#but it really boils down to. there is love there. there has always been love here. and we both have to live with this
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An Angel All My Own
Simon Riley x reader
Cw: tooth rotting fluff
A thunderous sound wakes you in the middle of the night. You blink in the darkness, trying to get your bearings. Slowly, you flip on the light and look around. Everything seems to be in place. The thunder-like sounds come again, startling you. You quickly shuffle out of bed and down to the front door, flipping on lights as you go.
You get to the door as the person knocks a final time. It was such a ridiculously loud knock that you're sure it probably woke the neighbors. You open the door to reveal a worn down looking Ghost. He's still in his gear and has his go bag slung over one shoulder.
"It's four in the morning, Riley," you tell him pointedly, not having enjoyed being woken up.
"Barracks needed renovations, need somewhere else to stay," he grumbles. You sigh and open the door wider so he can squeeze past you. The barracks are fine and accommodations would have been made if they really did need to renovate them. This was merely a lame excuse to stay at your house. He always came with a bad excuse.
You slip into the kitchen to start heating up some leftovers and putting water on to boil. Simon heads to the living room, toeing his boots off and taking a second to relax. He leans back against the couch. Simon always liked your house, ever since you had the team over for a barbecue. That was over a year ago. He liked that you had warm lights, not the florescent white ones he was used to. He liked that you didn't have overhead lights, only cute little lamps and fairy lights. He liked that your house always smelled like milk and honey. He liked that your couch was soft and covered in blankets, not like the couch in the barracks that had holes the stuffing was falling out of. He liked that he felt safe.
This routine started shortly after the barbeque. Simon would show up on your doorstep after a mission, bruised and battered. You always welcomed him in, no matter how late or how early. You would make him tea and something to eat. Even though he has told you several times that it really isn't necessary. He likes that you're so reliable, that you never push him more than he's comfortable with. He's surprised and grateful that you have yet to turn him away.
You come into the living room, setting down a tray of soup and bread. It smells delicious and Simon sits up, his stomach rumbling. Maybe he was hungrier than he thought. You chuckle lightly at him. "What's your pick of poison tonight? I just dried a fresh batch of mint," you ask. Before Simon met you, he would have said earl gray. It's the only tea he drank for years. But after spending the night so often and you happily chatting about the newest herbal tea blend you made, he slowly came around to trying something new. His favorite, and yours, was peppermint. The warm, sweet menthol helped him relax.
"Mint please," he says, barely above a whisper, "with sugar."
You crack a smile and nod. Your disgruntlement at being woken up seems to have dissipated. "Eat up. Tea will be done in a minute," you beam, retreating back into the kitchen. Simon watches you disappear before picking up the tray. He takes a bite of the soup and can't help but sigh. It's warm and savory and it reminds him of a hug. This was his favorite part of staying at your house. Your cooking was always phenomenal to him, even if you said it wasn't your best. He loved everything you made.
One time, you made cookies and tea cakes for the 141. Price had put them in the common room, telling everyone you had made them treats. Johnny was the only one who managed to snatch a cookie before Simon commandeered the rest. Kyle had pouted for days. Not that Simon cared much, he was too busy scarfing down tea cake.
You come back to the living room, sitting down beside Simon. He was nearly finished with the soup by now. You set his tea down in front of him and curl up into the couch cushions. You knew he didn't like to talk much, certainly not if he was coming over after a mission. No matter what excuse he told you, you knew why he was here. You knew you would wake up to his screams tonight. You knew you would have to coax him into your bed. You knew you would spend the night running your fingers through his hair while he silently cried into chest. You always knew. And yet you didn't care. In fact, you started to look forward to getting a late night knock on your door. You hated that he couldn't let go of his demons, you hated to hear the pain in his screams. But you liked that he found comfort in you. You liked that he felt safe with you.
You gently reach over and start carding your fingers through his blond locks. A shiver runs down his spine before he begins leaning into your touch. He sets his tea down and lays down, his head in your lap. The warm light makes your skin seem to glow and you were being so gentle with him. He swears you might be an angel. No mortal woman could see such a scarred monster and still treat him with such kindness. Not after knowing all the blood he's spilled. But as his eyes begin to get heavy and he listens to the soft lullaby you hum, he knows he's willing to spill more if it means he can spend his nights here with you.
(I might make this into a full fic if it gets enough interest. This was inspired by a post from @bookished
Edit: I just posted chapter one)
#sharkyshitposts#cod x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley fluff#cod fluff
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hellooo could you write something that goes like teacher eddie munson hooked up with student reader and they don’t talk with eachother anymore and the reader is sad because she thinks that he doesn’t care about her anymore and sees chrissy flirting with him and so she thinks that he’s in a relationship with chrissy and she avoids him every now and then but in the end eddie and the reader gets back together (PLEASE WRITE THIS IM DESPERATE I LOVE UR WORK BTW🥰🥰)
You knew the whole thing was wrong from the very beginning, but you couldn’t help it. Him being older and your teacher made him that much more appealing. It was just once, but it lived in your head rent free every second of every day. You can still hear his moans ringing in your ear and as much as you try your best to chase the high, you just couldn’t. You wanted to get over him by getting under someone else, but it was impossible.
Especially when you saw him every week when you sat in his class. Every time you saw him as his podium, images of him bending you over it as he fucked you from behind, telling you just how bad of a girl. You could practically still feel the sting of where he smacked your ass over and over, making it damn near impossible to focus on anything he was saying.
You hated that you had fallen for him so easily. But he didn’t seem to feel the same as he had never called you after you had given him his number. And seeing him flirting with Chrissy Cunningham after class and the way he was staring at her, you knew that whatever you and Professor Munson had was over.
You don’t know why, but you get it in your head that they’re together as you watch them, slowly making your way towards the door. They’re giggling about something and you can’t help but feel your blood boil, wanting to tell them to at least have the decency to do that in his office.
But you don’t. You can’t without revealing that you had a thing with him previously. So you flee the room and head down the hall, grateful that you don’t have anymore classes so you can go home and pout. You know it’s silly, and maybe a little stupid, but you got attached to him and even though he had every right to see whoever he wants, it hurts. Especially since the girl he’s seeing is another student.
So you go home and drown yourself in ice cream and tears as you watch the movie Eddie had put on that night. You just can’t get yourself to let go of him. You don’t know why since he was quick to throw you aside for someone else. And that got you thinking about how many other girls he had done that to.
You’re about to storm down to his office when there’s a knock at your door. You slowly get up to answer it, unsure of who would show up at that hour and you start to think you’re hallucinating when you look through the peephole and see Eddie on the other side.
You unlock the door and rip it open, feeling your heart suddenly melt as he puts on that smile that always makes your knees weak. But it quickly falters once he takes in your tear stained cheeks.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, his voice soft, and you hate how easy it is for you to forgive him. You feel so pathetic, hating how easy it is for him to play you.
“Nothing,” you turn your head away from him, crossing your arms over your chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk,” he replies, reaching out to take your hand, but you step away out of his reach.
“About what? You really shouldn’t be here,” you tell him. “Chrissy wouldn’t like it.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at your words. What does Chrissy have to do with any of this? He had seen you watch the two of them after class, but it had been nothing but a student talking to a teacher. He doesn’t even see her like that anyway as he only has eyes for you.
Just when you think the whole thing can’t get any worse, Eddie laughs. He laughs. And the sound echoes in your brain, making you somehow feel even more embarrassed.
“What are you talking about?” He asks, the laughter dying down into a light chuckle. “Chrissy and I aren’t together. I-I came over here to see you.”
“Really? And for what reason would that be for exactly?” You ask and Eddie laughs again. He hates that your mad at him and is trying his best to lighten the mood.
“To see you,” he says as if it should be obvious and it is. “I wanted to tell you how good of a time I had the other night.” He’s been thinking about it ever since and he knows he should have said something earlier, but he had assignments to grade and time just got away from him. But he’s here now and really hopes that you’ll give him a second chance.
“The other night, as in over two weeks ago? You couldn’t have just texted me that?”
“I got a new phone and a lot of the numbers from my old one didn’t transfer over.” He holds up the phone he had in his jacket pocket and you notice that it’s completely different from the one you had put your phone number into.
“Eddie,” you sigh, stepping closer to him. “I’m so sorry. I feel so stupid.” And you do, so much so that you almost want to run. But you can’t as his hands grab onto your waist, pulling you closer.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I would be mad if the roles were reversed. So I don’t blame you at all. And the real reason I came over was to ask you out. Because I like you and don’t want what we have to be a one night stand.”
“I don’t either,” you reply and he pulls you in for a kiss, the two of you smiling into it as you pull him inside, slamming the door behind you as you lead him to the bedroom where you spend the rest of the night until the early morning, whispering “I love you’s” over and over until they didn’t even sound like words anymore.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#professor!eddie munson x student!reader#professor!eddie
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We need angsty Kenan Yildiz storys!!
"Babe are you going to my match later?" Kenan asked
"No I'm sorry I can't make it I have work until 5 then I'm going to the library to finish that group project that's due next week" I explained
"You never come to my matches anymore" Kenan whined
"I know and I'm sorry but after this project is done I should be able to come to a few more as long as they are after my shift" I said
"I just miss having you there" he said clearly upset with me
~~~~~~~~~~
"Kenan can you swing by the store on your way home we need a few things and I won't have time between classes and work to go" I said
"Are you sure you don't have time I'm really busy today" he said
"I mean I don't really have time" I said
"I'll find a way to repay you if you can find a way to make it to the store" he said
"I guess I can I'll have to take all the stuff to work though" I said
"That works see you later love" he said running out the door
~~~~~~~~~~
"What is it babe I've got training" Kenan said through the phone when he finally picked up
"Can you drive me to campus after you finish training my car won't start and I've already missed one class but I can't miss this afternoon as I have an exam" I said still stressed about the situation
"Can't you call an Uber or get the bus?" He asked
"The buses don't run from here you know that or I wouldn't have a car and an Uber is a lot of money we live quite far from campus" I said
"I'll send you the money whatever it is but I've got to go" he said hanging up
~~~~~~~~~~
The tension between me and Kenan has been building up for weeks if not months. He's had a long and hard summer with losing in the euros with turkey and then pre season at Juventus and I've been as busy as ever. I wasn't able to go to much of the euros in fact I was only there for two days to watch one game as that's all I could afford in terms of the cost of going and losing out on money by not working. My parents are not well off at all so I have to pay every cent towards my education and my life in general so I have to work hard to survive. I'm lucky that I love with Kenan now but still I help him pay the bills as I refuse to live there for free as that wasn't how I was raised.
I'll admit that I'm not home much but that's because when I'm not in classes I'm either studying in the library or working as that's the only way I'm going to get anywhere in life. My work ethic has been instilled in me since I was a child and I pride myself on how hard I work even if it means I'm not home much. This is Kenan's biggest problem with me as he wants me to be home when he gets home and to come to his matches but I can't and he knows why but still sometimes he gets mad at me. Kenan's schedule isn't anywhere near as packed as mine but still I find myself doing a lot for him which is my biggest grievance with him. It just feels like he's never willing to help me out even in the slightest it just seems to always inconvenience him in some way. That bugs me as I don't ask for much but sometimes I just need some support and he never seems to offer it.
Today has been a particularly stressful day I left before the sun had fully risen and came back after it had gone down. I've had exams most of the day and then a closing shift at the store I work at so it's been a long day. My long day meant I missed Kenan's champions league game which he really wanted me to go to but I did tell him I wouldn't be able to make it. He was supposed to pick up a package before his game and take my car to get fixed but when I get back my car was still in the driveway and there was no package either instead Kenan was just laying on the sofa on his phone.
"Where have you been?" Kenan asked
"At school and at work like I said I would be why is my car still in the drive and where is that package?" I asked
"I got busy so I didn't have time before the match" he said
"Damn it Kenan can't you do anything to help me out" I yelled finally letting the tension boil over
"Well your never here so what am I even doing helping you if never get to see you the boys keep asking me if we've broken up as you are never around" he yelled back
"Look I'm sorry I can't be there every match but my education is important to me and to be able to continue with that I have to work you know my parents can't help me so I'm on my own I'm trying my best and if that's not good enough for you then maybe I'm not good enough for you" I said
"Well maybe you aren't good enough" he snapped
"You have to be kidding me Kenan you'd be a mess without me even with everything I have going on I still do so much for you while you'd barely help hold me up if I was falling" I said
"Then maybe we aren't right for each other I don't need a girlfriend who needs me to hold her hand through everything" he said
"Fine then I'll go" I said
I didn't know where I was going but I knew I needed to go so I grabbed my keys and slammed the door on my way out. It was dark and I couldn't see much of what was around me but I know the area well enough to roughly where I'm going. I just kept walking taking lefts and rights where I felt like it which is when I noticed someone walking behind me which isn't abnormal but my instinct told me that something wasn't right. To be sure I took a few quick turns only to see the guy still behind me but that could just be a coincidence so then I sped up hoping that would help me lose him but he sped up too.
That's when I started jogging but that didn't help either which is when the panic sets in and I don't know what to do. The first thing that comes to my mind is to call Kenan but after our argument I don't know if he'll care enough to answer or come help me. I thought about my other options but none of them were going to help me or get to me in time so I had to swallow my pride call Kenan.
Please pick up. Pick up. Come on Kenan for once please just help me.
"What y/n" he answered
"I'm being followed I've tried to lose the guy but he's still following me now I'm running but he's running after me please Kenan help me" I said panicking
"Where are you?" He asked
"I'll send you my location" I said
"I'll be there as soon as I can just keep going" he said
I did exactly as he told me and kept running until I saw a car speeding in my direction which I knew instantly was Kenan. He must've seen me as he stopped the car just in front of me and hopped out. I ran straight towards him and he stopped me by pulling me into a hug and holding me tightly to his chest while I caught my breath. He yelled at the guy who was following me but I didn't hear a word he said I was still panicking and trying to calm down.
"It's ok you're ok I'm here now" he said
"Thank you for saving me I was so scared" I said
"I would never leave you to be hurt by anyone else and I'm sorry for our fight earlier you're right I know you work hard and I could do more to help you" he apologised
"I'm sorry for what I said too I know I should support you more than I do but even when I'm not at matches I'm thinking about you and the team" I said
"I have an idea that might make things better and I know you'll try and fight me on it but I think it will make both of our lives so much better" he said
"What is it?" I asked
"You quit your job and I'll pay for your tuition and you don't have to give me anything towards the bills that way you can focus on school entirely and you'll have more time to come to some of my games" he suggested
"Actually if you are really serious and you wouldn't mind then I'm happy to go along with that plan" I said
"Then it's sorted and I'm sorry I wish things didn't have to get to this point for us to come up with a solution but I'm happy you're ok" he said
He kissed me then we got in the car and went back home where Kenan helped me write my resignation email for my job and he got me a ticket for their next home game. Weirdly I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders straight away knowing I'd get to see Kenan more and I wouldn't have to stretch myself so thin that I could break at any point.
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i loved and hated dragon age: the veilguard???
apologies for the extended rant i'm about to go on.
i loved being back in thedas after 10 years, and i loved that final scene with solas. the emotional beats hit just right in that moment.
i loved to absolutely annihilate groups of enemies with arcane bomb popping off every five seconds.
i loved almost all of my companions' arcs. they had so many moments of genuine pathos.
yet all these barely made up for my growing frustration throughout the game at the dialogue and dialogue system, the repetitive quest design, and narrative focus.
this game shares pretty much all the features that i hated when i first played mass effect 3 all those years ago. from the opening of the game skipping everything except the most minimal story set up in favor of bombastic cinematics to the extensive use of auto dialogue taking away the feeling that i had control of my player character.
bioware has apparently gotten into the bad habit of thinking the set up at the beginning of a story is unimportant. i hated starting off with a bang in mass effect 3. i hated it in inquisition. and i hate it now in veilguard. to me it feels like narrative malpractice to forgo the most vital part of the story. only getting a slickly animated cutscene to set the scene in the story instead of any actual attempt to know rook and their relationships with varric, harding, and the world at large really put me off.
the large amounts of auto dialogue only exacerbated my frustration. mass effect 1 (and 2 to a slightly lesser extent) made the dialogue wheel and voiced protagonist feel like an actual evolution of their previous dialogue systems in kotor and jade empire (and origins even though that came out after). i felt like i had actual input. conversations flowed like rpg conversations had always flowed. but in veilguard conversations feel way too passive, only needing my input when the game wanted me to add a small dash of emotional flavor to the conversation or the ever present binary choice for major story moments.
that's not to say bioware didn't write in a lot of reactivity. there's an absurd amount of unique dialogue depending on lineage and faction choices, but i, as the player character, never felt like i was in the drivers seat for any of it.
it made my rook feel completely disconnected from the story they were ostensibly the protagonist of, like they manifested into existence mere seconds before showing up to the bar in minrathous.
and the quests, individually well paced, all mainly followed the same formula of walk down a path, grab loot from side paths, fight some enemies, and listen to your companions talk all the while. part of why i like rpgs is the feeling that i'm inhabiting a world that revolves around more than combat and puzzles for loot. even if that's mostly what video game rpgs boil down to at the end of the day, it's the illusion of that which sells me on the game world. when all your quests involve that same formula, it flattens the game world to nothing but a combat arena. which, to be fair, i felt was a problem all the way back in mass effect 2, as well.
i also didn't like how all the lore reveals flatten nearly all the setting's mysteries down to solas and the evanuris. they were really neat in isolation, but taken together they kind of hollowed out the world.
ok, so i'm tiring even myself out by now, so i'll just mention in passing the relentless and unnecessary expository dialogue, as if the writing team didn't trust the cinematics team to get across literally any information (i'm looking at you bellara on the approach to d'meta's crossing).
this rant gives off the impression that i didn't really enjoy veilguard, but i did. it's just that the things it does well are what you expect from bioware, and the things i find issue with have become a bit of an unfortunate pattern from the studio. the game was so good, but it could have been so much better.
#dragon age#dragon age thoughts#dragon age spoilers#veilguard spoilers#rant time#i had too many feelings and i had to write them down#maybe i'll turn this into a long form piece some day#tl;dr
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I think self shippers are allowed to have complicated-ass relationships with their F/Os, like yeah we love the lovey-dovey sweet flustering stuff, but also some of us go nuts for a good case of
‘we want to and probably have practically strangled each other but also you’re my soulmate and fate has intrinsically tied us together and I would protect you and fight for you in any given universe but also you’re an actual dumbass and I will tell you so and if we ever go down it’s going to be by the others hand’
Or other related variations, I think it’s great to go hogwild and not all F/O relationships stop at Romantic or Platonic or Familial, the dynamics are endless and can be so fun to play with and navigate
#maybe I’m just really obsessed with the yearning/slow burn/self-fulfilling tragedy/mutual bond for better or for worse#but it really boils down to. there is love there. there has always been love here. and we both have to live with this#also the dynamics you can up with are like. playing 52 card pickup with fanfic tags#it’s FUN and works with most genres of ship situations. angst tragedy comedy romcom enemies to lovers lovers to exs to enemies#it’s also fantastic for aus but also tends to happen with fos you’ve had for a while or that are on the edge of definable#ALSO fos that deal with like the multiverse/multiple timelines !!#cats chatterbox#52 tag pickup seems like a fun self ship ask game but I dunno how it’d work but if someone wants to do that go for it! could be fun ehehehe#self ship#self shipping community#self ship community#self ship stuff#is this anything. do y’all hear me
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🙂↕️🙂↕️okay okay okay so so far within the og divisions we have:
❤️: they strive for a world where words solve conflict. they pointedly did not use mics to express this. at the end of the track, they’re dynamic as brothers has shifted to a more equal dynamic, where ichiro doesn’t feel so compelled to raise them
💙: they strive for a world without violence and used their mics to resolve the conflict. at the end of the track, they reject their status quo and aim to find a new one to change the world without the use of violence
💛: wanted to be real with each other and used their mics to get that across. at the end of the track tho, they say that truth doesn’t really matter anyway and stay true to the selves they formed their bond with
🩶: a battle of wills using the mics. jakurai’s love for yotsutsuji manifested in the form of sacrificing himself and dohifu trying to stop him using their love for their bond as mtr. at the end of the track it’s that love that’s saved jakurai, healed hifumi and elevated doppo’s status at work
and things have changed for all they’ve stayed the same so i’m genuinely curious where nagosaka fits in this lol
#vee queued to fill the void#as i’m typing this i haven’t really processed the scope of mtr’s story lmao#like it may be bc i’m still a matenhoe forever and always but holy shit their love literally changed their lives#and seeing those threads come to a head like that literally made me want to projectile vomit LOL CAN NEVER FEEL NORMAL ABOUT AN MTR DT EVER#i want to draw!!!!!! the scene where sensei as calm and as at peace as he’s ever been!!!!!!!!#tell dohifu they may think him using the true hypnosis mic to save yotsutsuji is stupidity but to him!!!!!!#it’s literally the most important thing!!!!!!!! god!!!!!!!!! it’s the utter peace in his voice that literally kills me listening it!!!!!#doppo: with all due respect this boils down to your ego#sensei: my ego? well that certainly may be the case. it is i who will be saved by doing this#me: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHHHGG#*sniffs* god hypmic has been insane for these tracks on god pls tell me i’m not the only one who sees how insane hypmic rn#and like??????????? wtf can dh and bat deal with??????? i wish i was big brained to see where nagosaka has been going towards lol#dh has to be setting the tone tho since lowkey???? tdd are paralleling with their 1st drb match ups lol bbmtc want basically the same thing#and fpmtr reaffirmed their bonds and identities in theirs#and like ‘the trio’ makes me think rosasa are finally going to punch rei in the face for ditching them lol#but it might be time for dh to enter in the plot frfr trying to get rei from doing stuff on his own#so does bat parallel that??? trying to stop kuukou from doing things on his own???? something else?????#bc hitoya is deadass the only who has interacted with the plot in any way lmao (kuukou too as a victim of the true hypnosis mic)#this is me processing things out loud gomen thanks for attending the ted tag vomit lmao
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being a crowley kinnie is harder than being a u.s. marine
#“it's a relationship that's up to interpretation” There Better Be Mad NDAs In Place Right Now#good omens 2#anthony j crowley#frustrated dyke ranting in the tags do not eat#(dont get it twisted i do not blame any of the cast/crew playing into the 'bromance' narrative)#(bc i get theyre under contract and things are sticky rn)#(just so fucking sick of queer love and relationships being boiled down to “up to interpretation” and erased)#not saying good omens is intentionally doing that it's more my outrage towards articles and season 2 promo that baits fans#while simultaneously belittling and gaslighting (bold word ik) said fans#and honestly? would just feel really nice to shove it in the face of everyone who insulted good omens fans for liking a ship#that's selfish and mean i know but it would be satisfying to have like an ofmd moment where i can point and say “look! i'm not delusional!”#especially bc neil has stated multiple times that it *is* a love story. even if they're not making out on screen or whatever#and i hate that queer representation has to always be an argument like this#wow i did not mean to go off for this long in the tags i've really been holding that in for a while
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ougugugughghhh i get,,, so embarrassed when i try to be Earnest lol especially w/in the context of like fanart/fic like i LOVE when other people do it i LOVE reading earnest and vulnerable deep fics and seeing intense fanart etc etc etc. but then i do it i feel like i am Going To Be Killed LJFDKSLF SDJFLS
#yknow like??? if i do ANYTHING other than my funny ha ha sillies <-which i love btw. my fave thing to do ever#but if i try something Different i feel like im CRINGE for trying bc im not. good at it??#or like im Trying Too Hard?? I GET SO EMBARRASSED#anyway i got jumpscared by a jami/azu i found from last year#and i mean /i/ like it but. i feel like i would die if i posted it#im p sure ididnt post that one i just sent it to my friend on discord#and then even that still made me Feel Embarrassed lol#SORRY GOD idk why im airing out so much internal feelings today lol#can i really blame it on the caffine. can i. god i really need to find a new therapist lol i cancelled the old one but#havent found a replacement yet jklfjsdl oopsie. but like how do u talk to a therapist about this shit anyway lol#i dont. WANT to tell them about tumblr thats EMBARRASSING#sorry this all boils down to im very insecure and always have been l o l#like it's FINE ill be FINE im just oughhghghghgh yknow?#i guess im better than i used to be bc. i post way more than i used to re:drawing and writing lol but#i do have fits of panic where im like#🧍♂️am i delusional. perhaps my mutuals/followers r just politely humoring me#and i am simply making A FOOL of myself#maybe!!!!!!!!!!! i dont know#not that i think anyones out to get me or anything i just hfhhhshhdhsghf#i lost track of what i was talking about#anyway shoutout to people who r nice sorry i have a hard time absorbing it lol thats a ME problem not anyone else
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Only the veteran survivors of the Battle Beneath the Crescent are aware of how much Geshu Lin's death affected Jiyan. Even fewer actually the truest extent of this and why.
#hc; jiyan#//he himself is rather frustrated at his own lingering attachment to the man. Bc really; he SHOULDN'T be#//It wasn't as though he and the man ever really saw eye-to-eye in life; their core ideals the furthest thing from each other#//It wasn't as though the man's stubbornness & ruthless strategies didn't make his blood BOIL more often than not; as solider & medic#//It wasn't as though the man would have EVER looked at him the same way Jiyan did to him#//Be it due to the power imbalance b/w General & combat medic or the near decade & a half yrs between them; or the fact that GL's eyes were#only ever on the battlefield ahead; fighting for a future he & everyone else around him damn well knew he would never live to see#//Jiyan knew it was hopeless the moment he'd realized how he felt; the foolish little bloom of first love amid resentment & frustration#//& yet even three years later; Jiyan can't help but CLING to those phantoms of him; those of the Retroact Rain & within his own memories#//He yet clings to the way the man had always seemed to shine; like the full moon on a cloudy night. Of the first sight he ever had of him#when he'd been assigned to the man's service; the cold determination glinting in his eyes; sharp as a blade and just as merciless#//He clings to the Respect he had for him; for his quick choices in battle; seemingly unwavering resolve; the power he possessed to protect#& destroy with chilling ease–things Jiyan himself wished he could have. He desperately strove to be exactly like him; sans the way he would#endanger his own men for the sake o victory. That; Jiyan would never forgive & never let the man forget it. & was most definitely annoyed#to hell & back when he'd get brushed or even laughed off times he dared step out of line & call it out; to the horror of other soldiers#//It felt as if GL acknowledged & willingly accepted his vitriol with open arms. Was it a challenge or self-punishment? Jiyan never knew#//All he knew is it always made even more upset; and prompted more clashes between the two on their ideals. A selfish part of him liked to#believe these arguments helped distract GL from the horrors of war; a twisted solace amid it all. It did.does help ease the sting a bit#//At first; he confided in folks like Ningwei or trusted older soldiers about those sightings; how shaken they left him; how guilty he felt#in wanting to see MORE of them; so tempted to try and talk to them; rather than fight or ignore them like he'd supposed to#//But w their increasing concern & gentle attempts to get him to step back or even suggest stepping down as General; he's clammed up tight#//Now no one but him & the phantoms know how frequent & intense the sighting get; as far as anyone knows; he hasn't seen any of GL in 2yrs#//Meanwhile; Jiyan is fightin for his life & sanity; feeling his heart break over & over again each time he bears the brunt of harsh words#over his intentions & strategies; his soft heart unwilling to sacrifice his men for victory. Of just SEEING him & that steely gaze again#//At times; Jiyans wonders what would happen if he gave into selfishness & tried to act on his longing upon these phantoms#//Would they disappear? Reject him? Accept him? Would he stop being so haunted by him with the closure it could bring?#//But he's terrified of any and every possibility. And most of all; he's disgusted in himself for daring to sully the memory of his General#with such thoughts and desires. It's a disservice & insult to him; wanting to use what's left of his presence in this world like that#//& yet Jiyan can't bring himself to let go of it. If this is all he has of him now; how can he bear to let him go? To let him be FORGOTTEN#//He really can't. No matter how much it hurts him to do so; in every sense of the word
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24 Hours
request: a blurb where he actually gets mad at JJ when she confesses to love him but doesn't really say anything at the moment. But then when he introduces reader to the team as his girlfriend, JJ is being kinda rude to her. She tries to tell him she doesn't like her, that she's not good for him. And spencer gets mad and protective👀 maybe he even throws a "i'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not".
a/n: my return piece !!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)
Word Count: 2.2k
Spencer sees red when he walks out of the jewelry store after shooting the unsub.
JJ is the first girl he has ever asked out, someone he pined over for years after her subtle rejection at the Redskins game. He understood her reasoning. It would have been impractical for them to add relationship highs and lows to everything the BAU has been through over fourteen years, and that's if they stayed together. If they hadn't, things would have been even more complicated.
Also she just generally didn't like him that way. Or so he thought.
It didn't mean she wasn't his ideal for many years. His first love, who had so many traits he didn't have that he desperately wanted.
His confirmation he would be unlucky in love came after that with Maeve, who he once again thought could be the one for him. And then he realized that maybe the person for him had been taken away from him.
Then he met Y/n, and it all seemed worth it. All those terrible nights of crying and feeling like he would forever be alone, all the times he was the only single one on the team, knowing everyone was going home to someone they loved unconditionally and relied on for support.
She's the sun and the moon, and he fell in love so fast he couldn't stop it. Luckily, she did too.
Until JJ fucked it up.
The truth she had to tell to get them out alive dropped an atomic bomb on his newly formed life plans.
Spencer doesn't speak to her that night as they finish their recounts and reports. She leaves it out, though, he discovers, opting to write the secret about her miscarriage instead of confessing her love for her best friend and the godfather of her kids.
It messes with his head the whole way home. He can't sleep on the jet, even if he wanted to as he tried to work out what he was feeling.
All JJ does is send him pleading looks, and all he does is get angry because how dare she do this now? After she had fifteen years of them working together, all those chances to tell him how she felt.
He would have married and had a family with her, the family he always wanted. It's always stayed in the back of his head for so long, and just as he sees someone else in that role in his dreams, she drudges all of it back up.
It's such a long flight, and he taps his foot the whole way while staring out the window, not even able to read.
He goes to Y/n's. He's not sure what he's going to say, how much of it he's going to tell her, but he needs to see her to cool off the fury boiling out of him.
"Hey, handsome." She calls out when he walks in the door as cheerful as ever.
He feels a pit of guilt sink into his stomach because he can't tell her without ruining everything they delicately have put together. Maybe it's wrong to lie by omission, but his brain keeps coming back to fault. And it's JJ's fault. She's the one who's jeopardizing everything.
"Hi, gorgeous." He replies, walking into the living room to find her laying on the couch, book in her hands and her head on the armrest. He's reminded how accurate the petname he calls her by is when he's taken off guard by her breathless beauty. "How are you liking it?" He asks.
"It's good." She answers, putting the book down. "But that's because it's very you."
She gets up, meeting him behind the couch to cup his jaw, stroking over his skin and staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him properly.
He relaxes into it, the tension in his shoulders easing and his brain slowing down for a moment. It's heavenly, as always, and it's what being loved is meant to feel like.
"How was your case?" She asks when she pulls back, still not daring to move too far away from him.
He tenses instantly at that, totally readable behavior, but he's got to perfect excuse to play it off. "It was rough." He holds out his bandaged hand that he's been avoiding showing her. "I got hurt."
"Shit." She straightens up, noticing how big it looked. "What happened?"
"Cut it on glass." He answers, not going as far as to say where he was when it occurred. "I'm fine, though. Promise."
She nods, reassured. "We've got to be up in, like, six hours, you know?" She reminds him of the time.
With the amount of coffee and adrenaline in his system, he barely registered it was already past 2 in the morning. Usually, they would have stayed in LA for the night, but being home in time for Rossi's wedding trumped a good night of sleep for everyone.
"Can I sleep here?" He wonders, awkwardly looking down at his feet.
"Duh. I'm not going to kick you out and make you come pick me up so we can go tomorrow morning." She jokes. "Picked up your suit, too. You're going to look very handsome."
Spencer grins because she seriously can't get more perfect. She still feels so unattainable, but he'd do anything to make sure he doesn't lose her.
He really should tell her, but he can't. Not right now.
Y/n snaps him out of it. "Bedtime now?"
"Please." He agrees gratefully, keeping his arms wrapped around her while they walk to her bedroom.
He keeps her close while they go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Spencer quickly sheds his suit and both of them brush their teeth.
His head is on the pillow for only a few seconds before he's asleep, and she follows soon after.
The alarm going off isn't as much of a problem when Spencer is lying in bed next to her, arm wrapped around her waist. It's one of the things she misses a lot when he's away.
"Hi, beautiful," Spencer whispers, a husky voice as always. He's glad he fell asleep quickly, not having wanted to sit up thinking about the stupid things JJ has said. He just couldn't understand why it was coming up now. Sleep provided absolutely no clarity.
She grins at him. "Hi."
"Are you ready for today?" He asks softly.
"A little nervous," Y/n admits. The BAU is his family after all. His mom is there but the BAU has been where he's spent most of his life for the last 15 years.
"They'll love you." Because I love you. Spencer assures her.
She smiles softly, feeling a little better. "Let's get up then."
Spencer agrees, not before planting a few kisses on her lips and hugging her tightly.
They get ready side by side, feeling a great sense of domesticity. She's never gotten close to someone as quickly as she has with Spencer. Somehow, it's not scary that it's happened this way.
"Wow, you're very gorgeous," Spencer tells her as she touches up the final strand of her hair, adding enough hairspray that it won't fall out. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, admiring her. "Wow."
"Thank you." Y/n spins around to look at him in his deep maroon suit. It matches her dress color which she agrees looks very nice on her. "And you're very handsome."
"Ready? The car is coming soon." He says.
She nods, fixing her bracelet. "Let's do it."
There are still some nerves as the car takes them to the venue. Spencer does a good job of assuring her it'll be okay, his hand like a magnet to her thigh. He seems slightly off like there's something out of place, but she shrugs it off. She hopes he's being cute and afraid his friends still say something embarrassing.
The venue and interior are exquisite as they make their way in. She takes a deep breath before they come across the man of the day, welcoming everyone at the entrance. She has no doubt that the value of the artwork in this room totals her apartment and everything in it.
"Spencer." Rossi, supposably, greets him in a tight hug.
"This is my girlfriend, Y/n." Spencer introduces them.
As she expects, and as she was warned about by Spencer, Rossi pulls her in for a hug, immediately calming her nerves with his warm greeting. "It's so nice to meet you. This one won't stop talking about you." Rossi jokes, nodding at an increasingly reddening Spencer.
"It's nice to meet you too." She smiles. "Thank you for inviting me."
Rossi nods. "Of course, it's a pleasure."
And then the rest of the introductions begin. Everyone's so kind, like she expected. She's seen photos and heard stories but everyone seems to have more personality than he conveyed. She's quickly fast friends with Penelope and Tara who do their absolute best to make sure Y/n's feeling comfortable.
It's how she ends up being dragged onto the dance floor after the ceremony. Once the alcohol starts flowing, there's no more anxiousness left and some extroverted spirit has been brought out.
Spencer's not one to dance, but he's one to admire. Only Y/n, though. She looks angelic, despite the old-style dance moves.
He's so wrapped up in watching her that he doesn't register JJ's heels on the ground as she approaches him. It's only when she sits next to him that his head turns around to face her.
He waits for her to speak first. Hopefully, provide some explanation.
"Spencer." She says his name softly, almost like how he used to imagine she'd say it if they were together. Much to his surprise, she doesn't go into any detail about the bomb she'd dropped less than 24 hours ago. "I'm worried about you."
He doesn't hide his scoff. "Worried about me?" He repeats.
She goes for another tactic, trying not to get him mad. "You don't think you're rushing into this?"
"Rushing into what, Jennifer?" He spits back, snapping to anger. Using her first name drives the point home, almost unnecessarily when he sounds so angered.
"You know what I mean." She continues. "You've only been talking about her for a few weeks and now she's here."
He can't fathom that she'd suggest he's rushing into a relationship. He's been careful and deliberate, but Y/n's safe, and she's proved it time and time again.
"She's been part of my life for 6 months." Spencer fact-checks her. "And you said I seemed happier since I met her."
JJ stalls, regrouping before trying another angle. "She's just not what I expected. Is she really the type you should be with?"
"What does that mean?" Spencer states, more furious than ever. There's a chance he will fully snap at her and he wouldn't be sorry.
"I feel like you should be with someone extroverted." She suggests. "You know, someone to get you out of your shell."
Spencer needs a deep breath. "You're not being a good friend right now." He tells her much more calmly. There's not one thing he doesn't love about Y/n, whether she's more on the extroverted or introverted side."I'm going to marry her, whether you like it or not." It's not even what he expected to come out of his mouth.
"Spence-" JJ tries again to reason with him.
"No, don't you dare," Spencer says firmly. "You flew back and forth from New Orleans so many times to see Will, without telling us once and we were all accepting of your relationship. If you don't like my relationship, I don't care. But it's not too soon for me to know. We can talk about what you told me later, but for now, I'm going to dance with my girlfriend." Without another word, he gets up and walks off, leaving her a little gobsmacked.
Y/n frowns at him as he approaches the dance floor. "Are you okay?" She checks.
"More than okay," Spencer tells her with a soft smile.
"Dance with me then." She says, mirroring her smile and holding out her hand.
"I'd love to." He takes her hand just as a slow song comes on for them to sway together.
JJ gets ignored by him for the rest of the night, something unnoticed by Y/n but purposeful by Spencer. But it's fun. So much fun. And he's sure he wouldn't be having as much fun had Y/n not been there. She truly makes his day.
They're in the car later that night, parked near her apartment, ice cream eaten on the trip home. "I'm in love with you," Spencer admits when her laughter falls off after he tells a joke.
It's not a word they've said before.
Her expression is of pure shock, but joy quickly creeps in. "I'm in love with you too." She tells him, grinning.
And it's an entirely better confession than the one he heard 24 hours ago.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic
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Please Come Home
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.
Word count: 3.3k
TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults
Your spare key is missing.
Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?
When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.
When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?
You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?
Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.
At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.
You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.
In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?
I think I lost it.
I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?
Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.
I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.
I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you
I love you, too.
A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.
That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.
You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.
It lulls you into a false sense of security.
You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.
With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.
You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.
The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.
Your phone isn’t on the counter.
You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.
Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?
It’s not.
You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.
Still no response from Jason.
You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.
The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.
The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.
And now they’re gone.
Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?
He doesn’t respond right away.
Jay, this isn’t funny.
Still nothing.
Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.
Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.
You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.
You go straight to voicemail.
You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”
His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.
You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.
You chew on your thumbnail.
Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.
He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?
You call Jason again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.
Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.
No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.
Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.
Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.
Empty.
You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.
There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.
You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.
Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.
All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.
You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”
“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”
“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”
“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”
A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.
You scream.
Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.
He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…
Right into a stranger’s chest.
There are two of them?
An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”
You stab him in the stomach.
Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.
“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.
The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”
“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.
“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”
Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.
Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.
The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.
Where is Jason?
You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.
The man’s ugly face explodes.
You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.
More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?
It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.
Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.
Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.
Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.
You know those gloves.
Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.
Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.
You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.
Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.
You wipe it away.
Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.
You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.
Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.
You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.
Oh, God. Your best friend.
You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.
Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.
She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.
Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.
“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.
“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”
“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”
"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.
He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"
"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."
"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."
You nod numbly.
Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet—he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.
He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"
As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.
Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.
They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.
He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"
You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.
"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."
"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.
Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."
You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.
When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"
As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.
True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.
"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.
You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.
"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.
He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.
When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."
"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."
"I could feel that something was wrong."
Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"
"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."
Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.
Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."
Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.
Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.
You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.
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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader
Girl Next Door (Two)
CW: Mutual masturbation again, Simon has incredibly perverted thoughts about you, a stranger jumps into your backyard!!! :)
Previous Chapter, Next Chapter
The Summer air was sticky, spits of sweat clinging to the back of your neck as intricates of hair moulded to your skin. You felt damp, your clothes acting like an uncomfortable Band-Aid that strained against your flesh causing an itching sensation that wouldn’t subside no matter how hard you rubbed or scratched.
It was upsetting, you dearly loved your garden. You took great pride in how pretty it was, the adornment of tulips and dahlias, entwined between rows of carnations and peonies. There was a stark difference between your house and your neighbour, even between the differing shades of grass, his a deeper juniper and yours a dewy pine.
Steady hands gripped the blue watering can, droplets beading at the top before feeding the parched plants. Gloved hands patted down the wet dirt, your eyes squinting under the boiling sun as you hurried under some shade. Thirsty lips found the straw, the sickly sweetness of pink lemonade sliding down your throat as you let out a dramatic sigh.
Your eyes trailed over the fence, the wood structure was tall, yet not tall enough to fully conceal your neighbour’s house, his kitchen on display as you froze, a staggering figure watching out the window at you. You waved awkwardly, holding up your glass of lemonade as Simon turned around, walking away from the glass pane.
Your belly felt hot. Was he watching you that whole time? You glanced down at your sundress, a bright red puffed out with a drastic shade of yellow flowers splattered around the fabric. Did he think you looked weird? Or pretty? What if he thought you were creepy and staring at him first?
You shook your head, chucking your gardening gloves to the side as you strolled inside. The soft strum of music played, your fans working overtime to cool down your house. You had never made much of an effort to speak to your neighbour, yet realised he never made much of an effort to speak to anyone. You had never seen him converse with anyone in the neighbourhood, and there was only a handful of times when another car was pulled into his driveway.
Maybe he was lonely. You despised the way your brain worked, always conjuring up someone’s life story without even a hint of the person. Nevertheless, you found yourself in the kitchen, sifting flour into a sugary mix, moulding chocolate chips into the dough balls before placing them in the oven.
Your kitchen broiled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies, your fingers padding into the tops of them before letting them sit and harden. You would admit, you partook in several hobbies, baking and gardening being two of them. Though you didn’t need to be doing this, a part of you was aching to understand the man who has been living next door to you for over 2 years now.
Shaky hands guided you out the door as you contemplated knocking, pacing back and forth across the porch several times before you anxiously padded against the wood, straightening out your sundress with a plate of cookies in your other. Simon stayed seated for a moment, creeping towards the door almost silently before beady eyes looked through the peephole. The Lieutenant stilled, taking in your pretty figure and the baking in your other hand, the subtle display of your cleavage almost enticing him as he watched you bounce on your feet nervously, awaiting him.
He opened the door, a neutral expression on his face. “Hello!” You squeaked, “I was baking, and I just wanted to bring you some. We haven’t really met before, and I guess I wanted to be a friendly neighbour seeing as you’ve just gotten home from being away.” You rambled on a bit before shutting yourself up, holding the plate out.
Simon held his breath as you spoke, taking in the way your lashes fluttered every time you looked around in a fiddly manner. “Thanks.” His voice was gruff, his accent piercing through the deepness as he showed no sign of emotion in his expression.
“Well... I guess that’s it, enjoy the cookies,” you sighed, handing off the plate as you turned on your heels. Simon let out a deep breath before calling out to you.
“Do you want to come in and I don’t know, watch something? I was just watching the TV, and you went to the trouble of making these. The polite thing to do.”
You nodded, slowly, but let a big smile crack through your face as you quickly huddled inside his home. His house was a lot darker than yours, with neutral colours staining the furniture with minimalistic pieces of clutter. There was a stark difference between the two of you in general. You appeared full of colour and life whereas he was more reserved and mysterious.
You plonked yourself on his couch, grey leather rubbing against the back of your thighs as you adjusted the skirt of your dress. He placed the cookies on the coffee table in front of you both, the cushions sinking as he sat down, his large thighs spread as he turned on the television, his arm automatically slinging across the top of the sofa.
It was awkward. Neither of you spoke as he fiddled with the channels, landing on some old sitcom you had only seen when nothing else was on. Your nimble fingers reached for a cookie as you held your hand over you to make a makeshift plate. Simon’s dark eyes flickered towards you, watching the way your mouth moved, lips curling over the cookie before you sucked any crumbs up.
As time passed, you grew more comfortable, your legs plush against the seat as you rested against the armrest, laying your face on the palm of your hand as you occasionally laughed. Simon felt like a creep, focusing more on you than the TV show he chose. He noted all the small details in your face, every visible crease and line in your features, the way your cheeks puffed up slightly as you laughed and how your iris’ would dart across the screen when a new person appeared.
Greedy carob orbs sucked in the sight of your supple cleavage, the delicate bounce of your breasts as you adjusted yourself occasionally. His cock chubbed at the display of your skin, the hem of your dress riding up over the plushness of your thighs, as his tongue darted out to lick his dry lips.
He rubbed his hand over his mouth as he looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed at the perverted thoughts racking around his skull. He adjusted his pants subtly, letting out a near-silent groan at the thought of you bent over the couch, wanton holes on display as you wept into the leather, his hands cracking down on the fat of your ass as he left a stain of his large hand.
He imagined you on your knees in front of him, doe-eyes staring up at him with unshed tears as you spluttered around his girthy cock, taking him down your tight throat as you dribbled onto your bare breasts. But oh dear, his length practically aches as he imagined the sight of you bouncing on his lap, tight cunt filled with him as he forced you to focus on the dumb show, narrating what was happening as he kissed your sloppy cervix, staining your gummy walls with hot spurts of his cum.
He was almost sad when the show ended, your knees knocking together as you thanked him for inviting you in. He gave you a small smile, eyes creasing slightly as he nodded.
“Thank you for the cookies. If you need anything, let me know.”
You almost giggled in excitement as you rushed inside your own house. It became a routine now; one you didn’t even know he knew about. Desperate fingers clung to the lace of your panties, peeling them down your legs as you ground your sloppy pussy against your pillow, vibrator nestled into your hardened clit as you moaned out into the palm of your hands.
Your hands found your neglected chest, pulling the straps of your nightgown down as you tweaked at the puffy buds, swirling your digits around them as your eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure. Simon’s hand rutted to the frequency of your moans, slick balls aching for release as he waited for the higher-pitched squeal you let out while you orgasmed, yet it never came.
Instead, he was greeted with the sound of a more frightened squeal and frantic rustling. Your eyes were dead shut as you approached your high, opening to take in your blissful figure before they twitched towards the window, the sight of a man climbing over your fence sending chills through every nerve you had as you squealed, rolling onto the floor as you adjusted your nightgown, your panties quickly slipped up your thighs once more.
Distressed hands reached for your phone, calling emergency services about an intruder before you did the most sensible thing you believed to be possible while you waited.
You frantically banged against Simon’s door.
#evilgwrl#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#simon riley#ghost smut#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fluff#simon ghost smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost fluff
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hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD
Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.
Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.
I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.
Some more thoughts:
If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.
If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.
You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.
You can also freeze lick mats
If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.
If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.
Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.
Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.
Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.
Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.
A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.
If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.
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Danielle - All Over Again (M)
Casual sex. Something that has become commonplace for many, maybe a little too common. You have people having body counts well into 100s. But for some, sex is more dear, a sacred act that one does with another that they truly love. A difference in opinion is most certain to happen. For Danielle, she holds the connection made through making love close to her heart, almost to a fault. Even though she’s only been with one person, that person holds their place in her heart and soul. She stares at the wall of the dressing room, her mind filled with replays of them and her.
“Please Daddy~” She pleads and moans as their hands grip her tiny waist as they take her from behind. The way she fills so full with them inside. Her moans fill the room, one hand grips their forearm, the other the sheet. A position she is all too familiar with, under him. Her black lace panties were pulled to the side, she wore his favorite. Black, lace and see through. She knows the effect she has on him no matter what she wears but that set always did the most,”Fuck,” her throat hurts from moaning, they been at it for hours. Condoms ran dry, a new experience for her, taking him raw.
“Fuck Dani,” His voice low as he grunts, she feels him throb inside of her. She knew he wouldn’t pull out, he held her down pushing himself as deep as he could without hurting her, “Would you have my babies Dani?” his whisper drives her crazy, all she could do is nod.
“Danielle?” Hanni taps her shoulder, getting her out of her day dream, “Are you okay?”
Dani looks around realizing she has been rubbing her thighs together, “I’m fine, I just need to go to the bathroom,” Hanni doesn’t seem convinced but nods as Dani rushes to the bathroom, taking a deep breath, locking the bathroom door. Her safety shorts are pulled down, her panties soon follow, “Shit,” She runs her fingers through her folds, drenched within seconds, dripping with her fluids. She only gets this way with him. The replays go through her mind again, her slender fingers slide inside of her, she covers her mouth to hide her whimpers. Opening her phone, she pulls up a video of her and him. He filmed it as he took her hard, her fingers frantically chasing her orgasm. Trying to keep quiet, as a puddle forms on the floor, her legs quiver as she cums collapsing over the sink. She quickly gets herself together and cleans up.
“Dani, are you really okay?” Hanni asks again when Danielle gets back to the room, “You were in there for quite awhile.”
“I’m fine, something just didn’t agree with my stomach,” Dani says, slightly smiling as she sits down.
“If you say so,” Hanni shakes her head and the rest of the day goes on without incident. Even months go on without her thinking about him. Even started talking to a new guy, he just wasn’t him. She tried and tried yet she kept comparing them. She dropped him when he wanted to go further, they barely talked for a few months and yet he wanted that. Luckily for her, the day they were leaving for a few overseas schedules came quick. Unluckily for her, she took a quick glance while they were boarding the plane, and she swears she saw him. The man that plagues her mind,body, and soul. She ignores the nagging feeling, she occupied herself with her members. That lasted just enough to get off the plane.
“I’ll catch up to you guys, I need to rush to the bathroom,” Dani says, taking off in his direction.
“But Dani, the bathroom is the other room,” Minji screams out, watching her run off before sighing, “This girl.”
Danielle’s eyes frantically search through the sea of people, typically she could find him because he is taller than anyone else but the people here are his height so she’s having a harder time. She spots him, rushing over as quickly as she can.
“Y/n!” She yells out, making him look over at her, as she stands there, anger boiling in her blood.
“Elle~” He smiles looking down at her, he can tell she’s angry.
“Don’t call me that,” She stares at him, anger slowly fading as her deep rooted feelings start to take over. His perfect face in her eyes, his fit body that hides under those clothes of his, “Why did you leave?”
“I didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams,” He stares back, “My my my, just as beautiful as I remember.”
“Shut up Y/n,” She looks away trying to hide her face, “You know that you wouldn’t have gotten in the way of them.”
“I would have, I know myself Dani, even if I didn’t mean to, I would have.”
Danielle feels like he’s lying to her, she always had a good feeling for when he wasn’t being truthful. She can’t handle it, it’s not good for her right now. Shaking her head, she turns to leave, running into Minji. Minji’s eyes are filled with hate and disdain as she stares at Y/n.
“Why are you here?” her voice filled with anger, shaky yet firm. She’s holding herself back, “I warned you not to bother her again.”
“I’m not here to bother her Minji, I’m here because I live here, duh.” His smile never leaves his face, sadistic almost.
“What do you mean you told him to not bother me?” Dani asks, curious by what Minji means. Snapping Minji out of her anger, quickly looking over at Dani then back at him, smirking as he backs away.
“Not like that… wait, you don’t know the real reason why he left?” Minji inquires, stopping herself from defending her words. Dani shakes her head, making Minji sigh, “This will be harder to explain then.”
“Girls?” Their manager finds them, “We need to hurry, our rides are waiting and we have a time limit.”
“Manager-nim, tell her the reason,” Minji pushes the explanation off to another.
“The reason for what?’
“Y/n.”
“Oh fuck no,” The manager starts pushing them to the van, “We aren’t going to talk about him right now.”
Danielle is lost right now, what do they know? Her mind thinks and thinks never coming close to a possible outcome. She stares into space even after they arrive at the hotel, the night overtaking the sky, the moon swallowing the sun’s light. She sneaks out of the hotel, the rest of the members are asleep, surprising her. Being back in Australia should’ve been more exciting for at least Hanni. She knows he’s in the city. It’s Friday, at midnight. She knows exactly where he will be. Finding a taxi was luck on her side, at first the driver was reluctant to drive where she wanted but after a hefty payment upfront he was more than happy to after they settled with a drop off a block away. The smell of burning rubber filled her senses along with the sound of music and engines. Taking a deep breath relishing in the smell she grew accustomed with over the years.
“Well well well, look at what the cat dragged in,” A voice comes over the music with a megaphone, The person jumps down from their seat, “The little princess is back. First the king, now you.”
“Shut up Nath, where is Y/n?” She asks, looking around, new faces, new cars, nothing really of note.
“You hurt me so Danielle, you know where he is, you always do,” He chuckles going back to watching the drifting, the eyes she felt on her was she walked through the crowd was nothing new to her, she looks at some of the cars, enjoying the vibe of the car scene. She finally finds him once again, at the pool table, surrounded by the cars. One of them being his, it looks like just how she remembers it, the pristine white wheels going perfect with the black paint.
“I see you still have the GTR Y/n,” She says, getting the people's attention. A few she recognizes.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you were just here to enjoy the cars, Elle,” He turns to look at her, her hoop earrings, her crop top, tight jeans, “Brings back memories,” he says, checking her out.
“Eyes up here dipshit,” She snaps her fingers, “We need to talk Y/n. A serious talk.”
He turns back to the pool table, taking his shot ,”What is there to talk about?”
She steps in front of him and the table, looking up at him, ignoring the flashes of what happens when she typically does this, “Everything.”
He sighs, handing his pool cue to someone, “Get in,” he says as she’s already at the passenger door. The two get in, she feels the start of the RB26 course through her body.
“I see the seat hasn’t moved,” She quips, smirking to herself.
“No one was allowed in my car other than you and still is that way,” he drives slowly through the crowd of people moving to the side, making way for the GTR. Getting to the street, he steps on it, throwing their heads back. Heading to the highway, he slows down, taking in the lights illuminating the night skies. The ride remains silent, the sound of RB echoes through the night. Her hand instinctively falls to the shift, holding his. The two say nothing as they relish the silence, none of them want to ruin the atmosphere. The scenery changes as they head to a spot, a spot they frequently went to. Overlooking the city, they are brightened by the headlights.
“Why did you leave Y/n?” Dani asks again, “Not the bullshit reason, or the reason you think will hurt me last, the real reason.”
“Your company forced me to,” He stared at the city, the concrete jungle, “They said I was too distracting and they knew for some reason that we were sexually active. Couldn’t take the risk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Y/n? I would’ve stopped them,” She makes him look at her.
“I didn’t want you to lose everything you worked so hard for,” he smiles slightly, grabbing her hand, squeezing it.
“I would’ve given up my dream if it might I would lose you,” Tears fell from her eyes, he wiped her tears, as he always did, “Why did Minji say that to you at the airport?”
“No clue, my guess is that the company came up with something different,” he keeps holding her hand.
It seems like she got her answers, but now she has more questions. She holds his hand, the familiar touch that she longed for. Staring out at the city, they stayed out there catching up, falling in love again, till the sun started raising.
“I should probably take you back to the hotel,” He says, getting his keys out of his pocket, sitting up from the grass.
She grabs his arm tightly, “I don’t want to go back,” She pulls him back to the grass, “I want to spend more time with you.”
“But Dani, you have a concert today. One of which I have tickets to, I can pick you up after the concert if you want me to.”
She sits up quickly, getting on top of him, “You promise?” her eyes shining brightly with a smile as bright as the rising sun.
“Promise,” he offers her his pinky, which she takes quickly, giggling. They finally manage to get to their feet. Heading to the car, Danielle’s phone rings. She lets out a sigh as she gets into the car with him.
“Hello,” She says, already knowing what they are going to say.
“Where are you?” It’s her manager, a good manager though a bit too much at times.
“I’m out, I’m on my way back right now though,” She smiles looking over at him driving.
“You better not be with who I think you are with,” The tone of her manager’s voice noticeably changes, always when Y/n is the topic.
“So what? I’ll be meeting you guys at the arena instead, It will be faster,” Dani hangs up, not wanting to hear more.
“So to the arena?” he takes a glance over at her leaning back in the seat. The frustrated look on her face tells him everything he needs to know.
“Please baby,” he hasn’t heard her call him that in what feels like decades, eons even. He switches lanes, speeding up. Her hand falls back into place with his as they weave through traffic. The ride once again was silent,everything has been said. Merely enjoying the time that they had together is what’s left.
New Jeans arrive at the arena, waiting outside their entrance for Dani. The rest are waiting patiently while Minji paces. Worry evident on her face, their company never liked Y/n and after what she heard from them, she didn’t either. Judging by Danielle’s reaction to everything that transpired, even though it was rather quickly. She didn’t get 100% truths, her pacing didn’t stop when a loud car came screeching to a stop in front of them.
“Uh oh, I know that car,” Hanni says, taking a look, “This isn’t going to be good,” She quickly takes the other two inside. Dani hops out of the passenger side, a bright smile and all.
“Where the fuck were you,” Minji storms over, anger trumping her worry, examining her outfit causes her to get more angry, “And what the fuck are you wearing?”
“I was with Y/n, learning the truth,” Dani states simply walking past, ignoring the rest of Minji’s questions. Avoiding the manager and focusing on the concert was her only priority. The concert simply couldn’t start fast enough, luckily her accomplice Hanni helped her find a hiding spot. She spent her time talking to Y/n, selfies and all. He made her feel something, like he always did. Her day went faster and faster, till it was time for the concert. She performed her absolute best, the best she ever has. The encore felt great for her as well. The stage was on fire for her, she loved every second of it.
Walking back to the dressing room, “Where did that come from Dani?” Hanni asks, hooking their arms together.
Dani giggles and whispers into her ear, “Y/n is here,” Hanni looks at her with a knowing face, the two giggle to one another. Minji stares at the back of the two girls, she continues as she watches Danielle gather her things quickly, thanking the staff on her way out.
“Dani, you have to stay here,” Minji finally says, stopping her in the halls. The surrounding staff stops and looks at the two girls.
“I don’t need to stay anywhere, I did what I needed to do and now I’m leaving,” Dani keeps walking, ignoring the many looks.
“You’re going to get in trouble with the company, I don’t want that,” Minji follows her, through the sea of busy workers.
“The company meddled in something they shouldn’t have, making me feel like absolute shit. So Honestly I don’t care about the company right now,” Dani reaches outside, there he is waiting. If it wasn’t for the lights she couldn't be able to tell, she starts to jog slightly reaching the car, getting in with ease. Minji can just stand there looking on in disbelief as the car drives away. Dani’s smile is bright, as her hand is holding his hand tightly, “Did you enjoy the Concert Y/n?”
He nods, taking a slight glance over at the gorgeous girl in his passenger seat, “I did, you were perfect tonight,” He kisses her hand, smiling as he gets on the highway.
“I’m so happy,” She giggles, and thinks for a little bit, “Should we do something stupid?”
“What do you have in mind?” he asks as she starts laughing to herself pulling out her phone, getting on the New jeans instagram.
“Just drive,” She says finally, as turns on the cabin lights, starts to take a video showing everything as she leans on his arm. She puts my hype boy as a little text, posting it on their story. She giggles, turning off her phone, “So your place?”
“As forward as always Dani,” He chuckles, her lips grazing against his arm, her free hand rubbing his leg, moving to his noticeable bulge.
“I know you can’t resist me,” She nibbles on his earlobe. He drives on double time, rushing to his place. Trying his best to ignore her teasing, pulling into his driveway both of them hurry out. He couldn’t unlock the door fast enough, as Dani locks his lips into a kiss. The feeling of her soft supple lips is enough to send him into a frenzy. The door finally opens, he tosses his keys somewhere and kicks the door close. His hands roam her body, his all familiar touch down her spine, sends shivers throughout her body. He moved away from her lips, her neck was his target. Finding her weak spot was no effort, her hands latch onto his hair, “Fuck Daddy,” she moans out as she feels his teeth sink ever so slightly into her neck. Danielle pulls away from her neck as she sinks to her knees, getting eye level with what she’s been yearning for. She kisses the outline through his slacks, her eyes flutter feeling the girth between her lips once again. She works on pulling them down, freeing his cock, letting it rest on her face. Peppering kisses up the shaft, her eyes look up at him not leaving him. He always loved it when she would look at him while she sucked his cock. She finally takes him in her mouth, his taste is even better than she remembers. One hand on his balls, the other stroking his shaft as she sucks on the tip.
“Fuck babygirl,” One of her favorite nicknames from him, she pushes him deeper in to her mouth. Danielle feels his hand latch onto her ponytail, using that as leverage to push himself deeper into her throat. She gags but doesn’t pull away when he does it for her. She coughs, spitting on his already spit covered cock.
“I haven’t done this since you Daddy, sorry for the gagging,” She smiles innocently as she licks around his cock, leaving the occasional kiss. Her kisses get more sloppy, spit dripping from her lips leaving a mess on the floor, “What do you want me to daddy?” she says, guiding her lips up and down his shaft, “Call me what you did, I know you want to.”
He pulls Dani up by her hair, “Bend over slut,” She giggles bending over the couch, wiggling his ass at him as she slowly pulls her jeans down. Leaving the lace panties, “You wanted this, didn't you?”
“More than you think Daddy,” She pulls her panties, as her pussy drips with anticipation of what’s to come. He slaps her ass, “Again please daddy,” he complies, slapping her ass more till it’s red. She reaches behind spreading her ass, “Please fuck me daddy, Please I need your cock so badly,” She pleads and pleads until she feels your tip enter her followed by the rest of your cock, “Oh fuck! That’s what I needed, I feel stretched out and so full.”
He starts thrusting, the sound of skin on skin echoes throughout the house, followed by her moans and screams, “Fuck I missed this pussy,” Y/n says between his grunts, squeezing her ass. Taking her the only way he knew, Hard and rough and she wouldn’t have it at all. He quickened his pace before suddenly pulling out, making her squirt all over the floor, her legs shaking threatening to give out. He holds Danielle up by her hips.
“Keep fucking me please daddy! Fuck me till I can’t walk tomorrow,” She pleads again, he shoves his cock back in, she’s still just as tight, “Yes daddy! Give me that cock,” Her hands grip on the couch tightly as he fucks her with reckless abandon. Pulling on her ponytail, smirking as he sees her eyes rolled back. Y/n keeps his pace, getting deeper and deeper inside of her. Her legs have been shaking for a few minutes now, He pushes as deep as he could before cumming. Filling her to the brim, her eyes come back around and widen, as he slowly pulls out as she falls to the floor trying to catch her breath. She looks up at him, his cock still standing proud, glistening her juices. She crawls over taking him into her mouth, cleaning his cock. Y/n chuckles looking at the eager girl. Pulling out of her mouth, he walks to the bedroom, Dani follows him crawling. He pulls her from her ponytail on the bed, spreading her legs, “Give me more daddy~” She giggles pulling him closer to her and she whispers, “Let me have your kids daddy,” His mind goes blank as he scrambles to get back inside of her. Slamming his cock in and out of her as they fight for dominance in their kiss. She longed for this feeling again, his body on top of hers, him using her in any way he wanted. She cums over and over again on his cock, she doesn’t stop him. She wants this, she needs this. She feels him throb inside of her, “Give me your cum daddy, I want to feel it fill me up again~”
“Fuck dani,” he moans out bottoming out in her pussy filling her up again, pulling out and collapsing next to her as she giggles rubbing where her womb would be. She cuddles up to him, kissing his chest. As sleep takes them over, his seed drips out of her, dirtying the sheets even more.
Breaking News: New Jeans Danielle is pregnant?!
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Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh
So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?
I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him
Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)
Anyway have an great day
Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader
Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney
Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)
A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!
Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)
It doesn’t take much to notice you.
He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you.
When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.
“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief.
The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions.
He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table.
Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you.
When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout.
You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you.
And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you.
Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying��, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing.
Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes.
Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”
You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”
He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”
His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches.
“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.”
You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes.
When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.
Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.”
Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”
Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”
He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”
You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”
Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise.
As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal.
A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh.
The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”
You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers.
You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability.
Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”
You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth.
His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste.
Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties.
“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him.
“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally.
The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?
A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!”
More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.
“Miguel!”
The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock.
“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers.
Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts.
“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding.
Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him.
He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.
When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest.
The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you.
“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides.
“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it.
“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”
Part 2
Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara x you#across the spiderverse#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#across the spiderverse smut#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel o hara#spiderman 2099#cherry's requests🍒
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COMPETITION — gojo satoru
satoru tries to beat the bad cook allegations and win his girls back
girl dad satoru, established relationship — you’re married & have a daughter (oc), her name is sora, f! reader, reader is referred to as “mama”, mentions of food, this is a silly little thing, not proofread, wc: 1.2k
satoru can be a lot of things — the strongest sorcerer, the most loving and devoted husband, the world’s greatest dad, society’s biggest menace, and according to some “the owner of the most annoying heh” — but there’s one thing he most definitely isn’t. a good cook.
but ever since you had a family brunch gathering at nanami’s place where the latter had singlehandedly prepared a feast, without letting his wife lift a single finger even when it came to setting the table, satoru took it upon himself to prove that he can be as good of a cook as nanami, or even better.
the way you and your five-year-old daughter, sora, looked as if you’ve just tasted heaven while savoring each bite was a blow below the belt for satoru, while the finishing one was you complimenting nanami and telling his wife how she is the luckiest woman alive to have a husband who’s so skilled and willing in the kitchen because satoru can’t even boil water — to which sora nodded in agreement, “papa really sucks in the kitchen.”
it’s been two weeks ever since and you regret ever making that snarky remark about satoru’s incompetence because you’ve been banned from the kitchen all along, not even allowed to pour yourself a glass of water — all you have to do is ask and your husband will do it for you while you sit back and watch as the state of your kitchen worsens with each passing day.
he would occasionally have sora keep him company and help him prep the ingredients, sometimes even take the first bite if the end product looks edible, but for you the kitchen was completely off limits, he’s got a point to prove — that he is the best husband and you should’ve never said those flattering words about his friend in the first place because he can’t stand it when you acknowledge in any way any other man that isn’t him.
satoru’s determination is strong. he has no intention of letting this matter go, not until he sees that same expression on you and your daughter’s face — this is his life goal right now, he cannot have his two most important girls swayed by another man’s cooking, not even if that man is nanami (and especially because it’s him).
you might be running out of usable plates and pans, as they’re either broken or burnt, but satoru is definitely making progress. all the cooking videos he’s watched and the tips he’s gotten from talking to mothers on online forums are finally paying off because today, for the first time ever, he didn’t burn the pancakes for breakfast.
“papa”, sora looks with disapproving eyes at her dad, her cheeks squished between her tiny palms as she’s leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.
“yes, my life”, satoru crouches down to her level. even though she’s standing on the toddler step stool her head can barely reach his hips. but whenever satoru talks to her, he always, without fail, either squats down or leans forward or holds her in his arms — because in those moments it’s just him and his little princess against the world, on equal footing always so he can hear her better and never miss a single expression she makes. “what’s with that look, hm?”, he nuzzles his flour covered nose against hers, the action itself causing some of the white particles to smudge on hers too.
“the pancakes look like pancakes this time but mama will not like this mess you made, again” — the sink is filled to the brim, there’s flour and baking powder on every single surface — counter, table, chairs, floor, the butter has started melting because satoru placed it too close to the stove after using some of it, there’s eggshells on the floor — any clean freak’s biggest nightmare.
“the mess i made?”, he gasps, “aren’t you an accomplice in this, little miss?”
“no”, she flatly denies, “i only watched you and broke the eggs”
“on the floor, that is”
“it’s because you said pick three eggs while i can only carry two, look—”, she stretches her tiny hands forward, palms facing up, to prove her point, “i have only two hands and they’re not big like yours, how am i supposed to hold the third one?”
satoru chuckles at her genuinely puzzled face, “you’re right, my life”, he replies through a soft smile after taking her hands into his and peppering kisses on the inside of each, “papa didn’t consider this”
“it’s okay, papa”, sora rests her forehead against her dad’s, “i am a big girl now, i will help you clean after breakfast”
“but you’ll always be my little girl no matter how old you get”, satoru whispers softly, lifting her up with just one arm so his free hand can gently caress the back of her head as she comfortably nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, “which is why papa will take care of it”
“but first”, he sits her on the countertop and cuts a small piece of the pancake for her to taste. “say aah”, he holds the fork to her mouth, eagerly observing every gesture on her face as she takes the bite and starts chewing. it’s definitely not the look she made while eating nanami’s cooking but she doesn’t seem to hate it either.
“papa.”
“yes, my life?”, satoru looks at her expectantly.
“can i be honest with you?”
“yes, of course you can”
“uncle nanamin does it better”, she admits to which satoru instantly deflates, “but—”
“but?”, a tiny spark of hope makes it back to his sulking eyes.
“i wouldn’t trade your pancakes for the world”
“YESSS”, satoru triumphantly pumps his fist in the air and spins around beaming with joy, “got one of my girls back on my team — now let’s hear your mother’s verdict… but hold on”, his face painted in concern again.
“hmm?”, sora questions the sudden change in his demeanor.
“sora.”, satoru speaks in a rather serious voice.
“papa?”
“you’re not saying this just because i’m your papa, right?”
“well, it’s partly because of it actually”, sora pauses for a second, trying to pick the right words before continuing, “but it’s because you put so much love and effort to make me and mama happy that it makes anything you do my favorite thing in the world, and i wouldn’t trade it for anything, papa”
“i haven’t tasted the pancakes yet but i must agree with sora on this”, your voice reaches them from behind as you stand leaning on the doorframe. you came following the sweet and warm aroma wafting through the air but found yourself accidentally eavesdropping on their little heart-to-heart talk. “you put your heart and soul for us always — aren’t we the luckiest girls in the world?”, you wink at sora and she nods.
satoru sighs in relief, “if i can’t give you the best of everything that means i am a failure both as a husband and as a father. because you two are my biggest blessing and i only live to make you happy. also — you’re still not allowed in the kitchen, so just stay there and wait for the pancakes.”
#ઈઉ — ai writes#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo fluff#[ ♡ ] — satoru
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