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goldfades · 2 months ago

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LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW

part two!!!

for this request!!

─ summary | you and father charlie share a bond that goes beyond the confines of your church duties, with your public image as a nurturing servant masking the frustration and resentment you harbor privately. when nun megan grows suspicious and begins spying, she uncovers the intimate, vulnerable side of your relationship, catching a moment where emotions boil over into something more forbidden

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 6k

─ warnings | few kisses, kinda angsty, pretty wholesome though, nun megan being nosy AF, mentions/descriptions of being longing to be a mother + have a family, forbidden love, ends on a cliff hanger (part 2 coming soon, i just couldn't fit everything in one part)

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! (please do btw i'm obsessed w nicholas LMAO). again this turned out very wordy and self-indulgent, my apologies

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The faint scent of incense lingers in the air, the wisps of smoke curling upward toward the stained glass windows, where muted beams of light filter through, casting the nave in shades of gold and crimson. The church is quiet now, save for the soft rustle of robes and the shuffling feet of the last parishioners as they take their leave. You remain rooted to your spot at the front, hands clasped in front of you, your gaze lowered in practiced reverence.

You’ve spent years perfecting this image—a serene, dutiful figure in service to the church. The warmth you offer is genuine, but it's also an armor, a shield from the world beyond the altar. You can feel their eyes on you as they depart, expecting grace, expecting humility, expecting nothing more than what you’ve always given them.

But beneath the surface, you can feel the stirrings of something else. The long hours, the endless work, the weight of expectations—it grinds against you, slowly wearing away at the image you’ve created. And no one sees it. No one, except him.

Father Charlie stands beside the altar, his back turned to you as he speaks to one of the deacons, his voice low and calming, as it always is. There’s something about him—something steady, something real—that draws you to him. He’s the only one who understands the pressures you both face, the only one who sees through the veneer you maintain for the sake of the church.

As the last of the congregation filters out, a wave of relief washes over you. The doors close with a soft echo, leaving the two of you in the lingering quiet of the empty church. You allow yourself to breathe, to let go of the tightness in your chest. It’s only in moments like these, when the others have gone, that you can finally be yourself—unburdened by the expectations of the flock, free from the eyes of those who can never truly understand.

But you sense it, don’t you? That something else is watching, something creeping at the edges of this sanctuary, waiting for you to slip.

You feel a prickle of awareness, an instinct, perhaps, that you’re not as alone as you think. But you push it aside, telling yourself it’s nothing—just the remnants of the day clinging to your thoughts. After all, in the safety of the church, what could possibly be wrong?

You step forward, closer to Father Charlie, your voice dropping to a murmur. “They never stop looking, do they?”

He turns toward you, and there’s a softness in his expression—something that tells you he’s been thinking the same thing. “No,” he says quietly, “they never do.”

You exchange a glance with Father Charlie, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. He sees the cracks in your facade, the weight you carry, but you don’t speak of it yet. Instead, you let the stillness of the church settle over you like a heavy cloak.

From the corner of your eye, you notice a figure lingering near the back of the nave, her sharp eyes scanning the room with a quiet intensity. Nun Megan.

She’s always watching, isn’t she? Always hovering on the fringes, her gaze lingering just a second too long whenever you’re near Father Charlie. At first, you thought it was nothing—just her usual vigilance. But lately, you’ve felt her eyes more than ever, probing, curious. She’s never said anything outright, but the suspicion is there, woven into every glance, every pause when the two of you are together.

Today is no different.

She lingers by the back pew, her hands folded in front of her, eyes flicking between you and Father Charlie, as though waiting for something, anything, to confirm what she already suspects. You can feel the weight of her judgment, subtle but ever-present, like a shadow you can’t shake.

Father Charlie hasn’t noticed her yet, his focus still on you as he speaks softly, a reassuring tone to his words. “You know we can’t let this consume us. What we do here… it’s bigger than us.”

His words are meant to calm you, to pull you back from the edge of frustration, but your thoughts are already racing. You glance toward Nun Megan again, just in time to see her quickly avert her gaze, pretending to adjust a candle on the altar. She’s watching—of course, she’s watching.

You wonder if she’s been watching longer than you realize.

“I know,” you say, your voice low. But the bitterness creeps in, twisting your words. “But sometimes I think we’re expected to be more than human. How long are we supposed to pretend we don’t feel anything?”

Charlie’s eyes soften, but before he can respond, you see him glance over your shoulder—finally catching sight of Nun Megan. The tension in the room shifts, subtle but palpable. He straightens, his face smoothing into the calm, composed expression he wears so well. “Sister Megan,” he calls out, his voice gentle but pointed.

She steps forward, her smile small and tight, her eyes darting between you both. “Father Charlie,” she says softly, inclining her head in a show of respect. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just… making sure everything was in order.”

Her words hang in the air, innocuous enough on the surface, but there’s something else there, hidden beneath her polite tone. You can see it in her eyes—the doubt, the questions she doesn’t dare ask.

Not yet, anyway.

Father Charlie offers her a kind smile, though you can tell he senses it too. “Everything’s fine, Sister,” he says. “We were just finishing up.”

But even as she nods and steps back, you know this won’t be the last time. She’ll keep watching, waiting for the moment when your guard slips. And when it does, she’ll be ready.

As Nun Megan retreats to the back of the church, your pulse quickens. You’ve held your composure for now, but the unease gnaws at you. The walls feel tighter, the air more stifling. She’s already too close, and it’s only a matter of time before she sees more than you want her to.

Father Charlie steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “We have to be careful.”

You nod, but inside, you know it’s already too late. Megan’s already seen enough to suspect—and suspicion, in a place like this, is dangerous.

───

You lay on Charlie's bare chest, still breathless from the earlier exertion. The warmth of his skin radiates beneath your cheek, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along the scars and soft ridges of his chest. The room is quiet, save for the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the muted sound of your heartbeats thrumming together in the aftermath of what you’ve just shared. The intimacy of the moment feels stolen—like something you shouldn't have, but neither of you can resist.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself sink into the softness of him, the way he smells of incense and something darker, something distinctly him. This is the one place where the world falls away, where the weight of your roles within the church, the expectations, the endless eyes watching your every move—they don't matter here. In these stolen moments, you’re not the pious Mother superior they expect you to be, and Charlie is not the solemn priest. Here, in the seclusion of your shared quarters, you are simply you and him.

He lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers brushing through your hair as if to anchor you to him, to the present. You shift slightly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are softer now, the usual veil of composure lowered, revealing the tenderness he reserves only for you. There’s a question in his gaze, though, something unspoken yet palpable, like a prayer hanging in the air between you both.

“Do you think she suspects?” you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, as though even here, in this hidden sanctuary, you’re afraid to speak too loudly.

Charlie’s hand stills for a moment in your hair, and he hesitates before answering. “She watches,” he says softly, his tone measured but tinged with a hint of unease. “Megan always watches.”

You bite your lip, trying to push away the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. Nun Megan��s eyes have been everywhere lately, her presence lingering in corners, her footsteps echoing in halls where no one should be. You can feel her judgment even when she’s not there, like a shadow creeping just behind you.

“What if she knows?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly. “What if she’s already seen too much?”

Charlie’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your gaze back to his. “We’ve been careful,” he reassures you, his voice steady and soothing. “But even if she suspects, we won’t let her tear us apart. Not here. Not now.”

His words should comfort you, but they don’t. There’s too much at stake—too many risks. And yet, despite everything, you can’t pull away. The bond between you both is too deep, too powerful to sever. You close your eyes again, letting the quiet blanket you both, willing the worries to dissolve into the stillness.

But somewhere beyond the walls of this sanctuary, you know Nun Megan is watching. Waiting. And it’s only a matter of time before the veil of secrecy slips, and the forbidden truth of what you share is laid bare.

The silence between you and Father Charlie feels heavier now, like the air has thickened with all the unspoken words and the knowledge that your time together might soon be fractured by someone else’s gaze. You shift your body, propping yourself up slightly on his chest so you can look at him fully.

His brow is furrowed, but he wears the same soft expression he always does when he's with you, the kind that calms your nerves even when the weight of the world presses in on you. You reach out and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"You can’t be the one to carry all the worry," he murmurs, his voice deep and soothing, laced with that unwavering faith that you’ve come to rely on. He places his hand over yours, his thumb tracing circles against your knuckles. “I can see it in your eyes—you’ve been holding too much inside.”

You want to deny it, to say that you’re strong enough, that you can bear whatever comes next, but you know he’s right. There’s too much weighing you down—too many people to answer to, too many demands, and far too many secrets.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly, the words slipping from your lips before you can stop them. “Not just of Megan… but of what happens if we get caught. What they’ll do to us. What they’ll do to you.” You lower your gaze, the vulnerability of the confession hanging between you like a leaden weight.

Charlie exhales softly, his hand moving to your jaw, tilting your chin up so that your eyes meet his again. There’s something fierce in his gaze now, an intensity that reassures you despite the uncertainty swirling around you both.

“Whatever happens,” he says, his voice firm, “we’ll face it together. They can’t take that away from us.”

“What if it’s not enough?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “What if this… this thing we share, this love—what if it’s not enough to save us?”

The church is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of peace and solace, but lately, it’s felt more like a prison. You can sense the walls closing in, the tension rising between the expectation of holiness and the very human desires you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Charlie shakes his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “It is enough,” he insists. “Love is the one thing that can’t be tainted by fear or doubt. What we have—it’s sacred in its own way. Even if the church sees it differently.”

For a moment, you let yourself believe him. His words wrap around you like a protective shroud, and in this space—this room, away from the watchful eyes of the others—it’s easy to imagine that maybe, just maybe, he’s right. That what you have can survive the scrutiny, the judgment, and the dangers that loom just outside these walls.

But as much as you want to cling to that hope, the doubt is still there, lurking at the edges of your thoughts.

You don’t say anything else, instead letting your head fall back against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you. The sound is calming, a tether to the present, to this moment you share together.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you can’t shake the feeling that time is running out. That soon, Nun Megan will step beyond suspicion and into certainty, and when she does, the fragile world you’ve built with Charlie will come crashing down.

Outside, the wind howls against the old stone walls of the church, a reminder of the world waiting for you beyond this small sanctuary. But for now, for this brief and precious moment, it’s just you and him—together, against whatever comes next.

───

The sun hangs high in the clear afternoon sky, casting a golden light over the open field where the annual church picnic is in full swing. Children run through the grass, their laughter ringing out like tiny bells carried on the breeze, while the adults gather around tables laden with food, exchanging pleasantries and stories. You stand near the edge of the field, watching as a group of children pulls you into their game of tag, their faces lit up with joy and mischief.

You can’t help but laugh, your heart light as you chase after them, the stress and fear that have weighed on you for so long melting away, if only for a moment. The children's energy is infectious, their innocence a brief but welcome reprieve from the gravity of the world you usually inhabit. They dart around you, giggling and shrieking with excitement as they narrowly avoid your grasp, their small hands brushing against yours in passing.

You catch a young girl in your arms, swinging her around in a playful twirl before setting her down. Her laughter is so pure, so unburdened by the weight of the world, and it stirs something inside you—a long-forgotten lightness that you’ve almost forgotten was there.

From across the field, Father Charlie watches you, his eyes softening as they follow your movements. You are radiant in this moment, free from the burden of secrets and suspicion, your face bright with genuine joy as you interact with the children. His heart swells at the sight, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest.

He has always admired your strength—the way you carry so much, how you stand tall even when the weight of your responsibilities threatens to break you. But here, now, seeing you like this, surrounded by children, laughing freely, Charlie feels something different. Something deeper.

It's more than just admiration. It’s a longing, a quiet ache for something more than the life he’s chosen. Watching you with the children sparks a warmth inside him he hadn’t known he could still feel, a yearning for a different kind of closeness. One that he knows is forbidden, yet he can’t help but dream about.

You twirl around with another child, your smile wide as they tumble into your arms. For a brief second, you catch Charlie’s gaze from across the field, and your eyes meet. There’s something in his look that makes your breath catch—a tenderness, a softness that you’ve rarely seen outside the privacy of your hidden moments together. His lips curl into a small, almost shy smile, as though he’s caught himself staring but can’t quite tear his gaze away.

For a moment, it feels as if the rest of the world fades away. The laughter of the children, the hum of conversations, even the sounds of nature—all of it dulls into the background as you stand there, frozen in that quiet exchange with Charlie.

It’s a connection you feel deep in your chest, one that’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but is now rising to the forefront, too powerful to ignore.

The children pull you back into the game, and the moment is broken, but the warmth of Charlie’s gaze lingers with you. As you chase after the little ones again, you feel a blush creep up your neck, knowing that even here, in the open, with the church congregation all around, there’s something between you that no one else can touch.

Charlie tears his eyes away, his heart still beating a little faster than before. He forces himself to join in the casual conversations around him, but his thoughts remain with you, and that moment. He’s always been good at keeping his emotions at bay, keeping his desires hidden beneath the layers of duty and faith. But now, watching you like this, he feels those walls crumbling, just a little.

And for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to wonder: What would it be like to have this warmth—to hold onto it, to let it fill the hollow spaces inside him? What would it be like if the life he’d chosen wasn’t a barrier but something that could coexist with the connection he feels with you?

He shakes his head, trying to push the thoughts away. But they cling to him, persistent, like the warmth in his chest that refuses to fade.

As the afternoon wears on, and the children slowly tire out, you make your way back toward the picnic tables where the rest of the congregation was. Your cheeks flushed with exertion, your hair slightly wind-tossed, and you catch Charlie watching you again, and this time, there’s something in his gaze that makes your heart flutter—a promise, perhaps, or a confession yet to be spoken. Charlie begins making his way over to you, a warm smile on his lips.

One of the little girls run up to you once again, practically tumbling into your arms. You giggle, grabbing her waist and pulling her into your lap.

"Mother Y/N, have you ever wanted children?" she asks.

Her question catches you off guard. The little girl's innocent eyes peer up at you, wide and curious, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. You feel Charlie’s presence nearby, his footsteps slowing as he hears the question, and your heart skips a beat.

You smooth the girl's hair back gently, buying yourself a second to gather your thoughts. Children… it’s not something you’ve allowed yourself to think about much, not with the path you've chosen. Being a mother in the literal sense feels like an impossible dream—something meant for another life, another version of you.

Still, the warmth of the child in your lap, her trust and affection, tugs at something deep inside you.

You smile softly, running your fingers through her hair. “I suppose I have,” you admit, your voice gentle. “There was a time when I thought I might have a family of my own one day. But now... I think my place is here, taking care of all of you.”

The little girl tilts her head, a frown crossing her face as she processes your words. “But wouldn’t you like to be a real mama?” she asks, her small hands gripping your arm as if to anchor you to the moment, to the question.

Before you can answer, you feel a presence behind you—Charlie has arrived. He crouches down beside you, his hand brushing your shoulder in a gesture so natural, so easy, that it almost makes your heart ache.

“The way you care for everyone here,” he says softly, his voice warm and filled with admiration, “I think you’re already a mother to so many.”

You glance up at him, your eyes meeting his, and there’s something in his gaze—something gentle and understanding, but also deeper, more personal. His words resonate in a way that goes beyond the roles you’ve both taken on within the church. For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it—what it would be like if things were different, if you and Charlie could have a life beyond the confines of the walls you’ve built around yourselves.

The girl beams, nodding in agreement. “See? You’re like a mama to us already,” she declares, then wraps her small arms around your neck in a tight hug before hopping off your lap and running back toward the other children, her energy renewed.

You watch her go, your heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. When you turn back to Charlie, he’s still crouched beside you, his expression softened by something you can’t quite put into words.

“You handled that well,” he says quietly, his smile reaching his eyes.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think I was prepared for that kind of question, if I'm being honest.”

He chuckles too, and for a brief moment, the world feels lighter, the weight of everything you’ve been holding inside lifted by the simple connection between you two.

But as the children’s laughter echoes around you and the other parishioners continue with their picnic, you feel the weight of reality creeping back in. This quiet moment with Charlie—this glimpse of what could be—feels like a fleeting dream. You know the path you’ve both chosen is far more complicated than that. Yet, as you stand together in the warm afternoon sun, you allow yourself to linger in this feeling for just a little while longer.

Charlie’s hand brushes against yours, lingering for just a moment, and you know that whatever happens next, whatever challenges come your way, you won’t be facing them alone.

───

The last light of day has faded, leaving the courtyard steeped in a deep, quiet twilight. You stand by the fountain, your fingers tracing the cold, rough surface of the stone. You try to breathe deeply, but frustration gnaws at your insides. On the outside, you wear the same mask you always do—calm, nurturing, and devout. But inside, there’s an ever-present storm, growing louder by the day.

Your thoughts drift back to Father Charlie, to the comfort he offered earlier. His words felt like a balm on your wounds, but they didn’t erase the resentment. The weight of expectations presses on your shoulders—constant demands, endless servitude, all while suppressing the truth of who you are.

Your gaze flickers toward the chapel, half-hoping to see him stepping into the courtyard. But the figure that emerges from the shadows isn’t him.

Nun Megan.

Her steps are silent but deliberate, and her eyes are as sharp as ever. You’ve noticed her watching lately—her gaze lingering on you and Father Charlie, suspicion glinting in her eyes.

“Out late again, I see,” she says, her voice carrying a quiet accusation. She stops a few feet away, her gaze fixed on you, unblinking. “You’ve been spending a great deal of time in Father Charlie’s company.”

You stiffen at her words, but force yourself to remain composed. You know how to wear the mask—how to keep the perfect image intact. “I seek guidance, Sister Megan,” you reply, your voice measured. “Father Charlie offers wisdom.”

Her lips press into a thin line, her expression hard. “Guidance, is it?” There’s no mistaking the suspicion in her voice now. “We all seek guidance, but you’ve been… close.”

The accusation hangs in the air between you, cold and heavy. You feel a flash of anger rise within you, but you suppress it, keeping your voice even. “We are all called to be close to God. To each other, Sister.”

Megan steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Perhaps. But eyes are everywhere. You should be careful. It’s my duty to protect the sanctity of this place.” Her words are a thinly veiled threat, warning you that she’s watching.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension.

“Sister Megan.”

You turn at the sound of Father Charlie’s voice, relief washing over you as he steps into the courtyard. His presence brings with it a sense of calm, as if the storm threatening to engulf you has momentarily eased. His gaze flicks between you and Megan, though when his eyes land on you, they soften.

“Is there a problem?” he asks, his tone neutral, but his eyes hold a silent reassurance.

Megan stands a little straighter under his scrutiny. She hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with challenging him, but her suspicion remains. “No, Father,” she says finally. “I was simply offering our sister here a reminder of her vows. It’s important we maintain propriety.”

Father Charlie’s expression doesn’t change. “Of course, Sister. We all must uphold our vows. You may return to your duties.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you think Megan might push further. But then she inclines her head and turns away, her steps sharp and purposeful as she leaves the courtyard. The weight of her presence lingers, like a shadow refusing to lift.

As soon as she’s gone, you exhale, tension slipping from your shoulders. Father Charlie steps closer to you, his voice low and steady. “She grows more suspicious.”

You nod, swallowing against the knot in your throat. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. The mask you’ve worn for so long feels suffocating now, the weight of expectations unbearable.

Father Charlie’s expression softens, and when he reaches out, his fingers lightly brush your arm. “You’re not alone,” he says, his voice filled with warmth. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

His touch sends a spark through you, and for a moment, the weight of your burdens eases. But as you stand there, alone in the darkness with him, you know that the road ahead will only grow more difficult. Still, with him beside you, it feels less daunting.

You stay silent for a long moment, standing there with Father Charlie. His presence should be enough to calm you, but the weight of your thoughts has become unbearable, pressing down harder than ever before.

“I never wanted this life,” you finally whisper, eyes fixed on the fountain’s surface, the soft ripple of water reflecting the sky. “When I was a little girl, I dreamed of something else.”

Charlie says nothing, letting you speak, his silence a kind of permission.

You take a breath, the memories flooding back. “I used to imagine myself far away from here—away from society, the rules, the eyes always watching. I dreamed of having a family, children running through an open field, laughter filling the air. I wanted to be a mother,” your voice wavers slightly, “to nurture my own, not just serve others.”

The words feel strange as they leave your mouth, like a confession you’ve never dared to speak aloud. Even though you’ve lived in service, dedicating yourself to this life, there’s always been a gnawing ache inside you for something more—something that belonged solely to you.

“I imagined a small cottage,” you continue, your voice growing softer, “with a garden, flowers blooming. Somewhere far from this place, where no one could judge me, where I could be free. I wanted to love, to build a life that was mine.”

Father Charlie shifts closer, his hand lightly brushing against yours, offering silent support.

“But instead… I ended up here.” The words hang in the air, heavy with regret. “I thought I was doing the right thing, choosing this path. I thought it would bring me peace. But it didn’t. It feels like every day, I’m giving up more of myself—burying my real desires so deep I hardly recognize them anymore.”

Your throat tightens as a tear escapes, sliding down your cheek. The picnic earlier flickers in your mind, how for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel happiness. Real happiness. Sitting under the sun with him, laughing, letting your guard down—it had stirred something in you, something real and raw, a glimpse of the life you had always wanted.

“That picnic…” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “For the first time in so long, I felt alive. I didn’t feel like the person everyone expects me to be. I felt like… me.”

Father Charlie’s gaze softens, and he doesn’t pull away when you step closer, his presence like a steadying force. “It’s not wrong to want more,” he says gently. “You deserve to feel whole.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you confess, your voice trembling. “I’ve given up so much already. What’s left of me?”

He lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, and in them, you see the same conflict, the same struggle that mirrors your own. “There’s still time,” he says, his words a quiet promise. “There’s still time to find yourself.”

Tears spill freely now, and before you can stop yourself, you collapse into his arms, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, the walls around your heart crumble, and you let yourself feel the ache of all you’ve lost—the life you could have had, the dreams that seem so distant now.

“I wanted a family,” you whisper into his shoulder, your voice breaking. “I wanted to be a mother, to love, to be loved. But instead…”

He tightens his arms around you, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are loved. In ways you may not see yet.”

Father Charlie holds you close, his arms steady around you as your tears soak into his robe. The dam has broken, and there’s no holding back the flood of emotions anymore. You cling to him like he’s the only solid thing in a world that’s crumbling beneath your feet, each sob rising from a place so deep it scares you.

“I thought… I thought if I buried those dreams long enough, they’d go away,” you murmur into his shoulder. “But they haven’t. They’ve only grown louder. I see families, mothers with their children, and it’s like a knife in my heart. I want that—so much it hurts.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching his face for understanding. His brow furrows, concern etched into every line. “I feel trapped here,” you continue, voice cracking. “I’ve spent my life giving and giving, but no matter how much I give, I can’t find peace. All I ever wanted was a simple life, with love. But instead, I’m… this.”

Father Charlie’s hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “You’re not alone in this,” he says, his voice soft but resolute. “I see your struggle, and I feel it too. Every day I ask myself if I made the right choice. If this is what my life was meant to be.”

The vulnerability in his words makes your breath hitch. You’ve never heard him speak like this before, never knew he had the same doubts gnawing at him. It’s both terrifying and comforting at once—knowing that even someone like him, someone who always seems so sure, is just as lost as you are.

“I don’t know how to keep pretending,” you admit, your voice a fragile whisper. “That picnic, earlier today… it felt like a glimpse of the life I could’ve had. And for just a moment, I was happy. Truly happy. But then it all came crashing back—the guilt, the expectations. The life I chose. It feels like a prison.”

Father Charlie’s thumb pauses on your cheek, and he lets out a slow breath. “I understand,” he says quietly. “More than you know.”

The air between you feels heavy, thick with unspoken truths and shared pain. There’s something unspoken in his gaze, a longing that mirrors your own, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s wrestling with the same thoughts—if his dreams have also been sacrificed for a life he’s no longer certain of.

“I never thought…,” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. “I never thought I’d feel this way, here of all places.”

His hand slips from your cheek to your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. “Feelings are complicated,” he says softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Sometimes, we think we’ve made peace with our choices, but deep down, our hearts tell a different story.”

A silence stretches between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. There’s something raw and honest about this moment, like the two of you are finally shedding the masks you’ve been wearing for so long.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice barely audible. “I feel so lost.”

Father Charlie’s gaze softens, and he leans in just slightly, his face close. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to face this alone.”

The weight of his words settles over you like a blanket, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to carry this burden on your own. Maybe there’s room for something more—something real.

Your heart races in your chest, and you take a shaky breath, eyes locked with his. The closeness between you feels electric, every nerve in your body attuned to his presence, to the quiet intensity in his gaze. It’s dangerous—this connection. You both know it.

But in this moment, it’s all you have.

───

The church bells have just finished ringing, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. You stand outside with Father Charlie, your heart still heavy from the morning’s sermon. The congregation begins to disperse, everyone offering quiet blessings to one another as they leave. You and Father Charlie remain, lingering by the old stone archway. It’s quieter now, the sacred stillness of the church grounds wrapped around you both like a secret.

He turns to you, his gaze soft and familiar, and you can feel the pull between you—stronger now than ever. The unspoken connection that had simmered all week after your vulnerable conversation feels unbearable in its intensity.

“I shouldn’t…” you start, but your words falter as he steps closer, the warmth of his presence radiating into the space between you.

“I know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. But the way his eyes flicker from yours to your lips betrays his struggle, mirroring your own.

Before either of you can talk yourselves out of it, your lips meet in a kiss. It’s soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, fueled by the weight of everything you’ve been holding back for so long. The world seems to disappear—just the two of you in a moment stolen from time itself, as your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

The kiss is both a comfort and a confession, a silent surrender to everything you’ve been too afraid to say. You clutch the fabric of his robe, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solidness of him, to anchor yourself in this forbidden moment.

But then, a gasp—a sharp intake of breath that slices through the intimacy like a blade. You break apart, breathless, and turn to see Nun Megan standing at the edge of the churchyard. Her face is a portrait of shock and disbelief, eyes wide, hand clasped over her mouth as though she cannot believe what she’s just witnessed.

Your stomach drops, cold dread flooding your veins.

“Goodness…” she whispers, her voice laced with horror, “what have you done?”

Father Charlie immediately steps back, but the damage is done. The air is charged with accusation, and you can see the betrayal written across her face. The weight of your actions crashes down around you, guilt mixing with panic.

“Megan, it’s not—” Father Charlie begins, but there’s no stopping her now. She turns and rushes back toward the church, her steps frantic as if she’s running to report what she’s seen, to stop the corruption before it spreads further.

You and Father Charlie are left standing in the aftermath, the kiss lingering on your lips, now tainted with the knowledge that everything is about to change.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nicholas chavez #charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez fluff #father charlie x reader #father charlie smut

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cloudsmateria · 7 months ago

Text

love crushed - cloud x reader

summary: cloud can't sleep with you on his mind, unable to accept his feelings. until eventually you both get caught unable to sleep. confessions occur, seggs happens perchance.

tw: seggs, quite rough seggs

He finally gave up. After hours of writhing in his hotel room, trying to convince himself over and over again, he knew he wasn’t winning. You had been circulating his mind, doing laps, your face crossing his vision every second. Continuously recalling your cut-up face today, panting, exhausted, the way his heart failed at the sight of you. You had no hesitation when it came to saving anyone, even at the expense of yourself.

He groaned, dragging himself out of bed to get fresh air on the balcony. He dragged his hands down his face as he leaned against the railings, looking over Junon. He was being such a fucking girl about this, really. Just a simple crush and it was like he was 14 years old again, getting sweaty hands at the mere thought of you, and yet he still didn't want to accept it, what was right in front of him.

Cloud sighed deeply, resting his elbows against the railings and clasping his hands together. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn't be away from you. Even if you didn’t return his feelings, it wasn't going to stop him, no way in hell, he just needed you by his side, sitting in that bed he was already thinking about knocking on your door just to talk to you and see if you were still okay from that fight that happened hours ago.

"I don't like her. I'm just not used to having new friends," he told himself, the wind ruffling his hair and his heart pounding at the thought of you, eventually shaking his head, that didn't feel right. He couldn't even deny it anymore. "...It's just a crush, I'll get over it."

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

Cloud was already heading to your room, his hand raised to knock on the door before he realised what he was doing. He cursed himself, dropping his arm back down to his side. This was fucking ridiculous, what was he doing? Cloud didn't even realise the way he was acting, but this was unlike him. Normally, he was cool and collected, always had been, but you, you turned his world upside down and he had no idea how to handle it.

"Why am I doing this?" He thinks, softly leaning his head against the door. "She's probably sleeping, why are you disturbing her for this stupid shit?" He asked himself, turning around and walking down the hall towards the elevator. He pressed the button, waiting as he looked back at your door. And you stepped out, half asleep and still in your pajamas, it was so dark you didn't even see Cloud at the end of the hallway.

You shuffled down the hallway. Your head was killing you, all those thoughts that had been swarming you for the past few hours, and now you had a headache. It was a horrible, horrible, night. You needed to go see Aerith to see if she had any healing spells, or Tifa to see if she had any medication, maybe you could go out and clear your head.

You bumped straight into Cloud's chest while you were rubbing your eyes.

"Y/n?"

"Cloud?"

"What are you doing up? Are you okay?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Not trying to sneak out on us are you?" You say, looking up at him, squinting. The hallway lights were bright and you couldn't see his expression properly.

"Just taking a walk."

"Oh my god, that's great. Can I join you?"

"Sure. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you sigh, "I just couldn't sleep, I've got a lot of things on my mind."

"I know what that's like."

"You couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?" You ask, walking next to him as you both go downstairs.

"Not really." You smiled.

"You're never going to open up to me, are you? It's nice to get things off your chest, you know. I'm a great listener."

"You're also so nosy."

"Only for hot, mysterious guys." You giggle, poking him in the chest. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head and trying not to smile, but you notice his mouth twitching and the tips of his ears going red. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Down on the beach, unless you want to go somewhere else?"

"No, it's fine. I love the beach."

"You'll freeze."

"I won't."

"You're still wearing your PJs."

"I don't need a lecture, Cloud."

"Well it's my problem if you get sick, isn't it?"

"That's cute. Assuming the responsibility of taking care of me."

"Isn't that what I'm doing right now?"

"Touche."

You both walked in silence to the beach, the breeze was warm and the stars were shining bright in the sky. The waves were crashing on the shore, the smell of the ocean was filling the air, and Cloud was beside you.

"What's on your mind?" He asked.

"Hit my head when we were fighting earlier, had a headache. And just thinking about some stupid shit that happened years ago, it's so annoying when you can't get things out of your head and you get a headache."

"I get it. I feel the same way. Sometimes it feels like a million things are happening and all at once."

"Exactly."

You were quiet for a moment, listening to the ocean and feeling the soft sand beneath your feet. He turned to face you while you were looking over the water, moonlight softly reflecting in your eyes, lighting up your face. Breathtaking. Although brutally reminded of earlier as his eyes dropped down to the cut on your cheek, the gash on your arm.

"I’m sorry that I couldn't get to you quick enough earlier."

"It's fine, you don’t have to protect me. Just ended up with a concussion."

"Why do you always get yourself hurt for other people?" You laughed.

"I couldn't let Tifa get hurt, could I? She deserves princess treatment. You would know, you have a crush on her, don't you?"

"What?" Cloud choked.

"Knowing a girl that pretty since you were kids? Sounds like a great love story." You were genuinely curious, not wanting to be a homewrecker or get the wrong idea from him at any point. You could get the vibe that she liked him too, that they were flirting sometimes.

"Tifa is my best friend, I've known her for years."

"You guys were arguing like a couple in Nice. Or is it a relationship?"

"We're childhood friends."

"That's not what I asked, Cloud."

"No, it’s not.”

"What about Aerith?"

"Aerith is like my sister."

"Do you have a crush on her then? Is that why you always get flustered around her?"

"Why does it matter? You've got a thing for Reno, don't you?" You burst out laughing, he couldn't help but smile watching you die for a minute straight, until you could feel abs coming through. But he genuinely wanted a straight answer. "Don't you?"

"No?" You snorted.

"Leslie or Tseng?"

"Oh my God, Cloud. You're going to kill me." You laughed. "What makes you think that?"

"You kept calling them hot. The way you look at both of them too. "

"The way I look at him? Are you jealous?" You tease.

"Of course not." He said sternly.

"Why are you getting so defensive, Strife?" You smirk.

"I'm not."

"Sounds like jealousy to me."

"Why would I get jealous?"

"Are you sure you're not jealous, Cloudy? You're getting a bit worked up."

"Y/n..." He mutterest annoyedly.

"You're not denying it."

"What's there to deny? ...Oh, come on. I saw the way you looked at Reno."

"Reno's a pain in the ass. An attractive pain in the ass. But I don't like him." Thank God, he thinks. "What about you then? Aerith or Tifa?"

"No."

"No to both of them?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"Because they're gorgeous! Are you gay?!"

"No. I'm just... not attracted to them. That's all."

"Ok so... not gay, not attracted to Tifa or Aerith." You list. "You have to like someone."

"Who do you like thetn?" I’m not ready for an unrequited confession, you think.

"I asked first."

"Are you 5?"

"We're literally sitting here talking about crushes and you're dodging the question. You’re the five-year-old."

"This is ridiculous."

"Who is it?"

"Are we really going to do this here?"

"Please."

"I like you." Cloud says, finally looking at you. You freeze, blinking a couple of times. His heart sinks to his stomach, knowing he should’ve expected rejection and feeling like a fucking idiot.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Say it again."

"I like you, Y/n. What? Have I ruined everything?" One more butterfly and you would've flown away.

"You don't." You say, trying to confirm it.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"If you're being serious I'm going to do something really stupid."

"Wha-" You grabbed the collar of his vest, pushing his face toward you, lips connecting. His hands find your waist quickly, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. Your hands snake around his neck, running through his hair, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb stroking it. He pulls away, biting your bottom lip, picking your hips to wrap your legs around his waist, panting heavily and taken shocked.

"You have no idea how long it took for me to come to terms with the fact I like you."

“I can’t believe it either.” You smile, kissing him again. “I bagged Cloud Strife.”

“And I bagged you.”

"Let’s get back to the hotel. It’s cold.”

“Almost like I said. And who’s going to be the one taking care of you?”

“It’s almost like I wanted you to warm me up.” You smiled.

…

He quickly had you against the door the second you got in, kissing down your neck feverishly. It was the only thing he could do after you had been relentlessly going through his mind all week. He wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of you.

"Cloud," you moan, pulling at his vest and throwing it off of him.

"What?" He breathes, his hand reaching the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss.

"Do you know how hot you are?"

"Do you know how hot you are? Why the hell are you not naked yet?" He mumbles into your mouth, ripping your shirt off.

"Fuck." You gasp, as his lips travel down your chest, unclipping your bra. "Couldn't even wait to get onto the bed? Ah-!" His nimble fingers came to your breast, rolling the bud, his mouth sucking in your other nipple, tongue swirling around it. You grip onto his hair, your body burning, twitching. He lifts his head, his lips capturing yours again.

"You're beautiful."

"You're making me blush." You breathe, as his finger catches in your waistband, moving slowly.

“It looks good on you."

"Hurry up, please,"

"Begging already?"

"You've had me waiting long enough, I swear-" He presses his lips against yours again, silencing you.

"Patience."

"I can’t." You mutter as he pulls off your shorts and undergarments, bringing his face down, arms wrapped around your thighs to prop you up against the wall.

"Please, Cloud."

"God, I love it when you beg. You have no idea what it does to me." He groans, taking in what is in front of him.

"Fucking do something about it." You say frustratedly, bucking your hips forward to prompt any kind of contact.

"Didn't expect you to be such a brat." He nudges his nose against your clit, making your thighs squeeze, although forced back open by his arms.

"Cloud!"

He licks a long stripe down your pussy, his tongue slipping in. His tongue flicks, making you arch as you whisper his name over and over.

"Cloud, fuck, Cloud,"

"So pretty," he says, muffled.

"More, please."

He takes your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his arms holding you up as you start to shake. His tongue works its way down, sliding in and out, nose pressed deeply into your sensitive bud. It didn't take you long to feel yourself build up to your finish.

"I'm close." You whimper, he feels your thighs tighten, letting your thighs squeeze his head and hang your legs over your shoulder.

"Come on, baby."

You moan as your climax reaches, eyes rolling back, gripping his hair tightly. Your legs begin to twitch, his head lifting up.

"So perfect for me." He hums, standing up, held up by your ass as he brings your face up for a kiss. He brings you over to lie on his bed. He kisses down your body, making you whine.

"What about you?" You ask.

"What about me?"

"Don't you want to finish?"

"You want me to fuck you?"

"God, yes."

"Are you sure you can handle it, princess?" He asks, undoing his trousers and removing the rest of his clothes. “How do you want it?”

"However you want."

"I asked how you wanted it, Y/n.”

"I'm indecisive, I just need you. Do whatever you want, please."

"You sure you're not going to regret that? I won't hold back." He says, kicking off his trousers. You can see the bulge through his boxers, making your heart stop for a minute. "Having second thoughts?"

"That's a lot for my first time."

"You're a virgin?"

"I don't exactly have time for boyfriends when I move all over the place."

"I'll be gentle then."

"I thought you said you weren't holding back." You sit up, watching him as he pulls it out, and kicks away his boxers too. Speechless.

"Only if you had a deathwish." He teases.

"Can I suck it?"

"Only if you promise not to bite."

"No promises."

He smiles, stroking his cock a couple of times, standing over you. He lets your hand wrap around it, guiding you to his tip. You take him in your mouth, his hand tangling itself in your hair, gently guiding himself down your throat.

"You're so pretty." He groans. You swirl your tongue, making him buck his hips slightly, a moan escaping his lips. You hum, sending vibrations down his dick, his grip tightening in your hair.

"Faster," he pleads, thrusting into your mouth, your eyes watering as he goes deeper. "Fuck,"

He pulls out, you lick a long strip down the underside, sucking the tip. You can taste the precum as you go back to deepthroating him as far as you can manage until you feel his balls tighten.

"God, I could cum in your mouth right now."

You can feel him getting close, his grip starts to tighten. He pulls you away by your hair.

"I was going to let you finish me, but I want to hear you scream." He pushes you back down onto the bed, spreading your legs wide open. You can feel the heat radiating off of his dick, as it rests on your pelvis. "You still want this?"

"Yes, Cloud. Please, please."

"Needy thing." He says, leaning down to peck your lips. He swirls a finger around your clit, before pushing the tip against it, slowly running it up and down. He watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, as you grab the pillow underneath your head. He lines himself up, changing his mind at the last second with a grin, rubbing it up between your lips again.

"Stop teasing me,"

"It's so fun to watch your squirm,"

"I'll finish myself off."

"Oh yeah? How are you going to do that if I'm holding you down?" He grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

"I can't wait any longer, please."

"Since you're begging so nicely."

"God, finally." He leans over again, kissing you one more time before lining himself up. Slowly, pushing the tip in, and letting you adjust to the stretch as he stayed there for a minute. He groaned, it was already so tight, hot, wet.

"Fuck... So tight." He mutters, thrusting the tip in. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You twitch around him, and he feels it. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch. His cock filling you, the stretch getting wider, as he slides in completely, the inside of you full.

"Ah- Fuck."

"Want me to stop?" You shake your head. He bites down on his bottom lip. "God you feel so good." Slowly, he pulls out, the head catching on the edge, and pushes in again. The pace stays slow for a while, his hand holding your wrists above your head.

"Taking me so good." He moans, kissing your neck again. You whimper, any discomfort starting to melt away, pleasure taking over.

"Harder, Cloud."

He complies, snapping his hips into you, the pace slowly picking up. You cry out and his hand comes off your wrists to clamp around your mouth before you woke up everyone else, his thrusts turning into a fast and rough pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing through the room. His breath was hot on your neck, panting.

"You want it rough?"

"God, please, yes." He pulls out suddenly, flipping you over onto your chest, your ass hanging in the air.

His hand came to your hip, slamming back into you, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking it back, forcing your back to arch. His pace was brutal, his hand leaving your hip, coming to the small of your back, holding you in that position. The room filled with nothing but the sound of his balls hitting your clit, the obscene wet noise of his cock slipping in and out. You bury your face into the pillow, muffling the noises spilling out of your mouth.

"God, you take my cock so well. Such a good girl." He groans. His pace begins to stagger, his dick twitching inside you. "Can't believe I had to wait this long for you."

He pulls your head back, pressing his chest against your back. He kisses and sucks at the skin of your neck, his hips snapping against your ass, the sound of the headboard knocking against the wall. His hand comes back down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, and it was overwhelming. You felt tears form in the corner of your eyes.

"I'm so close."

"Me too."

"Come on, y/n, cum on my cock." His hips snapped again, and you couldn't hold back anymore. The knot in your stomach released, your legs shaking.

"Fuck." He groans, his hips stuttering and his hand coming down to grip your ass, feeling the convulsions of your body around his dick. "I'm going to cum inside."

"Please."

"You want it?"

"Uh-huh."

He buries himself inside, a guttural groan escaping his throat, the heat of his cum filling you up, twitching, his thrusts slowing, riding out his orgasm. His arms wrapped around your body, keeping you pressed against his chest, as you both lay there, panting, trying to catch your breath.

"Fuck." He chuckles. "That was..."

"Wow."

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"I'm seeing stars, I think. Or maybe I'm in love."

"You're definitely in love." He smiles, kissing your cheek. He thrusts deep into you one more time, his cock sensitive, the both of you moaning. "Round two?" He suggests.

"I'll die." He laughs and pulls out of you, you whimpering at the loss. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him.

"I'll get you a pill tomorrow morning, okay?"

"I have an important question."

He wraps his arms around your waist, his forehead pressed against yours. "Go on."

"How did you learn how to fuck so good?"

"I had a lot of pent-up energy."

"So I was just an easy outlet?"

"Maybe."

"I don't want to hear another word."

"I'm joking. It was pent up feelings, you idiot."

"Or maybe you're just a man whore?"

"No, definitely not. Just pent up feelings, like I said."

"For how long?"

"Like a year."

"That's a long time."

"I know."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you didn't like me."

"Cloud."

“Mm.”

“You’re stupid.”

“I know. We could’ve fucked sooner.”

"Is that what you're really thinking about?"

"Not really. I'm thinking about how good your pussy feels around my cock."

"You're gross."

"You're gross, you made me cum inside you. They're going to give us an earful tomorrow, they definitely heard us." He mumbles, littering kisses up and down your neck again, wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"Guess we better get some sleep then?"

“Anything you say, princess.”

this is my first time writing smut. not sure how to feel about it. maybe a little too fast paced but very fun to write, learnt a lot.

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jobean12-blog · 11 months ago

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The Best First Date

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 638

Summary: You're on your first official first date with Bucky and he has you flustered in the best way.

Author's Note: This is just a little somethin' because I've missed writing this past week with all the Holiday insanity. Also. I LOVE HANDS and hand holding and smiles. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff

Bucky reaches down and grabs your hand, pulling you forward. It isn’t a simple grab. One where he wraps his fingers around yours and simply tugs. Instead, he intertwines your fingers with his and smiles back at you.

His eyes crinkle at the corners and the bright blue color sparkles.

Your heart beats wildly against your chest.

When you reach the table and he takes his hand from yours to pull out your chair, it literally makes you ache.

You scoot your chair in and wait until he sits then your eyes drop down to his hand…the one that just held yours.

“What doll?” he asks.

His question pulls you from your trance and you meet his eyes. His head is tilted to the side and he stares intently.

“What?” you ask in return, feigning ignorance.

He leans back and folds his arms across his broad chest. His biceps bulge under the restricting material of his Henley and you can’t help but stare back.

“I was just wondering what you were thinkin.’ You were looking at my hands like you wanted to cut them off.”

His metal fingers twitch along his flexing bicep muscle and you lick your lips.

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks but you keep your chin up.

“I was just thinking…” you reply.

“That’s what I said,” he teases. “But I wanna know what you were thinkin’ about.”

“I didn’t realize you were this nosy.”

He smiles again. “Well when it comes to the safety of my limbs…” and he wiggles his metal fingers at you playfully, “yeah. I am.”

You giggle, pressing your hands against your thighs to stop yourself from reaching across the table and for his hand again…right or left.

“Well, I definitely wasn’t thinking I wanted to cut off any body parts…if that makes you feel any better.”

He continues to study you. “Tell me doll face.”

“Someone is pushy,” you fire back before picking up the menu and holding it in front of your face.

His long and thick fingers slide over the top of the menu and he pulls it down.

You sigh dramatically.

His eyes narrow and he leans forward, dancing his fingers closer.

“Should I not have held your hand doll? Did it bother you?”

“It definitely didn’t bother me,” you answer far too quickly.

You pull your gaze away and pick up the menu again.

You can still feel his fingers laced with yours, the rough skin of his palm and fingertips pressed against yours. The tingle that started in your hand has now covered every inch of you and your entire body trembles.

“Fine then. Don’t tell.”

He shoots you a smile that’s on the verge of seductive. Maybe even a little smug.

You catch yourself staring at his lips for a second too long and his smile widens.

“Don’t smile at me like that,” you huff.

“So no smiling and no holding hands?” he asks with raised brows. “That doesn’t sound like a very good first date.”

You purse your lips and take a deep breath.

“I like it way too much when you hold my hand and smile at me,” you say quietly but with a frustrated tone.

Your eyes drop back to the menu and you scream internally, his silence making you want to slide under the table and disappear.

The scrape of his chair along the floor makes your gaze fly up as you see him moving around the table until he’s closer to you.

His hand reaches out for yours and he entangles your fingers with his, softly brushing his thumb across your knuckles.

He smiles.

Your heart stops.

“I’d sit right next to ya doll but then I wouldn’t be able to see your face so well and you’re way too gorgeous not to look at.”

@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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multifariousqueer · 1 year ago

Note

starving for jealous Earth 42 Miles

OFC!!!!! Imma do this head cannon style bc why not 🤷🏽‍♀️

A/n: Continue to request stuff for both of our boys! Also I love writing for y’all ❤️

Warnings: jealousy, miles being possessive, fluff, suggestive situations

Jealous Earth42!Miles headcannons

I feel like he would try to be subtle about it but it shows

Definitely makes you wear his clothes 24/7 or makes sure ya’ll match

Makes sure you wear the jewelry he bought you and had it engraved so you’ll know who you belong to. Because, he sees you as his prize, his doll, his special beacon of light and he wants everyone to know that you’re taken

Hates some of your friends because he’s so possessive of you

“Y/n I just think you should drop her” “Why?” “Cuz she hates me and she’s tryna break us up. Also, I hate how she’s so nosy I don’t like that” “Miiiileesss come on, she’s been my friend for two years, she wouldn’t do that"

He had a point tho

He's def suspicious when you hang out with your guy friends(don’t even get me started if you hang out with them alone)

“What do you mean you’re hanging out with him tonight? Nah nah nah I better be there. No quiero que te aleje de mi” “Miles baby, Tengo los ojos llenos de ganas de verte"

“Miles are you jealous?” “no. I just don’t want people to take you from me” “Miles thats called jealousy.” “no its not; jealousy is feeling or showing envy of someone or their achievements and advantages or being suspicious of a partner in a relationship. I’m not suspicious of you, Mami because I know you’re not that stupid and you’re all mine so I have nothing to be envious of” “Damn, you’re right” “what’s new?"

Best believe when you are around people, he will slip an arm around you and kiss you on the temple

Death glares the guy you’re talking to and definitely stands up straighter

makes it KNOWN you’re taken

“Hey man, she’s taken, Aléjate de Ella!”

The guy doesn’t know what that means but judging by the way Miles said it, he knew to back off

I feel like Miles gets hit on by a very select group of people who think they could change him or he could be their “bad boy” but Miles only really has eyes for you

Makes sure he wears his matching bracelet you got him all the time

Knows you won’t drop any of your friends unless something important went down so he just makes sure everyone knows your his

Holds your hand a lot

Will speak for you

“Hey, Y/n wanna go to the carnival on Saturday?” “yeah sur-“ “We have plans for Saturday right, Y/n?” “not for all day tho-“ “I have something planned for Saturday and I’m not telling you the time.” “oh okay! sorry guys"

You hate it when he does that

Thats one of the many reasons why your friends hate Miles

At the end of the day, you still have to reassure him that you’re all his and he’s all yours

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales headcannons #miles x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 #earth42!miles #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman #across the spiderverse fanart #into the spider verse #miles!prowler #the prowler #marvel #for you #spiderverse

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taylormarieee · 8 months ago

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In my Feelings Luke Castellan

Summary: You find Luke talking to another girl and after taking action it backfires on you and now you might lose the love of your life...

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, fire, arrows being shot, hair burned off, threats, Luke being a douche and terrible boyfriend, sad reader, humiliation, drama, anger, reader being a badass, that's all enjoy!

Previously:

He faced your body away from the door and shielded you with his body that way if Chiron came in, he wouldn't see you.

"I got my eyes on you my pretty girl. Won't let anything happen to you baby."

He finally drifted off to sleep letting his dreams flow like a river, a river full of love and happiness.

He finally had a peaceful and loving dream rather than a nightmare. And he was grateful you were the cause of his fantastic dream.

Now:

Three weeks later your walking around Camp half blood and it's cooler than normal. Maybe it rained and brought cool breeze but the sun was still shining.

You were walking towards archery as this will be the first time you go back ever since the "Incident". The incident where that boy came onto you and when your heard Luke confess his love for you offically.

You both were now in a happy relationship that's been going on for a month now and personally, you think it's the best thing in the world.

He's handsome, smart, very sneaky, and a total goofball, but he's your goofball and that's all that mattered to you.

As you were walking towards archery you saw Luke there and your face lit up and you started smiling, but that smile sooned dropped when you saw him with a girl. It wasn't just any girl, it was Candice.

She was a demigod child of demeter, she was also head counselor of Cabin 4. You didn't mess with her or get on her bad side because you didn't want poison ivy in your bed sheets or some type of flower to put you to sleep.

He was laughing with her and she was touching him and was too close for comfort, way to close for your liking anyway.

You felt a little hurt, he never liked Candice, he always hated the way she acted so prissy and stuck-up. Those stuff he told you were clearly lies if he's laughing with her and letting her touch him like that.

You stared at the both of them before Clarisse and Percy came up to you. You and Clarisse became closer friends and you helped her and percy settle their differences, there not friends but they tolerate each other.

"What's up? You look sad." Percy asks, his face contorting into one of worry. "Luke and Candice. At Archery. Look." You say in pieces not even able to say a proper sentence. They both look to where your pointing and see what you see.

You hear Percy sigh and you can feel Clarisse roll her eyes. "Candice was always a bitch anyway, and Luke was too good for you. Let's go, it's almost lunch." She says grabbing your arm to try and turn you away.

You stay in place and look at percy, he has an apple in his hand. "Hey can I borrow that for a second? Thanks." You say not waiting for his reply and snatching the apple from him.

You hear him protest in the distance but just walk closer to the two. "Hey Candice!" you shout not even acknowledging Luke, you were pissed now, but you didn't wanna show it.

A couple of other campers were aware of your presence and were nosy enough to want to see what was happening.

"Oh, hi! What's up!?" She shouts but as you get closer, your nice facade drops. "Hold this apple and put it on your head and stay fucking still, got it?" You demand before finishing off your sentence with a charming smile.

Clarisse and Percy give each other a knowing look and sit back and watch not even attempting to stop you.

Candice, looking like the confused girl she is puts the apple on her head anyway and stands still. You smile at a little girl before asking if you can borrow her bow and arrow.

You get in position and hold it out, but of course you wouldn't be you without a little flair. "Light it up please." you ask politely. Candices smile drops and she gets scared.

Someone rushes over and lights the tip of the arrow on fire and you smile and thank them. "uh I didn't sign up for this." Candice says moving a bit. "Didn't I tell you to stay fucking still? You signed up for this when you decided to flirt with my fucking boyfriend." You snap back.

You ready the arrow and release it causing it to hit the apple but what you didn't expect was for the fire to burn some of candices hair in the back. Luckily Luke put it out with some water. She screamed and stormed off before looking at you one last time.

'She had it coming.' you thought. You looked at Luke, rolled your eyes and walked off before he could even chase you. You walk up to Percy and Clarisse and wrap your arms around them, "Anyone hungry?" You say with a smirk on your face. You and Clarisse laugh and Percy smiles.

It was a couple hours after the incident and Chiron decided to make an example out of you, in front of everyone.

"Y/N Y/L/N and CANDICE CAPONE! Come up here now!" He yelled, silencing everyone and making all their heads turn towards you and Candice. Your eyes darted around before they fall on Luke.

You were still angry but that anger would soon turn to sadness. You looked at Clarisse and then Percy and the Annabeth and lastly, Grover. You smiled at all of them as they had worried expressions because they've never seen Chiron so mad.

You walked up and Candice stood on the other side of Chiron. You two stop in front of each other but looked at Chiron. "You, y/n y/l/n did something extremely unexceptable. You shot an arrow at a fellow demigods head and burned her hair. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He asked

"Yes, yes I do. Candice Capone, I'm extremely sorry for what I did. It was not nice and completely unfair to you. I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't think that was going to happen. So for that I'm sorry. Do you accept my apology so we can put this shit- sorry, this situation behind us?" You said.

You didn't actually mean it but you had to make it sound believable before you get stuck on horse duty for the rest of the week, month even. She stared at you for a few minutes not saying anything.

At that point you got tired of standing up there and was ready to sit down. "I accept your apology but I do have one thing to say to you. That's exactly why Luke doesn't even like you anyway."

The whole room gasps. Everyone literally knows you and Luke are the IT couple, you guys were perfect and everyone kew how much Luke loved you, or so they thought.

"He is so sick of you and your constant complaining, your random outbursts and just the way you always bother him with wanting to do cutesy stuff together. He said your annoying and he wants you off his back." She says with the evilest smirk on her face.

You were on the brink of tears. "That's all, but I do accept your apology because now we're even, you embarrassed me, I embarrassed you." She says before walking away to go sit down.

You stood there in complete shock. You know you shouldn't have believed it but lately the signs were coming back to you. Luke had an attitude with you yesterday because he was tired and you wanted to go swimming, you ended up going with Percy and Annabeth, and Clarisse tagged along for the fun of it.

You watched as everybody looked at you. Your eyes were dark and your expression emotionless. "Hey Candice, when your hairs all gone tomorrow and you can't grow it back, I'm gonna see whos embarrassed now. Watch your back." You threaten.

Her smile drops and you try so hard not to grab something to throw at her fucking face. You loom at Luke and that's when the tears come down. 'Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't. Fucking. Cry.' It repeats over and over again in your head but it's not working.

One tear falls and then you run off before anyone can say anything. You didn't wanna be in your feelings because then you would go into this isolation where you avoided help and avoided everyone.

You hated this and god why'd you have to be such a cry baby. You hated when you got in your feelings.

Why couldn't Luke just say something. ANYTHING! He just sat there, didn't even try to come after me and comfort me and tell me it's all a lie. Instead he sits there like a fucking jakcass and does nothing.

You wanted to drown, get struck by lighting, died in a war full of men or maybe just died in your sleep. Anything is better than this feeling. Anything is better than being in your feelings.

Slowly drowning in a pool you can't get out of. Stuck in a time loop of constant nightmares that fuel your overthinking and negatively shut you down physically and mentally.

'If only there was a way to get out. If only I could stop being in my feelings.' you thought...

Taglist: @elaratckker @lizziesfirstwife @angelicdanvers @prettyinsatiable @angelinajolie0213 @maryann2013 @kneehe-nehar7 @rhydianissuperior @urmomsbananabread @reader-bookling123 @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @csifandom @repostingmyfavs @leo-lvr @glorywielder101 @aanoia @madelainelupin16 @ahh-chickens @callsignwidow @murdrdocs @bright-molina

A/N: i'M SORRY THIS ONE IS SO DEPRESSING STOPPPP! dw though they'll have their happy ending and their happily ever after in the last and final chapter! Love you guys and thanks so much for the support! MWAH💋

~COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE NEVER ASKED FOR BUT MUCH APPRECIATED~

#luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #pjo luke #luke castellan fanfiction #lukecastellan #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst

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imagines--galore · 1 year ago

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Hello! Can I request a fake dating fic with Clark with coworker and best friend reader please :)

Pairing: Superman(Clark Kent) x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Oooooooooooo I ADORE the fake-dating trope! Meep! Also vote for the second part here.

"Your mother thinks what?!"

Several nosy reporters poked their heads up from where they had been working on their latest scoops. Only to be greeted with the sight of you dragging Clark by the sleeve of his shirt and into the empty conference room. To anyone new it would've been an unusual sight, seeing someone as tall as Clark Kent be dragged by someone at least a head or two shorter them him. But the workers at the Daily Planet were used to seeing the two of you together.

Once inside the conference room and assured that no one else would hear you or Clark, you turned you attention back to him

"Keep your voice down!" You huffed, before giving a small shrug. "And its not a big deal."

"A big deal?! Y/n, you lied to your mother." The corner of your mouth twitched and you were unable to meet the disappointed look in his blue eyes. "I didn't lie to her per se."

Clark rolled his eyes, arms crossing over his broad chest. "Well you didn't correct her either."

Pouting slightly you threw him an accusing look. "Yeah well, its your fault isn't it? You shouldn't have gotten me such an expensive gift for my birthday! She just saw the necklace and when she asked who gave it to me I said you did, and then she just assumed we were going out and I.......I didn't correct her." Your voice trailed off, seeing that you weren't really going to win this argument.

At the mention of the necklace, your fingers had unconsciously lifted to run the tips of them along the piece of jewelry that you had taken to wearing since Clark gave it to you.

It was truly a gorgeous piece, and now counted as one of your most prized possessions. Not because it was probably expensive, but because Clark had been the one to give it to you. His gaze dropped to your throat as well, where the necklace lay just between your collarbone.

"And now she has invited us over this weekend to meet me?" Clark confirmed, finally meeting your eyes once more to which you gave a nod. "Well she wants to meet the new beau, her words not mine." You were quick to clarify, your eyes widening in horror at the word that had slipped you. "So you're suggesting we spend an entire evening together, and pretend that we're dating?"

You gave a little flinch. "Sounds cliché, I know." Clark only shook his head. "I should really stop you from watching those rom-coms you're always crying over." He grumbled under his breath. "Too many romantic ideas in your head makes for these kinds of situations."

You bristled. "Hey! I'll have you know I watch classical rom-coms, none of those new hallmark rom-coms that makes you wanna puke." You had a particular taste when it came to the movies you watched, although your best friend's taste was significantly different then yours.

Yes.

Best friends.

You and Clark were best friends who were now being roped into fake-dating. Why? Because you were too much of a coward to come out and tell the truth to your over-bearing hard to please mother.

This would either go really good or turn into a complete disaster.

————————–

A few hours later you and Clark were both at his apartment, sharing the food you had ordered to bribe him further.

"Well I suppose we should start setting the rules and such? At least thats what they do in movies." You suggested, once the Kryptonian had managed to go through half the food. A well-fed Clark was a happy Clark, you had learned long ago.

"Remind me again why am I doing this for you?" He asked, digging into your takeout container to steal one your chicken pieces. You smacked his chopsticks away with your own, pulling the container out of his reach.

"Because I'm buying you dinner here, and also because you love me." You stated in such a off-handed manner as you stuffed your mouth with chicken that you didn't even notice how Clark stiffened at your side at your words.

Polishing off the food you began to speak. "They'll be coming in a couple days, so dress nice, and appropriately. Make sure to wear your coat. I know you have an internal heater given that you're freakin' E.T." You gestured to his overall physique, to which he rolled his eyes at you. "But us puny humans get cold a lot, so coat, hat, and gloves."

"I know, Y/n." He said in an exasperated tone, to which you grinned. You loved messing with him, acting all delicate and weak just to tease him about his strength and powers. It was all in good fun though.

"She already knows how we met, and will probably ask really nosy questions. Dad will just sit there quietly and let her do all the talking. Besides he already likes you so you don't have to win him over." Clark looked up from where he had been pouring himself a drink.

"He does?" You smiled at him. His blue eyes were so hopeful and the smile he wore was so adorable. Did it really matter to him that your parents liked him?

You shrugged. "Well yeah. I mean I did tell him how you helped me out with the stalker situation, without telling him that you were Superman, and he was really grateful. Said it was good that I had someone sensible looking out for me." You poked your tongue out at the triumphant look in his eyes. "I agree with your father, between the two of us one of us should be the sensible one."

Raising an eyebrow at him you leaned towards him, arms wrapped around your legs which you had pulled up on the couch. Your eyes narrowed. "Remind me which one of us flies around wearing a cape and goes around actually looking for trouble?"

Clark gave a smug smile, leaning back against the couch and resting the back of his head on his forearm. "At least I can handle trouble. If I didn't, I couldn't have handled you all these years now could I?"

You scoffed, though you were unable to fight off the smirk that pulled at your lips. "Oh please. You? Handle me? I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Do you honestly need one Kent?"

"I am a gentleman Y/L/N. Of course I do."

"Alright fine! If you pull off convincing my mother we're dating, I'll let you handle me however you want."

Translation: You would do whatever he asked you to do.

"And if I loose, I'll take you up to the Watch Tower again."

"Sounds good! I'm due for a gossip session with Wally and Diana."

He stuck out his hand. "May the best of us win." You grinned, grasping his hand within your own and giving it a firm shake. "Oh, I will."

Clark only smirked. When it came to betting and competitions, you both had rather competitive streaks. Sometimes he would win, and other times you were the victor. It was always fun to one-up the other.

And you had a feeling this little competition would take the cake.

————————–

The day of the dinner arrived, and you spent the entire day pampering yourself. Just because it was a fake dinner date with your parents, with your fake boyfriend, it didn't mean you couldn't be looking nice.

Good think it was a Saturday. You were meeting your parents in the evening, and Clark would be picking you up. You had only just put the finishing touches on your makeup when the bell rang. Dashing to the door, quite the feat since you were wearing heels, you pulled it open.

The sight that greeted you had your mind short-circuiting.

Both of your office attires were semi-formal at best, and at home both of you wore the worst of your clothes. And though the image of Clark as Superman was impressive enough, nothing could beat the sight that your eyes feasted on right then.

You had told him to dress nicely, and clean up. And damn, did he clean up good. Under the winter coat he had on, he was wearing a black suit that was tailored to show off his muscular body perfectly. The shirt under the jacket was a deep red, which actually looked quite good with the black tie. You had a sudden urge to tug him forward by grabbing it, but you refrained yourself.

Little did you know, Clark was battling his own inner dilemma. Seeing you standing there in the dress you had chosen for the evening. Wearing the necklace he had gotten you. You were already beautiful on a daily basis, but right then you looked absolutely stunning.

Managing to come back to the present, you gave him a quick smile. "You clean up nice Kent. Just let me grab my coat and we'll get going." You pivoted on your heel to retrieve the garment, completely missing the way his blue eyes roamed the expanse of bare skin the dress left exposed.

Tonight would be a long night for him.

————————–

"So far so good."

You heaved a sigh as you slumped into your chair, with Clark drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. You mother had gone to the powder room while your father stepped out for a quick smoke, under the pretense of a phone call.

"I now understand where you get your perceptive nature from." He attempted to joke, recalling to all the questions your mother had thrown at the both of you over the course of the evening.

"Yes, but unlike my mother, I know when to stop." You muttered, taking yet another sip of your wine. You had topped off long ago, and were still going strong. You needed all the alcohol you could get when it came to dealing with your mother.

"Well we're just left with dessert." He pointed out as the waiter brought their choice of desserts and left. You didn't even wait for your parents to get back, starting to dig into the chocolate tart you had ordered. Clark shot you an amused glance to which you held out a spoonful of chocolatey goodness for him to taste. He obliged, never once breaking eye contact with you. And the absolutely sinful way his mouth wrapped around the spoon had an involuntary shudder course through your entire body.

The feeling had become rather frequent since the start of the evening.

When Clark had taken your hand to help you out of the cab.

When his hand had rested against the bare skin of your exposed back.

When he had settled beside you and offered you a reassuring smile.

When you had rested a comforting hand on his thigh when your mother's words had become a little too harsh and you had defended him.

When your foot had slid to touch his under the table and had stayed there for the rest of the evening.

When you had allowed your pinkies to touch when both your hands had rested next to one another on the table.

When your eyes had met and he had recounted the time he had first met you. You had never considered the moment from his point of view, and your heart had nearly melted at what he had described.

How he had thought you were one of the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. How he adored the way you were able to call him out on his bullshit. How he could just be himself when he was around you.

It was a pity all of this was pretend.

Or was it?

As he pulled away from the spoon, your eyes drifted to his lips where a small chocolate smudge had remained. You had no idea what compelled you to reach out and gently wipe away the thick chocolate.

Only to bring the digit to your lips and licking it clean.

You definitely weren't imagining the way Clark's eyes darkened, his light blue orbs suddenly taking on a stormy sheen that had you shivering deliciously.

This had to be an award-winning performance right?

Whatever trance the two of you were in was broken by the arrival of your mother, loudly complaining about something in the powder room that wasn't to her liking. You turned your attention back to her, with Clark a little surprised that your mother had been so oblivious to the moment you and him had been having just a moment ago.

Suddenly Clark sat up straight. You frowned at him as he quickly stood and muttering something about a phone call walked out of the restaurant, just as your father returned.

He returned moments later. "I apologize everyone, but Mr. White needs me to cover a story and I need to get going right now." He said, picking up his coat from the back of his chair as he did. From the urgency in his voice you quickly deduced that it was superhero business.

"Well now!' Your mother began indignantly to which you quickly cut her off. "The life of a reporter. Always on the clock." You said with a small laugh as you stood as well.

"Enjoy the rest of the evening everyone. And don't worry about the bill." Clark added with a charming smile. He was doing that on purpose, you knew.

He turned his attention to you and you smiled at him. "Well go do your job then and be careful." You straightened the collar of his coat. He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

Before you could say anything else he quickly leaned down, cupping the side of your face, to press a chaste kiss to your lips. It was a simple brush of the lips, and yet you felt it to the very tips of your toes.

It was over just as soon as it had begun.

"I'll see you later." He muttered as he pulled back before he was off.

You stood there for a few more seconds before slowly sliding into your seat once more.

"I suppose your taste in men has improved significantly Y/n." You heard your mother say. You glanced up at her, still a little lost from having Clark kiss you.

"He's a good one, honey." Your father said gently, giving your hand a small pat.

Just then the big screen television that had been playing some program in the background was interrupted with some breaking news. News that showed Superman and the Justice League fighting yet another threat to Earth.

And while the rest of the patrons and staff clamored to get closer to the screen your eyes never left Clark's face as the camera showed him as Superman, as he rescued civilians.

"He is." You softly spoke, more so to yourself then your parents, as you smiled at the next thought.

Seems he won your little bet this time around.

#superman x reader #clark kent x reader #superman x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman #clark kent x oc #dc #henry cavill

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shiqmns · 6 months ago

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fem! reader that’s best friends with jackie and shauna (like how they are in the show + her) and then she starts going out with one of them (you can decide who) after sleeping together drunk at a party and it’s kind of weird at first for the trio and the change of dynamic but they solve it at the end

Spare the Gory details

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

no crash au! & party after they qualify happens a few days after the game for my own mental sanity..

no smut but suggestive???

title from the butcher by radiohead 😉

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jackie and shauna, only one word to describe them; inseparable. so when you happened to join the mix halfway through their senior year their dynamic was..off to say the least.

you had began getting closer to #6 herself, shauna shipman, you were both nerds so to say who excelled in english—she took a liking to you. now you had known that she was on the schools soccer team, however, you didn’t expect them to be that good. you realized when you had managed to catch a game after one of the longest days of school ever—swamped with homework you decided to take it to the library and that’s when you heard cheers and screams of encouragement, you being nosy as ever went down to the field (homework long forgotten i may add) and managed to catch that nail biting finals qualifying game without even realizing it.

you watch and you watch—cheering every now and then—and just as fast as it started it ended, yellowjackets won! you focus in on #6 herself, seeing how she darts down the field to #9 i mean you had known, (everyone knows) jackie and shauna were the best of friends—voted most likely to stay best friends after high school—kind of friends, it was just common knowledge.

that next week, in english class you’re sitting alone listening to whatever music not even realizing that shauna is speaking to you, “hey—would you wanna go to this party today, the clearing in the woods it’s uh—the yellowjackets celebration party—it’ll probably be lame-“ you cut her off “i’ll be there” you say with a smile—after that party let’s just say the dynamic changed between you and her, it also gave you the chance to finally meet the princess of Wiskayok, jackie taylor. the two of you hit it off instantly (whether it was her actually liking you or the fact that shauna and you were from the same pod didn’t matter) the inseparable two of them became the inseparable three of you!

one random day at lunch you hear the infamous lottie matthew’s speaking about a party at her house, yellowjacket’s and invited guests only, you of course are always an invited guest (otherwise lottie would most definitely get jumped by jackie and shauna), you all agree to go and everything is great! fun even..until shauna (who’s incredibly wasted off of milk and malibu) drags you off to the side citing it as “something about jackie—important—and something else” that’s all you could really get from her drunken slurs, you oblige and she pulls you into one of the many guest bathrooms in the matthew’s estate; and almost immediately she kisses you, you freeze up but after a moment (almost one too long) you kiss back—matching her passion and grabbing onto her waist, you kiss and kiss—running out of air you pull back and dumbfounded mutter a “what the fuck—“ before you can even think to continue shauna’s back pouncing onto you, gripping at your shirt and tugging it off—you help her get out of whatever colored flannel she’s wearing, was she even wearing one?, whatever you don’t care—everything’s moving so fast and she’s down on her knees, she’s pulling your pants down and looking up at you with those big brown doe eyes pleading with you to just let her do anything, and who are you to say no?—

so yeah, that happened. you and her haven’t spoken since you dropped her off after the party. that next english class, shauna doesn’t even show up. she’s not answering texts or calls—and neither is jackie. you think you really fucked up, until you find a note in your locker during passing period reading—in that somehow neat scribbled handwriting—that you know oh so well, “park after school-s”, well now your stomach hurts!

you obviously go to the park—you’d be dumb not to after whatever that hookup was (it was amazing—best you’ve ever had you think) and once you arrive you see #6 sitting on a bench alone. the tension in the air is thick to say the least, neither one of you wanting to talk about what happened a few nights prior but shauna eventually breaks the silence by confessing that she does in fact like you, and deep down you know that you feel the same. the hookup was a last chance to figure yourself out before she left for nationals. you both decide to think things through while she and the rest of the yellowjacket’s play in their state game.

when she comes back you both decide to give whatever this is a try and just see how it goes—promising that if it doesn’t end well that it won’t mess up the friendship between you her and jackie.

however things seem to go fine! great amazing beautifully—whatever you wanna say because shauna shipman is the best girlfriend anyone could ask for.

and yes—while it’s awkward for jackie for a few weeks, she gets over herself and used to it because she can’t stand to lose her best friends in the entire world. plus she’s actually kinda happy that shipman is getting laid now…her mood has definitely improved!

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#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna sadecki #shauna shipman #shauna yellowjackets #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor #anon request #jackieshauna #my fic #lgbtq #jackieshauna i forgot how to write!

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writing-for-marvel · 1 year ago

Text

Blunt Force Trauma

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 6 | Series Masterlist | PART 8 > >

Summary: While out for an unusual date night, Bucky and you witness an emergency.

Warnings: strictly 18+, car accident in which cars plough into storefronts (not involving reader or Bucky), multiple injuries including the drivers of the cars, someone trapped under a car having trouble breathing, description of lacerations, blood, no casualties, Bucky doubting himself and being insecure, discussion of money/disparity in wages, John Walker because he is always a warning

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: a BIG thank you to @skittle479 who gave me the inspiration for this part, I hope I did your idea justice darling ❤️ I apologise if this is a little rusty, I haven’t been writing consistently for a little while. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky usually feels adept and influential sitting in the front seat of an ambulance, uniform proudly donned with the badge above his heart, perched higher than most of the traffic and capable of speeding past with sirens blaring whenever required.

But when John Walker sits beside him in the driver's seat, all he feels is agitation.

“You got any plans this weekend?” His annoyingly snarky voice fills the otherwise silent cabin as they pull up to a red light.

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend to see the new Barbie movie on our mutual day off. And then probably just grab some food afterwards.” Bucky tries keeping his answer short and to the point, not wishing to divulge any more information than he needs to fundamentally answer the question without being rude, nor the giddy fluttering of his heart at referring to you as his girlfriend.

Not only does John Walker have a reputation of doing a rushed job in the field, with somehow thinking his skills are far superior to anyone else in the force, but he is also too nosy for his own good and incapable of keeping topics discussed in confidence to himself.

Steve’s learnt that lesson a few times.

“Dinner and a movie?” The inflection of John’s voice makes it seem like a query, but it’s muttered under his breath in what Bucky would classify as an almost disgusted tone.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Just that… she’s a doctor right?” The intonation of John’s question has doubt settling like led in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. That there is inherently something erroneous about a paramedic like him being with a doctor like you.

“Yes.” He confirms without questioning how John even knows that information given Bucky has never mentioned directly to him who you are or what you do for a living.

“Well don’t you think she’ll be after something a little more… upmarket than dinner and a movie? She’ll be friends with other doctors and surgeons at the hospital, they’ll be able to afford fancy dinners in the best part of town, seeing expensive shows, musicals, operas that cost a hell of a lot more than seeing a movie. Girls wanna be treated like princesses, not some commoner.”

Bucky’s heart drops. He specifically remembers you telling him about how for every date night Wanda and her new boyfriend, an anaesthesiologist, try out another lavishly expensive restaurant in the richest part of the city.

Was that you dropping hints that’s where you wanted him to take you for date night? Is he greatly disappointing you by instead taking you on such a generic date?

He hates to let anything John tells him get under his skin, but maybe he has a good point in this instance…

Of course you deserve far better than something so plain, but Bucky doesn’t have the savings to be able to take you to Michelin star restaurants that charge exorbitant prices for such small servings.

But if he doesn’t do this, at least once, will it be the reason you leave him? Will you want someone who earns more money than he does and can spoil you like the queen you are. He has no experience in this area, no real idea about what it takes to keep a partner happy in a relationship, and he knows John is, at least from the outside, happily married.

“I guess I could try something more upmarket.” Bucky suggests, though he’s not thoroughly convinced. You’ve never once expressed this is something you want, but perhaps it’s one of those parts of a relationship you want the other to take control of without needing to convey out loud. That directly telling him defeats the purpose all together.

He supposes that once you’ve spent a couple months with someone you need to shake things up to keep it interesting. Besides his bank account, there really is no downside to treating you both to an extravagant night out.

“I’m telling you man, you won’t regret it.”

They continue on with their shift in complete silence, Bucky’s mind churning with gears of insecurity and reservation.

He loves you and he sure as hell doesn’t want to fuck this up before he finally gains the courage to tell you.

* * *

“Can’t you give me a hint of where we’re going?”

Bucky’s fingers are interlocked with yours as you casually stroll down the sidewalk. You’re in a much fancier part of town than you’ve ever been to together before, and all of a sudden the informal pink dress you chose to wear to the earlier showing of Barbie Bucky treated you to makes you feel underdressed and completely out of place.

“We’re almost there, but I want it to be a surprise!” Bucky kisses the back of your intertwined hand, but you sense from the stiffness in his broad shoulders that even though he’s by your side, he doesn’t quite feel comfortable here either.

It’s only a short walk before Bucky stops outside a sleek restaurant where a group of smartly dressed patrons are queuing for entry. The waiters are dressed in black pants, white shirts with bow ties, and velvet vests - which gives away how high end the place is before you even have a chance to glance at the prices on the menus.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you anywhere fancier, I know Wanda and Vis keep trying all these upmarket restaurants…” His intentions for taking you to this part of town become as apparent as a lightbulb turning on in pitch darkness.

You place a delicate hand on his cheek to direct his uncertain gaze to your own. He looks like a nervous puppy.

“Bucky, it isn’t how expensive the restaurant is, it’s the fact that we’re together that’s important. You could take me to McDonalds and I wouldn’t care because I’d be with you.” You emphasise the end of your sentence, wiping your thumb across his cheek affectionately as his eyes brim with both hesitation and tenderness.

“Are you sure? Is this one of the things girls say but they actually mean the opposite?”

There have been a few fleeting occasions in your relationship with Bucky where you’ve seen glimpses of an inexperienced, naive and slightly insecure man who is navigating his first long term relationship. This is one of those moments and all you want is to eliminate all wavering doubt swirling in his mind.

It’s honestly endearing how sweet he is. You’re sure the only reason he is anxious is because he cares so much.

“Bucky, who’s gotten into your head?” You ask, shaking your own. You’re sure neither his best friend nor his mother is responsible for this line of thinking. “I promise you, I don’t need you to spend an entire paycheck on a single dinner at a restaurant where I can’t tell the difference between their cheapest and most expensive bottles of wine. And remember I’m only a couple years out of med school, I’m still drowning in years of student loans. All I care about is spending time with you.”

“You really mean that? You’re not just saying that to be nice cause I can’t afford pricey places like the anaesthesiologists and surgeons at the hospital can.” Your heart drops below your stomach. The concept that Bucky thinks you would ever want anyone other than him, simply because they happen to make more money, has the centre of your chest aching and makes the corners of your eyes prickle with tears.

“James, I care about you so much.” You declare, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him gently. “And that has absolutely nothing to do with the number that’s written on the bottom of your paycheck. One of the reasons I initially fell for you was seeing how you interacted with Sasha in the ER - no anaesthesiologist or surgeon I know has shown that kind of rapport with a patient.”

The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth abates the sting punching your chest.

“Really?”

“Mhmm. You’re one of a kind baby. Please don’t you ever doubt that you are the one for me.” You affirm as you thread your arms around his waist, placing a delicate kiss on the underside of his jaw.

There are tears in Bucky’s eyes he’s trying, and failing, to conceal. He looks in absolute disbelief, but as he gazes down at you, you could so easily be fooled into believing there is also so much love in his eyes.

“You are-, I am so-” You wait in anxious anticipation as he stutters.

Is this it?

Is Bucky finally about to say those three magical words you have been dying to hear for the past few weeks? That overwhelming feeling of pure love and adoration you feel for him and so desperately wish he reciprocates.

But before he is able to finish his sentence, you hear a vehicle’s tyres skidding along asphalt and two consecutive, deafening crashes sound close by, startling you.

You feel the ground shake violently and Bucky’s arms instinctively fly around your head and pull you into his chest in what you can only assume is an attempt to protect you from flying debris.

Before your mind can comprehend what on earth just happened and even look towards the origin of the booming impact, Bucky’s set off at a sprint, launching himself directly into action.

Once your brain is able to catch up to what your eyes are seeing - two cars, who potentially swerved to miss each other, ploughed through the shopfronts of two different restaurants only a couple stores away from where you are standing - you feel a surge of adrenaline in your chest and you begin a chase after Bucky, the screams of onlookers the soundtrack as you assess the scene.

You’ve seen some horrible and gory injuries during your time as an emergency medicine resident, but you’ve never seen it as raw and gruesome as you do right now in the field for the first time. It’s dedicated paramedics and EMTs like Bucky who do the initial triage, treatment and transport so that the patient arrives at the ER in the best possible condition. Seeing the carnage here, is confronting.

When you reach the incident, wails of pain fill the air, shattered glass covers the concrete ground and panic clenches tightly in your stomach. You first notice the driver of the car, dazed at the wheel, the airbag having cushioned his impact.

“You!” Calling out to a young man seemingly unharmed but immobilised with fear, you point to him and continue. “Call an ambulance.”

Seeing him fumble to pull his phone out of his pocket, your attention switches back to the inside of the car.

“Sir, try not to move. You’ve been in an accident.” You advise as your hands fly out to keep the man inside the car, groaning in pain as he turns to exit the vehicle. Reaching across him, careful not to move his position or cause him any pain, you put on the handbrake, shift the car into park and remove the keys from the ignition. “I’m a doctor, please try to keep your neck still.”

You do a quick assessment, his breathing is quick and shallow, but most of his impact seems to have been absorbed by the airbag. He has no signs of external bleeding, though you are concerned about internal bleeding as well as whiplash and other head and neck injuries.

“Can you help me?” You ask the man who you had instructed to call an ambulance. He rushes over despite his hesitation earlier. “I need you to keep this man’s head still, hand on either side of his face, just like this, making sure he doesn’t twist his neck. Keep him awake and talking, and scream out to me if he loses consciousness.”

In the chaos and mayhem of the scene you’ve lost sight of Bucky. He’s no doubt somewhere close by providing medical assistance, probably at the other restaurant doing exactly what you are here.

Inside the restaurant the air smells of engine fuel, powdered plaster and metallic blood. It’s encouraging to see those that are unharmed lend assistance to those injured and in pain.

Your eye catches a lady in a blue pantsuit lying on the ground, back against an overturned table, face contorting in excruciating pain as she grips both hands onto her trembling leg. Her suit has ripped open and you can see a long laceration through the muscle of her thigh weeping blood. A man beside her has a look of pure terror in his eye, wavering hands unsure of what to do in this situation.

“Wrap a tourniquet around her leg above the laceration, as tight as you can!” You direct as you notice a patient out of the corner of your eye, closer to the car in far greater need of your assistance, your heart squeezing in terror and the pool of blood growing slowly bigger each second before you get to him. When you see her friend's mouth open in question you continue. “Your jacket, the tablecloth, anything you can tie tightly!”

Rushing over to the underside of the front of the car, you observe a young man in a waiter's uniform trapped between the car, ground and the rubble of the shopfront displaced by the force of the car. Your hands fly to apply pressure on his chest wound, the source of the pool of blood surrounding him.

“Help me.” He wheezes, his eyes dilated, alarmed in a life threatening way you’re unfortunately used to seeing having worked in emergency medicine.

“I’m a doctor and I’m here to help. I know you're in pain but I have to put pressure to quell the bleeding. Try taking a deep breath for me.” He tries to do as you request but all he is capable of is panting in short, shallow breaths. The already terrified young man starts hyperventilating when he realises that he can’t use the full capacity of his lungs.

“What’s your name?” You ask, feigning a calm smile, trying to distract him in any way you can from his current predicament.

“Noah.” He can barely get the sound out, and you intuitively press down harder on his chest, feeling warm liquid trickle through your fingers.

“Noah, I am going to get you out of here. Just hang on for me.” You look around at the resources available to you, stomach churning knowing there’s nothing within reach which can assist.

Your gaze rises to those who still remain in the restaurant, but everyone else is tending to other victims, until a familiar face rushes into view.

“Bucky!” You call out and his eyes instantly meet yours, concern flooding out of those baby blues as he swivels to the sound of your voice. Having him beside you brings a buoyant relief to your chest, despite the gravity of the situation. “We need to get the car off him. He can’t breathe.”

As if Bucky hadn’t heard you, he rushes out of the restaurant. Fear replaces any alleviation you felt, believing you are now truly alone to do what you can for Noah.

You can’t lift a car by yourself.

Especially considering you’ve also got to keep pressure on his seeping wound to ensure he doesn’t bleed out in front of your eyes.

You don’t want to feel completely hopeless with this young man’s life literally in your hands. But unless you get some help soon, you know he doesn’t stand a chance.

“Paramedics will be here soon. Just hang on for me. Keep your eyes open. I’m sure you have someone in this world you love - your mom, dad, maybe a partner, your best friend. They’ll want you to fight so you can see them again. I know it hurts but you stay with me. You got someone in mind?” He nods in response to your question, a ghost of a smile appearing on his features and you know unequivocally this boy has experienced some form of love.

You think of Bucky, that if you were in a life threatening situation, he’d be the one you fought to stay alive for. To tell him you love him. To kiss him again, to hold him in your arms and revel in the solace he provides you.

Out of nowhere, as if your imagination of him conjured him next to you, Bucky appears by your side, sweat mixed with dirt on his forehead. He flashes you his signature smirk as he places a scissor car jack beneath the rocker panel near the front tyre.

He’s an absolute genius.

How did you ever doubt him?

Bucky carefully, yet quickly, starts turning the handle and jacking up the car. You immediately see the alleviation on Noah’s face as he takes a slightly deeper breath, but in turn you need to apply even more pressure to his wound, the force of the car on him having previously done part of your job for you.

“We need to move him, in case the jack slips.”

Bucky steadies Noah’s head as you both manoeuvre him away from under the car by placing a detached, flat tabletop beneath his back. As you perform the action, you hear sirens approaching.

Help has arrived.

“Bucky, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” It’s Steve’s voice behind you, and you sigh in relief at seeing Bucky’s best friend on scene.

“He was trapped under the car, a penetrating wound to the abdomen, crushing injuries to the chest, and a potential pneumothorax. Breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak.” You list off, maintaining pressure on Noah’s abdomen as Bucky, Steve and the other paramedic you’ve seen around the ER shift him onto a yellow spinal board.

You refuse to move from your position as they load Noah into the ambulance, knowing releasing your pressure even for a moment could result in catastrophic blood loss.

Bucky hops into the back of the ambulance behind you, placing a small kiss to the back of your shoulder when Steve isn’t looking. You flash him a sweet smile that makes his stomach somersault and forget for a moment that he’s in an ambulance on his day off.

“Bucky, not in front of a patient.” You bashfully protest, but he just can’t help himself. His chest burst with pride at seeing how natural you were out in the field, saving lives even on your day off.

“Y’all probably saved my life, you can do whatever you want.” The young man mutters breathlessly with a smile.

Though Bucky wants to kiss your shoulder again, you made a point of not wanting him to do so in this scenario, so he refrains. He’ll just wait until you’re alone tonight to show his awe of you, and maybe find the courage to finally tell you he loves you as he was attempting to outside of the restaurant before the incident.

Once inside the hospital, the additional staff ensure Noah can be transferred safely, Steve having radioed ahead so they could prepare for the severity of his injuries. Wanda is one of the faces who assist with the handover, starting a blood transfusion right away before Noah is whisked away towards the surgical wing.

“They’ve got it from here guys, thanks to you Noah should be okay after a fairly routine surgery. Go enjoy the rest of your date.” Wanda comments as she not so subtly shoots you a quick wink. It’s only then, when Bucky realises both your jobs are finally complete, does he recognise he is indeed exhausted.

You turn to him and flash an equally tired smile, which, even in the face of how your night ended up, makes him feel like he’s floating on a cloud.

“Let’s go home, yeah? I’m beat and have to be back here in like 9 hours.” You chuckle and the sound is music to Bucky's ears. He swears that sound alone sustains him.

How did he get so lucky?

“Yeah… home.” Bucky murmurs, placing a kiss to your hairline which Wanda notices out of the corner of her eye with a smile.

You don’t clarify where home is. Your place? His place? You simply take his hand in your own and walk out of the hospital. But it doesn’t matter where you’re going, because to Bucky, home is wherever you are.

Part 8 > >

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

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buff-muffin · 11 months ago

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Random little One piece modern AU thoughts and I guess scenes I had about mainly Luffy

1. Luffy is the best guy to take to karaoke. While he isn’t the best singer he’s also not the worst. However he sings with his whole chest and heart and will sing duets with anyone no matter how lovey or metal. His energy always brought everyone out of their shells he just has a bad habit of singing when it’s not his turn

2. I feel like in a modern AU Luffy would still be friends with a lot of the people he met in series just under different conditions. Like water 7 instead of the mayor almost being assassinated he just. Met him. Like on good terms. idk, maybe Luffy saved tyrannosaurus and now they just exchange animals pics and the occasional “hey I’m heading to insert place where should I go to eat” and Luffy just introduces the Baratie with no heads up to Zeff and Sanji and when Sanji spams the group chat freaking out he just says you’re welcome :D

3. Luffy keeps the contacts of everyone he’s met and keep them under their nicknames. Monster granny, hammock, split head ect. It’s the only way he can remember them after all. When nami had gotten nosy and decided to go through his contacts she obviously asked who tf ice pops was. Imagine her surprise when Luffy confidently answers that it’s the mayor from a few towns over.

4. In a modern AU the ASL brothers were totally still bush kids. Like. Dadan’s (probably community house) was right by the woods and they would have a similar childhood to canon with less killing wild animals. But they also a thousand fucking percent had a Nintendo Wii. Like Ace and Sabo fought tooth and NAIL for player one and Luffy was banished to player three with the dingiest controller known to man (not even the safety strap could protect that thing from getting tossed at the tv) And speaking from my own experience as a younger sibling Ace totally spent a whole summer trying to unlock every character in Mario kart.

5. Law met the straw hats in collage at 2 am when they got kicked out of a bar and he was trying to mind his own business. While they saw him in their intoxicated state and said “you’re my friend now :)” Law was genuinely worried half of them had alcohol poisoning. An hour later he found himself in one of their apartments two of them passed out. One of them throwing up. All while he makes a grilled cheese for Luffy, the so called infamous man on campus who is crying sitting on the floor cause he’s starving. Law stayed the night to make sure none of them drowned in their own vomit and like imprinted baby ducks they have not left him alone since.

6. Luffy has been going to riots and movements for years. He started going with Sabo and Ace growing up when they were teenagers and hasn’t stopped. He also never thought to mention it to any of his friends until they saw him on the news at a protest absolutely fucking SENDING a tear gas canister back at the cops

7. I kinda wanna believe while devil fruits don’t exist in modern AU the character still has quirks semi related to their fruit. Like Robin is just, double jointed everywhere and could bend her arms and fingers in all the worst ways. Luffy can either contort his body to hide in tiny places OR he has stretchy skin. It’s nothing more then party tricks but it is cool

8. Luffy was definitely a gymnastics kid. Not in like. The competing sense. But in like the, one of the adults in his life would drop him off there twice a week for an hour. Did he participate with the other children and learn how to roll? NO! He was flinging himself full speed into giant foam mats and climbing rock walls without a harness. He was a menace to society and he was only taken to blow off some energy and it WORKED. Until he was kicked out.

#you bet your ass I have a list of what every OP character mains in mariokart #if there are spelling or grammar mistakes suck my digital dick #no post time skip spoilers please and thank yall #one piece #one piece au #one piece modern au #Luffy favouritism #luffy #monkey d. luffy #asl brothers #trafalgar law #I know little to nothing about that man yet here I am #headcanon #sorta?#rambles

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shares-a-vest · 9 months ago

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@flufftober Spring Edition Day 3: Spring Cleaning

wc: 518 | Rated: T for Canon-Typical swearing and language | cw: None

Tags: Spring Cleaning, Eddie Munson is a Menace, Steddie Dads, Discarded Toys, Childhood Toys

'Goodbye, Mr. Furby'

Steve opens his daughter’s double-doored closet only to be greeted by her demonic Furby. A formerly beloved and sought-after plushie that also terrorised the family with late-night chirping for far too long until he had worked out how to remove the batteries.

He shudders at the thought of the manual Eddie had managed to track down, filled with faceless Furbys being exorcised and deprogrammed. He reaches forward with giddy glee and plucks the toy from its quiet resting spot.

“We can finally get rid of this thing,” he beams, turning to Eddie who lingers at the door, “Goodbye, Mr. Furby.”

“That’s Abernathy Furby, to you,” Eddie quips, frowning.

He takes a swipe for the toy but misses when Steve swoops his arm out of reach.

Eddie stumbles back in, clutching his proverbial pearls and his eyes glisten with worry. He stands there shellshocked, utterly scandalised by the prospect of cleaning out this mess of an apartment.

Steve knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He had to gently suggest such a task throughout the winter months, exercising pain-staking patience until Eddie and Joanie would at least hear him out.

“Eddie,” Steve begins, pinching his nose with his free hand, “You promised you’d let me do some Spring Cleaning this weekend. Besides, you hate this thing as much as I do.”

He plays keep-away just to be safe, watching his partner intently as he palms around to open the designated donation box he hopes to fill today.

“Adios,” Steve grins, taking one last look into the soulless, mechanical eyes of the plush before he drops it into the dark abyss of the labelled cardboard box.

That cursed thing can be some other parent’s problem...

“What’s happening?” Joanie yells, poking her head in from the hall.

Steve freezes, his arm now midway between reaching back into her closet for another forgotten toy – this time a grey tabby cat that got chewed up by a very real cat mere moments after Nancy had gifted it back when Joanie was two.

He glances at Eddie for backup, only to be met with a raised, judgemental brow. His partner pointedly folds his arms and leans against the doorframe in defiance.

Steve can’t help but roll his eyes at himself because, yeah – of course, his family would put on a united front against him. And he was foolish to think Joanie’s homework obligations would outweigh her infinite curiosity that borders on nosiness.

“Uh…” he hums, floundering immediately as his heart races a mile a minute.

He watches as his daughter walks to the box and peers inside. She gasps and dives in head first, her haste almost tipping her into the box completely.

“Not Abernathy!” she shrieks, holding the demon spawn up as she rocks herself and the box back upright.

The toy chirps and blinks away earning a high-pitched yelp from Eddie.

“St-Steve...” he stutters, whimpering as he points a shaking hand at the sentient being.

Steve grimaces at the toy held firm in his daughter’s grasp, looking like it has risen from a cardboard grave, readying itself for the kill.

#fluffspring2024 #day 3 #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie dads #steddie as girl-dads #steddie ficlet

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ofmermaidstories · 2 months ago

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Bad day for nosy people who need to know what old fandom is 👀👀

lmao, i’m trying to talk myself out of it so that i don’t turn my current WIP list upside down on itself but. 🥹 i fear it has very powerful claws. 🦞 i’ve been mulling over like, why it ([Old Fandom]) is so attractive to me right now and i think it’s a combination of a few things!! like, one is the fact that i never originally left it by choice—real life kinda forced me away from my hobbies, and by the time i could circle back again, the fandom had died (i find it really interesting that so many modern fandoms don’t have staying power, but that’s a different discussion) and i was interested in different things. but now it’s seeing a revival and i’m remembering how much i loved it and how i never really… got closure for it, LOL, as silly as that sounds. 🥹 i never finished any of my ideas. 🥺 i went back into my old account actually, like a couple of weeks ago, and went through my fic drafts i had at the time and it—idk. i guess it just made me nostalgic. 🥹 it’s different, tonally, to what we do here in the bnha/x reader niche!! and it makes me itchy. 🥹😩 god!! so itchy. i wanna dig my fingers into it and move things around. dig it up from the garden. perform necromancy on the lover that doesn’t even know they’re dead, and blinks and finds themselves sitting in the same old kitchen with a cup of coffee in their hand. 🥹🥹🥹 i’m better equipped now—i know how to keep myself interested in long-term projects, how to finish them and, most importantly, what i like.

there’s a lot of stuff i like to write that i just don’t, here in our niche. either because it doesn’t fit in with the bnha world or just doesn’t like… suit the x reader POV. and that’s on me LOL, a better (or maybe more determined) writer could make all those things work, but part of what i like about bnha and x reader and [old fandom] is that they’re distinct—they all feel different. i wrote a lot before i got here!! i wrote so much. i wrote so much that i like, kinda burnt myself out on it LMAOO. there were tropes i liked and settings and tricks i used all the time that after a while they got boring to me. 🥹 and now after a million years of doing something different, i’ve realised—oh. i really liked all that. 🥹 i really like it, still.

idk!! idk. part of not naming the fandom is also because i haven’t decided if i wanna jump back in or not lmao. do i do it, knowing it’ll slow everything up even more? we tell ourselves all the time here in fandom circles that it’s just fanfic/fanart! you’re here to have fun! if it gets hard or boring or you wanna try something new—drop it! do it! you don’t owe anybody anything!! which is all very true yes sure. except i, me, mermie, want to finish things. i want the satisfaction of finishing the IAL series. im actually very proud of the fics, and while i know i will finish shouto’s (barring being kidnapped by pirates or aliens or death himself ig 💀), i also know im a slow writer, and that letting myself deviate off path into a completely different fandom will make me slower. 🥹 so idk. i guess ive just been ruminating on fiddly details like that LOL. also i don’t have a solid plot in mind yet (even tho i have a general gist of what i want) so that’s also probably the main leash rn LMAOOO. tbh if i get one im going in swinging, fist first, so let’s all hope that i remain idealess on that front lest the demons take me. 🥹🙏🏽

#ofmermaidstories-asks #sorry anon—i used ur ask as a chance to talk about this bc ive been dying to 😩😭#i cannot emphasise how much this is getting to me LMAOOO #what’s the lyric?#just know that if you hide—it doesn’t go away 🎶

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to-thelakes · 9 months ago

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built to fall (5)

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

series summary; after having a rough month, the feelings that you had been harbouring for your co-worker finally come to the surface

series warnings; fluff, hurt/comfort, smut (later on), mutual pining, discussions of mental health, reader gets drunk, vomiting, suggestive themes, sexual tension, cases that the bau work are also mentioned so the usual warnings for the show apply

warnings for this part; MDNI (minors do not interact) sexual content, fluff, tired reader, tired team, jj being nosy (we love her), smut, fingering, squirting, praise kink, soft!dom luke, self-indulgent smut, needy reader

notes; okay, hello my lovelies, i'm literally just dropping this and then crawling back into my hole because i woke up feeling atrociously tired and worse than i have since i got the flu in december, i will save you from the grim details but safe to say, i'm exhausted, but i gave this a little edit this morning and it's literally just self-indulgent smut and like just a little hint of what is gonna come for these two, we get a very very small smidge of luke worshipping reader hehe. like this is written entirely to my taste so whoops but anyway, i hope you enjoy <3

tags; @smurfenijsje12 @xoxomoonlightbabe

ao3 / masterlist

previous chapter

You were the last one to arriveto the jet after you had to stop off at your apartment to get a to-go bag together. You had rushed around like a headless chicken, regretting not being more prepared for this but it served as a good distraction from the wetness between your legs.

By the time that you had clambered aboard the jet and dropped into the seat beside Emily, you had completely forgotten about the ache that Luke had left behind. Then when Emily began to talk you through the case, any arousal that still lingered was squashed. It was hard to think about how much you needed Luke when you were staring at pictures of mangled corpses. Really, your job was the biggest buzzkill.

Garcia popped up on the scene as the jet took off and the usual routine ensued. You discussed the case and came up with any preliminary theories before Emily told you where all of you needed to go when you landed. And you weren’t entirely sure if it was a curse or a blessing that she sent you and Luke to assess the latest crime scene.

Part of you was glad to spend the time with Luke but the other part of you didn’t want to have to try and keep your composure around him because you knew that would basically be impossible.

However, you kept your mouth shut and the team then split off to do their own private theorizing and reading of the case file or just take a short nap before you landed. That meant that everyone was sufficiently distracted enough for JJ to quiz you about your late appearance and what Garcia had told her about you being at Luke’s.

“You got something you wanna tell me?” JJ asked, cocking an eyebrow with a wry grin on her face. You looked up from the casefile, furrowing your eyebrows as you ran through every possible scenario that she could be talking about. At first you assumed it was something about the case but then you caught how her eyes drifted to the mark on your neck.

The mark that you had forgotten Luke had left on you.

“I stayed at his place,” You shrugged, looking back down at your casefile. You wanted to talk to JJ about it but also you didn’t want the entire team knowing your business. You and Luke had just spent the weekend together and you hadn’t even discussed what the two of you were. For now, it was simply the two of you enjoying each other’s company in a less than conventional way.

“You just stayed over?” She asked. You glanced around and noticed how Luke’s gaze had lifted. He had clearly caught on to you and JJ’s whispering and you sent him a smile but that just made him lift an eyebrow.

“Yeah, stayed over, met Roxy, we went on a few walks and he cooked for me,” You forced your gaze away from the man in question to look at the blonde in front of you, “His cooking isn’t as bad as you’d think.” You had to bite back the smile that spread across your face. JJ narrowed her eyes before she nodded her head, “And we obviously kissed,” You said, lowering your voice even more. JJ grinned.

“Just kissed?” She asked and you nodded your head.

“We got… interrupted,” You mumbled as you stared down at the case file. JJ couldn’t help the choked laugh that escaped her lips.

“What? By Garcia?” She asked, baffled. You nodded your head.

“Duty calls,” You mumbled. JJ bit her lip, hiding her amusement as she glanced over at Luke. He had returned back to his work, reading through the file and pretending like he wasn’t listening to the two of you gossip.

“No wonder he seems so frustrated,” JJ commented. Your head snapped up and you stared at her. She was quick to throw her hands up defensively, “I’m just saying what I see.” You scoffed and looked back down at your case file.

“He at least got a release,” You muttered under your breath but JJ caught it. Her gaze flicked to Luke and then back to you before she felt herself internally cringe at the image that popped into her head. But she didn’t bother to say anything else, it was a conversation for another time when the two of you were alone and not looking at mangled corpses.

To put it simply, this case was exhausting. The team had been up for most of the night, investigating and setting up with the local PD. You and Luke had checked out the scene and gathered everything you could about the sadistic killer. But then you had returned back to the station where you settled in for the next few hours. It was a long night and your investigation dragged out long past the rise of the sun.

By the time that night fell again, the team was exhausted and had hit a brick wall in the profile. It was clear that nobody was really feeling their best so Emily ordered everyone to head back to the hotel and get some rest so they could take another crack at the case the next day. You were glad of the break. The exhaustion had made you feel brain-dead and you needed to switch your brain off for a few hours.

You, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the cars back to the hotel and when the two women had taken off to their rooms, Luke walked you to yours. It was the gentleman thing to do - he had said - which just made you laugh. Both of you were exhausted and you couldn’t help giggle at him. You also knew that he wasn’t just being a gentleman.

He had dropped his bag into your room earlier so you didn’t even bother discussing whether Luke would stay with you. He was going to and he let you tug him inside once you had slipped into the room.

“I feel like my brain is melting out of my skull,” You muttered as you closed the door behind the two of you. Luke walked over to his to-go bag, an amused chuckle escaping his lip at your comment. You watched him from the bedroom door, a smile spreading across your face. He looked so cute. He was clearly just as tired as you were but he was keeping a brave face. You assumed that he was probably used to not sleeping amazing.

But you wanted him to sleep well tonight. So you wandered over to him and leant up to press a kiss to his lips. He smiled down at you before he pecked your lips again. Then he told you to get ready for bed. So, the two of you switched into your pajamas and you curled up on the bed. Luke was still in the bathroom as you buried your face in the pillow.

Now that you were alone with Luke again, that familiar ache had reappeared between your legs. It was really not the time and you just wanted to sleep but seeing him shirtless and looking so domestic as you brushed your teeth together had you reminded of the weekend. The way he held you, kissed you and his moans and whines and the way that he had used you for his own release. It had all been so much in the best way and the memories were making you want him so bad but you were on a case, you couldn’t do it now. As much as you wanted to.

“Everything okay?” Luke’s voice brought you from your spiraling thoughts. You nodded, sending him a slightly fake smile before you shuffled to the side on the bed so that he could get in beside you. You hadn’t even realized that your thighs were squeezing together to get some sort of relief until you had to shuffle. The ache was worse now.

Once he was comfortably under the covers, you moved towards him, ignoring the wetness in your panties in favor of snuggling up to him. His arm wrapped around your back, tugging you closer and you settled down, letting your eyes fall closed.

“Luke,” You muttered after a moment. He tilted his head down as you looked up, meeting your gaze, “I didn’t cross a line when we got called in, did I?” You asked softly. You would have asked him earlier but between the case and the rush to get to the jet, you hadn’t really got a chance to check in with him.

“No.” He said firmly. You nodded and rested your forehead back against his chest, “Just wish I could have repaid the favour,” He mumbled. You shrugged,

“You’ll just have to make up for it when we’re home,” You retorted. He let out a ‘mhm’ of agreement but his mind seemed distracted. You glanced up at him, feeling a sudden change in how he was holding onto you, “What’s wrong?” You asked quickly. He looked down at you, a devious look in his eyes.

“I want to fuck you in my own bed but I can still repay the favour in a different way,” He said as he moved his hand to cup your jaw. Your eyes fell closed, the thought of him finally giving you the release that you desperately craved just making you wetter, “And it might help you sleep a little better. I can feel how tense you are, carina,” He whispered in your ear. You bit your lip before you forced your eyes back open, looking at him.

“Please,” You whispered softly. He grinned and then he moved to sit up, his back against the headboard. He tugged you between his legs, your back pressed against his front and your legs hooked over his, spread out for him. Your head moved to rest back but the tension in your shoulders was still present. He leant down and slowly began to kiss against your neck, hoping that the soft kisses would relax you a little.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He asked, his voice low in your ear. His hands were resting against your thighs, open for you to take. You bit your lip before you shifted your hand to grab his, slipping it under your pajama shirt. His hand engulfed your tit and he gently squeezed it, “Just there?” He asked, teasing a little. You shook your head and took his other hand, slipping it under the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear. His finger nudged your clit as you guided him to your slit and you twitched against him, “Fuck,” He breathed out. Your hand slipped away from him as his fingers began to move of their own accord.

He ran his fingers through your wetness, collecting it between his fingers before he dragged the fingertips up to your clit. He circled the bud and you let out a breathy whine. Your head fell back against him, your shoulders relaxing.

“Good girl,” He whispered into your ear as he began to move his fingers into a steady circle over your clit. It was a little slower than what you usually did to get yourself off but the slow build up of pleasure was tantalizing. He then shifted his hand against your tit to gently pinch your nipple. You let out a shaky breath, eyes falling closed as he moved, “Tell me if it’s too much,” He said after a beat. You nodded your head vehemently.

“It’s good, it’s so good,” You whimpered as he continued his movements on your clit. His head moved down to press a kiss to your hair before he shifted. His hand that had been pinching and playing with your nipple, trailed across your stomach and down to the waistband of your pants.

“I wanna take these off,” He said as he fiddled with the waistband. His movements on your clit hadn’t let up and the build-up was making you squirm. Part of you wanted him to go faster though. You knew that if he just went a little faster, you’d get that release you’d been craving, “Carina,” He whispered against your ear and you groaned softly, tilting your head up. You forced your eyes back open but they were half-lidded as he looked at you.

“Go a little faster, please,” You begged. It quickly became clear to him that you hadn’t comprehended his request which only made him smirk.

“Okay, baby, I can do that.” He was quick to comply, moving his fingers a little faster. You bit your lip, throwing your head back against his chest. Your back arched against him and he grinned against your skin. He was going to have fun with this. You were breathing heavily as your hands fisted into the sheets.

The pleasure was building in your gut and you could feel that familiar pull of release but you didn’t want this to end. A low moan of his name fell from your lips when he suddenly began to flick across your clit rather than circling it. His free hand shifting from the waistband of your pants up to your neck.

“Is this okay?” He whispered as he gently squeezed on your neck. You were practically panting as you moved one hand from the sheets up into his hair. You did your best to nod your head, panting out ‘yes, yes, yes’. His lips were resting against the shell of your ear and you felt the breathy chuckle that escaped his lips at your whining and moaning.

“Oh God,” You whined as your back arched further, fingers tugging at the root of his hair. Your walls were contracting around nothing, clit throbbing with each flick of his fingertips.

“You’re being so good for me, baby. Cum for me, carina. Let me give you what you need,” He whispered against your ear as his fingers squeezed around your throat. You were panting, eyes falling closed and his mumbles of praise was the last straw.

Your thighs were shaking as you threw your head back, moaning his name as you came. The slick gushed out of you and his fingers were quick to dip down to catch it. He smirked against your ear, letting his hand slip from your neck to your stomach. You felt completely boneless and relaxed for the first time in months. It barely took anything for him to have you whining and keening for him and he couldn’t deny that he was high on the power.

As you came down, he pressed soft kisses to the skin of your neck and his hand that had been on your clit settled to rest in your underwear but away from your sensitive clit. You had sounded so pretty moaning his name and he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to truly repay you for what you’d done for him, “Do you want another one?” He asked softly. His lips brushing against the shell of your ear. You bit your lip, eyes still closed but you did. You really did.

“Please,” You whimpered. He chuckled and slipped his hands up to tug at the waist of your pants and underwear.

“Gotta take this off then,” He said. You nodded and lifted your hips up so that he could slip the fabric down your legs. He didn’t bother stripping them completely and instead let them settle just above your calves. It gave him enough room to work and he was quick to slip one hand to your cunt and the other to your clit.

When he pressed his fingers against it, you shivered. It was still sensitive from your first orgasm but the pleasure from the slow circles he ran around it made the overstimulation easy to ignore. His hand on your cunt ran two fingers through your slit. You were so wet for him and it made slipping a single finger into your weeping hole that much easier.

The feeling of his fingers inside you had you keening but you knew that you could take more than that. It seemed Luke quickly understood that too and slipped a second one inside. His thick fingers filled you up just right and he curled his fingers inside you. Your walls contracted around him and he smirked against your hair.

“Oh, carina, you're desperate for it, aren’t you?” He whispered. You nodded your head, biting your lip as you canted your hips forward slightly. His fingers buried deeper inside you and he smirked, “Want me to move my fingers?” He asked. You nodded, begging him with soft whimpers of ‘please’ and ‘yes’ and he slowly began to move them in and out. His other hand was still circling your clit and the combination of pleasure was making you melt into him. Whimpers and moans falling from your lips as one of your hands buried further into his hair. You were gripping at his curls, canting your hips in time with his thrusts.

“Do you need me to be faster, baby?” He asked. You nodded your head, letting out a needy whimper as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were hooded, blown-wide with lust as he took in just how destroyed you look. Mussy hair, parted lips, half-lidded eyes and the squelching of his fingers as he shoved into you, you looked beautiful.

“I-” You tried to say something but then he changed pace on your clit again. He began to flick it, moving side-to-side and all that came from your lips was a moan of his name. Your head falling back against his shoulder, “I’ll- your fingers-” You wanted to tell him, you wanted to warn him but the quicker he moved, the harder it became to speak.

Your mind was becoming a hazy mush as he slipped a third finger into you. Your walls tightened around him, thighs shaking as you lifted up slightly. Body pressed against him, “You’re gonna- make me- fuck your fingers will make me squirt,” You finally managed to get out between breathy whines and moans. Luke smirked and it just seemed to make him move faster. His fingers slipped in and out of you quickly. Your walls were squeezing him, hips meeting his every movement as he flicked your clit quicker.

You felt it. The tendril of pleasure that was about to snap and then it did. It was like everything shunted forward and you squirted. His hands were soaked with it and it dripped down to your ass, soaking the bed beneath you as you panted, whined and moaned his name. He was pretty sure he’d never seen such a pretty sight.

“Fuck,” He groaned as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. They were shining with slick and he couldn’t help grinning. He hadn’t expected to make you cum like that but he couldn’t say it wasn’t a beautiful sight.

“Should have- should have warned you,” You mumbled as you fell back against him. Your head was lolling to the side, rested against him as you panted against the skin of his neck. He leant forward and pressed a kiss to his temple, shifting you forward so that you curled up against him.

Your legs were shaking still, your pussy throbbing as you turned to the side to rest your head against him. His hands were covered in your slick and he was mesmerized by it, “I’m sorry, it’s messy,” You muttered, clearly you were fucked out. Your eyes could barely stay open as you rested your cheek against his chest.

“Don’t apologize,” He suddenly said. His voice was low, stern and serious, “Nothing wrong with messy,” He mumbled before he leant down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He wanted to hold your face and kiss you properly but he needed to clean up his hands first. You also needed to go to the bathroom.

“Thank you,” You muttered. He pressed another kiss to your forehead before he coaxed you out of your post-orgasm bliss. It wasn’t long before he had taken you into the bathroom and while he washed his hands of your slick, you sat on the toilet. You were so tired but you pissed, wiped yourself up and joined him at the sink. You washed and dried your hands before you trudged up to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso.

He wrapped his arms around you, tugging you against him before he connected your lips into a soft kiss. It was just a few pecks before you pulled back, eyes half-closed. The sleepiness was making its presence known and he knew that you both needed to get some sleep. Also, your post-orgasm bliss had only seemed to make you even sleepier. You seemed more relaxed than you had been all day. He felt bad for leaving you so worked up but it wasn’t going to do that again.

With a gentle tug, he took you back into the bedroom and he checked over the bed. There was only a small patch of wetness which he was quick to avoid as he tugged you under the covers. Part of him felt bad for making such a mess and not having the forethought to lay a couple of towels down before he fucked you with his fingers but he had seen you squirt tonight and so, he wasn’t really sorry at all.

When you both got back into the bed, Luke let you curl up on top of him. Your head rested against his peck, the soft thrum of his heart lulling you into serenity.

“Can’t wait to be back home. Wanna see what else you can do,” You mumbled softly against him. He chuckled, his chest vibrating with it as you smiled against his skin. He moved his hand to rest against your back, running patterns along your skin.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” He responded. You hummed back before finally letting yourself succumb to sleep. Within seconds, you were conked out and he just watched you for a little bit. Your chest rose and fell steadily as you snuggled against him in your sleep. It was soothing to have someone after so long. He wanted you to fall asleep against his chest for the rest of his life and he loved you even if he wasn’t ready to tell you that yet.

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#luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez fluff #luke alvez fic #luke alvez smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #reader-insert #built to fall

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