean, when is she ever right.” Your stomach dropped and Derek’s smile dimmed for a second before he wound an arm around the young doctor’s shoulders and guided him out of the conference room the team had commandeered far quicker than he normally did.

You opened your mouth to shout something back at him but Emily grabbed your forearm before you could. “It’s not worth it.” You met her gaze and quickly deflated.

“Yeah okay.” She gave you a soft smile as you both left the room together, missing the weighty glance Hotch and Rossi shared.

——————

“I can’t believe that you and JJ are doing this to me,” you whined, hiking up the strap of your go-bag higher on your shoulder, “you promised last time that we had to share rooms that it would be you and me. I don’t want to get stuck with Hotch again, he snores like a fucking freight train.” Emily poked your ribs as she passed by, shooting you a mischievous grin.

“You were too busy flirting with Reid to notice us making sleeping arrangements.” You huffed and followed her out of the elevator.

“I wasn’t FlIrTinG with him and by the way, that’s disgusting you even thought of that.” The hallway was dead silent save for the faint buzz of the ice machine at the very end.

“Yeah, that’s definitely why you totally weren’t checking out his ass while he was setting up the white board.”

“Emily!” You hissed but she only laughed in response.

“Come on, it’s so obvious that you like him! This childish rivalry you have is just sexual tension so for all of our sakes can you please just fuck him already so we can actually do our jobs.”

“Alright maybe I would like him if he wasn’t such an ass to me all the time.” You conceded, earning you a sly grin from your friend as you both came to a stop outside your hotel room door. “But! He constantly undermines me and makes me feel like shit so it’s never gonna happen.”

Emily stood by her own door, her key-card already in hand. “And you love to rile him up. So, never say never.” And with that, she slipped into her room, shutting the door before you could retort.

You rolled your eyes as you unlocked your own door and stepped in. The shower was already running but what mainly concerned you was the lack of a second bed. You sighed heavily, dropping your bag on the empty side away from the door. You were too exhausted and frustrated to even be mad about having to share both a room and a bed with your boss. Too exhausted in fact to notice the sweater on the chair in the corner couldn’t have possibly belonged to the older man.

Quickly, you stripped down to your underwear and slipped on your sleep clothes, figuring you could wake up early and shower before heading back to the police station. You sighed as you crawled beneath the sheets, the worn mattress immediately cradling your soft body.

Your eyelids had just begun to flutter shut when the water turned off. You turned onto your other side in anticipation of the bright light from the bathroom fully waking you up but what you didn’t expect was the accompaniment of the one voice you hadn’t wanted to hear until you had at least 6 hours of sleep and a massive coffee.

“What the hell?”

“Fuck me.” You sat up and took in the sight of a very damp Spencer Reid wearing only a towel around his waist. You refused to look down at his naked torso (no matter how badly you wanted to).

“You’re not Morgan.” He retorted.

“And here I was thinking you were a genius. Do you usually walk around half-naked with Derek?” He didn’t dignify you with a response this time, only grabbing his bag and retreating to the bathroom once more. As soon as the door shut, you launched yourself at your phone.

<I’m going to fucking kill you

>We’ve all packed noise cancelling headphones so don’t hold back ;)

>BTW before you even ask, there’s no more rooms available. Small towns are just great aren’t they

<I’ll get you back for this

>Sweet dreams

You could scream as you shut off your phone, Emily’s texts disappearing, leaving you staring at your reflection on the black screen. You should’ve known something was up when Hotch insisted that everyone take separate SUVs to the hotel under the guise of everyone splitting up first thing in the morning. The man was a fucking menace.

The mattress groaned as you laid back down, far closer to the edge this time. If Spencer took your hint and just left you alone for the rest of the night, you would consider it an overwhelming success. This time when the door opened, the light was already off, letting you breathe a sigh of relief.

The bed dipped and your body tensed for a moment. You waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, you finally relaxed. In the silence and darkness of the room, you could pretend that you were anywhere else.

“Will you stop hogging the blankets?” You knew this peace couldn’t have possibly lasted.

“If you had turned on the heater I wouldn’t have to.” You grumbled but still released your hold on the covers just enough for him to take some more of it.

“Not my fault you’re always freezing for no reason.” The blanket lifted from your leg as Spencer fully wrapped himself up. You sighed but decided not to pick a fight, Emily’s words still circling your mind. Instead you wrapped your arms around your stomach as you drew your legs up, curling around yourself. You just wanted to sleep.

“What, no witty comeback?” You sighed heavily and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I get that I don’t ‘deserve to rest’ but I’m exhausted Spencer. Neither of us want to be here so can we just try to get some sleep and leave each other alone.” Thankfully, he stayed silent, for a moment at least.

“You called me Spencer.”

“Oh my god, can you please just let me sleep? Yes I called you Spencer, it’s your name isn’t it?” You snapped although you knew what he meant. You had never even referred to him by his first name in the almost 18 months since you had been on the team, just the same as he did with you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fine.” You pressed your face into the thin pillow beneath your head, determined to finally fall asleep.

“No, Y/N I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have said to you.” The bedsprings screamed in the quiet of the room and suddenly you could feel the gentle brush of Spencer’s breath along the back of your neck. You suppressed a shiver as best you could. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Why are you bringing this up now? Are you trying to get laid or something?” Your tone held no bite but you could still feel the way he flinched. A sour taste bloomed in your mouth. “Sorry. For what it’s worth, I’ve been an asshole to you too.”

Tentatively, you rolled onto your back, your shoulder now brushing his. Soft light bled into the room from the light in the hallway, dimly letting you see his silhouette. Already, Spencer’s hair was a mess, different strands sticking up or to his face. His right hand rested on his chest while the left was by his side, barely a fraction of an inch from touching your own. He turned his head, making eye-contact with you for probably the first time since you had known him.

“Why— What did I do to make you hate me so much?” You muttered, suddenly unable to speak any louder than a whisper. You watched his chest hitch and then deflate.

“You didn’t do anything. I guess— it was easier to hate you than admit the truth.” The warmth of his skin made you breathe a sigh of relief as he pressed his hand to yours.

“And what is the truth Spencer?” Even in the limited light, you could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips. His lithe fingers curled around your wrist and gently lifted your hands so that it rested between your heads.

“That when I’m around you, I can’t concentrate on anything besides how beautiful you are, how intelligent, how capable. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since the moment we met and it’s angered me.” You didn’t realise how close you were to him until the tip of his nose bumped against yours. You sucked in a breath but it did nothing to ease the floating feeling in your stomach.

“Why’s that?” You were both now on your sides in the middle of the bed, on the edge of something more, if only one of you would fall first.

“Because I knew that the second I accepted it, there was nothing I could do to stop myself from falling for you, even if you would never feel the same.”

You smirked. “And here I was thinking you were the smartest man alive, Dr Reid.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles with a smile and before you could tell him that he was wrong and quite frankly dumb for not seeing through you (like everyone else on the team did), his hand was on your jaw and his lips on yours.

You moaned into his mouth when he leaned onto you. You grabbed at his back under his shirt, your nails digging into the surprisingly well-defined muscles along his spine. Spencer’s head tilted, encouraging the kiss to become more passionate as his tongue traced your bottom lip. You tangled your fingers in his messy hair, tugging at it slightly as your mind began to go fuzzy with the lack of oxygen.

Spencer smiled against your lips, placing two or three more soft kisses against them before rolling onto his back once more, leaving you breathless beside him. You followed him down, putting your head on his pillow. You stole another peck from him as he clutched at your wide hips.

“I can’t believe how long it’s taken us to finally talk this out. We were both being really stupid.” You giggled against his now swollen lips.

“Yeah we have.” Something tugged at your mind, breaking you away from the warm bubble of affection you were lost in.

You shot up. “What, what is it? Did I do something wrong?” Spencer practically pleaded, his hand tightly gripping at your thigh.

“You’re right, we were both being stupid! We’re both correct. What if it’s not just one unsub, but a whole family of them? 17 years between killings, Spencer!” Now it was his turn to sit up, his brown eyes wide with realisation.

“It’s a coming of age ritual. The unsub is killing people they know but under the guidance of the person that did it before them.”

“So the place where they’re keeping the victims before they kill them should be in the comfort zone and it should line up with all the past ones!” He beamed at you. “But maybe we should wait till morning to tell the others, they do need their beauty sleep.”

“And we don’t?” His hand moved higher, slipping beneath your sleep shorts, making you shudder.

“Definitely not.” You swung your leg over his hips and sat on his thighs, kissing him once more.

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ageingfangirl2 · 25 days ago

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A Hell Of A Promotion - Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano (Tokyo Revengers)

When you bump into the big boss, his attitude annoys you. Until he offers you a promotion, you can't turn it down. What exactly did you sign up for? Manjiro 'Mikey' Sano x Female Reader (SMUT) Bonten timeline.

*SMUT, Fingering, Oral, Blow Jobs, Degrading Names, Office Sex*

Word Count: 4603

It had been a long day and it was only 1 pm. You were walking down the sidewalk not looking where you were going, annoyed that your lunch break had been cut short. When you didn’t notice the dislodged slab until it was too late and you tripped. The coffee in your hand flies out in front of you, and your eyes widen in shock as it spills down the suit of the man directly in front of you.

This wasn’t any ordinary man, no, you recognised the white hair and menacing black eyes anywhere.

‘What. The. Fuck!,’ he growls, his voice deep.

You had just spilt coffee on the dangerous boss of Bonten Manjiro Sano.

‘I’m…so…sorry…’ you stutter, knowing your fate was sealed.

He looks at you with a glare that could cut through steel. His eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance, from your now dishevelled hair to your slightly coffee-stained blouse. He steps closer, invading your personal space as he towers over you.

‘You clumsy little fool. Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? It's worth more than anything you own, I bet. And now its ruined because of your carelessness,’ he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him, ‘what are you going to do about it, hmmm?’

His grip tightens slightly as he waits for your response, clearly expecting more than a simple apology. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes, a predatory gleam that sends shivers down your spine, even as your heart pounds in your chest.

‘Err let me get it cleaned for you,’ you offer, voice shaking.

He scoffs, releasing your chin and steps back. His haze rakes over you dismissively, ‘cleaned? Are you kidding me? This suit is beyond repair. The stain is too deep and the fabric is delicate. No amount of ‘cleaning’ will fix it.’

He reaches into his suit pocket and the breath catches in your throat thinking he’d pull out a gun and shoot you, but instead, he pulls out a business card and extends it towards you with a knowing smirk.

‘Here. Take this. It’s the number of my tailor. But don’t expect any favours, you owe me big for this.’

Mikey turns on his heel. Over his shoulder he adds, ‘And maybe next time, watch where you’re going before you ruin someone else's day.’

‘You don’t have to be such a jerk,’ you mutter.

He stops abruptly, whirling around to face you once more. His expression darkens as he stalks towards you, all the colour leaving your face realising you’d fucked up royally. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he speaks in a low menacing growl.

‘A jerk? Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. I’ve been called worse things than that,’ his hand shoots out, gripping your wrist tightly as he yanks you flush against his body. You can feel the hard planes of his muscles through his shirt, the heat radiating off him in waves when you expect him to be cold.

‘But let me tell you something. When someone spills their drink on me, they damn well better show some respect. And right now, you’re not nearly showing me enough.’

You can’t help but look away from his intense eyes, not aware of your thighs clenching involuntarily. But Mikey notices your reaction and smirks wider, pleased by your obvious attraction despite your attitude.

‘Looks like someone is enjoying the view,’ he chuckles darkly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine, ‘well go ahead and indulge. I won’t judge…much…’

He leans in again, his warm breath ghosting your ear as he murmurs, ‘In fact, why don’t we take this somewhere more private? My office isn’t too far away, we can discuss repayment options for my suit…and perhaps explore other ways you could make amends.’

He tilts his head to the side waiting for a response. You usually weren’t this daring, but the air crackles with tension, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

You bite your lip, ‘I know where the office is, do you not bother to learn the faces and names of those beneath you? I’m the secretary at the main desk.’

He raises an eyebrow. A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face as understanding dawns, ‘The secretary, huh? Well, well, well. How delightfully...convenient.’

He takes a step closer, backing you up against the nearest wall. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, caging you in as he looms over you.

‘I must admit, I hadn't pegged you for the type to play hard to get. But I suppose that's part of your charm,’ his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, ‘Tell me, little secretary...are you going to make me work extra hard to get what I want from you? Or will you give in easily, like the good little toy you seem to be?’

You shuffle nervously on the spot, knowing there is no way out of your current situation other than to comply, ‘I guess I did ruin your suit, and technically you are my boss and I do like my job…’

His eyes light up with a predatory gleam at your words, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs in a low, seductive tone, ‘Is that so? Well then, I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement,’ One hand slides down your side, coming to rest on your hip possessively, ‘You'll help me out of this predicament...and I'll ensure your position remains secure. Everyone wins.’

He nips at your earlobe teasingly before pulling back slightly, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that steals your breath, ‘So what do you say, my dear secretary? Ready to seal the deal?’

You nod your head and utter a single word, ‘Yes.’

A triumphant grin splits his face as he hears your agreement. Without wasting another second, he grabs your hand and starts leading you swiftly down the street towards the towering skyscraper housing his company headquarters.

‘Excellent choice. You won't regret it, I promise.’ His voice drips with sensual promise as he guides you inside the lobby and towards the elevator bank. Once the doors slide closed behind you, trapping you alone together in the small space, he pins you against the wall with his body, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek while the other grips your hip firmly.

‘Now then, where were we? Ah yes...discussing terms,’ He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more. As the elevator pings its arrival at the top floor, he breaks away with a smirk.

You pout, ‘how have you not noticed me? My desk is the first thing you see when you walk out of the elevator.’

Mikey chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he holds you close, ‘Perhaps I've been too focused on running the empire to pay attention to every little detail...like the woman who's been sitting right under my nose all along.’

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand trailing down to weave into your hair as he gazes into your eyes with a newfound appreciation, ‘But now that I have, I intend to make the most of it.’

The elevator doors open, revealing the sleek, modern interior of his office. With a final squeeze, Kenny releases you and steps back, gesturing grandly for you to precede him inside, ‘After you, my dear secretary. Let's discuss those...repayment terms in private.’

You notice that his assistant isn’t at her desk and frown, ‘Where’s Mia, she likes good gossip.’

He laughs, a rich, velvety sound that sends a shiver down your spine, ‘Ah, poor Mia. She's been transferred. Thought it would be good for her to spread her wings, so to speak,’ he winks suggestively, though you weren’t sure if she was dead or alive.

‘Besides, I prefer my interactions with you to be...unfiltered,’ he steps closer, his presence dominating the space between you, ‘Now, about that repayment…’

He closes the distance, claiming your mouth in a hungry kiss that leaves you gasping for air. When he finally pulls back, his eyes burn with a fierce, carnal hunger, ‘I believe a demonstration of your dedication would be in order. On my desk. Now.’

He takes your hand, guiding it to the bulge straining against his trousers, ‘Feel that, sweetheart? That's what happens when a man gets excited. And trust me, you're the cause of it,’ he grins wickedly, ‘Now, are you going to continue stalling, or are you ready to prove your worth?’

Without waiting for a response, he spins you around and pushes you onto his desk, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he looms over you, ‘Let's start with a little exploration, shall we?’ His hands roam over your curves, mapping out the contours of your body with a possessive touch.

You gasp against each touch, ‘How exactly is this repayment?’

Mikey leans in, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he speaks in a low, husky tone, ‘This, my dear, is merely the beginning. A taste of what's to come,’ His hands slide lower, deftly unbuttoning your blouse and slipping inside to caress the soft skin beneath,

‘Consider this an investment in your future. By satisfying my desires, you're securing your place here...and maybe even earning a promotion,’ he laughs, nipping at your earlobe, ‘Of course, there may be certain...tasks assigned to you in exchange for your loyalty.’

He pushes your blouse off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. His fingers dance across the lace of your bra, toying with the delicate fabric, ‘Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding under that prim and proper exterior.’

‘What kind of promotion, I’m not complaining sir, I’m just a little confused,’ you say honestly.

He smiles, a cold, calculating expression that belies the heat simmering in his eyes, ‘Oh, but you should be proud. Proud to serve such a powerful man as myself,’ he trails a finger down your cleavage, tracing the curve of your breasts, ‘As for your promotion...let's just say you'll have access to more...exclusive areas of the company. Areas where only a select few are privy to the inner workings,’ his hand slips beneath your bra, palming your breast with a firm grasp, ‘You'll be handling sensitive information, making crucial decisions that could shape the future of our empire,’ he

leans in, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers, ‘And of course, there will be certain...personal duties required of you. Ones that demand your complete devotion and obedience.’

You gasp loudly and arch your back against his touch, ‘you mean the other executives? I heard a rumour that you’re all psychopaths.’

Mikey laughs, a deep, mocking sound that echoes through the room, ‘Psychopaths, hmm? Well, perhaps that's a bit dramatic. We're simply men who understand the true nature of power and aren't afraid to wield it.’ His hand slides down your stomach, fingers dipping below the waistband of your skirt.

‘And yes, you'll be working closely with them. They'll expect the same level of...dedication from you that I do,’ he grinds his hips against yours, the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, ‘But don't worry, I'll be keeping a close eye on you. Ensuring you meet their expectations.’

He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he studies your reaction, ‘Now, are you prepared to take on these new responsibilities? To become an integral part of our inner circle?’

Through the warm haze enveloping your body you manage to get out one last bit of attitude, ‘Do I get a pay rise, sir?’

Mikey grunts, amused by your boldness, ‘A pay rise? My, my, aren't you a greedy little thing?’ he Slides his hand further down, cupping your mound possessively, ‘But I suppose if you perform well enough, I might consider sweetening the deal.’

He presses two fingers against your clothed sex, rubbing slow circles that send jolts of pleasure through your core, ‘However, I expect complete discretion. No one can know about our arrangement. Your loyalty belongs solely to me.’

You hum, ‘So will I be servicing the other executives sexually or simply running tasks?’

He smirks, his fingers still teasing your sensitive flesh, ‘Ah, the naivety is endearing. In this world, lines blur easily. Your services will be demanded by all of us, in whatever form we desire,’ he leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, ‘You'll learn to adapt, to satisfy each of our unique tastes.’

He pinches your clit gently, sending a spark of pleasure-pain through you, ‘As for me...well, let's just say I have very specific needs. Needs that require constant attention and gratification,’ he grinds his erection against you harder, the friction sending a wave of heat through your veins, ‘You'll be servicing me frequently. Very frequently indeed.’

You nod feverishly, ‘I look forward to finding out your specific needs sir.’

Mijey hums, pleased by your eagerness, ‘Good girl. I have a feeling you'll fit in nicely here,’ he slips a finger beneath the elastic of your panties, delving into your slick folds, ‘Now, let's explore these needs of mine, shall we?’

He thumbs your clit in time with the thrust of his finger, pumping in and out of your hole, ‘I want you dripping wet for me at all times. Ready to fulfil my desires on a moment's notice,’ he curves his finger to stroke your G-spot, applying just the right pressure to make your toes curl, ‘Can you handle that? Being my plaything, always available to sate my cravings?’

You grip the front of his shirt and throw your head back panting, ‘I can try.’

He groans approvingly, his need spiking at your eager response, ‘That's it. Show me how much you want this,’ his fingers move faster, plunging deeper as he pinches your clit harder, drawing a sharp cry from your lips.

‘I'll teach you to crave my touch as much as I crave yours. To beg for it, plead for release,’ he captures your mouth in a brutal kiss, tongue invading, claiming every inch as his own, ‘You'll be addicted to me, body and soul. And I'll make sure you never forget whose cock is filling you, whose fingers are stroking your pussy.’

He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he stares down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, ‘Now, let's see how quickly you can learn to please me. Strip for me, Slowly and get on your knees.’

You get off the desk, your legs feeling like jelly, but do as you’re told, removing each item one by one until you’re down to your birthday suit. This whole situation wasn’t normal, but there was no denying how much you were enjoying this. You get down on your knees and chew your lip keeping your head bowed, ‘I’ve never actually sucked anyone off before sir, I’ve only seen it in videos.’

He eyes you hungrily, drinking in the sight of your naked form, ‘Don't worry about doing it 'right' there's no script, no rules here. Just follow your instincts, and surrender to the moment.’

He steps closer, towering over you as you kneel on the plush carpet, ‘Look at me, keep eye contact,’ he reaches down, wrapping a hand around your throat in a gentle yet assertive grip, ‘Breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow.’

He leans in, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he whispers, ‘You're so fucking beautiful like this. A pretty little toy, just begging to be played with,’ he squeezes your throat slightly, watching your pulse flutter, ‘Now, open your mouth. Wide.’

He guides your trembling hands to his belt buckle, helping you undo it with impatient fingers. Steps out of his pants, freeing his massive erection. It throbs in the cool air, already leaking precum, ‘See what you do to me? How hard you make me?’ he wraps a hand around the base, giving himself a few strokes.

‘Now, put that pretty mouth to use. Suck my cock like you mean it,’ he tangles his fingers in your hair, guiding you closer until the head of his dick brushes your lips, ‘Take it deep, choke on it if you can.’

You lick the precum before taking him slowly into your mouth, not used to being filled this way.

Mikey groans as your warm mouth envelops him, head falling back in bliss, ‘Fuck, that's it. Just like that,’ his hands tighten in your hair, holding you steady as he starts to rock his hips, pushing himself deeper into your throat.

‘Take it all, baby. Relax your jaw, breathe through your nose,’ he pumps faster, relishing the way your throat constricts around him, ‘Goddamn, you were made for this. Made to choke on my cock.’

He looks down at you, eyes dark with lust, ‘You love this, don't you? Love being used, degraded, treated like a set of holes for me to fuck,’ he yanks your head back suddenly, saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

‘Tell me how much you love it, Beg for more,’ he demands.

You look up with tear-filled eyes, ‘I love it…I need more…please use me…I’m nothing without you using me.’

He smirks wickedly, loving the desperation in your voice, ‘Nothing, huh? Just a set of holes for me to ruin?’ He shoves his cock back into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat harshly, ‘Then take it, whore. Take every fucking inch.’

He holds your head still, slamming into you relentlessly, grunting with each thrust, ‘Such a good little cocksucker. Milk me dry with that slutty mouth,’ he angles his hips, grinding against your face, smearing precum across your cheeks.

‘Fuck, I'm getting close. Swallow it all, every last drop,’ he ruts into you wildly, chasing his impending orgasm, ‘Here it comes, bitch. Fuck!’ he bursts down your throat with a guttural moan, flooding your mouth with his seed.

You try your best to swallow every last drop and continue sucking slower waiting for him to come down from his high. He exhales shakily, chest heaving, ‘now you clean me up,’ he gently pulls out of your mouth, letting his cock slip from between your lips with a pop, ‘use your tongue and lap up every drop you left.’

He watches intently as you obediently start cleaning him, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, ‘That's it, be thorough. Make sure you get every bit of my essence off your face.’

He steps back, allowing you to stand and finish the task.

‘Once you're done, get on the desk. Spread your legs for me and present yourself like a good little slut,’ he walks away and around his desk to take his seat, leaning back in his chair as he waits for you to comply.

You quickly clean yourself and get up with shaky legs, using the desk behind you as some support. Of course, Mikey wasn’t going to help you. You walk around the desk and manage to sit on it directly in front of where he sits, you spread your thighs and use your hands to support yourself. Mikey rolls the chair forward and runs a finger down your inner thigh causing your legs to tremble, ‘beautiful’ he murmurs.

He dips his head, dragging his tongue across your slit teasingly, ‘I’m going to feast on your sweet cunt.’

He laps at your folds, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, ‘Let me hear those pretty moans as I devour your pussy,’ he seals his lips around your clit, sucking hard as he slides two fingers inside you.

‘Ahhh... oh god... yessss... please don't stop…’ you arch your back, pushing your hips against his face as he eats you out intensely. Your hand's fist in the desk as pleasure crashes through you, ‘More...Mikey...please...I'm so close…’

He growls against your slick flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you, ‘Come for me then. Drench me in your juices as I finger-fuck this greedy cunt,’ he pumps faster, curling his digits to hit your G-spot with ruthless precision.

‘Shout louder, let everyone hear what a shameless slut you are for me,’ he scissors his fingers, stretching you deliciously as he continues his assault on your sensitive bud, ‘Come on, give it to me. Scream my name as you fall apart,’ He nips at your clit sharply, sending you hurtling towards oblivion, ‘Now, Cum NOW!’

‘AHHHH!!! MIKEY!!!! OH MY GODDD!!!’ Your entire body convulses as an earth-shattering orgasm rips through you. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as you squirt all over his hand and face. You collapse onto the desk, gasping for air, your skin flushed and tingling all over, ‘Holy shit... that was... incredible…’

He licks his lips, savouring your sweet nectar as he slowly withdraws his fingers from your fluttering hole. Sits back on his heels, admiring the sight of you sprawled out before him, thoroughly debauched, ‘Look at you, utterly spent and satisfied. All because of me.’

He wipes his face with a handkerchief before tucking it away, ‘But we're far from finished, pet,’ he grabs your ankles, pulling you roughly to the edge of the desk, ‘I'm nowhere near done with you yet,’ he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your soaked folds, ‘Ready for round two?’ he asks with a wicked grin, knowing full well you have no choice but to submit to him again and again.

‘Yes... I'm ready... I'll always be ready for you…’ You pant out, your body already aching for more despite the mind-blowing orgasm you just had. You spread your legs wider in an invitation, completely surrendered to your will, ‘Take me, Mikey. Ruin me’

Mikey smirks triumphantly at your complete submission, revelling in the power he holds over you, ‘Good girl,’ he grips your hips bruisingly tight, positioning himself at your entrance, ‘Brace yourself, I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for days,’ he slams into you with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt in your tight heat.

‘FUCK! Still so fucking tight after all that,’ he growls and sets a punishing pace, pounding into you mercilessly, ‘This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be claimed, owned, used for my pleasure alone,’ he reaches down, rubbing your clit roughly as he rails you, ‘Scream for me, let me hear that pretty voice as I split you open on my cock.’

‘AHHHHH!!! YES!!! JUST LIKE THAT!!! HARDER!!! USE ME MORE!!!’ you scream out in ecstasy, your nails raking down his back as he ravages you. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, urging him deeper as your pussy clenches greedily around his pistoning shaft, ‘OH GOD...YOU FEEL SO GOOD...I LOVE YOUR COCK...I'M YOURS...PLEASE DON'T STOP!!!’ You babble incoherently, lost in a haze of pleasure and pain, completely consumed by the primal act of being taken so forcefully.

Mikey groans loudly, feeling your walls flutter and spasm around him as he drives into you with reckless abandon, ‘That's right, take it all, you filthy whore,’ he crashes his mouth against yours in a rough, dominating kiss, swallowing your screams as he fucks you senseless.

‘You were made for this, for being used as my cum dump,’ he breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he gazes down at you with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, ‘I can feel you getting closer, can't you? Your cunt is squeezing me so tightly, begging for release.’

He slaps your ass hard, leaving a bright red mark, ‘Well, beggars can't be choosers. When I fill you up with my seed, you'd better milk it for all it's worth. Every last drop belongs inside this greedy little hole.’

‘YES!! FILL ME UP!! I WANT IT ALL!!!’ you wail, your body shaking uncontrollably as another massive orgasm builds within you. The intensity of his words, the sting of his slap, the relentless pounding of his cock - it all pushes you over the edge, ‘OH FUCK... I'M COMING AGAIN!!! MIKEY!!!’ your pussy spasms wildly, gushing around him as you come undone once more under his brutal domination.

Mikey snarls in satisfaction as he feels your climax crash over you, milking his cock for every ounce of pleasure, ‘That's it, squeeze me dry, you insatiable slut,’ he pounds into you furiously, chasing his own release as your velvety walls rip through him.

‘Fuck, here it comes…’ With a guttural roar, he slams deep one final time, erupting inside you in a torrent of hot, thick cum, ‘TAKE IT! EVERY LAST DROP!’ he grinds against you, ensuring his seed coats your insides thoroughly as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

‘Thank god for birth control. If this is what you're like, what about the other executives?’ You somehow manage to speak, panting and voice hoarse.

Mikey smirks, a dark glint in his eyes, ‘Oh, they're nothing compared to me. They might think they're powerful and in charge, but they don't have the same...drive. The hunger. The thirst for absolute control. They can never match up to what I am capable of. And you, my dear, are going to see that firsthand.’

You shudder slightly, both aroused and unnerved by the intensity of his words. There's something deeply unsettling about the way he talks, like there's a darkness lurking beneath the surface that could consume you entirely if you let it. Yet, the thought only makes you wetter, your core throbbing with need.

‘What do you mean? What exactly are you capable of?’ you ask breathlessly, your heart racing as you await his response, simultaneously dreading and craving whatever twisted desires he may unleash upon you.

Mikey leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, ‘I'm capable of things that would make even the most depraved minds recoil in horror. Dark pleasures, forbidden desires, the kind that can only be satiated by those who dare to embrace their inner demons.’

He trails a finger down your cheek, his touch chilling despite the heat of our bodies entwined, ‘With you, I can indulge in these vices without restraint, safe in the knowledge that you crave them just as much as I do. Together, we'll descend into the depths of depravity, lost in a world where pleasure and pain are indistinguishable.’

He pulls back, his gaze piercing and intense, ‘So, are you prepared to surrender yourself fully to me, to become my willing plaything in the pursuit of these twisted delights?’

‘As long as I still have a job, I think I can adjust,’ you answer, not sure if it was out of honesty, fear or lust.

Mikey chuckles darkly, a sound that sends shivers down your spine, ‘Oh, you'll have a job alright. One that suits your...unique talents. And if you ever think of leaving, well, let's just say I have ways of making sure you stay put.’

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless, ‘Now, let's get cleaned up and ready for round three, shall we? I've got a few toys I want to introduce you to,’ he winks, a sinister promise in his eyes.

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apute11as · 11 months ago

Text

Everything happens for a reason part 3 - Alexia putellas x pregnant!reader

Author note- hey guys here’s part 3! Hope you are enjoying the series! Please leave a comment with any feedback (positive or otherwise) it’s always helpful 🤍🤍

Warnings⚠️ swearing (that’s about it I think) it’s mostly angst

————

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/733631966220582912/everything-happens-for-a-reason-alexia-putellas

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/apute11as/735082085825576960/everything-happens-for-a-reason-part-2-alexia

—————

The next day rolled around fairly quickly as you and Alessia had made a brief exit, claiming travel sickness to be the cause of your tearful exit from the room. As you woke up the next day you were met with the sound of a blaring alarm that read 6:30am.

Groaning you began to trudge out of bed, as Alessia did the same from the other bed.

“What are you doing?” Rung Alessia’s sleepy voice.

“Getting ready for training?” you said, puzzled.

“Oh are you sure you want to play, do you feel well?” questioned the striker

“yeah surprisingly I feel alright this morning” you smiled but you were soon cut off by a harsh ringing of your phone and were met with Alexia’s face plastered across your screen. You hesitated at first but then clicked the green button.

“Bon dia mi amor, I was starting to this you weren’t awake” came the a husky, Catalonian voice.

“Hey baby yeah I’m up sorry just misplaced my phone.” you assured her.

“How is camp are you feeling better now?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if maybe you should just share your concerns with your wife, knowing that she could potentially offer clarity. However you ultimately decided against it as you had your mind set on attending the World Cup and playing as much as possible. Your mind wandered as you began working it out in your head, realising that by the end of the tournament, you’d be almost 3 months pregnant which would likely carry risks when you played.

“Princesa? Are you still there?” your wife questioned with worry.

“Lo siento Ale I’m here, I’m just so tired sorry my mind isn’t focusing.” you offered

“I understand bebita, I’ll call you back later vale?” the Spaniard inquired.

“Sí of course I’ll call you after training, te quiero mucho Alexia.” you voiced

“I love you too amor.” she replied blowing a kiss at the screen, which you returned before ending the call.

“You ok?” Asked Alessia with a pitiful smile.

“Yeah I’m good. Thank you Less I really mean it.” you replied

“always and we’ll get the test later to calm your mind down” she smiled

———

The morning had been relatively smooth, with minimal nausea and training with the girls had even distracted you completely for a number of hours- something that you welcomed with open arms. During the rondo is when it all started to take a turn for the worse. You felt yourself growing more easily tired than usual, struggling to catch your breath after a run down the wing, the sick feeling started to form.

You’d been stood in a small huddle half way through the drill when you felt the bile begin to rise in your throat and before you knew it you were making a run to the changing rooms and throwing up in the nearest bin. Alessia and Mary were close behind and you felt a hand rubbing up your back as you dry heaved into the bin.

“come on y/n we’re going to get the medicine” said Alessia

“what medicine?” you questioned, whilst attempting to regain your composure.

“You know what we talked about getting at lunch? To cure your illness” she said through gritted teeth as your mind finally caught up.

“Ohh ok yes sorry” you replied, eyes darting between her and Mary.

“What’s up with you?” Asked Mary, concerned.

“Just the flu we think” you answered, stoically.

“Should you be playing??” She urged

“Probably not but I didn’t want to worry anyone” you lied about your condition

“Y/N your health should come first always!” Mary insisted.

“Sorry Mar it will next time I promise” you offered, which seemed to be enough for you as she allowed you and Alessia to leave, whilst she told the team of your suspected flu- an answer they gave little question to.

———

The journey to the shop was brief. You slipped in with hoods up and made sure to use self checkout to minimise the risk of being spotted because what a scandal that would cause.

Once you returned to your shared room, the two of you made your way to the bathroom, carrying three different brands of pregnancy test in your bag.

“Do you want to do them all at once?” Alessia inquired.

“I mean I doubt I have the pee control to do it any other way” you replied, attempting to lighten the tense mood.

You sat down on the toilet and held the tests below you as Alessia turned to face the door. Once you’d taken them, you turned all three face down on the counter and the two of you sat on the stone floor of the bathroom with a 5 minute timer on Alessia’s phone. Your mind wandered to your wife in Spain as the guilt crept in about keeping this potentially life changing moment from her.

Before you could get too absorbed in your thoughts, the timer sounded signifying it was time to check the tests.

“you’ve got this.” Reassured the blonde with a small smile.

“3, 2, 1” you rehearsed before flipping the text.

First one: positive

Second one: positive

Third one: positive

“Oh shit” Alessia voiced.

“Oh shit indeed.”

“What are you gonna do? Shall I get your phone I can leave whilst you call alexia?” Said the striker.

“No. She can’t know.” You responded emotionlessly.

“What why not?” Alessia questioned, shock evident in her tone.

“She’ll stop me from playing Alessia. I have to play! By the time it’s noticeable the World Cup will be done and I’ll tell her then to cheer her up if neither of us win it or to add fuel to the celebration if one of us does. Oh my god what if she’s not happy?” your breathing picks up rapidly “she wanted the baby before but what if she’s changed her mind Alessia?” Your breathing was becoming frantic.

“Calm down y/n/n breathe just breathe” Alessia said putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t Alessia! What if she leaves me? I can’t raise a baby on my own!” You began to hyperventilate, reaching a state of full blown panic.

“Y/n you need to breathe ok, we can sort all that after, you don’t need to tell alexia today just calm down, breathe, think of the baby ok, breathe for the baby!” Alessia urged.

“Ok ok” you said steadying your breath, Alessia’s grip on your shoulders grounding you.

“You feeling calmer now?” questioned the blonde.

“Yes thank you Alessia it really means a lot” you smiled, hugging the younger girl.

——

The first game of the tournament came around fast. With it being Haiti, you weren’t too concerned as they hadn’t been an especially tough team in the past. You still hadn’t told Alexia about the pregnancy. Although Alessia had managed to convince you to see a doctor, luckily she wasn’t a football fan so had no idea who the two of you were, and much to your amusement she confused you as a couple which sent the two of you into fits of giggles, before correcting her. You and Alexia still kept in contact, she’d noticed something off with you but each time she’d brought it up, you shut her down with and blamed it on fatigue. She wasn’t stupid and didn’t buy a word of it but she also knew you’d tell her in your own time, whatever it was so she didn’t push.

When sarina announced you to be in the starting eleven you sighed heavily, realising that the game would be tougher than anticipated. What’s more, you were playing centre back. Normally, you played CDM or on occasion CM but with Leah out and Millie having picked up a light injury in training, England were short on reliable centre backs.

As the whistle sounded to signify the start of the match, you drew a sharp breath in anticipation of the difficulty these next 90 minutes would prevail.

—

Half time came around eventually. After a gruelling first half, you welcomed the break. You were leading 1-0 only thanks to a penalty from Georgia, which wasn’t overly comforting as Haiti were putting up a fair fight. You were forced to make some risky tackles, many of which ended up with you on the floor, body twisted at awkward angles. This did nothing to help Alessia’s growing anxiety for you. She’d become protective over you as she felt partially responsible, being the only one who knew about the pregnancy still. Every time you’d gone down with a challenge, she’d been by your side, checking you over (despite being practically on opposite ends of the pitch).

What you didn’t know was that Alexia was sat in a hotel room, watching every interaction and was beginning to grow suspicious of your new found closeness to the blonde striker. Lingering touches which to you and Alessia were nothing more than her checking on you and the baby, to Alexia were symbols of a growing affection between the two of you. Her jaw remained clenched at every interaction.

——

The game ended 1-0. A tight win but the three points were yours nonetheless. Your body ached all over. As you headed for the coach in a slumped motion due to the fatigue, you were stopped with a warm hand on your shoulder, one that belonged to Lucy Bronze.

“Hey Luce are you ok?” you sighed out.

“I’m alright Mrs putellas but are you?” She asked with concern. You cringed at the nickname she gave you before responding.

“Tough match that’s all, why do you ask?” you inquired with a furrowed brow.

“Alexia told me you weren’t yourself lately, asked me to check up on you. Oh and also I was quite concerned to hear that you didn’t tell her about your quite awful round of the flu the other week?” she questioned

“Oh erm must of slipped my mind?” You offered weakly.

“Yeah I’m sure, what’s really up Y/N?” Questioned the brunette.

“I-I can’t tell you” you stuttered, eyes damp with tears that threatened to fall at any moment.

“Why not, you know you can trust me with anything?” she said, face contorted with a mixture of confusion and hurt.

“I know Lucy and I love you for it but it’s personal I’m sorry.” you half smiled at her

“Yeah yeah I get that, you don’t have to tell me but you should really tell your wife.” She rebounded.

“No she can’t know!” You said on reflex, as though you were talking about it to Alessia.

“Know what? Y/N I’m worried now what’s going on?” Lucy pushed further.

“Y/N” called Alessia, jogging towards the two of you. “Are you coming?” She gestured to the bus.

“Yeah of course.” You smiled at the striker. Lucy however, didn’t miss the relaxation of your body at Alessia’s presence. Making a mental note to bring this up when Alexia called again.

——

Alexia’s POV

Y/N has been off with me for weeks. Ever since that day she left for the World Cup, she’s been so distant. At first I thought it was to do with us being rivals at the World Cup but now I fear there’s something more.

After watching her game against Haiti, I noticed her closeness with Russo, England’s young striker. My stomach twisted in discomfort as I watched them interact, Y/N responding to her touch in the way she’d normally only do for me. Jealousy rippled through me, could it be? Is this why she’s been off with me? Was my wife really cheating on me with her teammate?

Back to neural POV

Frantically, Alexia called Lucy for the second time this week. After a few rings she picked up.

“Hola Capi” sounded the English- twinged Spanish of Lucy bronze.

“Hola Lucia, well done on the game”

“Gracias Alexia? Not to be rude but why are you calling me?” She questioned

“Has Y/N been acting weird at all?” She asked simply

“Funny you say that she was being odd earlier. She seemed sad so I asked her what was up and I got minimal response but then I got her to crack a little. She told me there was something but she couldn’t tell me. Then Alessia came along and grabbed her to go to the bus. They spent the whole journey whispering about something so I’m not sure what to take from it?” Offered Lucy

“That little bitch” snapped alexia

“Woah what now?” Questioned Lucy at the harsh words Alexia had just produced

“I think she’s cheating on me Luce” replied alexia, both anger and sadness laced her voice.

“Oh wow Ale that’s a huge conculsion to jump to.” Stated the older woman.

“Well did you not see how much they touched eachother in that game. I was observing them the whole time Alessia was practically glued to her at every opportunity.” Snarled alexia.

“Now that you say it they’ve been spending a lot of time together but I wouldn’t make any rash decisions on the matter Alexia.” Offered Lucy.

“Thanks Lucy I’m gonna call her now.” Alexia stated harshly

——

After the team bus made its way back to the hotel in Sydney, you and Alessia wandered up to your rooms (next door to eachother as requested). You’d barely been back and hour before you received a FaceTime from your wife. Weird, you’d thought. It was a couple of hours earlier than you’d discussed but you brushed it off and answered anyways.

“Hola mi amor” you spoke down the phone.

“Fuck you” came your wife’s angry tone

“W-what? Mi Vida are you ok?” You asked with concern in your voice

“You’re cheating on me are you, with Russo?” She snarled

“WHAT?! No Alexia where did you get that from?” you were shocked at this revelation

“I saw the two of you in that game, every time you were tackled she was right beside you. She’s up front you’re a defender for fucks sake you’re miles away from each other!” She practically yelled down the phone.

“Alexia no it’s not like that at all, she’s just been looking out for me.” You reassured the Spaniard.

“Looking out for you? I know we’re not seeing eachother for a while but i didn’t realise you were pathetic enough to need another woman to satisfy you! It’s been 3 fucking weeks Y/N!” She roared

“You don’t understand Alexia I needed someone to talk to, to support me in person.” you were in tears now.

“SUPPORT YOU? What the fuck with? I call you everyday to check in and you won’t tell me anything so you’re whoring yourself out to the next person you can find!” She pushed further

“No Alexia! It’s not like that not at all please!” You begged

“Then what is it huh? What could you possibly need support with that I can’t give you right now?!” She boomed

“Alexia, I’m- I’m pregnant! The IVF worked its your baby, sorry you had to find out like this.” you burst into tears.

Alexia sat there in shock. You were pregnant, with her baby, how could she have been so stupid!

—————

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #espwnt #fcb femeni #espwnt x reader #fcb femeni x reader #alessia russo #alexia putellas x reader #lionesses #alessia russo x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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raineandsky · 5 months ago

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#120

When the villains caught wind of a new hero on the team, they’d all taken interest. When someone came back claiming he’s blind, it’d sparked a whole new debate.

Straightforward, they’d all said. He won’t even see us coming. They’d laughed at how easy it’d seemed.

The villain feels like they’ve stumbled on a pile of gold when they come across the hero. He’s running his hand along something on the fence in front of him, something that the villain will later realise is a braille description of the view ahead of him. A white cape drifts around his ankles, an equally white suit flattering against his typical heroic body, the lightest of smiles on his face as his fingers trace the patterns of dots along the railing.

The villain can’t help but grin as they slowly make their way towards the poor hero, so oblivious, so stupid. They’re barely a hair breadth away, their dagger practically unsheathing itself, when the hero spins towards them with a swish of his cape and a flick of a blade.

The villain barely reels back in time. Staying quiet doesn’t occur to them when they’re startled. The hero looks like he’s staring right through them, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“Ah,” he says brightly, “you’re one of those criminals I’m meant to be looking out for?”

The villain sidesteps, careful to keep their footing quiet, but it doesn’t matter. The hero’s head cocks towards them as they try to step out of his blade’s path.

“You’re almost silent,” the hero continues. A smirk adorns his face, intrigued. “Incredible.”

The villain is close enough to strike, the hero looking slightly too far beyond them to be right in his assumptions. The villain shifts in fast, their dagger poised. The hero dodges back and retaliates with a swing of his own.

The villain stumbles out of reach and the hero follows. The villain’s unprepared; they were expecting a hero who’s unsure who they’re looking for, where the villain is. They were expecting an easy plaything that they could stab when they got bored.

But this—the hero is nothing but brazen confidence.

The villain shoves their dagger up to meet his blade, throwing his arm out. They move in for another strike but the hero’s already recovered. His blade easily tucks under their arm and slices into their side.

Something of a strangled gasp escapes the villain before they can stop it. They stagger back, a hand touched timidly to the wound, their eyes flitting back up to the hero. He simply waits, his blade crimson and his eyes blank. How? How?

“Would you do me the honour of telling me who I’ve met?” he asks, as if this is nothing more than a casual meeting between friends of friends. The villain wants to snap him in half for the audacity.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Aha,” the hero says, almost a laugh, “You’re [Villain].”

The villain can only stare at him in horror. The hero seems to feel the tension in the silence, because he continues. “You’ve a bad mouth, favour in the blade, light on your feet.” A teasing smile. “And you’ve a smooth, caramel voice I haven’t heard in many like you.”

“Wh— Excuse me— You—”

The hero just smirks, the stupid smirk of someone who knows he’s untouchable in every sense of the word. “Flustered by compliments, too,” the hero finishes with a laugh. “Good to remember for next time.”

“I’m not flustered!” the villain finally manages, “and my voice isn’t caramel. That isn’t a thing. You sound stupid.”

“I’m happy to be stupid if it means I can recognise you as the villain who speaks in caramel.”

The villain’s side is beginning to really ache. They need to be somewhere that’s not here when it inevitably gets worse. “Do what you want. I’m going home.”

“May I escort you to a prison cell?”

The villain barks a laugh, their side practically splitting with the forced fakeness of it. “As if you know where the agency is from here.”

“I always know where I am, [Villain].” A smile again, softer this time. Knowing. “You underestimate me for a characteristic I think makes me as interesting to you as you are to me.”

The burn in the villain’s skin is an ode to that. “Sure.” The villain turns on their heel before a thought occurs to them. “I’m going to walk away, loudly. Do me a favour and don’t fucking shank me when I do.”

The hero’s face twists back into a smirk. “As long as I hear you moving away. Until next time, [Villain].”

A blind hero! everyone had cried. It’s almost too easy!

The villain scurries away with a gash to the side and a slam to their ego, and they know now to know better than that.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #im offically freeeeeeeeeeee #im so excited to reset my sleep schedule cause why am i in bed by 9pm #that being said life has been hectic recently! posts may slow down a bit while i get my shit together #theres been a lot goin on atm and i probably need a lil time to get back into the swing of things to get my creativity back #ill make a post about it for yall who dont see this so i dont just disappear off the face of the earth one day lmao #love yall either way <3

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luveline · 9 months ago

Note

hiii jadey <3 i’ve been having a bit of a rough time in college lately and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write some bombshell!reader where spencer talks about being bullied in high school and maybe bombshell can relate? even if not, just a lot of comfort please? i hope you’re doing well!! <333

ty for ur request!!! fem

It’s a blessing and a curse whenever you come around. Spencer’s thinking he hadn’t seen you in a while when your text lights up his screen, a summoning if there ever was one.

Hi Spencer, I need some help with my laptop. It turns out for about ten seconds and then turns off again. Do you think you can fix it?

He has no idea. Probably. Do you want me to come by SCU?

No need

“Spencer!” you say, practically glowing as you drop your messenger bag on his already crowded desk. “Sorry, that’s so heavy.”

“You’re here,” he says, surprised.

You lean down to hug him in his chair. Spencer can’t ignore that he likes every part of you, your arms as they wrap around his shoulders, the perfume on your neck as you touch your cheek to his, even the soft exhale of your breath by his ear. “Hi, Dr. Reid,” you say gently. “Missed you. So happy my laptop isn’t working ‘cos now I get to see you.”

You pull away with a grin. Your lips are a shade of pink that Spencer won’t soon forget.

“That was fast.”

“So fast,” you say. “You know I love an excuse to see you and to not be at work.”

You work very hard, but you’re like anyone. Stealing time is fun and free. “You’re not gonna get in trouble, right?”

“With who? Hotch doesn’t care if I’m here and Sandy,” —you full body shiver at the mention of your boss— “won’t notice I’m gone for another hour. Besides, I can’t have a broken laptop. They’re pretty cool, right?”

“Laptops?”

“Yeah, I like them. I just need the WiFi to work everywhere.” You squint at him. “Is that something you can do?”

Spencer cannot make the WiFi work everywhere you go, but he can soft reset your laptop after a short investigation of the problem. It takes about five minutes, in which you steal Morgan’s chair and get comfortable next to him, legs crossed, hand resting open on your thigh. “You’re so smart. I bet you were very popular in high school.”

He laughs, startled, a horrible sinking feeling moving through his chest. “What? Why would you think that?”

“‘Cos you’re a genius at everything, right? I bet you were always helping people with their homework.”

His lips last. He doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t think I talked to anyone in high school who didn’t want to hang me at the top of a flag pole,” he says honestly.

Your lovely smile falls flat. “What?”

“I skipped a couple of grades, so I was younger than everybody, and I wasn’t well liked. I was actually bullied pretty badly.” He laughs again with that same brittle panic. He’s talking without thinking, it just spilled out, it’s spilling still, “I used to get beat up for breathing wrong.”

You’re quiet. Spencer panics worse because why has he told you that? You’re so sweet to him but that doesn’t mean you wanted to know about his worst moments, he can practically feel the affection you had for him melting away as you realise he’s a loser, he’s pathetic–

“I was bullied too,” you say, giving him a tentative smile. “All the way through high school and a little bit after that, too. Maybe that’s why we get along so well, huh?”

He looks at his hands. “You were?”

“Yep.” He can hear the strain of wanting to sound normal. “I mean, I didn’t get beat up, Spencer, that’s awful and I’m– I’m so sorry.”

You’re the last person he’d ever want an apology from, because you’re one of the only people he’s ever met who likes him as he is. You could never make him hurt the way he did back then. High school was years ago and it lingers like it happened yesterday. “I can still remember the stuff they used to say to me,” he says.

“I got made fun of for so much stuff,” you agree. “Boys I didn’t even know would berate me in the halls for just being there. I got called ugly so much I genuinely believed I was for years.”

“You’re not ugly,” he says immediately.

“I know.”

He nods thoughtfully. “It’s hard trying to forget about it. I think if people knew how much I carry with me from then they’d tell me to let it go, but I can’t.”

“You don’t have to let it go, Spence, so long as you know it’s not your fault it happened.”

You offer your hand. Spencer stares at it. You wiggle your fingers and he thinks, Oh, grasping it quickly, before you change your mind. Your fingers slide between his and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, smiling approvingly, eyes crinkled with pleasure.

“They don’t know what they missed,” you say, a hint of shyness in your voice that’s swiftly covered by your usual confident drawling, “they had unfiltered and unadulterated access to the Spencer Reid, n’ I have to pretend my laptops broken just to see you. So crazy.”

You give his hand a good squeeze.

“It was sort of broken,” he says as you take your hand back. He’s sure his brain is broken too.

“Nah, it always does that. I just give it a love tap and it fixes it again.”

“A what?” He laughs so loudly it turns heads. His crush on you turns to full blown infatuation.

#spencer and bombshell!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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luckykiwiii101 · 9 months ago

Text

Doubting The Law?

Hey doubtful Upper East Siders!

You’ve read many MANY success stories I assume. You’ve analysed them top to bottom to find inconsistencies or anything to pick out to claim as false.

Well, have you ever asked yourself, why?

Not why as in “Why do I not believe them?”

But “Why do their struggles sound exactly like mine?”

“Why have they gone everything i’m going through right now, if not worse?”

“Why is it all so specific?”

“Why’s it all so relatable?”

Well the logical way to answer that is, they’ve been in your shoes before. They’ve gone through what you’re going through. But they realised that they were just scared of success. They weren’t used to success.

The illogical way to answer that is “they’re all lying. Those thousands, millions of people are all lying! they’ve photoshopped all their proof! for fun!”

look on @loasuccessarchive

Now what do you think?

We all have something called emotions.

Ask yourself, “How would I react if i truly believed that the law wasn’t real?”

Would you post a fake success story, attempting to live in the end, when you don’t even believe in it?!?!

Or would you post a rant calling it delusional BS.

I think MOST of us, if not all of us would choose the second option.

So why haven’t we seen much of that here? Why are there more success stories than rants imaginable?

So why do you doubt what’s right in-front of you?

Why do you disbelieve in the illogical. When you ARE the illogical one. Trying convince yourself that something isn’t real when the facts are right in-front if you.

It’s ILLOGICAL for 10000+ people on this app to make up fake stories about the law.

Stop choosing selective irrationality. In other words, stop choosing to be “illogical” when it fits you the most. Just because you were raised to not believe in yourself by society. The average person does not know about the law of assumption. Why would you listen to what they say?

If it was mainstream, you would believe in it wouldn’t you? Because everyone else does.

Still don’t believe me?

Remember all those bloggers that have been offline for months or years after manifesting their dream lives? Why? Oh, maybe because they’ve got their dream lives. They don’t need to roam tumblr anymore.

And i promise you, nobody’s out here concocting silly little plans to crush your dreams and make you believe in something that is fake.

The law was not discovered by little teenage girls pulling a sick joke on you to write in their burn books. It goes WAYYY back. Before you, your mother, your father, your grandmother, your grandfather was born. It’s not something new.

Would this community exist around a fake story?

No, we all know that’s not how the world works.

There is SO much proof all over the internet of people’s results. It’s insane how easy success is. Just let yourself.

You’ve manifested ALL your life.

Now you can do it in your favour.

The law is real, whether you believe in it or not.

And you will use it again, and again, you will use it tomorrow, you’ve used it yesterday, you’re using it today.

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa tumblr #loa blog #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #the void state #neville goddard #edward art #manifesting methods #law of manifestation

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theemporium · 2 years ago

Text

[REQUESTS OPEN—based off this request]

[7.3k] the five times your secret relationship with your brother’s best friend was almost exposed to him and the one time it was.

The first time your brother almost caught you and Sirius, it was a miracle he was as gullible as he was.

Growing up with a brother like James Potter had its highs and lows.

The highs: someone who loved you unconditionally, who was there for you regardless of your mistakes and flaws, who had your back even if the whole world was against you because that was just how he loved.

The lows: he was an overbearing, overprotective helicopter busybody who seemed to make it his goal to make sure you didn’t have a life. Well, not really but his interference sure did make it difficult to have any sort of social life without him getting involved.

A keen example of such would be your dating life.

Being just under a year younger than him, you didn’t enrol in Hogwarts until the following year where you were sorted into Slytherin—much to your brother’s dismay. But it seemed like a blessing in disguise when you realised it was the one way you were able to escape him and his domineering ways. Despite all his weaselling and bribing, even James Potter couldn’t get loyal spies in Slytherin.

However, the different houses only saved you from so much and it seemed like James had made it his mission for every boy in the school vicinity to know you were off-limits. He didn’t outwardly state it—he would never do something so brash and obvious to the world that your mother would hear about it—but he would do a damn good job of showing it.

The poor bloke who tried to give you a Valentine’s Day card in second year was the unfortunate victim, with his walk of shame to the infirmary to visit Madam Pomfrey. It only got worse the older you got. Dances and balls and Hogsmeade dates passed and James scared away any possible prospect you laid your eyes on.

However, what James would have never expected was for it to be none other than one of his best friends to be the one to make a move on his little sister.

And he definitely wouldn’t have expected you to go for Sirius out of the bunch.

“Who are you and what have you done to the real Sirius Black?” you remarked with a faux scandalised look on your face as the boy tugged you, one hand intertwined with yours whilst the other moved to wave his wand at the set up he had created.

“You should know by now that I’m a hopeless romantic, love,” Sirius grinned in response, a smile that was nothing but boyish and wild.

You snorted. “You’re only romantic when you want something, Black.”

He looked back at you, dark eyes glimmering with pure mischief. “Maybe all I want is a day to spend with my girl.”

You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t swoon a little at the sight in front of you. The torn piece of parchment had been tucked into one of your textbooks, found yesterday morning during your potions class. The familiar scribble and small heart signed at the bottom made it clear enough who the message was from.

But you didn’t think Sirius’ desire to meet on a Friday evening after classes would have anything to do with a romantic picnic setup out by the lake.

Your gaze moved over the setup: the large picnic blanket, pillows and throws spread across the surface and the basket lying in the middle with a bottle of wine (that you were sure he somehow smuggled in) popping out one side of it.

“You like it?” he asked, though the boy sounded awfully smug like he knew you liked it.

“You’re pretty extraordinary when you try, Black,” you mused, enjoying the way he tugged you closer until your back was pressed against his chest. You leaned back into his embrace, nuzzled against him as his arms tightened around you. “Why the lake?”

“Because it’s a romantic spot.”

You raised your brows. “And the real reason?”

You could feel his grin against your skin as he leaned down to kiss under your jaw. “Maybe I wanted to take a swim with my girl, is that such a crime?”

“I don’t have a costume with me,” you told him with a knowing sigh.

“Guess we are just gonna have to go naked, love,” he whispered, nipping your ear before guiding you towards the blanket.

You were already making yourself comfortable on the blanket as you began to pull at the tie around your neck, unbuttoning the top buttons of your shirt and shedding the robes that had felt heavy all day. You sighed, kicking your shoes off and leaning back against the blanket as you enjoyed the soft breeze that came with the warming, spring weather.

“M’lady,” he handed you a glass of wine, the giddiness radiating off him only infectious as you took the glass along with one of the chocolate strawberries he had laid out.

“It feels weird,” you murmured as you took a bite, tongue darting out to catch the strawberry juices dribbling down your chin.

Sirius raised a brow. “What does?”

“Seeing you be a normal boyfriend,” you said.

He frowned. “I’m not a normal boyfriend?”

“Sirius,” you snorted and shook your head. “You snuck into my room—still as a dog, may I add—to cuddle with me because you were lonely.”

“I missed you,” he shrugged.

“We weren’t dating yet,” you added.

“I had a shy time admitting my feelings,” he retorted, lifting his chin though you could see the hints of a smile growing on his face. “Plus, you always had a soft spot for me when I was a dog.”

“Except when you pissed on my bag,” you grumbled.

“You kept reading, it was offensive.”

“To who?”

“My ego, love. I was sitting next to you all day and you just kept reading,” Sirius huffed, leaning back on his elbows as he took in the sight of you. It wasn’t often you both could share moments like this, out in broad daylight—even if you were far away from the castle—just enjoying each other’s presence and nothing else to distract you.

Sirius Black didn’t think he could ever love silence so much until he shared it with you.

“Your ego is coping just fine,” you assured him, glancing down at the boy who was already staring at you.

“I preferred it when you’d blush and get all flustered around me,” he muttered. “Now you just bully me.”

“It turns you on,” you remarked with a grin.

“Nah, that’s just you, love,” he bit back. “But I do miss how cute you used to blush when you were crushing on me—”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t have a crush on you!”

“You practically ogled me all last summer!” he barked out a laugh.

“Maybe I was looking at Remus,” you teased.

His eyes narrowed. “Low blow, darling.”

“Yeah but you like me anyways,” you murmured as you leaned down to press your lips against his. One of his hands slid around your neck, keeping you in his embrace longer than you intended.

“I’m not finished,” his voice was a little whiny when you pulled away.

“Five minutes and then I’m all yours, Black,” you assured him as you slid your shoes back on, heading towards the wooded shrubbery. “It’s your fault you dragged me straight out here before warning me we were going somewhere with no toilets.”

“The ice cream would’ve melted,” he pointed out, a boyish grin on his face as you shot him a look that told him you knew he placed a cooling charm on the basket.

You shook your head. “You truly are a romantic, Sirius Black.”

“Only for you, darling,” he grinned as he watched you disappear into the overgrown bushes and trees.

Sirius leaned back on the blanket, hands tucked under his head as he laid there quite content to just count the passing seconds until you returned as he aimlessly hummed some muggle tune he heard during his last visit to muggle London. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear a familiar voice calling out his name for hundreds of feet in the air.

“OI, PADS! THERE YOU FUCKING ARE!”

It wasn’t easy to make Sirius Black feel fear, but seeing your brother descend from the sky on a broomstick with an unreadable expression on his face came pretty damn close.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you—” James paused, both feet now on the grass and his eyes now focused on the sight in front of him: Sirius sprawled on a tartan blanket with a picket basket and two wine glasses beside him. “—and clearly you’ve been preoccupied.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “Why were you looking for me?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get in some laps before dinner,” James said, a grin breaking out on his face. “You didn’t tell me you had a date tonight.”

“I didn’t? Must have slipped my mind,” he laughed off, waving his hand dismissively but he should have known that would not be enough for the boy.

“Who is she?” James asked, eyes glimmering in interest. “Or he? Is it that bloke from—”

“It’s none of your business, Prongs,” Sirius interrupted, knowing the seconds were ticking down until you popped out of the bushes and straight into the eyeline of your brother.

James’ eyes narrowed. “Since when have you ever not made it my business? I know more about you than I care to admit, mate.”

“Consider this me setting boundaries now!”

“You’re being weird,” his friend muttered with a small frown. “But fine. Be dodgy. You’ll probably tell me when you end up getting your ass bitten by the squid like the last time you tried hooking up with a girl in the lake.”

Sirius scoffed. “That never happened!”

“But I sure like telling people it did!” James retorted, his legs kicking off the ground and his broomstick flying through the air before Sirius could even think about standing up.

Sirius watched as your brother’s figure disappeared as he flew beyond the castle, most likely heading towards the quidditch pitch like he said he was. But he didn’t tear his eyes away until he knew for sure James was nowhere nearby and then—only then—did he let out a shaky breath.

“That was close.”

His head snapped around as he watched you step out of the shrubbery, giving him a slightly strained smile as he tugged you down onto his lap.

“You heard him?”

“I could hear him from a mile away,” you snorted in amusement. “He’s gonna find out one day.”

“Do you want to tell him?” Sirius asked cautiously, because truthfully speaking whatever you wanted the boy was willing to give you.

“Not yet,” you murmured, shaking your head. “I wanna enjoy you for myself for a little while longer.”

He grinned. “Well, how can I say no to that?”

…

The second time James almost caught you was purely Sirius’ fault—or at least, that’s what you say. He would disagree.

Assignments and essays were starting to pile up, and between quidditch practice and sneaking around to meet with your boyfriend, you hadn’t devoted near enough time to get your work done. That was why you had decided to spend your weekend in the library—and that was why you had given Sirius a simple rule.

Don’t distract me.

A simple rule. A simple, simple command. Something he should’ve been able to follow for the weekend.

So, of course, in true Sirius Black fashion, he broke the one rule you set.

In his defence, he lasted a lot longer than you expected. It was Sunday afternoon when he finally sauntered into the library, darting through the aisles of books and lingering students before he made his way towards the secluded table you had set yourself up on.

“The bookworm look is kinda hot,” he remarked as he sat himself on the table, just narrowly missing the parchment you had already scribbled your herbology assignment on.

“Watch it,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

There was a small moment of silence before your head snapped up, staring at the boy sitting in front of you with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled, unable to help yourself from glancing around to see if any lingering students this far back in the library had spotted you both yet.

“You know, it’s this funny little thing called missing my girlfriend—”

“I’m serious,” you interrupted.

Sirius couldn’t help but grin. “So am I.”

You shot the boy a look.

“Hey, sorry, sorry,” he murmured and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But I did miss you. I haven’t heard from you all weekend, I was worried. Just wanted to make sure my girl was alive.”

Your face softened. “Don’t start making me swoon when I’m meant to be mad at you, Black.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” you said with a heavy sigh. “But I really have to finish this assignment.”

“Later,” he waved off. “We still have a week.”

“It’s due in two days, love,” you murmured and watched the boy’s eyes widen.

“Huh,” he muttered before he shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll pull something out of my ass in time.”

“You stress me out,” you shook your head.

“But you still keep me around,” Sirius mused as he began to lean down, his eyes locked on your lips and the itching urge to grab your face and kiss you was getting unbearable. It had been too long since he kissed you.

Sirius was mere inches away from your face when a voice sounded behind you.

“Pads?”

Both of your heads swivelled around to find James standing there, eyebrows furrowed together and a piece of folded parchment in hand.

“Hey,” Sirius sang, clearing his throat a little as he quickly shifted back.

“Hey,” James repeated, looking between you and his best friend. “What’s going on here?”

“Take a guess,” you deadpanned as you nodded towards the parchment, quills and ink pots sprawled over the large wooden table.

His eyes moved to Sirius. “And you?”

“I was looking for Moony,” the lie slipped past his lips easily, you would’ve believed him yourself if it weren’t for the fact he had his nose brushing against yours less than a minute ago.

“Right but Moony is doing prefect rounds with Lily,” James muttered.

Sirius blinked. “Oh yeah! So he is. Must’ve slipped my mind.

“And you didn’t think to use this?”

His eyes fell to the parchment in his hand, knowing full well what it was. Sirius cleared his throat again and smiled, “I was in a rush, mate, must’ve forgot about it.”

“Right,” James repeated, something different in his voice.

“Can you both fuck off now? It’s bad enough I had one idiot bothering me before but I need you both,” you piped in, keeping your voice utterly bored as you spoke. Though the annoyance wasn’t totally a lie, you did really need to write your essay.

Whatever James heard in your voice seemed to work as the boy only grinned at you. “I think we make fetching company, don’t you, Pads?”

“I agree, Prongs,” Sirius grinned as he turned to you, ruffling your hair as you tried to bat his hand away. “That’s what I was telling little Potter here. Everyone thinks Moony is the brains in the group, but it’s all a lie.”

“Sure,” you snorted before giving him a shove so he slid off the table. “Off you shoo now, go find Moony.”

“Hey,” James piped jokingly, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Our Moony, only we get to call him that.”

“Remus lets me,” you retorted.

“Whatever,” your brother grumbled before throwing his arm over Sirius’ shoulders. “We have things to do. Business to attend to.”

“Whatever prank it is, just warn me in advance please. I don’t need permanent pink hair again.”

Both boys just grinned. “Now where’s the fun in that, dear sister?”

…

The third time your brother almost caught you and Sirius had to be the worst situation of the lot.

Sirius hadn’t intended to go home that weekend, it would never be a willing journey back to the one place he felt constricted and restrained and under a constant microscope of judgement. However, when he received the owl with his family’s crest on the envelope, he felt a stronger urge to open it rather than just throw it into a fire like he usually did.

Whatever the letter contained, it was enough to convince Sirius to go home on Friday after his classes ended.

He didn’t want to talk about it when he came back, and you didn’t want to push him when you saw just how drained and exhausted the boy was. He looked like a shell of himself, as he usually did whenever he spent more than five minutes in his mother’s presence.

You hadn’t been able to get him alone since he came back, the boys hounding and cheering him over the last few days until he was starting to look like the Sirius you knew.

Yet, the perfect opportunity arose on a Wednesday evening and you snatched it, because you were selfish and needy and wanted to be alone with your boyfriend after you had spent the last three days pretending to only be causally concerned.

“Fuck,” Sirius moaned, his words vibrating and humming across your bare skin. “That feels good.”

“Good to know you like scratches behind your ear as a dog and a human,” you mused as you dragged your fingers through his hair, nails scratching against his scaly until he was practically purring.

The prefect bathrooms were completely empty of a Wednesday evening—information you came aware of after eavesdropping on a conversation between Remus and Lily where the latter mentioned the weekly prefect meeting would be longer this week than usual—and who were you but a Potter using the resources around you? It was practically screaming your name.

Sirius hadn’t even questioned you as you dragged him through the corridors, marauders map in hand so you could avoid Filch and any other teachers who could catch you. You had barely made it through the doors before Sirius began tugging at your clothes, eager and impatient to get them off.

However, as bouncy and eager as the boy was, he practically melted under your touch when you sank into the hot water, scented bubbles making it easy to just sit back and close your eyes for a moment longer than you intended. It didn’t take long for him to tug you onto his lap, his arms locked around you and his head resting against your chest as lazy murmurs and hushed whispers were shared between you.

“I am a simple wizard to please,” Sirius retorted which caused you to snort. You could feel his smile against your skin.

“There is nothing simple about you, Sirius Black,” you murmured honestly and watched as he lifted his head, eyes clouded with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Does that bother you?” he asked, voice thick with doubt.

“Not at all,” you answered honestly as you took his face in your hands.

His eyes softened. “You mean it?”

“I mean it, baby,” you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

SLAM!

“PADS, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN, MATE?”

It was pure instinct and fast reflexes that had Sirius’ body moving before he even processed his best friend’s voice bouncing off the walls of the prefect bathroom. And it just so happened that his instinct was to dunk your head under the water before James rounded the corner towards the baths and saw you situated on his lap.

“James!” Sirius yelled, wincing a little at the volume of his voice but the other boy didn’t even seem to blink an eye at it.

“Listen, I was thinking we could—”

But Sirius couldn’t focus on a word his friend was saying. Not with you underneath the water, pinching at his thigh and most likely holding your breath by your own account since there wasn’t enough time to mutter a spell before your brother barged through the doors. Not when whatever James was suggesting was the last thing on his mind when he could be spending time with you.

It was his justification for the lie that slipped past his lips.

“Hey Prongs, did you ever find Evans? She was looking for you earlier.”

James’ ramble came to a quick stop, his cheeks flushing a little. “She was?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded. “She said it was urgent. Something about Hogsmeade or—”

James didn’t even bother with rambling off an excuse before he was already making his way towards the door. “I have to go! I’ll see you later, mate!”

The second he was out of sight, Sirius tugged you above the surface as you broke through, gasping and coughing a little as you sent your boyfriend a glare.

“Really?” you deadpanned.

“I panicked!” he sputtered out, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Next time, I’m dunking you under,” you grumbled under your breath as Sirius pulled you closer, pressing a line of kisses along your neck and jaw, all over your face until he reached your lips.

“You can do whatever you want to me, love,” Sirius murmured against your lips.

“I hate how hard you make it for me to be mad at you,” you sighed.

“Ah, there’s still resistance? I guess I gotta use more convincing tactics,” the boy grinned as your cheeks flushed in response.

Sirius made a mental note to apologise to Lily later. If he remembered.

…

The fourth time your brother almost caught you two was pure, dumb, sheer luck that James wasn’t the first person to walk through the door.

At this point, you were firmly under the impression the universe had it out for you and Sirius. There were far too many close calls over the weeks that had you on edge when all you wanted was to be with your boyfriend without your overbearing brother hovering around the corner.

And the perfect opportunity seemed to fall straight in your lap when Lily dared James that he couldn’t last a weekend muggle camping.

Of course, in true James Potter fashion, the date only grew more exaggerated and everyone began to get roped into the trip until it was a full-on getaway for the whole group.

Which meant it was a perfect opportunity for you and Sirius to hang out freely for the weekend without fear of your brother popping out of nowhere.

“This is nice,” you murmured, face nuzzled against his chest and eyes closed in content.

“The silence?”

“Being able to cuddle with you on an actual bed,” you answered, lips tugging upwards when you felt his chest shaking with his laughter.

“Mark my words, love,” he hummed, arms squeezing around you tighter. “One day we will be able to do this every day.”

“Every day?” you mused. “Plan on keeping me around that long?”

“Not even gonna let you go when you’re sick of me,” he responded, his lips pressed against the top of your head.

It had been easy to convince the group you couldn’t tag along for the weekend getaway, throwing in that you had assignments and tests and you wanted the extra time to study between quidditch practice and games.

Sirius, on the other hand, had a little more difficulty. There was no excuse that would’ve worked for James Potter since he was a relentless, persuading little shit. So, he had to go to extremes and it was a horrible hour of pain and nausea induced from the potion that convinced James he truly was too sick to go.

It had worn off less than ten minutes after the group left, and it had taken less than five minutes after that for Sirius to drag you up to his dorm and pull you against his chest.

“Can we just stay like this all weekend?” you asked, words slightly muffled as you pressed your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt, his smell overwhelming you in the best way possible—pine, cigarettes and a hint of something sweet, like vanilla.

“If you leave this bed for more than five minutes, I would consider it a failure of a perfect weekend,” he retorted and you didn’t even need to lift your head to know he was smirking.

“Five minutes seems dramatic to—“

“It’s fine, James! I can grab the bag! It’s just one bag!”

“Lily, darling, it could be—“

“It’s a bag of clothes, not bricks. Calm down!”

You and Sirius stared at the door, eyes wide as the footsteps approaching got closer and you barely had a chance to even react before the door swung open. You braced yourself to see your brother on the other side, to see you both cuddled up on Sirius’ bed less than an hour since they had left.

You braced yourself for your secret to be exposed.

But when the door hit the wall, it wasn’t James’ shocked face you saw—it was Lily’s.

You blinked at her.

She blinked at the two of you.

There was a pause as you all remained where you were, frozen in place as she took in the sight in front of her.

“I forgot the bag, it’s only fair that I hold it, darling.”

Lily’s lips parted. “What the—“

“Lils? Is everything okay?”

Your face must’ve shown your fear because she paused before answering, eyebrows furrowed together as she mouthed a ‘what?’ at you. But it took less than five seconds of aggressive, incoherent hand gestures before you finally hissed out.

“James doesn’t know!”

Lily’s eyes widened as the realisation hit her too, with your brother now just down the hall and seconds away from entering the dorm room himself. She threw her hands in the air, glancing around the room before she pointed vigorously at a bundle of fabric lying on the trunk at the end of one of the other beds.

It was a comically short time between you diving off the bed, grabbing the invisibility cloak and scrambling to throw it over your head to Lily turning on her heel, grabbing James’ face before he could even walk into the room and kissing him on the lips.

Sirius let out a garbled noise of surprise, blinking and gaping at the sight of his two friends kissing that it completely washed away the dread he felt moments ago from almost being caught.

When Lily eventually pulled away, she looked momentarily shocked at her own decision before clearing her throat.

“You can get the bag,” she said in a slightly high-pitched voice, patting his chest awkwardly a few times before she slid past him and quickly rushed out the room.

James stood there, staring blankly ahead with red cheeks and parted lips.

“You good there, mate?” Sirius asked cautiously, trying to keep his eyes on his friend rather than the spot where you were hidden under the cloak.

“Yeah,” James muttered airily as he moved to grab the duffel bag lying a few feet away, his eyebrows furrowed together slightly before he walked out the room, still in a daze as he did so.

It was a solid few minutes before you finally shrugged the cloak off, looking at the doorway where Lily and James stood moments ago before turning to Sirius who looked just as shocked as you still felt.

“So…” you murmured, letting out a heavy breath. “Lily knows.”

“I think that’s the last thing on Lily’s mind right now,” Sirius commented.

“I’m almost jealous I’m not gonna be on that camping trip now,” you said honestly, thinking of a million different ways you could thank your friend for helping you hide your secret.

“I’m sure Prongs won’t shut up about it when he’s back.”

“Merlin save us now.”

…

The fifth time your brother almost caught you was most definitely your fault. It pained you to admit so, but the blame was firmly placed on your shoulders.

From the second you and James picked up broomsticks at the ages of four and five, Euphemia Potter had taken it upon herself to set up boundaries so her two highly competitive kids wouldn’t fall into the habit of bad sportsmanship and petty sibling arguments.

And in the grand scheme of things, it worked.

No matter what, no matter the outcome or the plays or the results, you and James had a tradition after every quidditch game you played against each other to keep a strong hold on that tradition your mother set up for you when you were younger.

Today’s game would be no different. The game would play, one team would win and then you’d meet James outside the changing rooms to hangout with ice cream and cookies and whatever sweet treats you could get your hands on.

It had been the tradition for years, and it continued when James became Gryffindor’s star chaser and you became one of Slytherin’s best beaters.

But this game was a little different, not that your brother or anyone else in the school knew. It was different because you were more restless than usual before the game. It was different because what was usually a close game ended up with Slytherin a good hundred odd points clear with their win. It was different because the second the Slytherin changing room was empty, you had dragged Sirius inside without a single care about how risky you were being.

You were riding the high of the victory, body buzzing with need and adrenaline and sinking your fingers into your boyfriend’s hair whilst he pressed you up against the lockers and kissed you senseless seemed like a pretty damn good way to celebrate your win.

“I shouldn’t be this attracted to you when you just humiliated my house out there,” he muttered against your neck, his hands pulling at the quidditch leathers you wore in desperate need to feel your skin against his. “Not very loyal of me, or redeeming for my house spirit.”

“Or maybe you’re seeing that green is much better,” you teased, tugging his hair until his eyes found yours again. “I think you’d look pretty hot with my name on your back, Black.”

“Fuck house loyalty, boyfriend brownie points are more important,” Sirius grumbled before kissing you, hands squeezing your thighs when you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Your hands were already making move of undoing the buttons of his shirt, more than ready to tear his clothes off and have him fuck you up against the lockers just like you had been fantasising about the second you saw his smug face on the Gryffindor bleachers with red and gold stripes painted on his cheeks. You wanted to make him moan and whine and whimper in the Slytherin changing rooms like you owned him (because truthfully, you did and he would have been more than happy to play along).

But that finicky little tradition came to bite you in the ass at the worst possible time.

Three knocks rapped against the changing room door before you heard your brother’s voice on the other side, calling out your name and asking if you were ready.

Your eyes widened, your hands on his chest as you pushed Sirius away before muttering a string of curses under your breath. You didn’t give him a chance to even start panicking before you were shoving him into a locker, slamming the door shut and pressing your back against it before you called James in.

“Congratulations,” James greeted, walking in with a softer smile on his face than most people were used to. “You guys killed it out there today.”

You raised your brows. “You’re not salty?”

“Only a little,” James shrugged with a dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll just have to thrash your ass next time.”

You snorted. “Good luck doing that.”

“You don’t think I will?” James questioned, that competitive spark in his chest flaring a little. And you knew because you were just the same,

“Oh I know—”

ACHOO!

James frowned, eyebrows furrowed as he glanced around the changing rooms. “Is there someone else in here?”

You flashed him a confused look, pretending your head wasn’t beating a million miles an hour. “Hm?”

“Someone just sneezed,” James said.

“Did they? I didn’t hear anything,” you shrugged.

His frown deepened. “It sounded like it was—”

“I think the loss is getting to your head, making you hallucinate nonsense,” you teased your older brother before you waved him off. “Let me just change out of my jersey and I’ll meet you outside in five minutes.”

His confusion was still evident on his face as he nodded, muttering a response before he glanced around the changing room one more time. He shook his head, letting out a sigh before he left the room, muttering away to himself as he did so.

When the changing room doors swung closer, you yanked the locker door open and watched your boyfriend stumble out of the small space.

“Really?”

“I can’t control my allergies, love!”

“Do you think he bought it?”

Sirius snorted. “With your acting skills? Probably not, sweetheart. But you better get going before he gets even more suspicious.”

You groaned but didn’t disagree, making quick move to change out of your quidditch gear—slapping Sirius’ hands away as you did so—before you rushed out to complete the tradition with your brother like you planned.

Sirius snuck out the Slytherin changing rooms ten minutes later, much to the amusement of the students who did spot him.

…

The one time James finally caught you and Sirius hadn’t played out the way you expected, though that was mostly due to the fact he didn’t really catch you at all.

It was a simple miscount and muscle memory that led to your relationship with your brother’s best friend being exposed.

The Potter Manor was not an unusual place for everyone to convene during the summer months. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter adored their children’s friends like they were an extension of their family, and they loved to have the manor bustling with rambunctious teens during the hot, summer days. It made their house feel more like a home.

This year was no different as one by one, each of their friends arrived at the manor to enjoy blissful weeks of freedom and stress-free days before they returned to Hogwarts in the autumn. Sirius was no different, more than eager to get away from his family home and live under a roof he didn’t fear to be himself.

And as much as he adored James and his other friends, he was eager to see you too. It had been weeks of letters and secret calls through the fireplace that had got you both through the weeks apart until he finally visited. He wanted to see his girl but it was truly the universe’s irony that the only time he would get to see you was when everyone you both cared about seemed to be living in the same house.

The first few days had been chaotic in themselves, everyone simply eager to catch up and hang out and sit out in the large garden behind the Potter Manor until the sun had firmly set and Euphemia was calling them all in.

But Sirius was itching to have you in his arms again and you were just the same. So when you had slipped him a note, a number scrawled on the paper of how many doors down your room was from his, he was eager to sneak out that night.

The manor was silent, barely a noise sounded through the whole house when Sirius slid out of his room just minutes after two in the morning. He whispered a soft ‘lumos’ under his breath as he used his wand as a guide, making his way down the hallway with soft steps. He counted each door as he passed them, stopping short when he reached yours.

He quickly slipped his wand into the back of his sweatpants, quietly turning the door handle and opening the door enough for him to slide inside before closing it behind him. The room was dark and even when he squinted, it was difficult to make out anything beyond the bed a few feet away from him with a trunk at the foot and a broom sprawled across the top. He noted the dresser and wardrobe on the other side of the room, but his attention was focused on the lump lying under the sheets.

Sirius smiled to himself as he made his way towards the bed, knees pressed against the mattress as he leaned over to softly shake you. “Hey baby.”

“Pads?”

“James?!”

There was a moment of silence before he heard the noise of sheets rustling and a small click before a bedside lamp was turned on, and he was met with the very confused face of his best friend staring back at him.

“Mate, did you just call me baby?”

“Uh,” Sirius’s lips parted as he gaped at his friend, mind reeling with the stupid mistake he had just made. “I didn’t realise this was your room, I thought it was—”

James’ eyebrows furrowed together. “Thought it was who’s?”

“Mine!” he blurted out.

James blinked sleepily in response, trying to string everything together. “What? Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m not acting weird, Prongs, you are,” the boy scoffed, clearing his throat a little before he took a few steps away from the bed. “Anyways, I’m gonna go to bed—”

“Woah, woah,” James grumbled as he pushed the sheets off his body, moving to stand up too. “You can’t sneak around, call someone baby and not tell me what the fuck is going on? Are you seeing someone in the group?”

Sirius was silent.

James’ eyes widened in delight. “And you didn’t tell me? Dude, what the hell? Who is it? Does anyone else know? Is it Marlene? Mary? Dorcas? Fuck, is it Moony? You two always were kinda flirty—”

Sirius remained silent.

“C’mon, Pads, you gotta tell me!” James whined, though there was an eager smile on his face. “The only other people on this floor beside me and you is Evans but there’s no way she’d go for you, and—”

Sirius flashed a sheepish smile.

“Sirius,” James said in a low voice. “Who’s room were you sneaking into?”

“Mate—”

“THAT’S MY LITTLE SISTER, SIRIUS!”

Sirius winced a little, the words getting stuck in his throat as he extended his hands out towards his friend. But James didn’t give him a chance to explain himself before he pinched Sirius by his ear, dragging him out the room to the one next over and barged inside without even bothering to knock.

You shot up from the bed, your lips parting when you saw your brother burst through the door with Sirius by his side.

“James—”

“Really? My best friend? You’re trying to steal my best friend from me?” James exclaimed, not a single care in the world at the fact it was three in the morning.

You let out a shaky laugh. “That is not the case—”

“And you!” James continued, turning to look at his friend who was trying to soothe his pinched earlobe with a small frown. “How could you, mate! My little sister! You know she isn’t allowed to date until she’s thirty-two!”

You scoffed. “Nobody agreed to that rule.”

“I did!” James retorted, his voice a little high pitched as he glanced between you both. “Merlin, I can’t believe this betrayal.”

“James—” you started but the boy didn’t let you continue.

“A betrayal I say!”

You rolled your eyes, fingertips pressed against your temple as your brother continued to theatrically throw his arms in the air, truly living up to his name as the most dramatic Potter sibling.

“And I thought he was bad when Mum told him she was making Shepherd's pie instead of Sunday roast last week,” you grumbled to yourself, shoving your duvet off before you slid off the bed and moved closer to both boys. “Jamie, it’s really not that big of a deal—”

“He’s Sirius Black!” James spluttered like that was a solid enough reason.

“Yeah, and I love her, mate!” Sirius yelled back.

There was a pause as both Potter siblings stared at the boy with very different expressions, making Sirius squirm a little under the intense focus.

“You love her?”

“You love me?”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius cleared his throat, his hand scratching the nape of his neck nervously. “This wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to say it, y’know?”

Your eyes softened, pressing your lips to hold back the grin that wanted to spread over your face. “I love you too, baby.”

“Bleh,” James gagged. “I don’t know if this is cute or disgusting.” There was a pause. “Yeah, no, definitely disgusting.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled and reached over to whack his arm. “Lily thinks we’re cute.”

“EVANS KNOWS?!”

“What in the bloody hell is going on in here?” A voice sounded from the doorway, three heads turning around to see Euphemia Potter standing there in her dressing gown and slippers, hands on her hips. “It’s three in the morning, why aren’t any of you asleep?”

“They are trying to sleep together!” James blurted out as he pointed between you and Sirius.

“James!”

“Prongs!”

Euphemia glanced between the three of you, looking unamused. “Yes, honey, that’s what tends to happen when you’re in a relationship.”

James blinked. “You knew too?”

“Your father and I had our suspicions,” Euphemia stated with a shrug, though there was a knowing smile on her lips. “I won the bet. Your father thought your sister would have gone for Remus. He clearly never saw the way Sirius looked at her, even when you were all younger.”

Sirius’ cheeks burned but he didn’t deny it.

“I–” James started again but his mother shot him a look.

“Let your sister live, James,” she said in a pointed tone. “I am sure your sister knows how to be safe and use a contraceptive spell–”

“Mum!” you blanched, arms wrapped around yourself in hopes you could curl into your own body to avoid the embarrassment of the situation.

“Oh stop being such a prude!” Euphemia waved you off before nodding her head towards her eldest. “Leave them alone, you can wail about it in the morning at a more reasonable hour.”

“But—”

“Bed, James. Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said and watched as the boy shuffled out the room, heading back towards his room. She then turned to look at you and Sirius, a warm smile on her face. “Whilst I am happy for you both, I don’t want grandchildren just yet.”

Sirius coughed to cover his laugh. “Of course not, ma’am.”

“Don’t be silly, Sirius, you’re a part of the family more so than before now,” Euphemia grinned as she reached for the door handle, ready to close the door behind her. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t shatter you if you hurt my little girl.”

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Sirius admitted with a nod.

“Goodnight. Don’t be too loud, you may scar your brother.”

“Mum!” you huffed, listening to her laugh cheerily as she headed back down the hallway towards her own room. You then turned to Sirius who was already looking at you, something unreadable on his face. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

“You really love me back?” he asked in a soft voice, his hands finding your waist like magnets.

“Of course I do,” you answered with a smile, one hand pressed over his racing heart and the other cupping his face. “You’ve weasled your way into my heart, Black.”

“I intend to stay there for a while,” he told you.

“Good. You can start by being the big spoon.”

Sirius snorted. “Always, love.”

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chishiyasleftnut · 8 months ago

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Hi! („• ֊ •„) This is a long one (divided into two parts), inspired by various bots from Cherubin on Character AI. I hope you’ll enjoy it!!

Stuck With You (part 2)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: Smut. Pairing: Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: After getting separated from Arisu and the others when the King of Spades attacked, Chishiya and fem!reader camps out together on the outskirts of Tokyo.

Part 1 word count: 2000. (Click here to read!) Part 2 word count: 2793. Part 3 word count: 3088. (Click here to read!) 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Drip, drip, drip

You must have cursed yourself when you rejoiced in the lack of rain earlier that day, because when night hit it was once more pouring down. The constant sound of rain hitting the thin, waterproof fabric of the tent, which at this point had been keeping you awake for hours, seemed to have no end.

Perhaps it was the fact that the small two-man tent Chishiya had found at a deserted convenience store (they really sell everything, huh?) was not exactly the best quality, doing little to keep the cold out and heat in that kept you from dozing off. At least it was dry. All things considered, dry was heaps better than wet.

Just as you had decided to close your eyes to at least rest a bit, a loud bang disturbed you as thunder rang through the forest. Instinctively, you grabbed Chishiya’s hand out of fear, not even realising what you had done. Chishiya, who had otherwise been sleeping soundly through the storm, woke up at the sudden contact but didn’t pull his hand away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, still half asleep as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

Not wanting to admit that thunder had scared you, you lied. “Nothing.”

Even in the pitch-black darkness, you could sense the growing grin on Chishiya’s lips. Although he was sleepy, nothing could stop him from being a mild dick to you at every chance possible.

“Then why are you holding my hand?”

Your hand immediately recoiled from his as if he was toxic, instead placing it on your chest.

“I wasn’t.”

“Come on, I’m not stupid. I know what I felt.”

“You felt nothing, okay?”

The sound of Chishiya amusedly huffing air out of his nose filled your ears, but to your surprise he didn’t say anything else for a while. Somehow that was even worse, leaving you no distraction from the terrible feeling of embarrassment that spread from your chest and all the way out to your fingertips.

“It was kinda nice, though,” Chishiya finally said casually, his tone not sounding like a joke.

Your head snapped towards his only to realise your faces were mere centimetres apart. Despite this, neither of you looked away.

“What?” you almost whispered, unsure if you heard him right.

“I said that it was kinda nice.”

Nice? He thought holding hands was nice? That couldn’t be true, Chishiya didn’t seem like the type of guy to get any comfort from physical contact - quite the contrary actually. He had always kept to himself, never initiating any touching with you that wasn’t strictly necessary for survival.

Astute as he was, Chishiya was perfectly able to read the confused expression on your face, somehow almost entering your mind and listening to the little voice in your head that was currently arguing with itself.

“I’m not a robot, you know,” he began with the tiniest smirk on his lips. There was something endearing in the way your befuddled eyes hectically darted around his face to make sense of his words. “Hand holding is nice.”

To your surprise, you felt Chishiya’s fingers inching closer to your body, inviting you to take his hand once again. He didn’t want to just forcefully grab your hand - that would ruin the comfort part of hand holding. It wasn’t long before your own hand shakily moved from your chest and down your body until your hands touched once more.

Slowly, almost as if he was afraid to scare you away with too sudden movements, Chishiya’s fingers perfectly interlocked with yours, squeezing you slightly and running his thumb up and down the back of your hand. It was surprisingly calming. Nice, even.

“Your hands are cold.”

Chishiya continued to run his warm thumb soothingly across the almost freezing skin of the back of your hand.

“Well, it’s cold outside.”

“Still,” he said, his eyes darting from your face and down to your hand. “Do you have any issues with blood circulation?”

You laughed at the sudden seriousness of his question. “What are you, a doctor?”

“Something like that,” he said vaguely with a smile, finding humour in your words that you didn’t get yourself, while his eyes locked in on yours again. You had never really talked about your lives before the borderlands with him. He was way too secretive to let anyone in like that, and you respected it. Getting close with someone in this world only leads to heartbreak. It was better if you didn’t know more than you needed to.

For a moment, the only sound audible was that of raindrops hitting the polyester walls of the tent. However, this time you didn’t mind the silence. For once it wasn’t awkward but actually quite soothing. Even the eye contact with Chishiya felt comforting. It felt so… human?

“You know,” Chishiya finally broke the silence. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes told you that he was about to ruin the otherwise serene moment with some dumb comment. “If you’re cold, you can just move closer to me.”

You almost choked on air. “I’m sorry?”

“You can move closer to me,” he repeated as if it was the most natural thing he could have said. “I’m warm. I don’t mind heating you up. It sure beats having to take care of you when you inevitably get sick.”

For a few seconds you neither spoke nor moved. Did he seriously just suggest that? But then the thought of finally being warm again crept up in your mind. Perhaps cuddling wouldn’t be bad - it was innocent enough, right?

Without saying a word, you moved into his arms and placed a hand on his chest, sighing when you felt his body heat radiate over your stiff and cold body, simultaneously awakening your senses and causing you to become sleepy. Chishiya wrapped his arm around you and pulled you in close as if you had done this plenty of times before.

“You smell nice” you finally commented, still warm and cosy in his arms. Sure, you had been living uncomfortably close to Chishiya for the past week, but this was the first time you truly got close enough to smell him. It was hard to explain what he smelled like. You knew it wasn’t deodorant or aftershave - he had brought back neither from his 7/11 runs - so it had to just be how he smelled.

“Good to know,” he said lowly, pausing for a second before continuing. “You smell nice too.”

Without actively intending to, Chishiya began slowly caressing your arm, tracing his fingertips gently across your cold skin and heating you up. It felt comforting so you didn’t want to point it out and risk him stopping.

“It’s been a weird week.”

He hummed and nodded in response, leaving the only sound in the tent that of heavy rain drops hitting the roof and gliding down the sleek polyester. “It has,” he finally replied.

“If you had told me a week ago that we would be cuddled up in a shitty two-man tent together, I would have laughed in your face.”

“Am I really that bad?” he asked, sounding more amused than offended.

You didn’t reply for a while, mostly because you weren’t sure what to respond. On one hand, Chishiya was a pain in the ass to deal with. He was stubborn, smug, and an annoying know-it-all. On the other hand, you weren’t sure you would have survived if you hadn’t stayed with him.

“No,” you finally replied. “You aren’t that bad. You’re just… you.”

“I see,” he began slowly, carefully choosing his words while continuing to stroke your body with nice, gentle movements. “You’re not that bad either. If I had to be stuck with someone, I’m at least glad it’s you.”

You tilted your head upwards to meet his gaze. Despite how little moonlight that got through the material of the tent, you could still clearly make out the face you had come to know so well. With one hand still caressing your arm, his free hand began trailing up your body to your face where he cupped your cheek, pulling you in close to him until your lips met.

Although the kiss was firm, you could also feel that Chishiya was giving you a chance to back away. For a short moment you considered this possibility: you knew that your entire dynamic very well could be changed if you did this. It could potentially put both of you in danger in the future if you actually got attached. Despite this, you decided to not back away and instead kissed him back equally as firmly, your lips moving in sync with each other.

Slowly, you felt as Chishiya’s body rolled on top of you, pressing you down against the thin and rather uncomfortable sleeping mats that covered the floor of the tent. However, at this moment you didn’t care, not even noticed the uncomfortability of your sleeping arrangements. All your mind was focused on were the sensation of Chishiya’s lips and tongue, and the calming way at which his body weight was grounding you.

As his kisses got sloppier and his hands rougher in their movements around your body, you for the first time felt emotions from Chishiya that weren't just smugness or stoicism. He seemed almost desperate for you as his lips left yours to traverse down your neck, the sound of his heavy breathing filling up the confined space of the tent.

His lips left your neck as he sat up in between your legs and admired the view in front of him. Your hair was spread out wildly behind you, covering the mat; your lips apart and gasping for air; and your chest heaving up and down. Chishiya didn’t look for long before he got to work on undressing you, helping you pull your shirt over your head.

Due to the rather cramped conditions, he had you sit up to undress your lower half, undressing himself as he waited. And there you were: naked and absolutely gorgeous. His eyes lingered on your body and although it was rather dark, he could easily make out your silhouette. You laid back down on the mat, waiting for him to climb back on top of you but he didn’t. Instead, he kept eyeing you over, studying every curve and valley of your figure.

“I don’t have all night,” you joked, using humour to deflect how shy his gaze was making you feel.

Chishiya chuckled, realising that what he was doing was taking longer than he intended to.

“Bear with me,” he said with an obvious smile audible in his tone. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a woman like this.”

“It’s too dark to see me well anyway,” you smiled and wiggled your body a bit to invite him closer. “Don’t leave me hanging, it’s cold laying alone like this.”

Chishiya sharply exhaled air out of his nose at the joke, and gave into your wish. He climbed back on top of you, making you share your combined body heat. His lips began exploring your cheek, jaw, neck, and collarbone before he tried moving further down south. However, he was quickly stopped by the lack of space. After a moment of silence where he tried to change his position around, he finally spoke confidently while laying down beside you.

“Sit on my face.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, shocked by how forward he was being.

“You heard me. Sit on my face.”

After the initial surprise had simmered down, you decided to follow his rather abrupt demand, sitting back up and straddling Chishiya. Slowly, as if you were unsure if this was the right move, you shimmied your body forwards towards his face, hovering your needy centre just above him.

“Sit.” he commanded while hooking both arms around your thighs and putting pressure on them to push you down towards him.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.”

Chishiya chuckled and tried to pull you down towards his face again. “If that’s how I go, then I won’t complain. It beats dying in the games.”

Deciding that Chishiya was serious about this, you obliged, lowering your body to immediately get met by the overwhelming situation of Chishiya wildly licking up and down your wet folds, slurping in the juices your core so politely offered him.

“Fuck, too much,” you mewled, attempting to stand back up again but being held down by Chishiya’s strong arms while he continued to relentlessly lick up wetness.

You closed your eyes to focus on the pleasure aspect while trying to ignore just how overstimulating Chishiya’s quick tongue swirls were. It didn’t seem as if he had any intention of stopping anytime soon, so you instead allowed yourself to melt into his mouth. Relaxing helped, turning the repeated overstimulation into welcomed pleasure, and causing your mewls to turn into moans.

Chishiya’s grip around your thighs relaxed and instead of drilling his fingertips into your flesh, he caressed your skin up and down, only adding another dimension to the wonderful sensation of his body on yours. Too into the way his tongue so precisely seemed to know exactly how to move, you didn’t notice when Chishiya’s left hand abandoned your thigh to stroke himself until you heard him grunt into your cunt.

The combination of his tongue’s precise movements and the vibration produced by Chishiya’s own groans eventually sent you over the edge, making your thighs clamp hard around Chishiya’s face as you came undone on his tongue. Currently having no other options as he was stuck between your thighs, Chishiya slurped up your arousal, gladly accepting every drop your body offered him.

Once your high was over, you let go of Chishiya’s face and fell to the side to lay down beside him on the thin mat, your chest heaving up and down dramatically as you tried to catch your breath. While licking his lips clean, Chishiya sat up to climb on top of you, smashing his lips onto yours so you could taste yourself.

“You okay?” he whispered in between kisses, waiting for you to nod before he lined himself up at your entrance.

Chishiya didn’t waste longer than he had to, sinking himself into you once you had let him know that you were ready. You felt a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched your core to its limit, slowly pushing his entirety into you until his tip leaky hit your cervix, gently kissing it as he paused there to let you get used to him.

The slightly burning feeling of Chishiya’s hard dick stretching you out soon enough got replaced with ecstasy as he rhythmically began thrusting in and out of you. First it was slow, but he soon quickened the pace, making you burrow your nails deep into his back as your mind got clouded by the pleasure he provided.

The thrusts, which had been so careful to begin with, quickly gained strength as he repeatedly pounded against your cervix, causing you to hiss and moan alternately. Despite the pain, you didn’t want to ask him to stop - instead you enjoyed the thought that you would be able to feel the aftereffects of this moment for hours to come.

Just as you felt like you had gotten into a good rhythm, finding immense pleasure in the way Chishiya’s hardness was continuously hitting against your sensitive walls, you felt as his movements became less regular and more shaky.

“Fuck,” he grunted into your ear, trying his best to keep up the losing battle. “I’m gonna… fuck.”

With one final groan, Chishiya’s hips stuttered as he buried his length deep inside of you to empty himself. It felt warm and nice, and although you knew that that meant it was all over, you weren’t upset. Instead, you gently caressed his back, trying to let him peacefully ride out his high. Eventually, he rolled off of you, lying beside you while trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbled out of breath. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s fine,” you quickly said with a reassuring smile. “It was a good. Don’t worry.”

Chishiya pulled you in close to him, wrapping an arm around you and letting you rest up against his chest. For a while, the only sound in the tent was that of heavy rain drops hitting against the roof and your slowly easing breathing.

“You know,” you began with a tired smile. “You owe me a better experience now. Looks like we would have to do this again.”

Thankfully, Chishiya chuckled, and you felt him nod his head.

“We need to sleep,” he whispered into your ear. “We’re taking on a face card tomorrow. If we survive, we can celebrate. I promise.”

[PART THREE HERE]

#aib chishiya #chishiya smut #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya x you #smut #chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland smut #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in boderland x reader

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jolalibrary · 11 months ago

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make me like the holidays

marcus pike x f!reader | marcus masterlist

written for 12 Days of Pedro

summary: you're not the biggest fan of the holidays, so marcus makes it his mission to change that with a christmas market and a gift you have to wear.

wordcount: 3.6k warnings: smutty-themes, a teeny bit of orgasm denial, you consent to wear a vibrator controlled by marcus, vibrator worn in public, outdoor orgasm, christmas themes, marcus being a tease, his dimples, his smile, him.

an: huge thank you to @hellishjoel for asking me to be a part of this, and to @thetriumphantpanda for holding my hand, answering questions about warnings, and reading this as i shoved it at her face.

“So, what? You just don’t like the holidays?”

Snorting, you slide your fork around your bowl, licking your lips.

Because you knew eventually this would come up.

"I didn't... say that," you reply, averting your eyes. Mouth opening, closing again, unsure where to begin.

How to start.

How to begin to explain the odd feeling you get around this festive time of year. How your eyes don’t light up at tall Christmas trees, and instead your heart sinks whenever you see one of those adverts where the family all meet excitedly for the holidays.

It doesn’t matter how you dress it up—whether you hang tinsel or baubles—it always seems like an odd time of year. And because of that, It makes people pity you, aww at you, feel compelled to leave candy canes on your desk and purposefully add you to their Christmas card list, as though it's going to fix the decades of memories.

Placing your fork down, and you sigh. “I guess. I-I just don’t get super excited for it.”

Marcus is already thinking—you can tell.

The faintest line begins to appear between his brows, deepening the more he stares, drowning you in a brown you’re forever grateful to get the chance to wake up to every, single, day.

Leaning across the breakfast bar, he smirks—all devil, no angel. “I think I could change that.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Nodding, his breath dances over your skin—all tantalising—before he softly slants his lips over yours, biting carefully on the bottom of your lip.

“That how you’re going to convince me, Pike—using underhand tactics such as your mouth?”

Snorting, he leaves his fingers lingering under your chin. “That’s a last resort. I think I can convince you in other ways to see how magical it can be with me.”

“You sound very confident.”

He smiles, and it makes something twist inside of you—a worry growing there, planting itself, all ready to grow into something ugly that he’ll eventually see. Be the thing at the top of the list when he inevitably realises he can do better than you.

Stroking your skin, he sighs. Not heavy, nor soft. Something in the middle. “I’m still going to love you if you hate the holidays, baby.”

Smiling, you look down at the counter—the one the two of you eat at whenever you can now, taking what hours you can have together.

“I promise,” he whispers. “But, you think you can let me try and make it special for you? Show you that there’s nothing quite like a Pike Christmas?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a heavy sigh, meeting his eyes—somehow feeling yourself fall even deeper in love with him when you do.

“How can I say no to such an offer.”

Bundled up, wrapped in layers—including his scarf—your gloved hand slides into his, fingers awkwardly trying to find the home between his, almost wanting to pout at the fact you couldn’t feel his palm against yours.

“Comfortable?”

There’s a sparkle to his eye, made worse by the smirk that accompanies it. The one you imagine he’s been wearing since he’d handed you the bag stuffed with tissue, arms folding as he leans in the doorway.

It’s a little bit of fun, he had said.

Your fingers unfold it, unwrapping it free as your eyes immediately land on the box containing the little purple device and its remote.

“I know the season isn’t your favourite thing, but I thought this might make it more enjoyable.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stare at the box.

“Thought it could give you something to be excited about,” he adds, tone shifting—more silky than normal. “Now, whether you’re on the nice or naughty list today, is down to you.”

"Oh, Santa Pike. Please put me on the good girls list."

Grinning, his fingers slid over your jaw as he kissed you, "I think you'd prefer to be on my naughty list, baby."

Now, that same purple, unboxed gift is resting against you, flush. Stuffed and held in position by the underwear he helped you choose—the lace of it keeping it very much in place. And while it isn’t currently switched on, but you know he could change that at any moment—the remote buried in his pocket, all within his grasp.

A thought which makes heat lick up your spine and an ember of worry knot in your stomach—

At any point you change your mind, you tell me, baby. You hear me? Just say the word.

Clearing your throat, you curl into his arm, staring up at him—watching him take in the run of wooden huts, fairy lights and overt cheer.

“Let me guess, you have a to-do list for today?”

Smirking, his arm comes around you keeping you close, before he pinches your side. “No. We’re gonna see what we get up to.”

Squinting playfully, you brush the edge of his stubbly chin. “I’m not buying it. You have a plan.”

Shaking his head, his teeth tease his lip, nose almost flush with yours. “No plan—just want a lovely day with my girl…”

Hovering your lips over his. “But?”

His eyes slowly close, nose scrunching—lips spreading into the biggest, most foolish smile. “We have to start with a festive drink—”

“I fucking knew it, Pike. Fine, come on.”

But, he doesn’t let you budge, not even as you grumble, grasping your hips, yanking you close.

He gives you a look, a pointed one—all accompanied by a grin. It’s all shit-eating, spreading delightfully up into his cheeks. One you’d usually brush over with the pads of your index fingers.

"You don't sound like you're having a good time, baby."

"Marcus..."

You don’t move them this time—leave them on his waist. Feeling his hand slide into his pocket. And you brace.

It’s the only way you’re able to stifle the soft moan which attempts to slide through your teeth and burn the air as it buzzes. Light, but good. Your breath was suddenly a challenge to find, made worse by his watchful stare.

Lashes fluttering, gloved fingers gripping into the side of his jacket as you let your breath paint against his neck. It’s all building—layering itself on thickly atop the earlier ‘testing’ he had done earlier. When you had whined his name, been tempted to shed the many layers and keep warm in an entirely different way with him.

“That feel good?” he asks, low, breathy—only able to formulate a nod.

Then, it stops.

Blinking, your thoughts suddenly cleaner, more appropriate—things beginning to speckle back into your mind.

“Kiss?” he asks, the request falling from his tongue like silk.

“Depends how good the drink is.”

It turns out, it’s delicious.

Marcus had practically whispered the name of the drink he recommended into your ear—having likely noticed the overwhelmed expression slowly etching into your face.

Trust me his expression reads, as if you’d ever trust anyone else.

As soon as the taste of his recommendation met your tongue, your body almost welcomed the season with open arms. Your groan wasn't even buried as your eyes widened at the taste, at him for suggesting it—watching him smirk before he looped his arm around your waist.

“Thoughts?”

Smiling, you almost reply that you like being close to him, preferably forever choosing to be pressed close to him. You find it calming, suddenly no problems ever seem that big when he’s next to you.

Swallowing that, you glance at him, knowing it would be easy to fight the smirk. To act placid, add a shrug, sell it. But, his eyes have widened a fraction, pupils a mere dot in a sky of brown, with the reflection of the lights acting like stars.

The hope etched into his expression is what puts the final nail in your attempt at nonchalance.

“It’s good.”

Brows rising, he grins. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you take another sip. The flavours of the hot chocolate coating your mouth as you slide your arm around his waist. The feel of his lips against your forehead spreading an additional warmth through you, that the drink would never have available.

You’re almost sad when it ends.

Not that he lets you sit in that. Quickly, he takes your cup from you, placing both in a nearby trash can, before he’s pulling you back to him. For the briefest of moments, you just stare, admiring the way you see the outline of yourself in the pool of his eyes, the way you get to witness the way his adoration spreads across his face—all lit up by swinging fairy lights in the gentle, winter breeze.

“Got cream on your lip, baby,” he whispers, tongue swiping across your bottom lip—nowhere close to the site he pointed out.

And then you feel it again.

The thrum which spreads through you, is pressed against your bundle of nerves, making your thighs quake on fixed and solid ground. With the addition of his mouth on yours, the waves lap more feverishly, it all building, all desperate to crash.

Your fingers grasp onto him, teeth piercing into his bottom lip as he kisses you, letting you bury a moan into his mouth—and Marcus is happy to swallow it. Gleefully getting to feel and taste the way he makes you feel as your walls flutter, tightening—wishing for more. Needing more. Almost begging for it when you catch his gaze.

“You know how good you look right now?”

And then it stops. Your breath hitching. Skin prickling with warmth as you let a gasp escape—it weaving into the air, encased in vapour as you blink.

“W-what’s next?”

He grins, it rising up until his dimple appears. His palm flattening to the back of your coat, fingers sliding in pulses.

“Thought we could pick decorations for our tree.”

Brows raising, you turn your head, looking at him, finding him already watching you. Something is spreading in you, a symbolic bandage extending out from his touch to around the places warped and scarred from years of bad memories.

“Our?”

Kissing your head again, you hear him repeat that one word: our.

Just like he had done when he’d moved the last box of yours, you asking whether his place would get your favourite burgers delivered—ours, baby. Ours. It felt it, too. He’d made sure of that. Created space on shelves, and moved ornaments from their homes to allow yours to have a place.

So, it wasn’t out of reach he’d do the same with his holiday, his tradition.

“What if you hate my taste?”

Snorting, he brushes your cheek. “You know I love the way you taste.”

Rolling your eyes, he laughs.

“I could never hate your taste, baby. I love everything about you.” His hand drops, and he takes a sip of his drink as you do the same. “Plus, you chose me. Can’t be all bad.”

He’s kind to you when you’re handling the baubles, even more, when the two of you wander hand-in-hand through tightly packed huts.

Your hands point out things, not just for the two of you, but for others—his parents, a friend. It allows your guard to drop, and your brain to temporarily forget the device resting snugly against the swollen nerves desperate for him—even if you’re aware of how soaked your underwear is. How it clings, how it brushes nicely against you when the two of you walk from place to place.

Marcus becomes less kind when you’re in the queue for a sugary snack, your mouth busy explaining to him where you best think the tree can go in his place—a thing he corrects to ours at every chance he can.

“You almost sound like you’re getting into all of this.”

Smiling, you rest your head against his shoulder in the line. “Maybe it’s the company.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice low, the corner of your eye-catching his other hand sliding into his pocket. “Could be that.”

“Marcus.”

He just raises his brow, a sly smirk passing over him, before you feel him flick it on. “How else are you going to remember that it’s our place, baby?”

Every nerve, the ones previously all frayed, now lit up—just like the tree in the centre of the market. Your mind empties with a press of a button, fingers sliding inside his open coat, grasping for him—for grip.

“You excited about the holidays now?”

Fuck, you hate him, because yes—if it’s like this you’ll forever adore Pike holidays. You’ll wish for them, count down to them on your calendar. Ticking off in red pen, making a point to excitedly cross each one of them off.

Because the two of you haven’t even put the tree up yet.

There’s still so much prep, so much you suspect he wants to replace with good, better—more excitable—memories.

“Bet you’re wet,” he whispers.

And you glare at him, unsure if it’s with adoration or anger. Both merging, swirling—concocting into something you can’t stifle as your cheeks warm and your ears burn. Because there are people around—families, small children.

“Take me home,” you plead. “Please?”

Pressing your thighs together you find only makes it worse. The pulses are far more forceful, and better aimed directly at the already needy parts of you.

The ones which he’s usually so attentive with, barely keeping you like this, all wanting and not satisfied. Marcus barely lets the knot in your stomach tighten usually, but now, you think he’s having fun with it. Likely admiring the way your pupils are swallowing colour and a sheen is crossing over the skin on show. Because you’re warm, too hot— there are too many fucking layers and not enough of him pressed against you—

“Need you, Marcus.”

His fingers brush against your chin, aiding you to take a step forward as the queue moves. “I know, but be good for me.” His mouth close to your ear, hand impossibly tight on your hip—keeping you pressed against him, able to lean, let him take your weight as your legs shake. “You deserve this—”

Your lips part, and all attempts at levelling your breathing fail, falling away from your grip. Feeling the focus on the surroundings fading, black spots appearing—this game of taunt and tease having made you so impossibly shaky on your legs.

And he turns it up.

Moves it to the next one up, an up-and-down kind of vibration. It feels good, but then it lessens—a momentary break, a chance to mumble his name less in a whine—before it returns like a second wave.

It pulsing. Something akin to a rollercoaster, a high and a low—it comes around in slow circles that makes it hard to know whether you’re close to coming or growing more frustrated.

“You want something with chocolate or prefer just sugar?”

You try to speak, mouth moving close to his ear, but only a moan escapes. Low, coming from somewhere deep in your soul as his grip tightens on your hip. The speed slowed for a moment, likely settling itself up to do another build-up.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

Your legs are unstable, more jelly than muscle and bone. It’s all too much, but not quite enough either—just needing that fraction more to stop teetering on the edge and fall over, filling with bliss, and pleasure.

Each time he slides his hand over your hip or back, you have to swallow a whimper of his name. Dangling against the edge, dangerously so—only one little push and you’d be falling, freely, willingly, likely moaning and making an embarrassment of yourself so close to Santa’s fucking grotto.

“If,” you begin, hand to his chest, fingers trying to find skin, something, anything, his still around your waist, practically bruisingly, clutching the many paper bags against you, “we go home now, we might have time to put the tree up.”

You watch him smirk, how it hits his eyes—making the twinkling lights pale under the brightness of his expression.

“Then,” you continue, lips sliding close to his ear, “you can—shit—do something no one has ever done.”

He swallows, loudly—not even swallowed by the choir. “What’s that?”

Smiling, licking your lips. “Fuck me under it.”

Pinching your side, you swear you hear him grunt.

You barely register that you’re being dragged, hip to his, being led—the little device working its magic against your drenched cunt as you pass by choir singers and a person dressed like an elf until it’s suddenly quieter.

Bags dropped to the side of you, back pressed against the side of a hut—the roof casts a shadow over his face, but his eyes still shine. They’re bright and alert. Drinking you in like you’re the only thing that he can see, ever wants to see.

"No one can see us, I promise."

You believe him. It's the only reason you allow yourself to release a pathetic moan before your fingers dig into his pocket. Searching through receipts and his phone, finding it. The thing which weighs more than gold to you, the remote that has the chance to make or break you right now.

It clicks with such ease.

Every muscle in your tightens, your eyes clench shut, all but vanishing winter wonderland from sight and painting a new picture on the back of your lids. Him—naked. Stood all soft muscles and his signature smirk. His room—ours, you hear it in your head, ours baby, ours—surrounding you.

You’re on fire.

Cracking an eye open, finding him watching—in awe, captivated like you’re a sight to behold. And maybe, clutching the remote in your hand, you were. Maybe you were illuminated in a heavenly glow and looking as though you could melt the fake snow around the two of you—you feel you could, anyway, just from the look he wears.

The fact the two of you are just focused, lost in only the other as he keeps you against the side of the empty hut—thankful, happy, that at least one of the stalls hadn’t opened so you couldn’t be heard being held against it, mind being lost to the buzzing in your underwear.

“Who knew you were so dirty?”

“You love it,” you moan, ghosting your lips over his.

Needing a little more, craving a little more.

Please, please, please you think over and over.

He takes it from your shaking fingers, sliding his knee between your thighs—pressing it more defiantly against you, flush, likely feeling the vibrations through his bones as you moan his name. Sketch it into the air, write it there, never wishing it would fade—

More, Marcus. Please, baby. Please.

You’re aching. Your ears flood with buzzing as liquid heat spreads through you when he clicks once, twice—thrice. Landing on a setting he must have seen in the instructions.

And it’s bliss.

It’s mind-melting, muscle surrendering. Your hand cupping the side of his neck, nails digging in, needing to feel him, know he’s there—wishing it was his fingers, wishing he was heavy against you. That weight you crave, that sensation of just him.

Close, so close—

You say it like he wouldn’t know. Like you can’t feel the way he’s looking for signs across your face, likely knowing more about how close you are than you even do. He spends enough time making you feel good. Too good to you, always has been, ever since the moment the two of you met, and you’re grateful, happy, content, fucking over the moon, sun and stars—

“What do you need, baby?”

“You,” you whine.

Just you, only you. Only ever you.

The coil in your stomach tightens, the knot having formed something which can shatter with far too much ease, and it does shatter.

You snap. Break. Fall apart.

He drags your face against his neck, letting you curse, and moan. His name crying out from your lips, until it falls in softer waves from your tongue, splaying across his skin, tattooing him. Squirming close to him, suddenly at ease, shoulders sliding from your ears.

“Marcus,” you whine, differently.

And you’re grateful it stops, him switching it off—a grin breaking out in its wake. Your breath slowly comes back to you, your chest unloosening from trying to bury all your pants.

That’s when you’re finally able to take him in and see the way he’s still staring, so lost in you. His mouth parted, the softest smile trying to stitch into his cheeks, eyes moving around the features of your face.

You just let him stare, and he lets you gaze. Only blinking, letting the rest of the world in when you hear a bunch of kids walk past the end of the hut, loudly laughing.

“I think I could like a Christmas with you.”

Grinning, he pockets the remote, his hand coming to your cheek. “Yeah? I told you I’d make it special for you.”

Nodding, you kiss him. Soft at first, before it deepens, nipping at his bottom lip—finding yourself meeting the hut again, his palm beside your head, able to taste the sweetness of his drink from earlier, the cream, chocolate and ginger—

“I was serious…” you mumble, “earlier.”

Pausing, he lifts his head.

“About the tree, what we could do under it.” Sliding your hand down his front, you cup him, feeling how hard he is, fingers sliding either side of him. “Think you deserve a special day too.”

“Really?”

Biting your lip, you nod, slowly at first—then more purposefully.

“Fuck, I love you, baby.”

an: merry pike christmas ;)

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