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wheneverfeasible · 3 days ago

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Ruin Me (part 5)

wc: 4k || rating: E || story summary: Steve shows up on Eddie’s doorstep with an offer he can’t refuse || chapter summary: Eddie refuses to let Steve leave without some proper aftercare. And maybe not at all. || tags: omegaverse, alpha!Eddie Munson, omega!Steve Harrington, intersex omegas, explicit content (see ao3 for full tags) || posted in full on ao3

See bottom for commentary

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Previously…

Eddie wasn’t stupid. He knew that, even if he was interested in getting to know Steve more, there was no way that Steve would want anything more to do with Eddie after tonight. He had gotten what he wanted and Eddie…well, Eddie wasn’t stupid.

Sure, maybe his rants about forced conformity and biological slavery were enough to convince Steve he’d probably be safe enough with him, but Eddie knew the truth. What greater disappointment was there than having a Munson be the one to steal the precious golden boy’s virginity?

The super senior, drug dealing, trailer trash, poor excuse of an alpha Munson who had no hope for a future that didn’t include the bars of a cell or six feet underground.

Why would Steve ever want anything more to do with him after tonight?

As Eddie contemplated this depressing truth, Steve slipped into a small doze in his arms, though his purring never let up. A small smile curled at his plump lips, his face flushed and sweaty with their exertion, yet looking the most peaceful Eddie could ever recall it being. Content.

Steve looked content.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson,” he whispered to himself. He sighed then, holding on to Steve even tighter, a pleased sound leaving the omega’s lips even in his light slumber.

Eventually, Eddie’s knot deflated.

As Eddie slipped out of Steve, he could feel the flood of both their releases beginning to seep out of the other boy, which also caused Steve to whine as he came back to awareness.

“Shh, precious, it’s okay,” Eddie murmured, gently easing Steve onto his back as he pressed small kisses along Steve’s shoulder, neck, and jaw. “Just relax. You did so good for me, sweetness.”

Steve’s nose crinkled into something resembling distaste. “Sticky,” he complained a touch petulantly, and Eddie couldn’t help but lean in to brush over Steve’s frowning lips with his own.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He moved away briefly, grabbing the towel he’d discarded near the bed to gently begin wiping away the worst of their combined release. Steve whimpered a little at the rough feeling of the cloth against his sensitive bits, but Eddie tried to soothe him as best he could, pressing gentle kisses across Steve’s skin wherever he could reach.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, bringing a hand up to cover his face as Eddie cleaned him up, though he then grimaced and lifted his hand to frown at it as he realized his face was also sticky from Eddie unintentionally rubbing his slick over him earlier.

“We just did, sweetheart, but give me a few minutes and I’m sure we can go again,” Eddie grinned with a small tease, leaning in to press a kiss to Steve’s inner thigh where his bite mark was now a purple-red.

Steve lazily swatted at Eddie’s shoulder, though he couldn’t hide the amused twitch to his lips. That blush that Eddie was quickly becoming obsessed with was back on his cheeks, however, as Eddie continued to gently clean Steve up as well as he could.

“Think you can stand up, baby? I would love to keep you in the bed, but I think we both need an actual shower,” he grinned, sliding up Steve’s body to hover over him.

He leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, telling himself he was allowed these actions until Steve was out his door and this thing between them was over. “Plus, I think we well and truly ruined this bedding.”

Steve groaned, though his blush spread farther at the soft kiss, making no move to push Eddie away. “I think you fucked my legs into jelly.”

A bright, proud grin spread across Eddie’s lips, causing Steve to snort and roll his eyes. Where earlier it had been bitchy, however, now it just looked fond.

“I guess I’ll just have to hold you up then, darling,” he drawled, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhaling his sex-sweat scent. “I’m going to get the water started,” he murmured, feeling that pleased warmth in his chest when Steve’s fingers tangled in his hair once more, holding him close. “I’ll be right back, Stevie.”

Steve swallowed thickly, nodding as he seemed to only reluctantly release Eddie. He watched him with his big brown eyes as Eddie just as reluctantly slid from the bed to try to coax some warm water out of the blasted shower. It was easier in the summer to get warm water, of course, as the sun heated the water tank exactly when you didn’t want it to.

He hoped the storm didn’t leave them with only something frigid. As willing as he was to boil water on the stove, as he’d had to do before even before living with Wayne, he doubted Steve would be willing to wait for it.

Which was just another example of why this thing here was for tonight only. Steve no doubt never had to wait for the water to heat up in any form, never had to worry about not having enough hot water, and certainly had a shower larger than a chessboard.

(Okay, the last was an exaggeration, but it would be a tight fit getting the both of them into the shower.)

Luck seemed to be on his side, however, as the water thankfully began heating after a brief, terrifying moment, causing a small whoop to leave Eddie before he could stop it as he pumped his fist to himself.

He briefly hoped Steve hadn’t heard him over the sound of the rushing water and the storm outside, no matter the thinness of the trailer walls. He’d rather not remind the other boy what an absolute fucking nerd he was when he was still playing at being the suave alpha Steve obviously expected him to be.

Uncaring about his nude state, he all but swaggered back into his room with a proud grin on his face despite himself at his victory over the water tap, stopping only when he caught sight of Steve again.

Steve wasn’t quite fully sitting up, but he had propped himself up on an elbow, his other hand lightly touching the bruise covering his mating gland. There was a faraway look on his face, though his expression was otherwise blank to how he felt about recent events. Eddie watched him for a moment before clearing his throat, feeling oddly nervous.

He tried to remind himself that this was Harrington, but a part of him knew that Steve had stopped being the bogeyman he’d always made him out to be the moment Steve revealed why he needed Eddie’s help.

And everything else after that.

Steve jumped slightly as he was pulled from his thoughts, his hand dropping to the bed once more. He blinked up at Eddie before offering a self-conscious smile. “Um…if you give me a moment, I can get into the shower and out of your hair.”

Eddie tried not to let Steve’s words affect him. That’s what this whole thing was, after all. A quick fuck and then never interacting again. After all, Steve was set to graduate soon and Eddie…yeah. It was becoming more and more apparent that he was about to become a super super senior.

Again, the realization that the two of them came from two totally different worlds was just a little too hard to ignore.

But Eddie was, if nothing else, good at pretending.

“And have you driving out in this mess of a storm?” he snorted, tossing a hand towards his bedroom window where the rattle of rain hitting the window was still highly evident. “I think not, Harrington. Plus, you look bone tired, sweetness,” he pointed out, because that much was true. Though Steve was looking more aware and less doped up on pheromones and sex, he looked exhausted.

“I can take care of myself, Munson,” Steve huffed back, but he was obviously too exhausted to get truly indignant. Eddie just softly snorted again and shook his head as he walked over to the bed and, with another squawk from Steve, lifted him up into a princess carry. “Eddie!”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he grinned as Steve’s arms automatically looped around his neck. “I promise to take good care of you. Now let’s take advantage of the water while it’s still warm.”

Eddie ignored any further protests from Steve as he carefully carried him into the small bathroom, only allowing him to take to his feet again to get inside the shower stall. He stepped in right after, hands firm on Steve’s bruised hips so his wobbling legs didn’t send him crashing, and while it was definitely cramped, he at least had enough space to first wash Steve and then himself. If just barely.

Though he could do without the disparaging look that Steve was giving his combination shampoo/conditioner/body wash. Not everyone had fancy hair care routines, okay? Steve tactfully kept his mouth shut, however, which Eddie counted as a blessing.

Despite his earlier protests too, Eddie could see the way Steve’s eyes began drooping as he leaned against the shower wall as Eddie bathed them, humming in what was almost a purr again while Eddie scrubbed the rainwater and sweat from his hair.

There was no way Eddie could let the guy leave like this, that was for certain.

After carefully washing the both of them—and trying not to think about how Steve smelled like him now, because he wasn’t some possessive knothead for an omega who wasn’t even his—Eddie grabbed two more towels and wrapped one around his own waist before draping another over Steve’s shoulders.

“Sit on the toilet lid for a moment while I get the bedding changed, okay, Stevie?” he murmured quietly, gently running the towel material over Steve to help dry him before helping him sit on the seat. He knew their towels weren’t the softest material anymore, not in their age, but he’d grabbed the softest one he could find for Steve.

Steve blinked up at him, a light flush dusting his cheeks again, making Eddie want to bite them. Or kiss them. He wasn’t certain anymore. They were basically the same thing, really. He reached out to gently stroke Steve’s warm cheek when Steve just kept staring at him, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

“Okay?” he repeated, needing to make certain that Steve was okay to be left alone for a moment.

Steve’s throat bobbed as he audibly swallowed, reminding Eddie that he needed to get him some water to drink as well. Maybe something to eat too, if Steve was awake enough to eat something.

“Okay,” Steve murmured quietly, almost a whisper.

Without really intending to, Eddie leaned down and brushed his lips over Steve’s forehead before releasing him and stepping back to head for the laundry cupboard. He could swear he could feel Steve’s eyes drilling into him as he walked away, but he refrained from turning back to check.

He wasn’t looking forward to braving the laundromat with sex stained sheets (again), but if the storm didn’t let up soon, he had a feeling that was going to be a necessity.

Especially since his only other set of sheets he had to use right now were his old Star Wars ones which…yeah, really fucking sexy those ones. Hopefully Steve was still too out of it that he didn’t pay attention to that.

Not that he normally cared what the normies thought of him, but…

He tried not to think about why he was trying to impress Steve Harrington of all people.

Once he dried off best he could and had his bed remade, Eddie then scooped up Steve’s clothes and carried them with him to the bathroom so he could drape them over the shower’s wall to try to dry them somewhat. He paused though, taking in the sight of Steve squirming a little on the toilet seat. He opened his mouth to ask if Steve was all right when he smelled it: arousal.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up under his damp fringe. “Really, Steve?”

Steve huffed up at Eddie, though his cheeks were bright pink. “It’s your fault,” he grumbled.

Eddie pressed his fingertips to his chest with a shocked expression. “My fault? I wasn’t even in the room!”

“No, but you said it. That I’d feel the ache until I was wet for you again.”

“I—” Eddie stared at Steve with wide eyes, this time with his cheeks flushing a soft pink. Yes, he had said that, but he hadn’t really expected that to actually arouse Steve.

He cleared his throat, grabbing his still wet hair to cover part of his face as an almost shy smile took over his expression at the thought of Steve actually getting aroused by the memory of him. Of possibly even wanting him again. Him, specifically.

“Well. Anything I can do for you, big boy?” he teased once he’d collected his composure again, moving his hair from his face but still twirling a finger around it to give Steve an exaggerated saucy wink.

Steve bit his bottom lip as he stared up at Eddie, rolling it between his teeth until it was pink and plump again, before letting his gaze travel over Eddie’s still very much nude form, minus the towel hanging low on his hips. And then, much to Eddie’s amazement, the scent of subtle arousal heightened.

Did Steve actually…find Eddie attractive? Like…for real? Not just in a ‘we are currently having sex and you’re good at it’ sort of way?

Before Eddie could properly process that, Steve let out a large sigh. “As much as I might like to see what else you can do tonight,” he huffed, which turned into a yawn, “I’m beat. I should really head home now.”

Snapping out of his shock, Eddie shook a finger at Steve. “Nah uh uh, big boy. You’re in no condition to drive right now. Besides, it’s still raining and your clothes are wet. You’re not going anywhere, Harrington.”

Steve gave Eddie that look again, like he didn’t quite know what to make of him, all big eyed and beguiled. A soft smirk slowly settled over his lips. “Yeah? This a kidnapping, Munson?”

Eddie could only grin in response, finally moving to fully set aside Steve’s clothes to dry as much as possible before moving to pull Steve to his feet. “Maybe it is, sweetheart. I did just defile you.”

Steve flashed Eddie a smug smile. “Yeah you did.”

He sounded exceptionally proud of that fact. But then, Eddie figured that if the alternative was being mated to an alpha twice your age who didn’t care about your pleasure and only wanted you barefoot and pupped up, that Steve probably was feeling a little proud of going against his parents’ wishes.

If anything, Eddie was a little in awe of Steve’s bravery to do what he did. He didn’t know Eddie. Sure, he could listen to his tabletop rants every day of the week, but he’d have no idea what Eddie was like behind closed doors when told to ruin him. And Steve had done so with the expectation of being hurt.

Just how shitty was Steve’s home life to take such a risk?

And then all higher brain function left Eddie for a moment as Steve did something he’d never done before: he scented him.

Sure, Eddie had more or less scented Steve earlier, nuzzling into his neck and drawing in the rich musk of Steve’s natural scent and the tang of sex, but Steve had no reason to do it now.

Yet, when Eddie carefully pulled Steve back to his feet, Steve had stepped immediately into his space, wrapped his arms around him, and buried his nose into Eddie’s neck over his mating gland.

Eddie tensed for a moment, though he forced himself to relax when Steve made a distressed sound, his scent souring slightly. Sliding his hand into Steve’s hair to cradle his head against him, his other hand sliding up the smooth pane of Steve’s back, Eddie thought he had to be dreaming when Steve let out a small chirp and began nosing at his scent again.

Right. Eddie was letting this go on for too long, too far. Steve was still in that post-orgasm bliss after losing his virginity; there was no way he actually wanted anything like this with a Munson. He’d be mortified if he were of more present mind.

Well. He wouldn’t be doing this in the first place if he was of more present mind.

“C’mon, omega,” Eddie murmured quietly, despite himself, bending his knees slightly to scoop Steve back up into his arms. Which then led to Steve wrapping his arms around Eddie again and nuzzling more against him, causing Eddie to thickly swallow.

He tried to remind himself that this was just biology at play. An alpha taking an omega’s virginity was no laughing matter, especially not knotting them. Their pheromones were wreaking havoc on their senses, telling them that there was more to this than there actually was.

It didn’t help that Steve smelled even more like Eddie now with his shampoo and everything. It was biological conditioning. For the both of them. It wasn’t real. By the next time they saw each other, this single night of passion would be nothing but a story to tell.

Which Eddie supposed he got to have that. This night wouldn’t be a secret because Steve needed his deflowering known. Everyone would know that Eddie “The Freak” Munson had taken precious Steve Harrington’s virginity and left every other alpha that came sniffing around with sloppy seconds.

He knew that there would be alphas who didn’t care about the concept of virginity. He certainly didn’t, not really, no matter the role he played tonight. One day Steve would no doubt find an alpha worthy of him, and then these nights would belong to them. And Steve…hell, maybe Steve would remember this night fondly, though he doubted it would be because it was Eddie.

No, it would just be because of the way Eddie had made him feel.

“You smell weird,” Steve said with a small pout. “Bring back your other scent, I love it. Did you know you smell like chocolate? But like…dark chocolate,” he said dreamily.

Eddie didn’t know if he should be offended or not, but it did work to take his mind off things he couldn’t change. “Are you telling me I smell bitter?” he huffed. “And aren’t omegas the ones supposed to smell like candy and stuff?”

“No, you jerk,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes as Eddie finally brought him back into the bedroom, losing both towels in the process but that hardly mattered at the moment. “You smell…well, okay, yeah, a little sweet, but also…smoky and earthy. Kind of like molasses. Or cardamom. And like…“ A roll of thunder interrupted him, but it just caused him to grin. “Like how it smells right after it rains.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie carefully deposited Steve on the bed before moving over to where he kept some of his omega specific drugs. “So you’re saying I smell bitter and soggy. Great, thanks, got it.”

“Asshole,” Steve said with something Eddie almost wanted to call affection in his tone, looking down at the sheets he was settled into. “That’s not what I—oh sick! Star Wars!” he said brightly, causing Eddie to whip around to stare at him, not that he noticed.

“I just got into these movies, but they’re kickass. A buddy of mine introduced me to them recently. And I thought I had a messed up family,” Steve teased with a small snort and a grin.

Steve Harrington knew about Star Wars? Did Eddie somehow find himself in the goddamn Twilight Zone or something? There was no way that super mega popular jock Steve Harrington actually appreciated a science fantasy movie series like Star Wars.

Then again…Steve had been defying expectations left and right today already. It might just be possible that Steve Harrington was a secret nerd after all.

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, a small grin of his own overtaking his expression as he grabbed the necessary pill package and popped one out.

“Yeah, the teddy bear things are cute,” Steve grinned back, suppressing another yawn now that the excitement of the sheets was mellowing out.

Eddie needed only a moment to understand what Steve meant, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at Steve’s response. “Oh yeah, the Ewoks?” he clarified easily. There was no need to correct Steve or make him feel stupid about calling them teddy bears. They looked like teddy bears.

“I’m more of an Empire Strikes Back fan myself. The one with the ice planet, and Vader and Luke’s fight,” Eddie made his own clarification with a small shrug.

“Yeah, man, those lightsabers are awesome! Dustin and I are making a handshake with them,” Steve agreed with a small, fond smile. “Totally mind blown about him being his dad though.”

Shit. Steve really did know Star Wars. Though…who the fuck was Dustin???

Eddie swallowed back the possessive instincts of his inner alpha. It wasn’t like Steve was actually his or anything.

“Here, sweetheart,” he said, stepping back towards the bed to hold out the pill for Steve to take. “I’m gonna get you some water, then you need to take that since you’re not on birth control.” Eddie hesitated for a moment. “Which I can get for you, if you want. You wouldn’t be the first omega whose parents are assholes.”

Steve took the pill, though he looked up at Eddie with those wide eyes again, a small ‘o’ to his lips. He blinked and looked down at the pill in his hands, turning it between his fingers. “If my parents…well, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford it after this,” he mumbled.

Oh.

Eddie paused as he experienced another paradigm shift about Steve Harrington.

He could make a quip. Could leeringly say that they could work something out, could give the pills a test run…but Steve looked a little too vulnerable in that moment, his shoulders hunching slightly, his eyes not meeting Eddie’s.

It was entirely possible he would think Eddie was serious, would demand Steve pay him back with his body, and he didn’t want that thought to pass through Steve’s head even for a second.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching out to curl Steve’s damp hair over his ear. He was sorry he didn’t own a blowdryer, he would have loved drying Steve’s hair for him. Maybe he should buy one. “Consider tonight payment enough. It’s not every day I get to have such a pretty omega in my bed offering up their virginity,” he lightly teased with a small grin.

Steve blinked up at Eddie at that, that by now familiar light dusting of pink on his cheeks making its reappearance. Who knew Steve blushed so easily? He gently grazed the back of his knuckles over the heated skin, Steve’s eyelids fluttering at the gesture. God, he really was pretty though, wasn’t he?

“I’ll be back with a cup of water for that,” Eddie said, dropping his hand and clearing his throat. He gave a faint grimace. “I do have to warn you, too. It might not be entirely pleasant afterwards, and it could trigger your heat a little sooner or even delay it. I can get you some heat suppressants too, but it may not work on this upcoming one.”

“My parents at least let me have suppressants,” Steve mumbled, dropping his own gaze. “Or they did, at least. Didn’t want to risk their whore omega son losing control,” he muttered bitterly.

Eddie swallowed back a growl at the thought of Steve’s parents. Fuck traditionalist bigots.

Unthinkingly, Eddie dropped another kiss to Steve’s forehead and then he was all but escaping his room to get Steve a glass of water. Fucking tap water, nothing filtered properly because he lived in a fucking trailer and Steve…Steve was used to the nicer things in life.

Which wasn’t Eddie.

“Christ, Munson, if your old man could see you now,” he muttered to himself, picturing the Munson Doctrine just flying out the window, as he filled up a glass. Not even a proper glass at that, either, but one of those novelty promotional things Wayne had gotten at McDonald’s with the purple guy on the front.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he could impress Steve even if he tried.

Author commentary:

First off, if you saw above with the little parts numbers, the total count is now 6, meaning there’s just one more part after this! It’s gonna be short and sweet, but it will be the final part of Ruin Me…though not the end of playing in this universe. 😉

I wanted it to be really important for Eddie to handle the aftercare of their coupling, just as it was important to him to get verbal consent from Steve before he continued anything.

Also, I am a firm believer that Eddie does not take care of his hair properly and I will die on that hill. He for sure uses the same shit for his hair that he uses for his ass. But don’t worry, Steve will eventually break him of that habit. However, I wanted his lack of proper care to also emphasize how much he wishes to take care of Steve.

Despite this originally supposed to be a one-time thing between them, Eddie is already feeling the desire for more. Which he’s trying to blame on biology, but we all know the truth, don’t we? Silly Eddie.

Also, the Star Wars sheets lmao. It was a spur of the moment decision when I wrote those sheets in, and then I couldn’t resist. Especially because I thought it would give Eddie another moment to realize that there was more to Steve than he ever thought possible.

The sheets in question:

Also, I feel like Eddie’s favorite would be ESB. (Mine is a tie between ESB and ROTJ btw. Vader was my first crush and he still remains one to this day.) Which, speaking of, it was likewise important for me to give Eddie that moment of not correcting or judging Steve for not knowing something well. It’s a favorite detail of mine in their relationship from canon.

I don’t want to get too much into Steve’s thought processes here because it will be covered in the sequel/companion piece, but he’s definitely starting this whole thing believing Eddie got what he wanted from him, but he’s likewise realizing there’s more to Eddie than he realized too. He may or may not be developing pesky little feelings of his own. (He totally is. And not just because he got a good dicking.)

Also, the McDonald’s glasses in question, with the one Eddie grabbed being the Grimace one:

But by the gods, Eddie wants to impress Steve so badly. Wants to be a good option for an alpha. To the point of getting jealous of someone who, though he doesn’t know it yet, is a middle school nerd lmaooo

If anyone in the permanent tag list would like to be excluded from this fic’s parts, please let me know and I’ll remove you for this fic only!

Hostage Hotties:

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

As well, temporary tags for this fic only are also still open if anyone else is interested in my bts author commentary.

Temporary fic tags:

@amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @estrellami-1

#fic: ruin me #with commentary #omegaverse steddie #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #just one more part left to go!#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #plot thots

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kusanagihaku · 2 days ago

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and everything you do

⭢ haku x mc, 2.5k

y is for yellow. ˖⁺‧₊⟡ alphabet series | ao3 insp by this haku fanart!

The doors of the Galaxy Express hiss open, and you stumble in.

You feel Haku’s weight slip off your shoulders as you gently lower him onto the plush of the closest red seat. He collapses, unceremoniously, onto the worn velvet, blinking slowly up at you with unfocused eyes as you right him.

“Nearly there,” you murmur. You brush his hair away from his forehead. “On the train home now.”

He closes his eyes in response.

At least the bleeding seems to have stopped, you think. The cut on his cheekbone is no longer beading with fresh blood, dried smear instead catching on the pad of your thumb as you run it over the soft of his cheek. Small wins.

You make sure he’s sitting semi-upright before moving to sit next to him. Before you can, however, his hand shoots up to stop you.

With surprising strength, his arm winds around your waist, tugging you to him so hard you can’t help but lose your balance, knees buckling and tumbling into his lap.

You yelp softly in shock, but Haku’s arms stay firmly anchored around you. His other hand comes up to grasp at the front of your blazer, holding you in place as he tips his head forward to rest on your shoulder.

You soften.

He must be really exhausted.

Unsurprising, really, with the number of all-nighters he must have pulled over the last week. Where the missions of the other houses are often action-heavy and return you battered and bruised to the drafty embrace of the cathedral, Hotarubi’s missions are instead research-heavy, requiring Haku and Subaru to stay up nights on end in preparation. You’ve seen first-hand the amount of work Haku pours into every mission they go on, flipping through tomes of books way past moonset. Sometimes Subaru walks you back to the cathedral when your work ends past midnight, and you return the next morning to see Haku still in the same spot you left him.

It’s partially why you find yourself gravitating towards Hotarubi missions – you’re more useful hitting the books for Haku than you are hitting… well, hitting anything with your fists.

(The other half of the reason remains shrouded in a vague mist of Hotarubi nice, Subaru sweet, biggest fucking crush on Haku, Zenji fun… you try not to think too much about it.)

You reach up to pat his head gently. “I’ll text Jiro to come take a look at your ankle, alright?”

“Mmph,” Haku says. He shifts slightly, so that his chin is tucked into the crook of your neck instead. The grip on your blazer loosens. “No need, I’ll be alright.”

Any closer his lips get to you and he’d be able to read the race of your heart through the thrum of your skin alone; you hope he doesn’t notice.

You tsk, instead. “I know you ghouls heal at like, double the speed or whatever, but I still want to make sure it’ll heal properly.”

Haku snorts. It sounds pained, still. His breath tickles your ear lobe as he says, “You don’t have to. I have you to lean on, don’t I?”

You sigh. The ghouls may have double the strength, but they have double the stubbornness, too. “I’ll just get Jiro to bring the salve that Professor Nicolas used on me on my first day, alright?”

Haku’s arms tighten around you at that. There is a small smile in his voice as he says, “How the tables have turned.”

You tilt your head.

“Me bringing you to Darkwick on the Galaxy Express way back then because of your injured ankle…” Haku continues, laugh breathy against your ear. “Now it’s your turn to bring me home, huh?”

You think you may be imagining it, but there is a gentle press of lips against the curve of your neck. It sends a warm shiver down your spine and a warm flush up your cheeks; you hurry to cover it up by shifting your arm and reaching into your pocket for your phone.

“Wish you were sitting on my lap the first time, though,” Haku murmurs, and your brain short-circuits.

“Um,” you say, intelligently. Your fingers fumble the password to your phone, failing to unlock it, and Haku snorts again.

“Sorry, princess.”

He doesn’t move though. You start to think he’s not sorry at all.

“I’ll, um.” You swipe at your phone screen again, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and the sudden overwhelming awareness of Haku’s arms holding you flush against him. “I’ll just.”

You navigate to your texting app, with some difficulty, and as soon as your app opens Haku laughs, drowsily. “My chat is pinned.”

Right. You forgot you did that.

You bite your lip. “I, um, pinned it for the mission.”

You didn’t, and you know Haku knows it too.

There’s no mistaking it this time – you feel the soft of Haku’s lips smile against the spot where your neck meets your collar. “Mmhmm.”

You don’t know if you’re going to combust first from embarrassment or from the way his breath is fanning out against your neck.

But it’s a good reminder that he’s still alive, albeit in pain, and his breath evens out, eventually, as you tap out a quick missive to Jiro to meet you at the train station…

The Galaxy Express announces its arrival at the station with a soft chime.

You awake with a start – you must have dozed off for a few minutes in the warmth of Haku’s embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady rocking of the train. Oh, to fall asleep in Haku’s arms under other circumstances–

The train chimes again, and you stand up, gently pulling yourself free from the lock of his arms around you, before turning around to help Haku stand as the train pulls into the station.

As soon as you get Haku to his feet, his weight warm against your shoulder, you spot the ever-reliable bird’s nest of hair hovering outside the train station, and the even-more-reliable ghoul floating behind him. “Jiro!”

Zenji floats immediately to your side as you help Haku out of the train. “My goodness, Haku! What have you gotten yourself into!”

You bite your lip and shoot him an apologetic glance. Can’t answer him now, with Jiro so close, but Zenji just nods in understanding, choosing instead to fret over Haku’s injuries.

It takes a moment to navigate out of the Galaxy Express and down the steps of the train station to the sound of Zenji’s chatter, but the two of you soon stand in front of Jiro as he surveys your mess.

“Honour student,” Jiro nods. “Kusanagi.”

His eyes sweep over the surface cut on Haku’s cheek, before choosing to attend to the ankle injury. The bottle of whitish-green salve is already in his hand as he kneels down. He prods a little, with the cold tips of his fingers, then spreads the salve around where you think (?) Haku’s ankle is swollen.

Jiro stands up at last, capping the bottle of salve. “It doesn’t look too bad. The swelling isn’t as bad as you made it out to be; it looks like he should be able to walk back by himself.”

You sigh in relief. “Thanks, Jiro.”

Jiro just shrugs, tucking the bottle into your hand. “If you didn’t say he was limping I wouldn’t have known it was injured at all.”

You narrow your eyes as the pieces click together in your head, but before you can turn to Haku Jiro retrieves a few bandages from his pocket and thrusts them at you.

“Some bandages for his face,” Jiro says. “Normally I’d put them on for patients, but he seems like he’d vastly prefer you doing it for him.”

You turn to glare at Haku, but he just grins, brightly. “Spot-on as always, Jiro.”

Jiro merely nods, before turning to stride away.

“Thanks, Jiro!” You call out after the ghoul, before turning to Haku with a huff.

“You–“

“I told you not to call him,” Haku points out, eyes twinkling, and you huff again.

“I thought you were injured!”

“I am!” He grins, and leans against you. “God, I’m so tired, it’s so hard to walk, my ankle hurts–“

You burst out laughing, in spite of yourself. “You’re so annoying.”

And if you slowly make your way back with Haku’s arm still wound around your shoulder and his laugh brushing against your ear, limping closer and closer to the grey drizzle of Hotarubi, well– that’s nobody’s business but your own.

(Neither of you notice Zenji fading back into transparency, adoring smile gracing his face as he watches the two of you bicker. He has a new idea for a love story to write, after all, and a brother to tail.)

Haku winces in pain the moment the antiseptic hits his skin.

You bite your lip, pulling the cotton gauze away from his cheek. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head minutely from where he is laid in your lap. “It’s alright. I can take it.”

You dab around the wound, gentler this time. “You’re gonna have to keep the bandage on for at least a day.”

“As long as it doesn’t scar,” Haku responds. He blinks slowly up at you, lazy smile spreading across his face. “Damn, if I knew all I needed to do to lay on your lap was to get a little scratch on my cheek I would have done it sooner.”

You flush, and bop his nose with your index finger. “Stop smiling. I can’t clean your wound.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and bites down on his lips. The twinkle of mirth in his eyes don’t disappear, though, and it is only a matter of seconds before he opens his mouth again. “Will you give it a kiss after?”

Startled, you press a little harder on his wound than you intend to, and he hisses in response. “Sorry!”

Haku groans, hand coming up to brush his cheek before looking up at you like a wounded puppy. “That much against giving me a kiss? I’m hurt.”

You bite back the thrum of your heart and will your eyes not to flicker to the soft pink of his lips, warm in the bruise-blue of Hotarubi evening.

“If you’re well enough to flirt, you’re well enough to clean your own wound,” you threaten lightly, instead, and watch as Haku’s eyes crinkle up in a golden smile that sinks right into the butterfly swirl of your stomach.

You can’t help the responding smile that surfaces on your own cheeks either – there has always been something in the sunlight of his laugh that bubbles through the map of your veins, bright and warm and magnetic.

God, you’re so gone for him.

You hastily drop his gaze and drop the gauze, and unwrap the large plaster Jiro gave you. “Stay still.”

“As you say,” Haku murmurs, then much to the relief of your one remaining braincell, shuts his eyes.

As you manoeuvre the length of the plaster onto the scratch on his cheek, you thank your past self for turning on the small lamp near the foot of his futon mattress. The scratch looks deeper than you thought in the warm light, an angry red that will scab over only in a few days. You’ll have to grab some hydrocolloid cream from your own stash to make sure it heals well. Maybe you can bring it over tomorrow.

You run your fingers over the edges of the plaster, gently pressing the adhesive into place before brushing his fringe away from his eyelashes. He still looks exhausted, to be honest, purplish-grey bruising under his eyes both a haunting of sleepless nights past and a promise of sleepless nights to come.

You wonder, for the thousandth time, if there is anything else you can do to help shoulder his burden just as much as he is trying to shoulder yours.

“If you stare so much you gotta start paying me in kisses, princess,” Haku says softly, smiling, eyes still closed. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing your palm against his injured cheek.

“I wasn’t–“

Haku hums, amusement threading through exhaustion. He doesn’t open his eyes. “Liar.”

He intertwines his fingers with yours, shifting your hand so he can press his lips against your palm. The light brush of his kiss against your skin sends your heart racing; the fond gesture fuels the sudden whirlwind that has grown its new home in your throat. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

You open your mouth to retort, but come up empty. God, you thought you were subtle, but everyone and their mothers and apparently Haku himself knows about your big fat crush on him.

So much for keeping it a secret and living out a quiet rest of the year, really.

His voice is low, words sleep-warm and slurring as he continues, “I could love you like that, you know. I want to. If you’d let me.”

The drum of the rain against the wooden veranda outside intensifies, filling the space between the both of you. The creaks in the Hotarubi ceilings expand between you and what you are too afraid to have.

Can you? Can you really, with the sword of your curse hanging over your head? It already feels like you’re taking too much from him, just like this, wrapped in the secret moments you share and tucked into liminal pockets of time you steal between missions. His head on your lap, your hand in his. It feels too greedy, to take what he so readily offers. To agree with him feels like you’re reaching for too much.

And yet you do not move your hand.

Haku breathes out. It is too light to be a sigh, too heavy to be anything else but letting go. “Sing me a lullaby, will you?”

You blink. “Uh-“

He settles your interlaced fingers on his stomach. His wrist is still mottled yellow and green from where he blocked an anomaly from flying at you two missions ago; you resist the urge to run your free hand over the bruising. His voice is slow and sleepy as he mumbles a, “Just want to hear your voice, princess. Please?”

How easily you fold, whenever it is Haku asking.

When you begin humming your voice is a little shaky, a build of uncertainty and self-consciousness, and you nearly stop if not for the reassuring squeeze of Haku’s hand on yours. You hum through the opening bars of a song whose name you cannot quite remember but is familiar all the same, a star-dusted melody has been trodden into the paths of your brain long before its lyrics floated away.

The slightly off-tune off-time of your humming melts into the grey of the rain and the warmth of the room; you feel Haku slowly slipping out of consciousness, barely aware of how your hand has come up to rest against the green silken threads of his hair.

And you know, you know I love you so.

Haku’s breathing evens out. You skim your thumb over the back of his hand.

You know I love you so.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #haku kusanagi #lin writes #ft kirisaki brothers hehe!!#alphabet series #haku being dramatic and flirty and asking for kisses???? mc pining???#that's just their default #ok i SWEAR im gna stop writing haku and finish the other three drafts

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thisonegirl · 2 days ago

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Before The Bird’s Last Flight

pairing : keigo “hawks” takami x reader rating : nsfw (very mild) warnings : angst ; mentions of sex wc : 650+ (edited)

You fidgeted with the gold band that adorned your left ring finger as you always did when you were nervous. You tried your hardest to focus on it and take your mind off the fact that your husband was in the midst of a fierce fight in a brutal war but to no avail.

When Keigo had brought you to the UA shelter you thought it would just be a change in locations and he would still be around as usual but little did you know you’d go days on end without so much as hearing a peep from him and when you did they were just words of consolation, apologies and promises of a better future.

You hadn’t cared about all that though. You only cared that he was safe and sound, so whenever he was away you’d wait by the phone for him to call or stare at the door waiting for him to burst in. The last time he finally did, you couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t as maybe then he wouldn’t be with you as a potentially final goodbye before he left to fight a battle both of you weren't even sure he’d survive.

You wished you could go with him but with your quirk and lack of proper training, you’d be a hindrance rather than a support so all you could do was sit back, wait and worry until he hopefully made his way back to you.

As you sat in your room, you couldn’t help but think of when he had come to you a couple of days before. He had been tired when he arrived. Relief washed over you as it seemed to always do whenever you saw him.

“Hey Cupcake,” Keigo said with a tired smile pulling you into a tight embrace, his face buried into your neck as he inhaled your sweet scent. You knew something was amiss, though at the time you didn’t pay it any mind. You had him back.

You cooked a hearty dinner that you both indulge in, chatter and laughter filled the apartment just like old times. As the night settled in, you found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s warmth. Your laughter had softened to quiet whispers, each word a promise, a secret shared. The glow of the dimmed lights painted your faces, highlighting the soft contours and the warmth in your eyes.

You took your time, savoring each touch, each gentle brush of fingertips over skin, as if you were tracing constellations only you could see.

You felt the weight of his hand on yours, anchoring you, grounding you in the moment. He looked into your eyes, his gaze steady, filled with both passion and tenderness. Your whimpering and moans filled the room and you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame.

“Right there, baby,” you moaned against his lips as he brushed against your sweet spot.

His groans sounded like music to your ears. You spoke through soft touches and lingering glances, creating a language of their own. The world outside faded as you leaned into each other, allowing love to lead you, move you in a gentle, natural rhythm. The feeling of him inside you was almost foreign to you from how long it had been since you felt him.

You held each other close, breathing in each other’s presence, savoring the quiet intimacy of the night.

“I love you,” he groaned as the waves of his climax washed over his body. You trembled in each other’s arms as you came down from your highs.

“I wish you could stay,” you whispered, breaking the peaceful silence.

“So do I,” he murmured against your neck, leaving small pecks along it. You pulled him closer to you, wanting to savor the moment before it ended. Unfortunately, the night turned into day and like the moon, Keigo left.

As you waited, hoping and praying for his safe return, you thought of the life he had promised you. He never ever broke his promises to you so you tried to comfort yourself with the notion that he wouldn’t start now.

#mha #my hero academia #mha hawks #mha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #hawks x reader #keigo takami #thisonegirlwrites #thisonegirl fanfic

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hazelira · 2 days ago

Text

rope to nowhere

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You had always known Jay carried a quiet sadness with him. It was there in the way he looked at the sunset, a distant longing in his eyes as if he were searching for something that had slipped through his fingers. You should’ve seen it coming, but you convinced yourself otherwise, hoping that the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his words were enough to make him stay.

You find him in the kitchen tonight, staring into the cup of coffee he’s cradling between his hands. The dim light casts a shadow across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the curve of his lips—lips that once smiled at you like you were the only one in his world. But now, there’s an emptiness, a hollow look you can’t ignore.

“Jay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the refrigerator's hum. He looks up, startled as if he hadn’t noticed you standing there.

You take a step closer, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. “Are you still thinking about her?”

He freezes, the unspoken truth hanging heavy in the air. You see it in his eyes, the guilt, the pain, and the lingering affection he’s tried so hard to bury but never reasonably could. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. He doesn’t need to say it. You already know.

“She still has your heart, doesn’t she?” you ask, forcing the words out despite the lump in your throat. It’s a question you’ve been too afraid to ask, but the silence between you is enough to answer.

Jay’s shoulders slump, and he looks away, his knuckles turning white as he grips the cup. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, breaking the fragile hope you’ve clung to. “I thought I could move on—I wanted to—but…”

“But you can’t,” you finish for him, your voice cracking. The tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not when he’s already miles away, lost in memories of a love never yours.

He sets the cup down and reaches for you, but you step back. “Don’t,” you choke out, shaking your head. “I can’t—Jay, I can’t be her replacement. I can’t keep pretending I’m enough when I know you’re still in love with her.”

He looks stricken, his hands falling to his sides. “You are enough,” he says desperately, but even he doesn’t believe his words. It’s there in his eyes—the guilt, the regret, and the shadow of a love he can’t let go of.

You swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile. “If I were enough, you wouldn’t still be thinking about her.”

The silence that follows is suffocating. It’s the final nail in the coffin, confirming everything you feared. You take a shaky breath and turn away, leaving the room before the tears spill over.

Behind you, Jay doesn’t call out. He doesn’t stop you. And that, more than anything, tells you everything you need to know.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

You find yourself standing in the hallway, gripping the edge of the doorframe as if it’s the only thing holding you up. The familiar ache settles in your chest, spreading like wildfire, burning through the remnants of your hope. It feels like a final goodbye, even though no words have been said. You can hear Jay’s soft, uneven breaths behind you, but neither of you moves. Neither of you dares to speak.

The memories come rushing back—nights spent laughing under shared blankets, the way he’d look at you like you were the only person in the room, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheek as if you were something precious. You realize it was all borrowed time, a fleeting moment where you were allowed to pretend he was yours.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to turn back and face him one last time. He’s still standing by the counter, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed. The sight of him like this, broken and lost, would have once made you want to rush over and hold him close. But now, it only makes your heart shatter more because you know his sadness isn’t for you. It never was.

“Did you ever love me?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You don’t want to know the answer to it, but you need to hear it. You need to know if there was ever a time, even for a moment, when you were more than a replacement, more than a temporary comfort.

Jay’s head snapped up, eyes wide and filled with a pain you’d never seen before. He looks at you like he’s drowning and searching for the right words to say, but there’s nothing he can offer to make this better. He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, his voice trembling when he finally speaks. “I… I wanted to love you,” he admits, and it’s like a punch to the gut. You almost double over from its force.

You let out a bitter laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks now. “Wanted,” you echo, the word hanging heavy in the air. “But you didn’t. Not really.”

He steps forward, his hand reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, shaking your head. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Please, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

His hand drops to his side, and the look of defeat on his face makes your heart clench. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and you hate how sincere he sounds. You hate how much you want to believe him, to tell yourself that this isn’t his fault, that he never meant to hurt you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less accurate. It doesn’t change that you’re standing here, pouring your heart out to someone who can’t love you.

“I thought I could be enough,” you say, barely more than a broken whisper. “I thought if I just tried harder, loved you more… that you’d look at me the way you looked at her.”

Jay’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw clenching as he struggles to keep himself together. “You are enough,” he insists, his voice raw and desperate. “You’re more than enough. This isn’t about you. It’s me—I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“Then why?” you demand, your voice rising, the words spilling out like a torrent you can’t stop. “Why did you let me fall in love with you? Why did you make me believe we could have something real when you were never truly here?”

His eyes snap open, and for a moment, you see it—a flicker of something like regret, like he wishes he could take it all back. “I thought I could move on,” he says, his voice breaking. “I thought I could be the person you deserved. But every time I try… she’s still there. In my head. In my heart.”

Your breath hitches, the final confirmation tearing you apart. It hurts in a way you never imagined. It could be like you’re being split open from the inside out. You nod slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I guess this is it, then,” you say, your voice hollow. “Nothing left for me to hold onto, is there?”

Jay’s eyes are wide, panicked. “Wait,” he breathes out, taking a shaky step toward you. “Don’t go—please. I can’t lose you too.”

You let out a shuddering breath, a bitter smile tugging at your lips. “You already have,” you say quietly. “You lost me the moment you couldn’t let her go.”

You turn and walk away, your heart breaking with every step you take. He doesn’t call after you this time. He doesn’t try to stop you. And somehow, that hurts more than anything else.

The door closes behind you, and the silence that follows is deafening. It feels like the end of a chapter, the closing of a book never yours. And as you walk into the night, the cold air biting at your cheeks, you finally let the sobs wrack your body, your hands clutched to your chest as if that could hold together the pieces of your shattered heart.

You loved him with everything you had, but it was never enough. The truth is, you were never the one he was in love with, and maybe you never would be.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

The days that follow blur together in a haze of quiet loneliness. You bury yourself in work, in books, in anything that keeps your mind busy, hoping to silence the echo of Jay’s words. But they linger, a ghost haunting you in every corner of your thoughts. I wanted to love you. You repeat it to yourself like a mantra, but it doesn’t make the pain any less raw. You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that the love he offered, however fractured, was real. But now, all you feel is the hollow ache of unfulfilled promises.

You haven’t heard from him for a few days. The silence between you stretches out as if the space between you has become a chasm neither of you knows how to cross. Every time your phone vibrates, your heart races—until you see it’s not him. Memories flood your mind when you pass by places you used to go together. His laugh, his warm gaze, the way he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, telling you everything would be okay.

You keep your distance, not because you want to punish him, but because you must protect yourself now. You can’t keep pretending you’re okay when every fibre of your being aches for something that isn’t coming. You told him you couldn’t be her replacement, but the truth is, you were never meant to replace her.

You weren’t supposed to have to fight for a love that was already spoken for.

A week later, you’re sitting on the couch, reading a book that doesn’t hold your attention, when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You glance at it—Jay’s name flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, your heart frozen in place. Then, with trembling hands, you pick it up, your thumb hovering over the message.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t know what you expect, but the message feels like a dagger to your chest. You stare at it, your chest tightening with every passing second. You’ve spent the last week telling yourself that you were done and couldn’t go back to someone who couldn’t give you what you needed. But here it is—his message, the bridge to the conversation you’ve dreaded.

You don’t respond right away. You let the minutes into hours until you’re sitting with a cold cup of tea, staring at the message as though it holds the answer to everything. You wonder if, deep down, you’re hoping for something—a spark, a sign that maybe he’s finally ready to choose you.

But deep down, you know it’s a lie. You know that whatever he has to say, it won’t change the truth. You were never meant to be his.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you type a response.

“What is it, Jay?”

The message sits on your screen for what feels like an eternity before the three dots appear—his response coming slowly as if he’s trying to find the words. You can feel your stomach twist in anticipation, in dread.

“I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I never should’ve let you get so close if I couldn’t let go of her.”

You close your eyes, the pain hitting you in waves as you read his words. The apology doesn’t feel like enough—not after everything. He can’t undo the past. He can’t erase the fact that you loved him with everything you had, only to watch him look at someone else with the same love you once craved.

“I understand.” You type, and your fingers are cold against the screen. “But you can’t keep apologizing for something you’re unwilling to change.”

You don’t know why you sent it. Maybe it’s because you’re tired of the back-and-forth. Perhaps it’s because you finally realize you’re worth more than this. The phone buzzes again.

“I wish I could be the person you deserve.”

Those words strike you with the force of a freight train. You let the tears fall, but they don’t feel like weakness this time. They feel like release. You’ve been holding on for so long, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would turn around, but the truth is clear now: He’s not the person you deserve, either. You deserve someone who can love you without hesitation, someone who doesn’t keep their heart tethered to the past.

You don’t respond. Instead, you turn off your phone and set it aside, the weight of the silence now oddly comforting. You know it’s time to let go.

Later that night, you stand by your window, looking at the city lights, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. You allow yourself to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. You didn’t get the love you wanted from Jay, but you’re learning to let go, to finally stop clinging to something that was never meant to be.

In the quiet, you find peace—not because you have all the answers, but because you’ve finally let go of the question.

ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ᴖ̈

As you stand there, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, you realize you’ve been holding onto him like a drowning person clings to a lifeline that was never meant to save them. The rope, frayed and weak, slips through your fingers, but you keep gripping it, believing, somehow, that it will pull you to safety.

But in the end, it only drags you deeper into the water.

And now, as you finally let go, you feel yourself sinking, not into darkness, but into an ocean of cold, endless silence—where the only thing left to hear is the echo of your heart breaking.

#hazelira #enhypen #engene #enhypen angst #pov #kpop fanfic #x yn #enhypen drabbles #jay angst #enhypen jay #jay drabbles #jay enhypen #park jongseong #jay park #jay #enhypen comfort #jay comfort

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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 21 hours ago

Note

Hiiii

can you do 80s jason fucking you for the first time and he cums to quickly but he gets hard again in a second and he fucks like a god ?

💋

A/n: I'm guessing this isn't quite what you were talking about but I was craving soft Jason 🥹

Warnings: Smut, riding, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You'd been taking it slow with Jason for multiple reasons, he was busy with bands, he'd never been with anyone like that before, also he just wanted it to be perfect for you.

It was your birthday and Jason went all out. He took you on a walk around a park to a picnic he'd set up by a creek under a willow tree, it was quiet and candle lit and he made your favourite meal.

Then, he brought you back to his place. There was a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. "Is this a good end to the night?" He asked, his voice soft as he waited for your approval. "We can just go to sleep if you want, I was just thinking... I don't know." He mumbled, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"No, no, it's perfect." You said, turning to face him. "You did great." You smiled, stretching to kiss him.

"Well then, I guess we should get going." He said awkwardly. You giggled at his nervousness and took his hand in yours, leading him to the bedroom.

You crawled onto the bed, Jason hovering over you with your lips connected. You helped him get your clothes off before he sat back to take care of his own clothes, all while you shamelessly admired him.

Jason was down to his boxers and he paused, looking you up and down. "Where... do I start?" He asked, worried he might make a mistake.

You chewed your cheek as you thought about it but Jason was already moving down the bed and positioning his head between your thighs.

His tongue was on you in a instant, lapping up your juices, dipping into your cunt and bumping his nose on your clit. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on it and pulling him closer. You’d never fucked before but he’d definitely gone down on you a few times, although he was nervous you’d also blown him on occasion.

It’s not that either of you were virgins, neither of you were exactly experienced but you weren’t virgins. Jason just wanted to it to be perfect.

Of course, that meant he had to help you cum before he could cum. Plus he just loved making you feel good so starting by eating you out was perfect in his mind.

Your back was arching off the mattress already as his calloused fingers prodded that spongey spot, drawing a gasp from you along with your first high of the night.

He let you come down from it, running the pads of his fingers up and down your sides to make you twitch. He was gentle and sweet but he wanted to get a reaction from you whenever he could, in whatever way he could.

You smiled up at him, reaching for him and wrapping your arms around his neck when he moved over you. “Are you ready, love?” He asked, kissing up your jaw and nibbling your earlobe.

You nodded eagerly, giving him a gentle squeeze, feeling your walls fluttering as he pushed himself through your folds, gathering your juices to use as lube before pushing into you. You could tell that much was already a lot for him and he refused to move, partially to let you adjust.

He groaned and hid his face in the crook of your neck, hips twitching as he came inside you, mumbling apology after apology while you held him and assured him it was fine.

When he was ready he sat up and kissed you before reaching to the nightstand and grabbing the bottle of water that was there. It was nice to just feel him inside you but you were more than ready for more, so much more, and he was willing to deliver.

"I'm sorry, love, you just felt so good." He said, chuckling softly, a bit out of embarrassment. Maybe a lot out of embarrassment. "I'll do better, I promise." He kissed your lips a last time as you smiled up at him.

"Whatever you give me I'll take." You said, pulling him back for another kiss, this one didn't break so soon and Jason started rolling his hips into yours.

He kept a slower pace, taking into account the sounds you made and when you made one he especially liked he angled himself to keep hitting that spot. His lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, leaving your mouth open for moans to slip out.

He ran a hand up and down your side before finally landing on your clit, rubbing it with his thumb to match his thrusts. Gradually he got faster, always keeping in mind how you felt and muttering praise in your ear. "You're doing so good for me, such sweet sounds." He said, kissing just under your ear.

You felt your second high creeping up on you, slowly washing over you and lasting what felt like an eternity. By the time you were coming down from it Jason was laying beside you, holding you to his side and littering your face in kisses.

Looking down you could see he was still hard and just ignoring it, despite how red he was.

You kissed his shoulder as you looked up to meet his gaze. He was smiling down at you, happy he got to make you feel good. It didn't matter all too much how much pleasure he was deriving from it, he could help himself to that later, his attention was on you.

Your attention was on him.

You moved to straddle him, grinding down on his length and hearing a soft grunt from him. "What're you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, a hand moving down to your hip. He didn't hold you still, didn't guide you, he just wanted to touch you, feel you under the pads of his fingers.

"I want to feel that again." You said, adjusting and sinking down on him, face scrunching as your body was still reeling from the earlier pleasure.

Jason laughed at that, his cute little giggle sending butterflies to your belly as you started moving on his length. He put his thumb back to your clit, rubbing it in those sweet, sweet circles.

Not wanting to make you do all the work he kept moving his hips, thrusting up into you, still watching for those pretty moans of yours. If you tried to go faster he slowed you down, you were both sensitive and he knew it, if you just let that high find you it felt better, washing over you and making you see white.

It hit you again, coming up slowly until Jason was helping you to lay down on him, only this time he didn't pull out. Instead he went faster, hips losing all sense of rhythm. Being sensitive it made you whine right into his ear, only adding fuel to his fire, your body bouncing on his until he was painting your walls with his cum, unintentionally bringing you over the edge a fourth time.

Even after he didn't pull out, keeping you on top of him and holding you tight as you both caught your breath.

"Thank you." He whispered, kissing your cheek. "Felt so good." You only nodded in respond, kissing his neck and drifting off to sleep on top of him, not minding the sticky sensation between you and only craving his warmth.

#metallica rp #metallica fanfiction #80s metal #metallica #metal #metallica smut #metallica imagines #metallica x reader #jason newsted #jason newsted x you #jason newsted fluff #jason newsted x reader #jason newsted smut

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luvdwkki · 8 hours ago

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Back in time

Felix x Gn!reader

Word count: 3,094

Summary: You and Felix have been together for three years, so he decides to take you on a date that revisits your past.

It was Felix’s idea, and he’d been planning it for weeks, adding small, thoughtful touches to make the night unforgettable. On a warm, breezy Friday evening, he parked outside your office just as the sun was beginning to dip in the sky, casting a golden glow over the street. As he waited, he ran a hand nervously over his shirt, making sure everything was just right.

Finally, he saw you step out of the building, your face lighting up as you spotted him. You walked over with that effortless grace he loved, your hair catching the light and framing your face in soft waves. As you approached, he reached over to the passenger seat and lifted a bouquet of your favourite flowers toward you. They were wrapped in pale pink tissue paper with a small satin ribbon tied around the stems, just the way you liked them.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you opened the car door. “Felix, what’s all this?” you asked, your voice full of delight as you climbed into the car and settled into the seat. You took the bouquet gently, lifting it to your face to breathe in the soft, sweet scent.

Felix grinned, his eyes warm as he watched your reaction. “Just a little something for the person I love,” he said with a playful smile, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “And... I was thinking we could go back to where it all began.”

Your lips curled into a knowing smile. You leaned back in your seat, twirling one of the peonies between your fingers as you looked at him with a mix of affection and curiosity. “You mean the coffee shop on Rose Street?” you asked, your voice soft and filled with memories, as if you could already see yourselves sitting there, just as you did three years ago.

“Exactly,” Felix replied, reaching over to squeeze your hand gently. He felt a familiar thrill at the touch, a warmth that hadn’t faded even after three years together. He shifted the car into gear and pulled out onto the road, your fingers still entwined.

As he drove, you began to reminisce, laughter and warmth filling the car like a cocoon around you. Felix brought up the first moments of that evening, how he’d stood outside the café for a good ten minutes before working up the courage to walk in, rehearsing his opening line in his head.

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Really? You seemed so calm and collected,” you teased, squeezing his hand. “I never would’ve guessed.”

He let out a sheepish laugh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “Trust me, I was far from calm. I was so distracted I could barely focus on my coffee. I kept thinking I’d mess it up somehow, like maybe I’d say the wrong thing, or you’d think I was boring. But then…you started telling me that story about the stray beagle you tried to adopt when you were seven, and all my nerves just melted away. I knew right then that we’d get along.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you chuckled, covering your mouth as you recalled the story you had shared with him that night. “Oh, you mean the one where I tried to sneak a neighbour’s dog into the house and pretended he was a stray so my parents would let me keep him?”

Felix laughed too, shaking his head. “Yes, exactly. That’s when I knew you were something special—this mix of sweet and bold and just the right amount of mischievous. I could’ve listened to you talk all night.”

You looked down at your entwined hands, your smile softening. “And you…you had this quiet way about you, like you were listening to every single word. You looked at me like I was the only person in the world.” He paused, glancing at you with a tender smile. “You still do.”

You felt your heart swell, and he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across your knuckles. “That’s because you are, Felix.”

The rest of the drive was filled with the warmth of shared memories and soft laughter, each story making you feel as if you were falling in love all over again.

When you reached the café, Felix parked the car and quickly stepped around to your side to open the door, his hand outstretched as if he were holding something fragile and priceless. You took his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his grip as he helped you out. For a moment, you stood there, side by side, taking in the sight of the little coffee shop on Rose Street, its windows softly glowing in the early evening light.

Felix looked over at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Ready to go back in time?”

You smiled back, and you walked toward the entrance, hand in hand. Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped by the warm, rich scent of freshly ground coffee, mingled with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon from the pastries in the display case. The coffee shop hadn’t changed at all in three years—the same wooden tables, mismatched chairs, and bookshelves lined the walls. The hum of conversation from other patrons filled the cosy space.

Felix led you to the corner booth near the window, the same one you had shared on your first date. It was a small, intimate spot with just enough space for two people to sit close, overlooking the street outside. As you slid into your old seats, Felix’s grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling as if he were holding onto a delicious secret.

You looked around, taking in the nostalgic setting, your heart fluttering with memories. “This place…it feels exactly the same,” you murmured, tracing your fingers along the edge of the table. “Do you remember how nervous we were? I could barely keep my hands from shaking.”

Felix chuckled, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Oh, I remember,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “But look at us now. Three years later, and I’m still sitting here wondering how I got lucky enough to find you.”

Your eyes met, and for a moment, you both fell silent, wrapped in a feeling that needed no words. The waitress arrived, breaking the spell, and without even glancing at the menu, Felix ordered your old drinks: a hot chocolate for himself and a chamomile tea for you, just as it had been that first night.

As you waited for your drinks, Felix slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded note. “Remember this?” he asked, his voice soft but tinged with excitement.

Curious, You reached for the note, unfolding it slowly. Your eyes widened, and you let out a soft gasp as you took in the small, hand-drawn cartoon of a floppy-eared beagle, a familiar detail from the kidnapped beagle story. Underneath, in Felix’s handwriting, were the words “Our First Memory,” with a tiny, delicate heart drawn just above the dog’s head.

“You kept this?” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You looked up at him, your eyes glistening. “All this time?”

Felix’s expression softened, and he nodded, his gaze steady and warm. “I’ve kept everything,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing yours on the table. “Every note, every ticket stub, every little memory. I want to remember every little thing about us. I never want to forget even a single moment.”

You felt your heart swell, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. You looked back down at the drawing, your fingers brushing over the lines of the little beagle, drawn with such care and love. This wasn’t just a reminder of your first date—it was a symbol of everything Felix had come to mean to you.

Your drinks arrived, and as you lifted your cups in a small toast to each other, you couldn’t help but think of how far you'd come, from the nervous excitement of that first date to the deep, steady love you shared now. Felix took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes never leaving your face, and you felt a little flutter in your chest, just as you had three years ago. You could feel the weight of his gaze and gave him a playful smile over the rim of your cup. you knew at that moment that no matter how many years passed, this memory—and every other memory you'd built together—would be cherished for a lifetime.

You lingered over your drinks, letting your conversation drift naturally between reminiscing and laughter. Felix brought up little details you had forgotten, moments you hadn’t realised he’d noticed. “Do you remember how I nearly spilled my coffee?” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I was so distracted that night, trying to focus on what you were saying, but all I could think about was how I’d never met anyone like you.”

You laughed, covering your mouth as you remembered. “Oh, yes! You were gripping that mug like it was a lifeline!” you teased. “I actually thought you didn’t like me, you were so quiet.” you paused, your eyes dancing as you looked back at him. “And yet here we are.”

Felix reached across the table, taking your free hand in his. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, a simple touch that made your heart skip. “I was nervous because I liked you so much. And then…” He chuckled, leaning back a little, “you started laughing, and I was done for. I still remember your laugh from that night—how you tried to hide it with your hand, like you were embarrassed.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing. “I was! But then I saw the look on your face, like you were seeing something amazing. I don’t think anyone had ever looked at me like that before.” You glanced down, feeling the warmth spread through your body, then looked back up at him with a soft smile. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you.”

You continued talking about that night, each detail unfolding like pages in a cherished storybook. Felix told you how he’d noticed the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, how your voice softened when you talked about things that mattered to you, and how when you left the café that night, he’d already known he wanted to hold your hand, even though he was too shy to make the first move.

As you finished your drinks, Felix leaned in, his voice low and sincere. “That night…I knew it was only the beginning. And now, every time I’m with you, I feel the same way.”

You squeezed his hand, your heart full. “I feel it too.”

You sat in quiet contentment for a moment, watching the café come to life around you, the other customers and clinking glasses a comforting backdrop. Finally, Felix took your hand again, helping you up, and together you left the café, stepping out into the evening light.

The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and gold as you began your walk to the park just a few blocks away. You walked in a companionable silence, hand in hand, as the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the trees that lined the path. The air was crisp and tinged with the faint scent of autumn leaves. As you strolled along the winding trails, Felix pulled you a little closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You meandered down paths you had walked three years ago, paths where you’d once laughed nervously, unsure of where things would lead. But now, you walked with an ease and familiarity that only time and love could bring, each step feeling as natural as breathing.

As you reached a clearing where the last light of day settled over the lake, Felix stopped and turned to you, a warm, tender smile on his face. He brushed a stray hair from your cheek, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than usual.

“Three years ago, I didn’t know what life would be like with you,” he murmured, his voice soft. “But now…I can’t imagine my life without you.”

You looked into his eyes, your own heart full as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Neither can I,” you whispered.

You continued your walk as the last rays of sunlight faded, your hands entwined as naturally as if you had been made to fit together.

As you strolled along the path, the world around you grew quiet, the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle hum of crickets filling the air. The evening light faded to dusk, casting a peaceful glow over the park. Eventually, you approached a secluded spot where a small pond lay nestled among trees. The water was still, reflecting the fading colours of the sky above, and a faint mist rose from its surface, lending an ethereal beauty to the scene.

Felix slowed, glancing over at you as if gauging the perfect moment. He gently squeezed your hand, bringing you to a stop beside the pond’s edge. The serene quiet seemed to stretch between you, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat, and for a moment, you simply stood there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence.

Finally, Felix turned to face you, his expression tender and serious. “I have one more memory for us to make tonight,” he said, his voice soft but carrying a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

Your breath caught, your pulse quickening as you saw him reach into his jacket pocket, your mind racing with the possibilities of what this moment could hold. Your eyes widened as his hand emerged, holding a small velvet box—a box that, even before it opened, seemed to hold a thousand promises. You could feel your heart flutter wildly, your gaze locked on his face as he took a deep, steadying breath and with a graceful certainty, dropped down onto one knee.

The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you together. His gaze fixed on yours with such love and vulnerability that your eyes filled with tears. In the soft glow of dusk, Felix looked up at you, his expression a beautiful blend of hope and devotion, but you could see the flicker of nerves in his eyes, a touch of uncertainty that made him all the more endearing.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice steady but thick with feeling, “for three years, you’ve filled my life with laughter, love, and more happiness than I could ever hope for.” His hand, still holding the box, trembled slightly as he spoke, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve made me feel more understood, more whole, and more alive than I ever knew I could be. I want to keep walking this path with you—for as many years as you’ll have me.”

He opened the small box, revealing a delicate, shimmering ring nestled inside—a perfect symbol of the life he wanted to share with you. The diamond caught the fading light, casting a small glimmer between you, but you barely saw it; all you could focus on was Felix, his face filled with so much love and hope.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, each word carrying the weight of his love for you.

Your heart overflowed, your hand flying to your mouth as you took in the depth of his words, the sincerity in his gaze. Your vision blurred with tears, and you nodded, a joyful, choked laugh escaping you as you found your voice. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion, then, louder, “Yes, Felix. Yes, I’ll marry you!”

A radiant smile spread across his face as he rose to his feet, and you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly as he slipped the ring onto your finger. You stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling as if the world had stopped just for you, as if time itself wanted to savour this perfect moment.

In that quiet spot by the pond, as the first stars appeared in the sky above, you shared a gentle, lingering kiss—a kiss that promised a lifetime of memories still to be made, side by side.

As you sat down, wrapping your arms around each other, time seemed to slow, as if the whole universe was holding its breath to honour the moment you had just shared. The soft glow of the fading sunset bathed everything around you in warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the ground. The trees whispered in the breeze, their leaves rustling gently, as though nature itself was quietly celebrating their love.

Felix held you close, his cheek resting against the top of your head, the warmth of your body pressed against his. You sat in peaceful silence, the air between you filled with unspoken words. There was something so right, so completely perfect about this moment. It was as if you had circled back to where it all began—this very path where you’d walked together three years ago, sharing tentative smiles, shy glances, and stories of your lives. Now, you sat side by side in the stillness, your hearts beating together, knowing you had just created something even more special.

You leaned back slightly, your fingers gently tracing the edge of the ring on your finger, still overwhelmed by the beauty of what had just happened. You looked up at Felix, your eyes soft and filled with emotion. He gazed back at you with the same tenderness, the same love that had been there from the very beginning. There was no rush, no need to say anything else. In that quiet, sacred moment, you understood that you had just created another memory on this path—a memory to join all the others that had led you here, to this place where you had chosen to build your future together.

It was as if the entire evening had been a beautiful thread, weaving together your past, your present, and your future. The setting sun, now sinking below the horizon, cast its last rays over you, and you realised that this memory would too be one you carried in your hearts forever. Just like all the others—your first date, your first kiss, the moments of joy and challenges you had faced together—it would stay with you, a constant reminder of how far you had come and how deeply you loved each other.

Hi hiiii, 2nd fic kinda nervous. This wasn't the one I thought I was gonna post but I felt like the other one was taking too long to finish so I decided to just post this one for now :3 This one actually has a happy ending since I managed to break all your hearts last time 🥲 I hope you guys enjoy it!

#stray kids#bang chan#bang chan x reader#stray kids imagines#bang chan x y/n#skz x reader#skz imagines#stray kids angst#bang chan angst#bang chan imagines#skz x female reader#skz fanfic#skz angst#chan x y/n#skz fic#stray kids x you#chan angst#chan fic#chan x female reader#chan x male reader#chan x g/n reader#skz x male reader

#stray kids #felix #felix fluff #felix x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #felix x y/n #stray kids x y/n #felix x gn reader #felix x female reader #felix x male reader #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #skz #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz x you #stray kids x you #skz fic

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s0fter-sin · 1 day ago

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(cw non-sexual kink, cis male tiddy sucking)

nikolai takes one look at ghost - at the stiffness he holds himself with, arms held rigidly at his sides as he glares ahead, each breath carefully measured to make himself unnoticed - and knows it’s been too long since he’s checked on his boy

all it takes is a single look, catching his bruised and tired eyes, and ghost all but slumps. nikolai turns, heading towards the 141’s private rec room and he doesn’t need to hear the near-silent footsteps to know ghost’s following. he pulls him down onto the couch, bringing him into the circle of his arms even as he weakly tries to pull away

“don’t need it, nik; don’t have time…” ghost argues but it’s hollow at best

“hush, sweet one,” he soothes his halfhearted protests and thumbs his mask up above his lips. “always so nervous; so lost...”

he tugs his shirt up, showing off his belly and the heavy swell of his hairy pecs; nipples already pebbled. he cups the back of ghost’s head, his thumb brushing over his exposed jaw and ghost is helpless to follow as he gently leads him to latch onto his breast

“i have you,” he promises

no matter how big he is, in presence or in stature, nikolai is bigger; encompassing his whole body in warmth and safety, the familiar scent of cologne and motor oil filling his senses just as the heat of his tit fills his mouth

ghost’s eyes roll back and he nuzzles deeper into his chest, sinking into him and lets his mind empty as he suckles

soap didn’t mean to. he didn’t mean to walk in on something not meant for his eyes. he just wanted to check on ghost; he’s been so distant lately, different from his usual bad days and he doesn’t know how to help him but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try

but he didn’t mean for this; for guilt and a heated, confused want to chase through him as he enters the rec room and realises nikolai got to ghost first

realises they’re not just necking on the couch; that ghost’s lips are pressed tight to nikolai’s furred breast and not moving away, a gentle hollow thinning his exposed cheeks as he sucks, his throat softly bobbing as he swallows

nikolai’s cupping the back of his head, fingers drifting through the blonde hair at the nape of his neck and he looks so fond; like there’s nowhere he’d rather be than on their broken in couch with ghost curled around his body, sucking what must be a deep ache into his tit.

then nikolai looks up at him, frozen in the doorway and soap-

soap runs

nikolai gives soap a few days before he tries to talk about it; gives him a chance to come to terms with what he's seen. it's almost adorable; how deep soap’s flush grows when he sees him, how he stumbles over his words and can’t quite make eye contact

but it also tugs at him that he feels the need to shrink, to brace himself from whatever punishment he thinks is headed his way; shoulders hunching in, arms wrapped almost defensively around his body before finding whatever excuse he can to run from him

run from himself

he wishes he could wait for soap to come to him but he knows lost boys and their fear of coming in from the cold

nikolai keeps himself gentle as he uses his bulk to corner soap; stopping him from running but also using it to show how easily he could hide in him if he just let himself give in. if he let him take care of him the same way he takes care of ghost

"but... but it's wrong," soap whispers, fingers tangling with a gold cross at the hollow of his throat (a cross so similar to one he’d melted down all those years ago), but he speaks with such clear longing; eyes wide where he stares up at him, all but begging to be told otherwise and it almost breaks nikolai's heart

"no, lovely boy," he denies softly and soap shudders as he cups his face and backs him up against the corner; hugged by both walls and nikolai himself. "there is nothing more natural."

he caresses soap's cheek. he feels him shake under his touch, his eyes already growing dewy, and chances drifting his fingers over his bottom lip. soap's breath hitches and he looks up at him with so much fear - so much trust - and hesitantly opens his mouth to let them sink inside

nikolai doesn't press them too deep, doesn't threaten his throat, but they are thick and wide; filling his mouth and comfortably weighing down his tongue

with a small, involuntary moan, soap closes his lips around his fingers and nikolai catches him with his body as he goes limp. he coos as he starts sucking; wrapping his other arm around his head and brings him into his body, hidden and safe and small

"my good, lovely boy," he whispers and soap lets out a cracked whimper. "you are not wrong."

he isn't ready yet, much the same way ghost wasn't ready at first. but feeling soap tremble and suckle at his fingers, nikolai knows he'll soon have another boy tucked safe to his breast

#soap thinking it’s wrong not bc nikolai and ghost are men (though that’s part of it)#but bc he knows the church would see it as a bastardisation of the virgin mary #the mother feeding christ; the ultimate act of care and love #and it must be a perversion; it must be a twisted imitation of something pure #right?#it cant be something genuine; pure; bc if ghost can have it… does thst mean he can too?#soap desperate for such comfort and acceptance; things he thinks he’ll never receive #bc he knows he’ll never be worthy of such things #never devout enough; never loyal enough; never well behaved enough #shaming his family and his church along with it every time he opened his mouth #he constantly chases this elusive ‘good enough’; always forced himself to be better; stronger; /perfect/#bc then it will mean he’ll have earned it right? he’ll be given the love he’s always yearned for but always fell short of #and nikolai who was raised russian orthodox? all he can see is a burnt out reflection of himself #he recognises the same longing he used to feel before he realised he will never be enough for them #that they want him to be a man he will despise and even then he’ll still be denied the comfort he wanted #and he doesnt want that; for ghost or soap #he’ll give them everything they want and more until they understand everything they deserve #we’re a team. ghost team #coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #nikolaighost #nikghost #nikolai x ghost #niksoap #nikolaisoap #nikolai x soap #cod nikolai #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod

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just-a-little-silly · 2 days ago

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“Yeah…”

A smile graced Aru’s lips as she remembered that night. They really did talk until the sun came up. He’d somehow managed to crack her impassive exterior, bring forth the warmth in her eyes, her smile.

That night he’d wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up and spun her around in the moonlight. And when he did lower her, it was to place a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth, hold her against him while looking up at her with that stupidly beautiful blue eye.

How could she forget that? That playfulness, the joy of it all.

“Shingen…Shingen just cares too much. Listen, I’ve…not all the men I’ve liked were good guys, I guess he’d scared I’ll hurt myself again. Which, you know, fair but…eh. He’s got that scary dad energy when he wants to , I guess?”

She looked up at him.

“Don’t apologize to me either. You’re not in the wrong, I don’t wanna hear it.”

She thought for a moment.

“Play around and still be in love? But what if I don’t want to play anymore Masamune…what if I want…more? What if I’m…I’m too afraid to be irresponsible when it’s about you and me?”

She shook her head.

“Nevermind. Uh,” Her voice was thick with emotion, “Just don’t ever stop playing with me, I guess. Whatever that means.”

“And don’t worry about Shingen. Give him some sweet buns and you’ll be his favorite person of the week.”

—————

“Akira, it is my professional opinion as a seasoned warlord and commander, spymaster- that you’ve not failed anyone.”

Shingen retorted firm, in his belief of what he was saying.

“I would never make you do what you didn’t want to. Never. If you wish to leave the Mitsumono, you don’t need my permission. But as a man so deeply, irrevocably in love with you, I humbly ask that you do not leave my side.”

The thought made him sick. Suffocated him to such a degree he didn’t wish to think on it,

“Please.”

Masamune shows up for the evening meal. He finds plenty of skeptical expressions when the one-eyed dragon waltzed in to Kai. But assuring them he was simply looking for a ninja named Akira seemed to sooth them a little.

It was a little unexpected, however, to find Akira sitting next to Lord Shingen Takeda himself. It really wasn’t very ninja-like behavior. And neither was her red faced reaction when she noticed he entered the room.

@masamuneskitchen

Shingen’s eyes narrow was the one-eyes dragon of Oshu stepped into the hall where dinner for the Takeda forces had been arranged. His arm instantly tightened around Akira.

Curious about why the man was here and eager to cut to the chase, he called out.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Date Masamune?”

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acourtofquestions · 12 days ago

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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

#Chapter 61 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Lorcan Salvaterre #Elide Lochan #Elorcan #Aelin Galathynius #Chaol Westfall #Rowan Whitethorn #Fenrys Moonbeam #Gavriel #First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 61 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below #Agony was in his very blood-Summons-She had come for him-Let go.No.Always?-She came this far-THANK YOU ELIDE-The voice of Perranth #My lady-Together till the end-if only the horse could Fly-A prayer-Made himself watch-But Aelin-hell yes-So he might tell the story #Not forgotten-For her friends-To get Aelin-Where was she?MY HEART-The shaking was her-The springs-He knew-Three months #Every single day-But for Maeve’s meant for Maeve-she knew he’d know-his power the counteracting-GET FUCKING DOWN-She had not given up #A thousand years for here months endured & one moment-Spent here-To save them-Burnout or Blessing-UTTER Awe-A miracle #A curse to enemies-All of them really-she drained the bank & there he was-THE FIRE BRINGER-glowing blinding white out for the world #she became the flame-Master of death-heir of Fire-Nothing remained-That’s what was eating her alive-Its grief but more-she was still—#capturing flame-She didnt want2lose it either-It was all of it-But also Aelin had a plan-be glad4it-They would save them she didnt need it #Back to Aelin-She began fighting-Quiet-Fell to what he knows-Sweet darkness-the power dive #No.#You know it’s bad when Rowan’s prayingWhen even Yrene is praying but not save to give peace&painless ends but Aelin’s off to save the day #Not for the Lock not for Erawan. But for Maeve's death blow. & now to save Elide; Marion would be proud #the way he’s thinking about I’ve gotta get Aelin out of here #Into the burning heart of the world. — the world shuddered #Aelin I am a god Galathynius-The raging soul of a flame-thats her-shed made the final descent right then for Elide-Rowan plummeted for her #Spent here to save the army that might mean Terrasens salvation-not2kill2spareNoblessinNocurseMiracleWomanA war won-friends held him up #One hell of a rumor-Gentle from the north-Malas Heir-she had sung to the darkness&flame&they had sung backthe same story #GETDOWN.Back into Aelin he was there there how did he get there so fast?sweet darkness 1 last time

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screampied · 7 months ago

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if requests are open, can we see nanami x breeding kink? i know he would be the perfect daddy 💕

❤︎ ໋𓈒 husband nanami finding out he has a breeding kink.

warnings. fem! reader, mating press, breeding kink, praise, soft dom nanami, mdni.

breeding.

he wouldn’t even know he had such a kink until afterwards, finishing inside of you for about the third time with hot puffs of air running from his lips.

his eyes, dark brown pools that intently stared into yours, he’s in utter love with you and only you. your current position was supine—your legs would be perfectly sprawled and spread for him. mating press, such a deep and thorough angle. so deep to where you were practically seeing stars.

“… you drive me crazy, you know that?” he’d huff out lowly between rough breaths. you stare at him with glossy eyes, a hand softly clinging onto his wrist. he was always so gentle, deep yet precise strokes to make you feel every inch. such eyebrows of his curl up and furrow as he intakes a single sharp breath, the feeling of such thick ropes spewing inside your walls makes him groan. “always s—so good at milking me.”

sloppy hips thwack and drill into you, and that’s when he leans right up close to you—you’re met with lust filled fawn eyes and a needy smile.

“ah. eyes up here, wanna see that pretty face,” and his tempo was so unhinged. you glance up at him and he mutters off a soft, “hi my love,” and you could have just melted right there. nanami lightly presses a hand against your tummy, a thumb swiftly tracing near the exact spot where he was reaching you inside. so full, you moan before he leans in to kiss you, yet instead, he conceals his own whine into the crook of your neck. “this—tummy would look so pretty if it was nice ‘n round for me like last time.”

the very corners of your lips tugs, it outlines into a sweet pout before you whimper, “make me fuller then, kento,” you’d heave out. he was jackhammering such merciless yet tenderly passionate thrusts into your cunt, effortlessly smacking back against you. “wanna f-feel fuller.”

you had the white bed sheets bawl into the palms of your hands. everything felt so warm, his hips just continued to rotate and jerk and jerk and jerk. it was hypnotic, he knew just where to prod the head of his cock right against you.

you’re nearly drooling. just imagining such lengthy ropes of his pump you full. you wanted it, no—you needed it. desperately, you were practically being fucked into the mattress—the mattress in question creaked and sang in such harmony it was hard not to ignore its sounds.

the entire feeling, you were clamping down on him so tight that his jaw tenses. a simple sight like that was oh so sexy in the slightest, nanami lightly bites down on his lip. a cute flushed expression slowly painting over his face once he catches you still staring. he was chasing his own breath, giving you slow yet perfect full vivacious thrusts.

“k-kento,” you’d moan with a slight gasp, he brings a hand to slide your arms all the way up. it’s almost teasing, the way he makes you hold your hands high, a soft simper rests against his lips the entire time. your legs quaver, feeling how easy it was for him to stretch you out. his touch, it was blisteringly hot, blisteringly tender.

he made sure to delicately trace his fingers all over your skin. he wouldn’t dare miss a spot. not with a body as perfect as yours. that’s what he saw in his eyes anyway. “so—so goooood, don’t s-stop baby.”

“wasn’t gonna,” he huffs out, and his voice was so raspy and rich. a subtle coarse of baritone hidden underneath his deep tone. you peer up at him and he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. “if my princess wants to feel more full, i’ll do just that. give her anything she wants.”

you whimper, feeling him hit such a sensitive angle, he hit it just right too.

the crown of his dick made its way through every crevice of your walls. he reached in spots that you didn’t think he’d reach — not at all, you failed to hide your moans by this point and he thought you sounded so cute. knowing he was the one to make you sound like this, feel this way, it made him happy. that’s all he wanted, your pleasure was his pleasure.

every. single. spot.

whilst your toes curled, you feel your back start to seemingly arch on its own before even more sweetened whimpers fly past your sheeny lips. “give m-me,” you started to speak. he raises a brow marginally, brushing a thumb against your lower lip before feeling himself about to bottom out. at that point, he was fully inside, you felt it and you only mewled out a candied, “give me another baby kento. please.”

“oh,” he softly murmurs, and his tongue playfully licks against your neck—a sweet lap, he savored your taste before teasingly starting to nibble.

“gonna give you triplets this time,” and he brings a hand down your chest, then towards your stomach, real slow. you moan once he gingerly lifts up your leg before giving your ankle a kiss. “this what you want, sweetheart? more of this? more of … me?”

“yes,” you pout, feeling your cunt just swallowing his hefty shack, his base smacks back and forth against you to where you’re almost giddy. you felt like you were on cloud nine, nanami’s strokes, his thrusts hell, his enticing rhythm had you nearly speechless. you let off a soft meek once the shivering cold metal of his watch band slithers against your skin.

the more he touched you, the more close you became to making yet another mess on him. of course, like the good husband he was, nanami would happily clean you up.

“y-yes, kento,” you repeat in a honeyed voice, by this point, your legs were well wrapped around his waist. fully having him in a secure lock, not ever thinking to let go, you couldn’t nor did you want to. he drove into your gummy walls so good that you let off the sugared most melodic moans right up against his earlobe. “want…..another baby.”

“i know you do,” he hushes, bringing a chaste kiss towards your collarbone. you swallow a thick imaginary lump that grew into your throat. only tiny squeaks would come out — you moaned, tightening your legs hold around him before you started to picture such fanciful things.

fanciful things like nanami pouring yet another a thick load into you, and as you’re deep in thought he’s doing just that. a gasp gets caught in his lips before he leans up close to you. his broad chest presses up against you before he groans. out of all the notorious enemies he’s had to fight, he was simply no match for your pussy. its grip had him being the one with his eyes nearly rolling back.

“f-fuck,” and you felt yourself throb, making direct eye contact with him. it was rare, yet hearing nanami swear was so infrequent.

it was the way he swore, spewing out such filthy words underneath his breath. long ruffled strands of messy hair nearly occluding his view of vision. he reaches to move some of his hair away from his face, just so he could get a good glimpse of you—a good glimpse of his wife.

“look at me,” he says in a soft tone, he was buried so deep within you, you saw how his muscles tensed and his jaw tightened. he made his hips come to a halt completely before he leans in to gift you with another kiss. “mwah,” he smooches near your jawline, “mwah,” near your chin, and a final kiss near your lips.

your heart, it fluttered.

nanami felt warm all over his body, as well as the sheer warmth that coated him from being inside you. “i—i love you,” you’d whine, feeling such massive velvet ropes of cum going all inside of you. he merely lets off a purr at the way the back of your heel skims down his back. “so much.”

“i love you,” he returns it. his mouth briefly opens, and he was about to say ‘more’ but he pauses. nanami’s weight was still hovering over you before he brings a same big hand down towards your tummy. “now, we wait. you’re such a good mommy for me, sweetheart.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #anime smut #female reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months ago

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keeping LOGAN HOWLETT company when you notice him having a bad day

implied fem!reader. grumpy x sunshine. fluff

idk when this is set, bc xmen timelines confuse the fuck out of me. and yeah sorry, another fic for him. I can’t stop with ideas, im like a freight train

It wasn’t always easy to deal with Logan when he was this way – his grumpy, closed-off self retreating into his once far more reserved ways. Sometimes after a bad day he’d shut himself off, only finding the comfort at the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle.

He has to remember he has you now. He’s no longer alone.

He’s out on the porch, sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees with a crystal tumbler clasped in hand. It was starting to rain, the clouds spitting as if to add insult to injury – the weather mirroring his feelings.

You wanted to give him time – give a moment for him to come to you. But as you see the rain fall harder, his exposed self sitting under a heavy patch of downpour, you grab your umbrella from its nook by the front door.

You open the door slowly, trying not to startle him with the abrupt noise.

“Hi,” you say, voice soft. “Can I keep you company?” you ask, hesitant footing keeping you in place.

He nods, moving the bottle from his side to between his booted feet – making space for you. He keeps his eyes ahead, looking out into the forest.

You sit beside him, holding the umbrella higher up to shield you both, scooting in closer when you notice parts of him left out under the covering.

“Do uh—” you stall, turning to look at the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, speaking carefully as not push him away further.

“Nothing much to say,” he murmurs, words quiet and distracted as he swirls the amber liquid in the glass – eyes focused as he watches its motion.

You pause and fiddle with the handle of the brolly, uncertain of what to say. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, but instead, it was the opposite. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want your keenness to act as a repellent. So you wait, trying to find the words he wants to hear. Not what you think he wants to hear.

And then you realise, the reason it was so hard to find words, is because no words should even be said at all. Words often hold no meaning, but actions, they do. He doesn't want verbal comfort, but instead something physical, something silent and earnest.

So you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into him as if to voicelessly show your care – the act sweet and gentle. He raises his glass to take a sip only to pause, pulling it away as if he was questioning its use. His eyes focused on the small amount at the bottom like he was debating with himself.

But he decides against it, placing the tumbler aside – his now free hand finding itself reaching over your shoulders to pull you into him. He takes the umbrella from your hand, holding it as he shields you both from the rain – replacing your job as he thought it to be his.

And like him, your hand now empty, you find yourself reaching behind him – wrapping an arm around his back as if to further the comfort. You nuzzle your head into his burly shoulder, nestling against him as you both look out into the vast expanse of greyscale brown and green.

“I’m here when you’re ready.”

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett comfort #logan howlett x you #logan howlett xmen #logan howlett fanfiction #logan x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan xmen #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine

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januaryembrs · 8 months ago

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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader

request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.

description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined

word count: 1.1k

main masterlist

authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))

Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of.

It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius.

You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug.

“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey.

“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”

“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,”

“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.

“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake.

“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,”

You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all.

“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.

“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being.

Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times.

The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.

He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million.

“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love.

“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”

“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,”

Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash.

“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?”

“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”

A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?”

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

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spencerreidenjoyer · 2 months ago

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we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve.

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it.

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar.

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you.

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp.

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room.

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you.

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end.

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do.

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect.

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch.

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock.

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy.

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person.

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit.

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point.

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend.

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off.

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him.

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big.

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion.

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him.

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them.

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his.

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you.

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer.

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is.

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot.

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought.

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart.

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?”

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one.

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum.

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his.

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame.

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out.

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers.

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say.

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.”

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender.

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling.

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take.

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind.

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes

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yandere-writer-momo · 10 months ago

Text

The final part of Mommy! First part

Yandere Short Stories: Mommy

Delusional Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader x Platonic Yandere Son

Jesse wrapped his arms around (your name)‘s legs, the small boy hummed in contentment when she ran her fingers through his black curls. Why couldn’t she be his mom? She was so warm and gentle… so much better than the woman who gave birth to him.

“Jesse? I think your nanny is waiting to take you home.” (Your name) smiled down at Jesse who only burrowed himself further into her skirts. She sighed at how clingy the young boy was, but she was sympathetic to his feelings. Jesse didn’t have any warmth in his home so he sought it out from her.

“I don’t want to go home… can’t I stay with you?” Jesse glanced up at her with his blue puppy dog eyes, his lips in a pout. “Can’t you just adopt me, I’ll be good…”

“Jesse, I can’t adopt you.” (Your name) felt her heart clench when he started to cry. “Jesse-“

“But all the other kids have a mommy and I don’t! I want to be read stories and I want homemade lunches. I don’t want to be alone!” Jesse buried his face into (your name)’s skirts. His little hands clutched tightly onto the cotton fabric in a death grip. “I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be quiet and I won’t ask for much-“

(Your name)’s thumbs instantly brushed away the hot tears that dribbled down his soft cheeks to smooth the young boy. Her beautiful face now in a frown.

“Shh… you can come hang out with me when you’re lonely at school.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Jesse. She ran her fingers through his thick curls as he sniffled.

“R-really? You’ll let me spend time with you?” Jesse’s voice trembled as he tried to calm his tears. “Can I eat lunch with you everyday? I like when you cut the crust off my sandwiches…”

“Of course, Jesse.” (Your name) reassured Jesse, who buried his face in her skirts once more. This sweet boy… he deserved love.

Unbeknownst to (your name), Jesse had a wicked smile on his sweet face that was hidden in her skirts.

Jesse may have been the spit image of Liam, but he was still his birth mother’s son… and (your name) would be his mommy one way or another.

Jesse often hogged (your name)’s attention from the other children. He’d rush to her first whenever class would start or end to hug her, he’d raise his hand for every question so he could be praised, and he’d constantly ask for help.

Jesse was not liked by the other children but he didn’t care all that much about them.

Because Jesse wanted his mommy to only have eyes for him.

Liam felt nervous at the florist shop he was in. The various floral displays of affection made his stomach twist into a knot. He was so nervous… to buy apology flowers for his son’s teacher.

Liam ran a hand through his dark hair with a sigh. This was an incredibly frustrating experience for him since he’s never bought a gift for a woman before. Especially not one as lovely as (your name). Liam couldn’t get her angry expression out of his head… she haunted his dreams and lingered in the crannies in his mind.

She was an itch he couldn’t scratch and Liam disliked this alien feeling she brought out. Liam didn’t know why his heart pounded in his chest at the thought of her or why his cheeks heated up. It made him anxious.

“And what can I help you with today, sir?” The florist smiled warmly at Liam who nearly jumped out of his skin. Liam had been so lost in his thoughts, the florist had caught him off guard.

“I think I would like a bouquet of roses…” Liam’s forest green eyes glanced at the red roses in interest. “The reddest ones you have.”

(Your name) would look lovely in red… Liam couldn’t help the image of her in a red dress that surfaced in his mind. He didn’t quite understand his attraction toward her, but he hoped it would fade.

Liam stood before (your name) in her classroom, his cheeks rosy as he studied her expression. Her arms held the fragrant roses in confusion.

“Mister Isbert? There was no need to get me roses-“

“I’m sorry for making presumptions about your character. It was unjust of me.” Liam bowed to (your name) in apology. “Please forgive me-“

Liam gasped when she moved closer to him, which and whom snap his head up in attention. His forest green eyes wide when she gave him such a warm smile… he’s never seen a smile like that directed toward him in his entire life.

“It’s perfectly okay. I understand you may have been through some trauma but I assure you I’m not after those sorts of things with you.” (Your name) then turned her gaze toward Jesse who peaked around the corner of the classroom. It seemed the young boy was eager to enter. “I’m just concerned for Jesse is all-“

“I do not know how to be a good father…” Liam shyly admitted, his forest green eyes focused on her confused expression. “I have never been taught warmth.”

“Well I have no issue teaching you how to spend time with a child… if you’d like of course, mister Isbert.” (Your name) smiled at Liam whose cheeks went aflame.

“I’d love to…” Liam cleared his throat and gave (your name) a soft smile. “And please, call me Liam.”

The two adults smiled warmly at each other which made Jesse perk up from his spot. Maybe he’d get her to be his mommy after all…

(Your name) laughed when Liam tried to tie Jesse’s shoe laces. The businessman was clueless…

“Here, let me help.” (Your name) gently took the shoelaces from Liam and slowly tied them in front of him. “The dragon goes under the bridge, through the loop, and into the castle!”

Jesse giggled at the rhyme, his eyes sparkled at his dad. “See! Mommy knows how to tie shoes!”

Liam blushed in embarrassment when (your name) and Jesse shared a laugh. He never knew how simple this was… how a family should be.

“Why don’t we read a book together?”

Liam glanced over at (your name) while she picked out a fairy tale. A ray of sunlight hit her at the perfect angle that made her even more angelic.

Liam never knew someone could be so beautiful…

Weeks went by of Liam’s ‘lessons’ of fatherhood. The two adults would laugh together as (your name) tried to teach him how to be more affectionate with his son, unaware that the businessman started to be affectionate with her as well… Liam came to terms that he loved her.

Liam loved the young woman who was eager to help him mend his relationship with his son and teach him how to love. To not take out his trauma onto Jesse and to be more open to change.

Liam became a better person by being around (your name) and he had no interest in going back to the way his life was before he got to know her better. The two of them were truly a power couple! She’s shown him a new side of life he never knew existed… who knew Jesse would indirectly introduce Liam to his soulmate?

Liam blushed as he sat at his desk, his head filled with thoughts of (your name). The image of her holding Liam in her arms burned in his mind.

How could someone look so perfect holding his child?

Liam dug into his desk drawer and pulled out one of the many drawing Jesse had made of (your name) and him. The three of them as a happy family.

Liam lit up a cigar and took a deep inhale of the smoke. Yes… he’d ask her to be his wife. To be Jesse’s mom.

Liam held the picture close to his chest. He needed to tell her how he felt… of how he loved her.

Liam upped security around the school as usual since he dropped by for the lessons. Liam wanted to ensure this entire ordeal remained private, he had no desire to add more stress onto poor (your name)’s life… today, they were gong to become an official family.

Liam sighed dreamily as he thought of what was about to happen today. (Your name) would be so beautiful as his wife and future mother of more children. He wondered how many siblings Jesse would like? To add onto their perfect family.

“Is there something wrong, Liam?” Liam perked up when (your name) softly called his name, she was careful not to disturb the sleeping Jesse in her arms. “You’ve been lost in space for a while now.”

“Would you be interested in dating me?” Liam’s blunt question nearly made (your name) fall over in shock. Date him? Where on earth did he get the idea that she wanted that sort of relationship with him?

“I don’t think we should.” (Your name) smiled warmly at Liam who frowned at her gentle rejection. “You’re a CEO of a big corporation and I’m just a measly kindergarten teacher.”

“I could take care of you.” Liam whispered softly. “You’d never struggle financially and you could be with Jesse every day. Don’t you want Jesse to be happy?”

(Your name) glanced down at the young boy who remained asleep. She did care about Jesse… but not enough to date his father.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that.” (Your name) sighed softly as she handed Jesse to Liam to take. “I hope you find someone on your level to be with, Liam.”

Liam could only sit on the floor in shock when she walked to her desk to gather her belongings. She didn’t want him? Why didn’t she want him?

Liam tried to speak but he couldn’t find the words to stop her. How could he tell her he’s never felt this way before? That he wanted her? That he-

“I love you!” (Your name) froze in the doorway when Liam blurted out his declaration of love.

“W-what-“ Liam scrambled to his feet to try to stand before her. His lithe body hovered over her like a shadow.

“I love you and I’ve never felt this way before… please give me a chance.”

“I’m sorry, Liam-“

“I won’t accept no as an answer.” Liam felt his stomach twist but he needed to get her to be his… he needed her. “I’ll ruin your life if you don’t accept my love. I’ve never wanted anything in my life as much as I want you.”

Jesse stirred awake in Liam’s arms, the young boy’s eyes wide at his father’s words. “Become Jesse’s mom. I’m serious about being with you.”

“I-“ (your name) was cut off by Jesse who excitedly reached for her.

“Mommy? You’ll be my mommy?!” Jesse began to cry when he hands grabbed hers. “Mommy. Mommy!”

“Yes, Jesse.” Liam smiled down at Jesse as he pulled (your name) close. “Miss (last name) is going to be your mommy.”

“No-“ (your name) gasped when Liam suddenly bent down to kiss her which made Jesse smile brightly.

“We should head home, right?” Liam turned to Jesse who smiled brightly at his dad. “Like a happy family should.”

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