#kinda felt rushed and forced at the end but whatever
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Character Info Sheet
name: Leonard Horatio McCoy
name meaning: Leonard (/ˈlɛnɚd/ originating from Old High German, prefix levon ("lion") from the Greek Λέων ("lion") and Latin Leo, and the suffix hardu ("brave" or "hardy")- meaning "lion strength", "lion-strong", or "lion-hearted".)
Horatio (/həˈɹeɪʃiəʊ/ from the Latin Horātius, possibly meaning "timekeeper")
McCoy (/məˈkɔɪ/ anglicized from the Irish, Mac Aodh (/ˈiː, ˈeɪ/), meaning "son of fire")
alias/es: Len, Doctor, Bones, Leo
ethnicity: American (because his family has been in the Georgia area for at least 200 years)
one picture you like best of your character: (not in character but I have loved this pic since I first saw it)
three h/cs you've never told anyone: (I've had this blog for a little over 10 years, so there isn't much I haven't said in terms of headcanons so...)
While he doesn't hate it per se, Leonard is not a fan of being called Leo. Only a handful of people in his life have called him Leo and they are about the only ones he can stand it from. A couple of whom were his parents and grandparents. A few of his exes called him Leo. He's never really felt attached to the Leo part of his name and doesn't like to be reminded of his deceased family, or of his ex relationships.
He still occasionally has nightmares about the events in ST:ID even after years pass though they lessen in frequency as the years pass. The nightmares range from getting blown to smithereens because the torpedoes were actually bombs and they didn't diffuse it fast enough, not being there when Jim was actively dying to provide something for his…for Jim, not being fast enough and Jim actually dying, and being put on some sort of trial for playing god.
Expanding on previous sexuality and relationship headcanons: Leonard is bisexual, though most of his relationships have been with women. He's a serial monogamist, though with the right people (read: Jim and Spock or some OCs), he could and has done polyamorous relationships. That being said, he doesn't often fool around or have casual sex much because he finds that sex with a long term partner or partners is much more fun and fulfilling, but everyone has itches that need scratching from time to time. He'd probably not describe himself this way, but Len is a service top who can and has switched--he likes making his partner feel good and learning exactly what makes them tick.
three things your character likes doing in their free time:
Reading
Baking
Physical activity
eight people your character likes / loves: 4 canon and 4 muse specific and not exhaustive lists in any way shape or form
Jim Kirk, Spock, Scotty, Uhura, (or basically any of the main bridge crew really)
Silas (@exastrisnonnocere), Khan (@respondedinkind, and a previous Khan I rped with who is no longer on tumblr), Fable (@irresoluteextraterrestrial) or any of @playerentity's muses really, Q/Marcus (@resignedworkaholics)
two things your character regrets: Leonard has tried very hard not to have regrets in his life. But….they have happened.
He regrets not trying harder to find a cure for his dad. Too many what-ifs linger around his dad, and on bad days he airs them out before folding them away as something that is in the past and cannot be changed no matter how much he wishes it could be.
Not telling that one boy at Ole Miss that Leonard loved him. Whether it was fear or something else, Len sometimes wonders what his life would have looked like if he confessed to that man rather than going back to Jocelyn.
two phobias your character has:
thanatophobia - / ˌθæn ə təˈfoʊ bi ə / - an irrational or disproportionate fear of death, and in Leonard's case, for those he loves (he's witnessed it one too many times for it to not be completely irrational in his mind)
aviophobia - / ˌeɪ vi əˈfoʊ bi ə, ˌæv i- / - an irrational or disproportionate fear of flying in an airplane or other aircraft
stolen from/tagged by: @ensnchekov and @exastrisnonnocere
tagging: anyone who wants to do this
#dash games#headcanon#this took forever#im sorry for it being so late#took me forever to finish this#kinda felt rushed and forced at the end but whatever
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Never took you for a pervert, Miller.
pairing: dbf! joel miller x female reader summary: you borrow a jacket from joel, and it returns to him with a stain. he goes crazy over your scent, and he wants more. warnings / contents: 18+ (minors please dni!), big unspecified (but legal!) age gap, brief mentions of alcohol, smut, f masturbation, dbf! joel, perv! joel, dom! joel, spanking, choking, dd/lg dynamic (kinda), daddy kink, praise kink, light dacryphilia, pet names, unprotected piv (wrap it before you tap it please!), creampie, no outbreak, no sarah word count: 4k a/n: i recommend listening to every girl gets her wish by saint avengeline while reading this! it really sets up the whole vibe >< enjoy °༄ !
It all started with that damn jacket.
“It’s so cold, Joel. Please.” You whined, skin shuddering from the breeze. “Told you to bring a coat or somethin’, y’never listen.” He huffs, shedding off the outermost layer of his clothes. He holds it over you, eyebrows raised combined with pursed lips.
You smile at him, quickly grabbing hold of the jacket and putting it on. You waste no time, zipping up the front of the jacket and tugging the ends of it to try and fit your body. It felt huge wrapped around you– it extended past your torso, and you had to tug the sleeves up just to use your hands.
You looked so cute like this, he thinks for a moment, staring at you blankly. His eyes raked over you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Anyone ever tell you it’s bad manners if you stare?” Your voice chimes in like a chirp of a bird, and he’s back to reality.
He shakes his head, walking past you, “Shut up.” He mutters. And you smile.
You were fully aware of what effect you had on him. Ever since moving across his house a few months back, you’ve made it your life’s mission to make him fuck you.
It didn’t take long for him and your dad to form a friendship over football and beer. However, ever since meeting Joel, he was always just this stuck-up, grumpy– presumably lonely– middle-aged man to you. You were just determined to help him, what’s wrong with that? Every time your dad invited him over for dinners or outings, you made sure you wore something that caught his eye.
Even if that means wearing something skimpy during a cold weather.
“I’ll wash this up for you and bring it back tomorrow morning, promise!” You say, looking at him with a glint of mischief in your eyes. He nods, shaking his hand in the air, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Is it wrong that he turns you on?
Is it wrong that you’re thinking about getting stuffed full of his dick? Of his cum?
“Come on, girl.” He calls out to you, and you follow.
For the evening, your dad had invited him to an outing. A fancy word your dad uses for just ordering take-out and eating it in the truck by the woods. They talked for a while, with pauses and laughs in between.
“.. Anyway, I have to drive back to our old place tomorrow.” Your dad says, biting down on his food. You nod before tilting your head, “Why?” He finishes his food before wrapping the packaging and throwing it in a piece of plastic, “Forgot some of my boxes, kid.” He shrugs casually then turns to Joel, “Keep an eye on her, would ‘ya?”
When you get back home, you rush up to your room. You sigh in relief, welcoming the warm air while taking off his jacket. You lay down on your bed, holding the jacket close to you and taking a deep breath of his scent. It was so distinct, so unique, so.. him. Your fingers trace over the fabric, a mental image of him appearing in your head. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your other hand hooks your panties down.
You take a pillow, placing the jacket above it. You straddle over it, forcing the pillow between your thighs. You lean down, burying your face in the jacket as you start grinding on it. Your pussy rubs over the cloth of his jacket, and you can’t help but whimper at just the thought of that.
You were like a woman possessed, chasing your own high as you kept his jacket close. It didn’t take long– his scent drives you mad, almost crazy, and just a few moments later, you let yourself unravel. Sweaty and tired, you collapsed on top of the jacket, coating it with your sweat and essence.
You woke up in a panic, your dad’s knocking alarming you. You sit up straight, tossing the jacket to the side and yanking your blanket over your legs. “Yeah, dad?” You clear your own throat, stretching out your limbs. “Joel’s here, and I’m going.” He says from the outside of the door. “Alright, drive safe!” You call out.
You make out the thuds of his boots down the stairs. You then eventually hear the engine of his car. You look out your window, waving your hand as your dad honks the car before driving off completely.
You get up, picking a pair of shorts from your drawer and putting them on. You grab the jacket from the side of your room, sighing to yourself before stepping out. You walk downstairs to the smell of a fresh coffee pot and some pancakes.
“Figured you could eat somethin’.” Joel’s voice grounds you, his back facing you as he finishes cooking the last pancake. “Coffee’s there, if ‘ya want.” He points towards his right, the tone of his back muscles visible through his shirt. You nod, setting the jacket on one of the table chairs. You help yourself to a cup of coffee, taking a sip before sitting by the table. He turns around to face you before slipping the plate of pancakes in front of you.
“I have to head out to the hardware store, d’ya wanna come?” He asks, sitting on the chair across from you. You nod, taking a fork and getting a bite out of one of the pancakes, “Mhm. Should let me change though.” Your voice is muffled, you haven’t finished the bite. “Now, sweetheart, I believe it’s bad manners to talk with your mouth full.” He grins at you, a smug look spreading across his face.
You roll your eyes, swallowing it before locking eyes with him. “Let me shower and change, Miller.” He chuckles, nodding as he takes a bite of a pancake. You finish your cup of coffee along with the pancake with a satisfied hum before standing up.
Oh! You almost forgot his jacket.
You reach over to the hunched cloth on the chair, grabbing it and sliding it in front of him. You’re off to the shower now, your footsteps echoing throughout the hallway.
He swears you’re trying to fuck him over.
After your little banter, you slip him his jacket and you’re off on your feet. He shakes his head with a smile before his eyes glaze over his jacket.
Just as he was going to turn his gaze away, something caught his eye. A stain. A dried-up stain that left a darker patch on the hem of his jacket. It couldn’t be water, it would’ve dried up normally. He’s familiar with it. After fucking around with multiple women in a variety of compromising situations, he’s all too familiar with what it was.
Dirty. Fucking. Girl.
He takes a deep breath, the confines of his shorts tightening around his hardening erection. He looks down at it, shaking his head.
This is fucked. He thinks, his hand going down to palm his cock through his shorts. He grabs the jacket, bringing the stain close to his nose to get a whiff of it.
Fuck. You smelled amazing. Something sweet, something fresh. By now he’s rubbing his cock with his hand, hips bucking up into nothing.
“Joel! Mind handing me a towel?”
Your voice cuts through his heated session. A grunt caught in his throat, shaking his head and trying to shrug it off by clearing his throat. “Yeah, erm,” He lets go of the jacket, “Where?” He stands up quickly. “Should be one by my room.” You hum from the shower.
“Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters to himself, dragging his feet up the stairs and towards your room. He creaks open the door, scanning the room for your towel. He sighs, walking in and looking at every corner. Your scent is everywhere, making his head spin and cock harder.
He finds your towel hooked on the back of your door, and relief washes over him. He grabs it hastily, pulling a top you discarded days ago with it. It drops down to his boots, and he stares at it. A white lacy tank top, one you wear at home only. He takes a deep breath, every fiber of his being screaming no.
This isn't right, he's too old for you.
He was just going to put it back where it came from. What’s the harm in that? He was just going to put it back nicely, as if this never happened. He scoops it up, the soft feel of the fabric a contrast to his rugged hands. Then it hits him. Your scent. He can smell it all over the top. Didn’t even need to bring it close to his nose to be able to get a whiff of it.
He folds it neatly before tucking it in his pants.
Oh, he was going to hell for this.
It took you days to notice that some pieces of your clothing went missing. First were the tank tops you wore at home, you always tucked them away by the first drawer of your cabinet. Second were the laced bras you bought from a city a long time ago, you mostly just use it when you’re out. Then finally, your favorite white lace thong.
Joel started to come over more frequently, always by the front door with a pack of beer. Your dad was more than happy to let him in. It was strange, some pieces of your clothing came back during the days Joel was over. You thought nothing of it.
Not until you saw him sneaking about the door of your room. He had just excused himself to go the the bathroom, a routine you picked up on ever since he came over more. It was like a tick in your brain– you just needed to know what he was truly doing in there.
Instead, you catch him by your room, thong in hand, nose-deep, and cock hard. You were by the lower part of the stairs, enough to get a good view of what he was doing. Your eyes widen in shock, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
You had him hooked.
Joel knew how fucked up it was. He was inviting your dad for drinks and a good time, only for his main objective to be to sneak into your room and snatch a few pieces of your garments. All for what? Jerking himself off late at night, when all of his pillows are covered in your scent, when all he can think about is the way your hips move, the way your tits bounce.
He knew how fucked up it was, cumming on your garments, moaning your name, and imagining how sweet your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock. He knew how fucked up he was.
But it was better than actually touching you, than actually crossing the line and fucking his friend’s daughter. He kept a safe distance, he kept boundaries, and he made sure he never stepped the line. So, surely, this was better, right? He’d slip into your room, grab a bra, a thong, or a top, and he’d be satisfied. And that was enough.
It had to.
But goddamn you were making it hard. You were making him really hard.
You knew how to push his buttons, knew how to drive him to his limits. Every outfit you put on for him just got more and more enticing. And for tonight, his eyes are now shamelessly scanning every curve and dip of your body.
The hour was late, your dad had excused himself to his room– his head was hurting. It was only you and him now, sitting on the couch, in front of the television. The past few moments were pure torture for him. Every skin-on-skin contact with you made him go crazy, and every time you walked past him, he could just inhale your scent.
He has one of the couch pillows set over his thighs, a weak attempt to cover up the hard-on he earned just by looking at you. Your eyes were glued to the screen, a knowing smile displaying itself on your lips.
20 minutes pass, and so far, he wouldn’t budge off the couch or even get a new bottle of beer. “Would you like a new one?” You turn your head towards his direction. He hums, nodding, “Mhm, sure.” You walk over to the table, grabbing a new bottle of beer before walking back to him. You bend over a bit, handing it out to him.
His eyes lock in on your chest, the soft flesh of your boob peeking out through your low-cut top. And for a moment, he stays like that, mind completely distracted by the view in front of him. “Joel?” You ask innocently, beer bottle still in hand. He clears his throat, nodding his head before taking it out of your hand.
He quickly takes a sip, trying to focus on what shows the television is playing. You smile to yourself, taking a seat beside him. You have a finger over your mouth– you feel the tension, and you scooch closer to him. “What’re ‘ya doin’, kid?” He asks, his voice low, eyes never leaving the screen. “It’s cold.” You shrug.
He turns his back on you, his body facing the other way. Your eyes graze down on his back, admiring the way his muscles bulge through his shirt. Then, you catch a glimpse of your thong in his back pocket.
That was it.
“You know, it’s weird..” You start, looking at him. He looks over at you with his eyebrows raised, “Hm? What is?” You hook your finger on it, pulling it towards you in one swift motion. You dangle it in front of him, a smug look on your face.
“Never took you for a pervert, Miller.”
He looks at you, eyes wide with shock as his grip on the pillow tightens. “M’kay- fuck, I can explain–” He starts, standing up and letting the pillow fall to the ground. Your eyes lock with his boner, a smile forming on your lips. “Yeah?” You tilt your head to the direction of his boner.
His eyes look down for a second, assessing himself. He sighs, running a hand over his face. “Been sneaking around and stealing my things when you could’ve just asked nicely.” You tut, standing up on your feet. “I know you want to fuck me, Joel.” You take a step closer to him. He looks at you, unsaid thoughts crossing over his eyes. He sighs before shaking his head.
“Not here.” Is all he says before picking you up and placing you over his shoulder. You giggle quietly, feet dangling in the air as he makes his way to your room. He fumbles with the door knob before clicking it open and setting you down on the bed. He locks the door behind him, turning around to face you properly.
You’re on your knees, fingers hiking up and glazing over your thighs. He eyes your movements, shaking his head. He walks closer to you until all you can see in front of you is just his tall frame. He grabs your chin, forcibly tilting your head to make you look at him. You don’t utter a word, your eyes scanning the entirety of his face.
“Makin’ it so fuckin’ hard to control myself around you, angel.” He rubs his thumb by your bottom lip. You poke your tongue out, eventually taking his thumb in your mouth. “Just so happens you don’t have enough clothes to cover yourself with when ‘m around, is that it?” He looks at you with a dark gaze, his other hand reaching to unbuckle his belt. You nod, the sides of your lips curling into a smile.
He takes his thumb out, tossing his belt to the side. He sits down on the edge of the bed before unbuttoning his pants.
“Bend.”
His voice drops an octave lower, his hand gesturing to his lap. You’re dumbfounded, lips parted with shock. “What are ‘ya, deaf?” He glares at you. You shake your head and do as you’re told, bending over his lap. He yanks your cotton shorts down, the cold air hitting your bare ass. “No panties?” He asks, his hand groping and getting a feel of your ass. You shake your head, squirming under his touch.
You flinched as the sharp sound echoed throughout your room, a sting following– hot and immediate.
“Words, baby. Let me hear ‘ya.” His gruff voice cooed from above you, his hand soothing over your flesh. “Deliberately wearin’ nothin’, hm? Is this for me, angel?” His fingers rub against your pooling hole. “Y-Yes.” You shook out the word, your hands pressing against his thighs.
Another slap. “Yes what?” Oh, he sounds pissed.
“Yes d-daddy-!” You whimper, your knees pressing together. He leans down on you until his lips are just by your ear, “Now you’re gonna have t’be quiet if you want me to fuck ‘ya properly, understood?” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You nod your head, a tear slipping out of your eye. “Aw, poor baby.” His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping your tear away, “Does it hurt?” He hums. “N-No daddy, promise!” You say earnestly, trying your best to be good for him.
“Count for me, sweet girl.” He orders, his tone leaving no room for protest.
His hand landed on the flesh of your ass, sharp and unyielding.
“O-One.” Your voice trembled under the contact.
“Wearin’ nothin’ but short skirts and cropped tops, tryin’ to kill me.”
The next landed with no hesitation, your cheeks retracting at the contact.
“Two!” You bite your lip, muffling your whimpers.
“Intentionally wearin’ nothin’ underneath those pretty white bottoms.”
The next was harder than the last, more painful– the impact of it spreading heat through your skin.
“Three..!” By now you were crying, your pretty pink cheeks glistening with tears. He pulls your body against his, letting you lean against him. His hands were brushing against your ass, a tender touch– a contrast to his earlier actions. “Did so good for me, angel.” He kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist, “Makin’ me so proud.”
You straddle on his lap, taking one of his legs between your thighs. You start moving, eager for the friction. “What’s this? Pretty baby beggin’ to get fucked?” He coos against your ear, the palm of his hand on the back of your head. “Y-Yes please, please.. been so g-good for you..” You whine, moving your hips faster. His hands travel back to your waist, holding you in place before flipping you over and letting you lay on your back.
He pulls away, tugging his pants along with his boxers. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, long and girthy, twitching and begging to get buried inside of you. Your legs unconsciously spread open, your pussy all on display for him. He smiles at you, leaning over you before kissing your forehead.
“Keep quiet. Think you can do that f’me, baby?” He whispers, his hands on the back of your knees. You nod, your pussy pulsing against the tip of his cock. He leans down, pressing your thighs to your chest as he pushes his cock deep into you. Your knees touch your shoulders, and your hands find their way to his.
Your pussy is stuffed, and you lightly tap him as a signal for him to give you a few seconds to adjust to his size. “Little girl taking me in so well.” He breathes, his hips staying in place. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to make a sound.
Just when you thought he was all in, his hips pressed further against you, driving the extra inches of his cock inside you. “D-Daddy..” You hiccup, tears flowing from your eyes as your legs tremble in pleasure. “I know baby, I know.” He kisses the tips of your eyes, nodding, “Don’t worry. I’ll stretch you out real good, angel.” He whispers by the side of your ear. “Have you beggin’ for more in no time, you want that, yeah?” He lets out a low moan, burying his cock deeper. You try to relax your body, nodding at his words.
His grip on your legs tightens, his hips rocking into you. A moan slips out of your mouth, and he’s quick to cover it with his hand. You look up at him, beads of sweat forming around his forehead, some of his hair sticking on his skin. He looks down at you, his eyes gazing at your chest– your hardened nipples moving against the fabric of your top. He removes his hands from the back of your knees, relocating them to grope on your tits.
He grabs the fabric, tearing it into two impatiently. You gasp at the contact, his hips snapping rapidly as he grunts by your ear. Your tits bounce, and this only fuels him further, “You’re so beautiful, angel,” He praises, peppering kisses on your hands, “Always so good for me.” Your legs hook around his waist, his other hand making its way to your neck. He puts pressure on your airflow, your hands wrapping around his arm.
The obscene sound of your squelching pussy and his invading cock fills the room, and you start to feel light-headed. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back arching against his towering body. You clench around his cock, your legs pulling him closer to you. “Need me buried deep in your pussy, yeah, angel?” He smirks, his other hand teasing your nipples. Your pussy pulses with his words, your head nodding frantically. “M-Mhm- mmfh..”
“You needed this so badly, huh?” He asks, his fingers glazing over your clit. You buck your hips up, desperate for his touch. “So pretty for me.” He rubs your clit with a soft and teasing touch. “M-More.. pleasepleaseplease– hngh–” You gasp, “So close, daddy!” He nods, adding more pressure to your clit.
He looked so perfect right between your thighs, his large frame towering over yours, his hands exploring your body. His hips staggered, “This pussy is mine, understand me?” He lets go of your neck, hands pushing the back of your thighs to your chest. You nod, biting your lip while tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “D-Da- haaah– yours, all y-yours..!” He speeds up the pace, his fingers working their way on your clit.
Your hands fall to your sides, your mind solely focusing on your release. “Just needed t’be fucked stupid.” He whispers, pulling his cock out before slamming it back in. Your back arches, and you’re met with your release. His hands land on your hips, pulling you towards him as he thrusts his cock into you one last time.
He holds you still, his hands kneading on your hips as he leans over you. You feel his cum seep into you, steady ropes of it shooting inside you. He keeps still, making sure that you got every last drop. You feel breathless, your hands finding their way to his chest.
He brings one of your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your fingertips. “So good for me, sweetheart.” He pulls out, collapsing by your side. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
He scans your face, his hand cupping your face. He rubs his thumb over your cheek, leaning closer to kiss it. He was so tender, so sweet with you– like you were the most precious thing to him. His hand rests over the back of your head, cradling you to his chest. You sigh contently, your eyes fluttering as your breathing steadies itself.
He kisses the top of your head, muttering sweet nothings and praises as you drift off to sleep in his arms.
Every girl gets her wish.
white lace divider by @chilumitos , cupid divider by @ioveartfilm ࿐ ࿔*:・゚ !
a/n: my second work! tried to do something new DOMJOELAHA, please feel free to correct me about any mistakes i made! i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! reblogs, comments, likes, or any kind of interactions are deeply appreciated!! xo, pearl!
tags ࿐ ࿔*:・゚ @pedrostories @syd-djarin @knockk0ut @joelscowgirl @rav3n-pascal22 @joelsdagger @joelmillerpascal @joelmillerihardlyknowher @tokkiwrites @taeslarityy @tcmmysheiby @magpiepills @joelsrose @slowdivinqs @mssalo @il0ve-urm0m @ladybirdswritings @fuckyeahdindjarin @joeloverture @wannab-urs @amyispxnk @yxtkiwiyxt @littlcdarlin @joelscurls @goldenispunk @coquettepascal @hellishjoel @joelslastofus @punkshort @iamasaddie @almostempty @gutsby @arcanefox207 @sanarsi @pedrohub @katiexpunk @lover-of-books-and-tea @joyceyayo @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @anenay @ashleyfilm @inept-the-magnificent @skullieispunk @iknowisoundcrazyreads @callsignmedusa @pixelspunk @puduvallee
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joelmiller#dbf!joel#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#oneshot#smut#tlou smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedrohub#pedro pascal fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#the last of us#x reader#pedro stories#joel miller x you#dbf joel miller#by ioveartfilm#pearlispunkfics
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When You’re Lost in the Darkness, Look for the Light
Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader
Synopsis: Your ex, Spencer Reid, has just lost his girlfriend due to her being murdered. When all else fails with the BAU team helping him get through this loss, the only person left to help is you.
Category: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: established past relationship, maeve arc, takes place after 8x12 “Zugzwang”, mentions of death and suicide, technically an AU for 8x13 “Magnum Opus”, spencer is obviously still mourning maeve, mentions of lauren storyline, mentions of breakups, reader was in a past relationship before spencer, kinda sad, hopeful ending(?) let me know if i missed anything! <3
Author’s Note: i feel like this was a bit rushed, especially towards the end butttt i might make a part two to this- just let me know if i should :)
It’d been a few weeks since what happened. Spencer witnessing his girlfriend being murdered right in front of him by her stalker. You knew that he was taking it hard, of course, who wouldn’t after seeing something like that?
The team had been frequently visiting him. Garcia had stopped by with her ninth gift basket on his doorstep, since he never answered. JJ had offered to bring the boys over to cheer him up but Spencer would never answer. Even Hotch, and Morgan tried to get him to get a breather outside of his apartment but of course, Spencer never answered. Blake and Rossi knew that he needed his space, knowing that a loss like this wasn’t easy.
Everyone on the team had tried, everyone except you. And honestly, why would you? Your breakup with Reid was enough reason not to go and see him.
You two had broken up when he’d found out you’d known about Emily taking her death. (You weren’t even supposed to know about it, you had just stumbled across Hotch and JJ having the conversation after you’d found out that your best friend was dead.) After she’d come back when they had a lead on Ian Doyle’s son, Spencer had later confronted you and told you he couldn’t forgive you for knowing for ten months and not telling him about it.
You expressed just how much it pained you not to tell him but that she couldn’t risk telling him. He had to understand that. Frankly, he didn’t.
And it seemed that he still hadn’t forgiven you since then.
It’d been over a year since you last had a full conversation with him since then, only opting for small talk or only talking when it was relevant to whatever case they were on.
And then you found out about Maeve. There were whispers around the office, Spencer was smiling more in the office, he was secretive and not to mention the case with the payphone that you and Blake took him to after needing answers regarding a case. You and Blake badgered him, wanting answers as to why he was being so secretive.
And then his words confirmed it for you — “Because I don’t want them to know about her, okay?”
And so, he had a girlfriend. And you were perfectly okay with that. Of course, it hurt that he’d moved on but someone had to, eventually, right?
Since then, you had avoided him any chance you had. If you two were alone in the kitchenette, you were the one who left first. If there was a spot on the jet open next to Spencer, you’d offer it to someone else quietly. You figured pushing him away — even professionally — was the best thing you could do for your own mental health.
But then Spencer’s girlfriend had gone missing. And you weren’t exactly forced to work a case but it sure felt like it when Hotch said that you guys would be working on your free time. You had half the mind to walk out of the bullpen right then and there. But then you looked at Spencer. Spencer, who looked like a kicked puppy dog with his sad eyes, messy hair and anxious stance and pleading, begging the team to help find her. And you knew that he’d always be your weakness, no matter what. And you’d like to think that maybe he’d do the same for you if the roles were reversed.
It’d taken a few to discover that Maeve’s stalker was Diane Turner, a research assistant at Mendel University where Maeve used to work. Diane applied and was rejected for a PhD after submitting a doctoral thesis about spontaneous cellular death in suicide patients, due to said thesis being biased as it contained references to her own parents, who’d committed suicide. She targeted Maeve, believing she was the one responsible for rejecting her PhD.
You remembered the minute you heard gunshots in the building, heart dropping at the possibility that it may have been Spencer who was shot at, since he offered to trade himself for Maeve. And thought it was better if the team were to wait outside of the building.
You remembered trying to talk him off the ledge but he simply ignored you and went into the building anyway without a vest.
You remembered Spencer trying to talk Diane down as she held a gun to Maeve’s head and growing anxious at the fact that Diane was getting more and more angry.
You remembered what Maeve spoke to him — her last words — “Thomas Merton, he’s the one you can never take away from us.” The proof of how much she loved him.
You remembered Diane pulling the trigger on herself and Maeve and Spencer’s painful pleading as both Diane and Maeve landed on the ground in a puddle of their own blood.
And you hated it but you remembered Spencer falling to his knees, sobbing over Maeve’s body. You could hardly believe it, even when it happened right in front of you. You’d fallen beside him, hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him the best way possible. And he grabbed your hand. Granted, he probably didn’t know or didn’t care enough to know who it was in that moment, but he took your hand anyways.
And since then, not a word from Spencer. And it was starting to worry the rest of the team.
But when you arrived in the office a few weeks after, staring at Spencer’s empty desk, JJ had spoken up and said — “Everyone else has tried but you. And I think you’re the person he needs right now.”
You’d responded, telling her that you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now in his time of mourning. But JJ had encouraged you. You’d known him in ways the team didn’t. Hell, you dated him. And you also knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.
A few years before you dated Spencer, you had had a boyfriend. You were dating him for three years until he lost his life in a car accident. You were heartbroken from the lost and you didn’t go to work for over a month after. The only person that gotten you through that had been Spencer. He always had a way with words and you remembered him being there for you the entire time you dealt with it. A couple of years later, you and him finally began to date.
And now here you were, standing outside of his apartment, wondering how the hell you got yourself in this mess. You’d told Hotch that you needed to take care of something and that you wouldn’t be joining them on this upcoming case. It was true and it wasn’t like you to just call out of work unless it was an emergency. It technically wasn’t a lie, Spencer was your emergency. And you knew that Hotch would understand.
You’d hesitantly knocked, so quietly. “Spencer? It’s me,” You’d spoken up, your voice hoarse. “I, uh, I know I’m the last person you probably want to talk to right now… but… I’m here. If you need anything, I’m right here.” You assured.
To make your point, you moved two of the gift baskets away from the door so you can plop right down on the floor to sit against the door. “And I’m not going anywhere.” You rested the back of your head against the door. “And we don’t have to talk. We can wait however long you need to. I’ll be here.”
“But, please, give me something so I know that you’re alive in there.” You asked and quietly pleaded, “Please.”
You’d waited thirty seconds before you lost hope entirely and then three soft knocks came from the other side of the door and you smiled to yourself in relief that at least he was conscious.
And soon the minutes turned into hours, with you resting your head against that door and shifting a couple of times to get comfortable. Spencer still hadn’t budged since he’d knocked on the door. You’d taken the opportunity to help yourself to one of Garcia’s gift baskets since Reid hadn’t seemed to claim them. You’d opted for one of the fresher baskets since the others had probably been sitting for about a few weeks now. There was a basket with the mini chocolate chip muffins that you snacked on while sitting there.
And after hours and hours of still waiting there with no peep from Spencer, your eyes began to flutter closed at how sleepy you were getting. Sleeping outside of Spencer’s apartment wasn’t the best place for your back or your neck but you had slept in worse places.
You’d probably succumbed to sleep at least a few hours later until you had a rude awakening involving Spencer finally opening his door.
You hit your head right on the floor, which had woke you up. “Ow.” You muttered and looked up, seeing Spencer’s ghostly figure standing above you. You could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “Spencer?”
“You’re still here?” He asked, confusion in his voice. You finally stood up from the floor and nodded at him to answer as he began to walk away from the door and went back to the couch.
It was then that you got a look at his apartment. There were books on the floor everywhere. If you knew better, you’d say Spencer may have thrown them out of anger, pain. Old takeout boxes on the kitchen counter and living room table. It smelt like death — (but it actually might’ve been Spencer). You had to squint to look around since it’d been so dark. “Oh, Spencer…” You mumbled and turned to him on the couch. He was in a fetal position on the cushions, his hair falling in front of his face with an evident frown engraved on his face. He looked like a fragile child and it ached your heart to see him like that.
You found yourself kneeling in front of him and brushed the hair away from his face — like it was second nature to you. Like you’ve done it before. And you have.
You looked around, wondering what you should do, what you can do. And you finally find something small to start with. “When was the last time you slept in your own bed?” You asked and Spencer didn’t answer. You expected that.
You stood up from kneeling in front of Spencer and walked to his room, grabbing a few clothes — a plain t-shirt, a pair of underwear, plaid pajama pants and a pair of mismatched socks. You then went into the hall closet to pull out a towel and a washcloth for him and walked towards the bathroom to start running the water. He always liked it not too hot or not too cold but just warm enough.
You walked into the living room and found Spencer sitting up on the couch. “Why don’t you hop in the shower? I’ve got it running the way you like it.” It took a few seconds but Spencer nodded at you and began to trudge to the bathroom. He’d left the door a crack and you wondered why he did. But then it occurred to you that maybe he didn’t want to feel quite alone for a minute and you were right there if he needed anything. And he knew you had a guilty conscience, knowing that if he had closed the door and he’d done something to himself, you’d never forgive yourself. And you wouldn’t want him trapping himself in the bathroom either.
As Spencer went into the shower, you’d taken care of the rest of the apartment. You started with opening the blinds to bring some sort of light in and then with the kitchen counter, clearing out all of the old takeout boxes and washing dishes and wiping down the table and putting the books back on the shelves. All except for one. The Narrative of John Smith, it’d been the one book that he was clutching onto the entire time she’d been here until you told him to get into the shower. You knew he needed to put that one away on his own terms.
You fixed the couch up, laying the throw blanket neatly over the couch and then walked to his room, setting up his own bed. Wanting for him to be as comfortable as possible.
When he finally exited the bathroom, you didn’t hear him. You hadn’t heard his footsteps as he looked around the living room, seeing how you tidied up the place while he was in the shower. He almost thought you left, until he heard your humming from the other room. You were singing to yourself, a habit you picked up often doing casual things like laundry or spring cleaning. He missed the nonchalance of your presence and as he walked towards the door and found you making his bed, he missed it even more. Missed you even more.
You finally noticed that you weren’t alone, looking up to see him in the doorway and you smiled towards him. “Oh, hi.” You said and he walked into the room, looking down at his newly made bed. “Are you feeling better?”
He didn’t answer verbally, just shrugged.
You didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, you look down at his perfectly made bed and say, “Why don’t you get some rest?”
Spencer nods at you weakly and gets under the covers. You almost want to tuck him in, like he’s a child, but you refrain from doing so. You look down at him and felt like you’ve done everything you could for him. Made sure he showered, tidied his apartment. Surely he’s sick of you being here now.
You ease the awkward tension, sucking in a breath and patting your knees. “Well… I’m just… gonna… see myself out. Get all of the rest you can, Spencer. No rush to come back, just take your time.” You assure finally and silently plead him to ask you to stay longer. Because you don’t exactly feel accomplished at the fact that you haven’t done anything except ask him to take a shower and clean his apartment. It didn’t really feel like a win. Instead, you felt more heartbroken for Spencer.
And somehow, by some miracle, you felt him grab your hand and you turned to face him and his gleaming eyes. “Can you…” The words trailed off from his lips as he stares into your eyes. “Can you stay?” You look at him, with wide eyes. It was like he read your mind. “Please?”
You look at him and try to maintain your composure as much as you can. Because this is the first time he’s asked you to stay the night since you two were together. “Yeah, of course, Spencer.”
He moves towards the other side of the bed to make room for you and you’re shocked by the gesture. You hadn’t shared a bed with him since you were together, either. You sit up against the headboard and he gravitates towards your thigh, resting his head on it and closes his eyes and your hand finds his hair, running a hand through it and trying to maintain his curls at the back of his neck.
Then, you remember. You look towards the drawer next to the bed on your side and wonder. You open the drawer and sure enough, there it was. The brown comb you left behind. You often used it to brush his hair, especially when it was shaggy down his shoulders and he’d often rest his head on your thigh like he was doing now and you’d run your hand through his locks until you’d finally bought a comb. It surprised you that he still kept it. You would’ve thought it ended up in his ‘Y/n box’ like how everything of his ended up in your ‘Spencer box’.
And like second nature, you began to brush his damp locks with the comb, trying your best to angle your arm to not interrupt his rest. You softly smiled at the scene, his eyes closed and nose scrunching every few minutes or so.
You’d suspected that maybe he’d fallen asleep to you combing his hair because his breathing evened and he was quiet with his eyes still remaining closed. But you still found yourself still combing through his hair despite getting the tangles all out.
“I miss her,” He admitted and for a moment, you stopped your movements, not only because his words shocked you but also because you thought he was asleep. “I miss Maeve.” He added and you notice as his lip quivers at his own mention of his dead girlfriend and you do everything in your power to keep your lip from doing the same.
“I know.” You say, your voice so soft and nurturing as you continued to comb through his hair.
Spencer doesn’t say anything else but you were glad he’d spoken out just what he was feeling in that moment. You lean against the headboard, wishing to say more but what Spencer really needed right now was someone in his corner, not someone who wanted to give their own opinion about the situation or relate to him — just someone to listen to him.
You continue brushing until you finally decide that his hair is silky smooth and place the comb on the table next to you and look down at his resting face and instead of the frown you’d seen earlier, you finally see some sort of look of peace. Of course, the sadness is still etched on him from a mile away. But you glad to grant him some form of peace in a time where he’s most desperate of it.
You begin to run your hand through his hair, massaging his scalp like you often used to do when you were together. And for a moment, it’s like you two are dating again and it’s like it’s casual, like you’ve done this before — which you have. But it’s been so long, you never thought you’d be in this position again.
Eventually, he falls asleep on your thigh and his soft breathing is more even than it was before and his mouth is slightly parted as he sleeps. And you don’t care about the crick you’re going to get in your neck from this headboard, you don’t care that your leg is dead and that your pant leg is slightly damp from his wet hair. What matters more than anything right now is him getting the rest he deserves.
And what mattered more than anything and your goal was that Spencer was going to fight through this gaping hole of darkness and find his light eventually. And somewhere deep down inside of you, though you’d never admit it out loud — you hoped that that light was you.
#criminal minds#mgg#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds x fem!reader#spencer reid criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#sc0ttsreid
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ftm reader getting fucked by two monsters shoving their knots deep in his little cunt whiile hes tied up and just takes it
[Request info] - [Navigation]
Gender: FTM reader
Kinks/Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con(?), knotting, DP (double penetration), Dacryphilia, Teratophilia, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader. Hinted at werewolf monsters but I left it vague.
A/n: BRUH, I love this request, again I left the monsters up to the reader but I was thinking of my werewolf pack ocs. It took a little longer than I thought it would but it's fine. Kinda rushed at the end!
| OC(s) used: Monroe & Quinn | Words: 453 | Proofread by @bunnyscone | NSFW |
By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're fine with reading my content (Don't like? Don't read and scroll.)
"There you go, baby boy."
Monroe forced his cock farther into your pussy, stretching it out even more. A groan slipped from his maw, his tongue darting out to lick at your perky nipples. A small cry leaving your lips from the intrusion in your pussy.
"Can you hurry it up?" Quinn growled out, his claws digging into your plush thigh skin. Small red lines form in the trail of them. His cock throbs with need against your thigh, a knot at the base of his cock already swelling up, and he hasn't even started fucking you yet.
"No, I'll take however long I want to savior our little guest here." Monroe quips back, glowering down at Quinn. The two beasts start bickering back and forth, all while you are unhurriedly thrust into by Monroe. They sounded like two brothers arguing over a toy. Quinn was lying under you, your back to his chest, Monroe above you, tugging at one of Quinn's pointy ears.
Each thrust was slow and gentle, a surprise for how big and burly the monster was. Monroe's giant clawed hands hold onto the ropes that had you tied up, unable to move. You could do nothing against Monroe's ministrations or when Quinn slid his hand down to your pussy. His thumb started to rub your sensitive bud while the bigger man still thrust into you. Quinn's other hand holds open your trembling thighs from his place under you, chuckling slightly when your back arches off him.
"You said that last time with the last human!"
That exclamation only got an eye-roll from Monroe, his sharp claws drilling further into the plush skin of your thighs. An annoyed grunt coming from on top of you. "God, you are insufferable. Like a yapping chihuahua that won't shut up."
After a few minutes of the two going back and forth arguing about fucking you, Monroe ultimately relents. "Fine, fine! Whatever!" He says in a rolling growl, moving to spread open your thighs for Quinn. The smaller beast positioned his cock right at your stretched entrance, though, unlike Monroe, he doesn't push in slowly. Like an excited pup, he thrusts himself in. You were already stretched from Monroe's cock, but now with both cocks inside your dripping cunt it felt like you could've been split open. Their knots pressed together as they started to thrust. At first, it was graceless, but gradually, they got a rhythm down.
Their thrust started getting harder, knots slipping in with every push in and out. The cave around them filled with grunts and moans of pleasure as the two beasts ravaged your tight cunt. Until they finally spilled inside you, their fat knots locking their cum inside.
#🗡lurchers.ocs#🗡lurchers.request#x male reader#male reader insert#male insert#male x male#male reader#male x ftm reader#ftm reader#trans male reader#monster x human#monsters x human#yandere monster#monster smut#monster fucker#monster lover#yandere teratophilia#teratophillia#dacryphilia#monster x you#monster x reader#monster x male reader#my ocs: Monroe and Quinn#my oc: monroe#my oc: quinn#my ocs: monroe#my ocs: quinn#my ocs: wolf pack
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
Masterlist
The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar.
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team.
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one.
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance.
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips.
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.”
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals.
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.”
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat.
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses.
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.”
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware.
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling.
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.”
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely.
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief.
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip.
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity.
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much.
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place.
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax.
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door.
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?”
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips.
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures.
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?”
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.”
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace.
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that.
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after.
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things.
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location.
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation.
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places.
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating.
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds.
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night.
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there.
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones.
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case.
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs.
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.”
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction.
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch.
Or a pedestrian.
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights.
“We're here.”
“Great. Let me walk you in.”
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment.
“Okay.”
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him.
“About what, Y/N?”
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow?
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you.
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible.
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-”
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you.
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it.
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?”
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly.
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered.
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.”
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours.
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust.
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there.
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that.
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture.
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?”
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.”
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you.
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically.
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.”
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words.
“You're being an ass.”
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still.
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip.
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly.
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you.
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal.
“No clothes, Y/N.”
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.”
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.”
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor.
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties.
“I also said no clothes.”
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way.
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets.
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back.
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you.
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers.
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?”
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.”
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him.
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely.
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you.
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.”
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment.
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched.
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips.
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could.
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.”
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant.
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night.
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat.
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations.
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust.
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.”
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick.
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted.
“Fuck, Spencer.”
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body.
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you.
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose.
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in.
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space.
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep.
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.”
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth.
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh.
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom.
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.”
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?”
“In the bath.”
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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heyy there can i request some more touya headcannons? i really enjoy your way of picturing him because it’s just so canon and he’s kinda a lovely dick y’know. whatever comes to ur mind. thank u so much!!
weelll since you gave me so much freedom here r some touya as a housemate hcs ANNDD a moodboard bc i enjoy the visualization <3 since we talked abt this the other day too !! (i yapped so hard here sry sry this is so indulgent)
bakugou's and sero's version too hehe
housemates // touya todoroki
touya hates the idea of living with a complete stranger or one of his siblings, so what other option does he have other than forcing his best friend (crush) on a lease with him?
the newfound freedom definitely puts him on his ass for a few weeks. barely sleeps. eats like shit. trash is scattered everywhere. several unpacked boxes. it stays like this until fuyumi comes over to check our the place and gives you two a hard scolding to get your shit together.
more often than not, you'd end up waking up on the couch with your legs sprawled out across his lap and his upper half leaned over the couch arm rest in deep sleep. staying up so late was probably one of his favorite things about living together. being able to talk as loud as you wanted, watch movies late into the night, look over the city from your balcony- he found solitude in existing with you.
if he wasn't already codependent before moving in together, just know his ass will be GLUED TO YOU. you'd be doing work in your room and he'd barge in and flop down on your bed without a word. maybe he'd gotten a bit too comfortable.
if he's feeling extra annoying that day, he'd bring in his guitar and amp and keep asking you to rate his riffs until you entirely give up on work and give him some attention.
is it obvious his love language is quality time? not only that, gift giving too. he's like a fucking crow.
"look what i found. it's a rock. for you."
makes him soooo giddy to see your display of the rocks, feathers, and dried up flowers he picked up for you on his walk. sometimes you'd come home and there'd be a new addition to the ever growing collection.
ofc you'd return the energy in a different way. touya will not cook for himself. ever. he eats like shit as an internal rebellion against the healthy diet he was forced upon as a kid, but you will not allow that boy to rot himself from the inside out!! he can expect several tupperwares of portioned out meals with notes attached to the lids if you know he'd be home all day by himself.
"to t <3. if you don't eat every last bite i'll find out and it'll hurt my feelings and i might combust into flames or something idk don't risk it!"
i can also imagine him holding back tears whenever you ever come into his room to hand him a bowl of cut up fruit. the first time you do it he'd be speechless like jaw dropped taken aback. has he ever felt love like this??? i think not.
despite all of the kind gestures, he's still touya todoroki. hides your keys if you annoyed him that morning by rushing him in the bathroom and makes you a few minutes late to class/work. chronic door slammer. pisses with the door wide open. no sense of privacy and do not gaf to knock. always locking himself out -> i feel strongly about this like imagine coming home after a long day and he's sitting out in the hallway with a pouty face waiting for you hehehe.
i don't think he'd realize this crush until a few months after you've moved in together. how could he when you two practically already act and bicker like an old married couple?
yes- peanut butter belongs in the fridge. no- it doesn't. stop leaving your socks everywhere. you forget to flush again. stop slamming the doors. you ate my chips, didn't you? don't lie. did you really need to put the mugs up that high? (he does it on purpose, and tightens the lid to every jar too.)
it wasn't until one late evening when he comes home to find you frantically mixing a doughy substance in a large metal bowl. you never bake, but you have your own oven now, so why not?
"god, finally. help me, my arms hurt." you groan, shoving the bowl in his hands. "i think i fucked up."
he sees the hurricane aftermath of your kitchen- flour everywhere, egg shells left on the counter, every single jar imaginable opened and scattered around. he could be teasing you about the mess, but god you looked so beautiful with that stupid wrinkle in between your eyebrows as you read over the recipe, and the streaks of flour across your pant leg from wiping your hands, and the way you swipe away the stray pieces of hair falling in your face with the back of your hand- oh fuck.
he thinks he's falling in love with you.
he swallows it, but he starts acting kinda weird around the apartment.
like he's.... avoiding you?
living with his best friend whom he just so happens to develop a crush for, would eat him alive. he locks himself in his room and chain smoke out his window while he's stressing the fuck out. he told you he'd stop smoking, but he's sure you'd understand the need for it right now. he hopes you can't smell it.
i also think he'd be a stress cleaner lmaaoo he cannot sit still with his thoughts for too long, so the headphones are ON and blasting and he'll definitely use that as a scapegoat + the loud ass vacuum for ignoring you if you try to talk to him while he's on this cleaning frenzy.
you think he's sick LMAO imagine the pain he feels when you come knocking on his door and calling out that you're leaving a bowl of soup and cough medicine outside his door for him. he doesn't tell you that yeah he's sick but *not in that way*
lovesick. that boy is lovesick!!!!!!
how do you avoid your housemate while you figure out how to control your feelings?
he confesses via note that he leaves on the kitchen counter. really simple tbh nothing too extravagant, but he signs off by telling you that he's staying crashing at fuyumi's for a couple days.
you text him a string of obscenities to get his ass back home and he does (he's scared of you).
he CAANNOOTT talk about his feelings in an adult way. he is sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch, twiddling his thumbs, and staring down at his feet like a child while you reread his confession note out loud to him. you find his discomfort hilarious but endearing. he finds you unbearably insufferable.
jesus the amount of times in that apartment where he would storm off to his room whenever you two got in an argument or you pissed him off...old habits die hard, you guess, because this isn't the todoroki household anymore and you aren't scared to lose that deposit and kick a door down.
once you corner him and get him to open up about his feelings the air in the room suddenly shift!! the clouds are clearing and the sun is shining woooowww look at what good communication can do.
sharing an apartment with your BOYFRIEND is no different than sharing one with your best friend. i think he'd like to keep your separate bedrooms to have your own space, but you'll rarely sleep apart.
so! many! new! traditions!
helping him dye his hair on the first saturday of every month. biweekly horror movie marathons. counting the communal piggy bank ever couple months. trying new takeout spots until you find THE spot for every category- chinese, pizza, ramen, etc etc.
and finally, an everlasting mark on your first apartment together: a small carved out heart around your initials left on the inner corner of a kitchen cabinet done with his pocket knife on a random weekday evening while you two are cooking dinner together.
-
touya tag: @moonchild701 @kaldurahms-lover @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm
#SOORRYYY THIS IS SO INDULGENT but wow it feels good to vomit it all out like this#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#dabi#touya todoroki#dabi x reader#mha dabi#touya#touya x reader#todoroki touya#touya todoroki x reader#mha touya#todoroki toya x reader#dabi headcanons#touya todoroki headcanons#touya headcanons
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━ 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙳
➛ various!yandere!male oneshots x fem!reader
title page┆word count: 2.3k┆warnings: dazai behavior, death, forced touches (kinda), manipulation, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, suicide, yandere themes┆a/n: the plot for this one-shot was actually the plot I had for a hanako-kun x reader fic that I never got to finish. (btw “bella” means “beautiful” and “belladonna” means “beautiful lady.” It is also the name of a flower) kinda rushed ending I think
𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀
yandere!osamu d. x fem!reader
⤷ ❝ 𝕺𝕳,
my elegant flower…” Dazai breathily muttered into your ear, his right hand traveling down your body to secure itself onto your waist. The other lightly sliding down your arm until it met with yours, your hands mending together almost perfectly.
He began taking slow, steady steps with you in his firm, yet ever so delicate, arms. You hated the way he made you feel; and the heat rising to your cheeks didn’t make it any better.
The way his hands held onto you like nothing else in the world mattered made you sick. Like he was so deeply in love with you, that he never, ever wanted to let you go.
And this this hell felt like heaven for him.
So much like heaven, that he’s made you forget how and why you’re even in this concerning situation.
You and Dazai danced together as if you both were lovers, destined to always find each other in whatever universe God puts you in.
But it was quite the opposite.
Take where you are for example, atop the roof of an abandoned 5 story building at the dead of night.
Why are you even here, you ask? Well let’s go back to the beginning.
You and Dazai are coworkers at the Armed Detective Agency (ADA), and have been for the past few years. And because of that, you’re practically around the man 24/7.
But what’s so wrong with Dazai? Well, not only is he extremely irritating and obsessed with suicide, but it’s so painfully obvious that he’s obsessed with you as well!!
He’s overwhelmingly clingy and flirtatious, not to mention his constant attempts at suicide and begging for you to join him in a double suicide drive you mad. He can also be a tad bit controlling and manipulative when it comes to spending time with others.
“Oh, bella…” Dazai sang as he kneeled in front of you while you sat in your desk chair, his hands keeping a firm grip on yours. “…I can just imagine how beautiful your hands would look around my neck, finally granting me the sweet gift of death I crave so muc—“
“-Quit flirting with L/n, Dazai! Get back to work!!” Kunikida shouted at the suicidal brunet before dragging him away from you by his shirt collar.
You sighed at the scene before you, quickly turning back towards your desk and returning to your job. But your peace and quiet didn’t last very long until you were assigned the job to check out an old, abandoned, warehouse that is suspected to be the hideout for an unknown organization kidnapping certain people around the area of Yokohama.
Of course, you agree to the job and the partner assigned to you… but you declined the last part. You insisted that you did not need anyone’s assistance in this job, mainly because you didn’t want a certain bandage-waster recommending himself as the perfect candidate for the position.
You left the ADA building, ready to save the captives and go home and sleep. But someone had ulterior motives…
Once arriving at the warehouse, you pulled out your gun and hid in a blind spot from anyone inside the abandoned building.
Your eyes scanned the perimeter and the entrance it’s self and… “Is no one in there?” You quietly muttered to yourself; there was absolutely no sign of life anywhere.
What the fuck? You thought.
You were about to walk over there before you were stopped by your gun being snatched right out of your grasp.
“I doubt you’ll be needing that, bella.”
Gasping in shock, you spun around on your heel, meeting eyes with… him. “Wha… what are you doing here, Dazai!?”
“Call me Osamu,” he added rather quickly, “and what’s so wrong with a fellow member of the agency taking the time out of their evening to assist their dear colleague?”
You angrily glared at him but he seemed to not care. It’s almost like he loves getting a reaction out of people, especially you.
“I thought I told you I liked working alone…“ what made you trail off of your sentence short was Dazai reaching for your hand and gently holding it in his.
He didn’t dare to break eye contact as he kissed your knuckles. You grimaced at the feeling, cursing yourself for not snatching your hand away and shoving him away from you.
“I could be trying out a new method of suicide right now, but I decided to spend my time with you.” He added with a small pout.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Wow, how selfless…! Now leave, I’m trying to do my job here!! Now give me my gun back!!!”
You jumped to reach the black weapon but he held it over your head, “Ah, ah, ah! I told you that you won’t need this, haven’t I, my dear belladonna?”
You tightly pressed your lips together, already knowing that Dazai won’t give in that easily. Shit, he probably won’t even give in at all!
“You know, I might reconsider that offer of strangling you to death right about now…” you muttered under your breath.
“Oh really?” He leaned over towards you a bit, you didn’t exactly expect him to hear you. “Sorry, but I prefer my deaths to be painless and knowing you, that probably won’t happen.”
Sighing, you reached out your open hand in front of him, “My gun.”
“Well that’s not a complete sentence now is it, Belladonna?” Laughing softly to himself Dazai, sat up straight. “I’m getting sick of this back and forth banter, let’s just go inside the place already.”
Dazai threw his hands back, the gun flying back even further. You watched in horror as it disappeared into the overgrown vegetation.
“You fucking—“
The bandaged brunet grabbed onto your wrist and forced you into the warehouse.
The second you both ran through the door, you pried your wrist off of his hand, “What the hell’s wrong with you, Osamu!? There could’ve been a bunch of armed men in here trying to kill us!!”
“But there wasn’t.” He stated bluntly, not even wanting to touch on the fact that you have just referred to him as “Osamu.”
Seething, you tore your gaze away from him and looked around the empty space around you. No one’s here either.
“You’re right. There… isn’t…” You looked around for a good 5 seconds before a loud gasp echoed through the room.
“What? You… you lied about the- the everything didn’t you!? The kidnappers and—”
“-I didn’t lie, okay.” He raises his hands up In defense. “All I did was tell you the wrong address, the kidnappers are somewhere on the other side of Yokohama but who cares!!” He laughed uncaringly at the situation.
“You cannot be fucking for real right now…” you rubbed your temple at the mere thought of this. It was absolutely unbelievable.
You and everyone at the ADA might know this already, but it’s becoming more and more evident as the days go by: Dazai is fucking insane.
“Come on, Y/n!! Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights!!” You must’ve zoned out for a moment because now Dazai is climbing the stairs up to the next floor as he urges you on to follow him.
Already mentally drained, you wanted to turn around and go home, but something about this intrigued you so you went along with it.
That was your first mistake.
This went on for another twenty or so minutes until you both have reached the roof. Quite frankly, you were tired and out of breath. Panting as if you had just ran a fucking marathon.
“You made it!” He claps his hands together, “Barely…” he adds on under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
“Why… did you bring me here…?” You said as you finally got a hold of your breath, noticing that it is already dark outside. The only light source being the bright, half-moon in the sky.
“Bring you here…?” Dazai slowly stepped closer to you, chuckling darkly to himself, “What do you mean? You followed me all by yourself. You could’ve turned around and went home whenever you wanted.” As if he’d even let you do that in the first place.
“Uh- well…” you stuttered, “Whatever.” Crossing your arms you, turned away from him.
The bandaged brunet stepped closer to you, “C’mon, bella…“ He whined, shoving his hands into his pockets; a strange smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“What’s the matter? Are you mad because I lied to you?” He teased you in a mock baby voice, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you.
You turned around, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but his brown eyes looking right through your soul silenced you. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t make out. Was he frustrated? Maybe amused?
Whatever it was, you didn’t want any parts of it.
“I don’t even know why I followed you up here. I’m leaving.” You swiftly turned around again, and began walking away. But a firm grip on your forearm stopped you right in your tracks.
“Hey, what are you-“
He didn’t respond. He only yanked you into his arms. His, that you won’t admit, warm and loving arms. His arm was tightly around your waist while the other gently rested on top of your head.
“Dazai,” you paused, horribly frustrated with yourself for finding somewhat enjoying his embrace, “what are you doing?”
“Y/n, you know how I just love the idea of committing a double suicide with the beautiful lady I fall in love with?” He whispered to you, his arms securely around your waist.
“Uhm, yeah? I guess? What does any of this have to do with…?”
“I have another question,” he continued, “You do know I’m in love with you, right?”
“You what!?—“
Suddenly, Dazai released you from his embrace, you would’ve lost balance if he didn’t secure his grip on your waist.
“Oh, my elegant flower…!” he breathily whispered into your ear as his hand firmly grasped onto yours. You looked into his brown eyes that sparkled like stars in the beautiful moonlight. You hated the way he looked at you. You just hated absolutely everything about him. Why did he of all people have to fall in love with you?
At this point, you have no idea what the fuck is going on. Feeling weird by not doing anything with your free hand, you awkwardly placed your free hand on his shoulder.
You’ve never slow danced with a man before, but this what they do on movies, right? This is good enough.
He began taking slow, steady steps with you in his firm yet ever so delicate arms. You couldn't help but divert your gaze away from him whilst your face flushed a soft red color. Why am I blushing like crazy right now? Why won’t it stop!?
“Did you not hear me?” He continued the previous conversation, momentarily stopping his movements, “I said that I’m in love with you.”
“You’re… in… in love?” You felt so stupid at this moment. Has it not been obvious since the beginning? He constantly compliments you on a daily. He’s even expressed his interest in committing a double suicide with his lover, and you just happen to be the person he bothers with the question the most. I’d have to be stupid to never realize it, shit.
“No, that’s not true…” his grip around your waist now becoming hellishly tight. A gasp escaped your lips but it was quickly overrun by his words, “I’m obsessed with you. Why else would I lie about your current mission? I just needed this alone time with you. There’s something really important I needed to tell you.”
“I- are you crazy!?” You shrieked, your last pieces of sympathy for him instantly shattering into oblivion.
“Only crazy for you, my beautiful flower.”
“Dazai, are you seriou-“
Before you could get a word out, Dazai pressed his soft lips against yours. The kiss was only a few seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity.
Once he finally pulled away, you caught your breath. In a melodramatic manner, nonetheless.
An amused smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he stared straight into your eyes, “I doubt it was that bad, Y/n.” He chuckled softly.
“You can’t hate me that much, my dear bella.”
You didn’t respond to him, only diverting your gaze away from him. “I do, I really do…”
He laughed quietly before beginning to take a few steps with you. You became more and more embarrassed each time you slipped up and stepped on his feet but still not feeling obligated to mutter a quiet apology.
But then, there was a sudden stop. You could feel Dazai’s heart pounding faster than usual. He redirected his gaze and bit his lip nervously before looking straight at you.
He placed a soft kiss against your forehead, and muttered a quiet declaration of love before hugging you tightly. Embracing you with all of his might.
And leaning forward. At first, you thought that he was passed out or something and that you both were stumbling to the ground, but that wasn’t the case. It was quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.
Now it all makes sense. Why he stopped dancing; Because you were on the edge of the roof, perhaps?
Why he grabbed onto you; So you wouldn’t fight against him, maybe?
His decoration of love… he was going to kill himself.
And bring you along with him.
Tears ran down your face as sobs ripped through your throat. You couldn’t believe it, despite how surprising that sounds. It just feels like some kind of act of betrayal to you, even if he is dying as well.
The moment before you and Osamu hit the rock-hard pavement, he let go of you and muttered a phrase you may never forget, even in the afterlife:
“Thank you.”
back to title page ┆cingulomania (noun): ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ
#yandere#male yandere#fanfic#fanfiction#yandere x reader#female reader#yandere bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs dazai#bungou stray dogs#bsd#yandere bsd#yandere dazai x reader#yandere dazai#yandere osamu dazai#dazai x reader#dazai osamu#osamu#osamu x reader#osamu Dazai#yandere osamu#bsd dazai#tw sui ideation#bsd fanfic#bungou gay dogs#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs fanfic#dazai fanfic#Dazai x reader fanfic#dazai x fem reader#yandere Dazai x fem reader
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top of the game
somehow this, lwk kinda long shit, turned out as the first one i put out lmao (i was having cockwarming daydreams bout giselle so i just had to yap about it). its not the best. ending is ass and rushed. and the writing lwk comes off as a man but i promise im a woman with child bearing hips 😭 im just also a masc lesbian so a lot of my "str8 writing" shit stems from that.
giselle x f!reader (MATURE)
cw: strap on, cockwarming
---
"put this on."
confused, but quick to obey, you paused your game and took off your shorts slipping on the sex toy you didnt even know your girlfriend, giselle, had.
she soon disappeared to your shared room so you refocused your attention back onto your game. after thirty minutes, giselle was still nowhere to be found around you. quickly looking down, your eyes met with the toy your girlfriend had brought for you to wear: a strap-on with a girthed purple dildo attached.
"love! just how much longer do you expect me to keep this on?"
no answer.
"aeri?"
again. no answer.
finally standing from your spot, you walked to the shared bedroom she was in, slowly peaking in while knocking at the door to alert her. she turned to you panicking, hurriedly throwing one of her makeup brushes at you signaling you to leave. after what seemed to be eternity, but was really only fifteen minutes, your girlfriend finally came back out from the bedroom as beautiful as ever, black lace "covering" her from the top down.
"i wanted to try something i saw the other day."
excited, yet scared, you followed along with whatever she felt like doing to you, holding yourself back with every cell in you to not jump on her and ruin her little surprise she had already planned.
"you... you can get back to your game."
when five minutes passed, she slowly made her way towards you. turning around, she positioned the dildo perfectly at her entrance, sliding it in with a moan quickly leaving her lips. instinctively, you tried to move your hips, wanting to thrust the fake attachment into her. her hands automatically coming down to hold your hips still.
"please let me be the one to guide us tonight. please."
you nod your head in agreement trying to get back to your game but inevitably getting distracted with giselle now sitting in your lap perfectly cockwarming the dildo, with any and every little movement from you accidentally forcing a beautiful moan from her.
#girl group smut#aespa smut#aespa giselle smut#aespa#aespa giselle#wlw#giselle x f!reader#aespa giselle x f!reader#aespa x reader
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Hellows...we needs more star sanses! Requesting for these beautiful skeles in a first meeting with a fem reader, but they kinda bumped and accidentally kissed each other. UwU
pls. take ur time and take care of yourself too 💛
I'm Sorry, got stressed that ink's part didn't get saved and never touched this again- I'M SORRY TRAVELER!!
Featuring: Dream, Blue and Ink.
Masterlist
Blue
"Shit shit shit I'm late!"
You breathe heavily while running as fast as you could, you've woken up an hour later than normal, trying to get to the cafe you work in as fast as possible, this has happened before and your boss was not happy about it. You were barely even awake, since your vision was a bit dizzy from not eating breakfast and rushing, that you didn't even see the skeleton with a blue cape in your way, bumping into him and falling down.
You let out a squeak as you felt his chest hit yours, his teeth against your lips, a short kiss that you quickly broke by moving your body up, facing the monster's empty sockets as a darkish shade of blue spread all over his face.
"I'm so so so so sorry sir!!" H-here, let me help you out.."
As you got up, you extended your hand towards the unknown skeleton, which he grabbed as support to get up, passing his hands on his clothes to try and get some dust off.
"Uuh... Thanks..."
When he looked back, you were no longer standing in front of him, it took him a while to see you in a crowd running inside his favorite cafe..
Dream
Another day, another room to clean... You were taken by Nightmare as a maid, not that you had any better choice since between old guys who'd give you a tight, sexualized uniform plus giving you glares and staring at your private parts and the king of negativity who'd let you live on the palace and give you a good enough payment + an actual proper maid uniform, you didn't have to think twice, did you?
"Huh? What was that noise?"
You turned your head around not seeing anyone, yet the sound of a vase breaking certainly caught your attention, maybe it was killer and dust fighting? No.. they were on a mission.. maybe one of Killer's cats decided to roam the place and broke something? Well, whatever it was, you were the one that needed to clean it anyways.
Your footsteps echoed though the hallway, you signed seeing the broken glass on the floor, quickly grabbing your broom and sweeping it to the trash, yet you almost didn't hear heavy breathing since a figure ended up bumping into you full force, throwing both him and you on the ground, your lips smashing into his for seconds before he lifts himself up.
"Oh gosh, I'm so so so sorry! We need to get you out of this place!"
You look at him with a confused expression as he grabs your hands, lifting you up too.
"Uhh... Sir I work here.."
"What?"
"Dreamy boy come back here!"
Killer's voice was heard from the distance, the unknown skeleton looked back and started running, disappearing on the halls as you see both Killer and Dust run past you with a knife and bones on their hands.
"There isn't a normal day in this godman Castle.."
Ink
It was a beautiful day outside, birds were singing, flowers were blooming, on days like this, humans like you... Were walking home with groceries bags on your hands.
It didn't take long for you to get home, you lived some minutes from the market anyway. You unlock the door with the key, placing the bags down on the kitchen table and begin to unpack, organizing everything in their designed places.
"Fuck I forgot the eggs."
You sign, hitting your forehead with your hand as you turn around, ready to leave, were the eggs necessary now? Not really. Then why did you go to the store again? Because you knew you'd forget about them the next time.
The cashier looks at you confused and holds back a giggle when he sees you carrying the box of eggs on your hands, scanning your card and asking if you want a bag, which you decline, it's just some eggs, they really aren't that heavy, he smiles and wishes you a good day for the second time.
You were getting close to your house, you smiled, thinking about getting back in your pj's and watching cartoons all day, or maybe playing some video games..
Your thoughts are quickly interrupted by a skinny skeleton running against you, bumping into your body making you trip and fall, his teeth ended up pressed against your lips, yet the kiss was broken quickly as he lifted himself off you.
"Heh, not even taking me to dinner first?"
He giggles as you look to your right, seeing the eggs cracked open on the stone ground.
"My eggs!! Fuck now I'll have to go back to the store again..."
You mumbled touching the open box ripped on the ground, you turn your head to look at the man, yet in his place was a note and a 5 dollar bill.
'Sorry there!' was written on the piece of paper, leaving you with five dollars and already a bad start to your morning.
#sans x reader#undertale#undertale au#sans au#sans undertale#sans#x reader#star sanses#dream sans x reader#dream sans#underswap sans x reader#swap sans x reader#swap sans#ink sans x reader#inktale#ink sans
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Campus Breakdown
prompt: ( requested ) after a hard day, at least you can come home to him.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: reader's a graduate student, cursing, small angst but mostly small hurt bigger comfort.
The door slammed shut in a forceful rattle, making Carmy perk up from his place on the couch. "Baby?" He called, setting aside the magazine you left behind.
"Carmy?" You sounded confused, exiting the foyer to round into the living room. "Hey, what're you doing home so early?"
"Uh, pipe burst at work, left Fak t'deal with it," he sniffled, muting the television. "What's up with you? Or do you always slam doors happily around here?"
You sighed, "Sorry, I just - it's been a day and a half, you know?"
He pouted dramatically, offering, "Wanna tell me 'bout it?"
"It won't fix what happened."
"No, but it might help get it off your chest, filter a little emotion."
You nodded absently, "I think I might want a glass of wine first - maybe two."
He felt a surge of empathy in his chest, knowing that distant look in your eyes and the way your entire demeanor seemed absent, distracted, exhausted. Work often kicked his ass, too, so there was an understanding after so many nights you had let him rant and rave about whatever went wrong - it was only right to return the favor.
Carmy readjusted the pillows and coffee table, leaning over to light the scented candle you kept there; grabbing a blanket to prepare for you. When you entered the living room, you had stripped out of your pants and was pouring a glass of wine, leaving the bottle on the cleaned-up coffee table; sighing when you dropped onto the couch.
"All right, pretty girl," Carmy chuckled, pulling your feet into his lap. You readjusted with a small grumble as Carmy then tossed the blanket over you, but left your feet out for him to massage. "Tell me what happened today."
You held up a single finger, downing more than half your glass of wine. Carm's brows perked up, blinking in shock before nodding slowly when you swallowed. "Today. Fucking. Sucked," you told him.
"I can see that, and feel it - your feet are knotted," he noted, working his thumbs into the meat. "Did you sit down at all today?"
"Well, no, 'cause I had to work alone today," you groaned. "Lisa has mono, Brittany had to make up some exam, Benjamin apparently had a meeting with the bursar's office, and Stacy literally stood outside, fighting with her boyfriend - like what!?"
Carmy offered you a stale look in reaction to your story, "She get docked?"
"Well, yeah, I mean, I kinda had to; she didn't bus a single table, she didn't talk to a single customer, like, the only other person working with me today was Carl and he was in the kitchen the whole time."
"Doesn't sound exactly fair..."
"It's a shitty campus diner, Carmy, 'fair' isn't exactly in their vocabulary, but the tips are semi decent 'cause we have that 'drunk rush special'. Oh! Wait! That's not all," you hummed, taking another gulp. "'Cause why would anything go right on a day I worked the entire floor alone? Right?"
"What else?" He asked, turning in his seat so he could face you directly; still massaging your feet, but leaning his cheek on your bent knee to remain close.
"The fucking register went down."
"You mean the only one in the whole place?"
"Yep, of course! 'Cause why the fuck wouldn't anything go right?" You scoffed. "And it's not like any of this was, like, hidden, you know? It was very obvious I was working alone, the register was fucked, but do you think that made anyone empathetic towards the situation? No, of course not, they wanted to just pay their bills and leave. Which I fucking get! But like, what!?"
"What'd you do?"
"Took cash only," you shrugged. "ATM was still up and running, so it was on them," you wiped you eyes, sighing deeply. "Still bitched the whole time though, complained to whoever listened. End of the night, that new manager even docked my tips, you believe that?"
"Hold up - for what?" Carm snapped.
"Customers were that pissed, Carmy, so a few of them dined-and-dashed, someone had to pay," you whined, head tilted back. "Like I did any of this on purpose? Like I went and unplugged shit myself? Like I wanted to make my life significantly harder? Do people even fucking think by themselves now? Where's the empathy?"
"Nah, they definitely lack in that department," he chuckled. "Know what I'm gonna say, right?"
"Hmm? Oh, Carmy, no," you groaned, "I'm not working at The Beef."
"It's ten times better than where you work, baby," he pouted. "And I could use someone with experience like yours with the customers. Richie's not always the best 'face of the store', you know?"
"No, Carmy," you refused sternly.
"C'mon, why not?"
"You as my boss? And boyfriend? Fuck no!"
"I'm literally so nice!"
"Yeah, that's exactly what Sydney says," you laughed, nudging his stomach with your foot. "Baby, no. Listen, I appreciate it, I really do, but I get ten times the tips at that shitty diner than I would at The Beef, and it's right on campus so I lose literally no time."
He sighed, "You're only, what? A year out from your Masters?"
"Just about," you grumbled with a pout.
Carmy chuckled, "C'mon, baby, don't torture yourself. Get a new job."
"I'm not, I'm just - " You cut yourself off with a sigh, hating that advice (as if it were just so simple), shaking your head and finishing your wine. "I'm just dealing with my current circumstances, I'm sorry I came home in a bad mood - "
"No, hey, wait," Carmy sat up, reaching for your cheek to hold, "I didn't mean to make you feel as if I was shutting you down. Baby, I always want you t'talk to me, okay? I just mean, there's something better out there, and you deserve better than that place. I hate seeing you so stressed out," he pouted dramatically, making you snicker lightly.
"You're one to talk," you reminded softly, sitting up so you could nestle under his arm. "You're stressed out, like, more than 90% of the time."
"Hey now, we're talkin' about your day, not mine," he deflected with a small chuckle. "What if I asked around a bit? You know, a different server job? I can check out places close to campus, but you'd get much better tips and better customers at a nicer place."
You groaned, "Now that sounds nice." He chuckled with you now. "I mean, it's bad enough I have to deal with those creepy frat boys in class, but in the diner, I have to play nice 'cause they tip with daddy's money well if I don't shut them up. It'd be nice working somewhere they couldn't even afford t'walk into."
"See? I'm good for something."
"You're good for everything, Carm, shut up," you laughed, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I'm just tired of this whole 'pay your dues' bullshit. You know? I get having to suffer a little to build a better character, but for fuck's sake."
Carmy pouted, "Sounds like a second glass of wine kinda rant?"
You pouted back at him, nodding, both mockingly making little noises as he lifted from his sitting position to snag the bottle of wine. You smiled as he poured, watching his face, loving the effect he had on you; feeling calm and serene, and it wasn't the alcohol. When the bottle was set aside again, he tugged your legs over his lap and laid one of his arms around your shoulders; keeping you snuggled close and under the blanket.
"What else happened?" He asked softly, kissing your temple.
"I don't want to sound like I'm just bitching."
"How else do you expect to blow off steam? Huh?" He countered. "You're not bothering me, I want to hear this, baby - all of it. So, lemme recount, yeah? Okay, so, you worked alone your whole shift with only the frycook in the back, the cash register went down, and that made a buncha customers all pissed off. Enough that a few dipped off and you had to cover their bills. But the ATM was good, so they could still pay cash, but they were still being dickheads, yeah?"
"Mhm," you hummed, halting yourself.
"Nuh-uh, c'mon, what else?"
Tears sprung to your eyes as your head lulled onto his shoulder. "It was just a really shitty day, Carm," you whispered, giving a small sniffle. "Guys are grimy and gross, they garnished my wages 'cause of those dashers - I told you. It was a fucking shit show! Oh, and a few bulbs blew all within 10 minutes of each other - like fully snap, crackle, and pop, blew out. So, I had to call the electrician, he took over 2 hours to get there, so, part of the back dining room was darker and this group of guys all decided to sit back there - it was so fucking creepy!"
Carmen frowned, listening to you rant and rave about how overworked and under appreciated you were. He held you tight, raking a hand through your hair, tracing invisible patterns on your upper arm; keeping you close as the wine slowly sunk into your blood. You grew less lucid by the passing hour, mostly the exhaustion sinking in, but Carmy didn't mind.
He just adjusted you both on the couch so he was laid out with you safely tucked between the cushions and his body. You had long since changed subjects; going from shitty work conditions to sports to your coursework load, then to The Beef, breezed over whatever Richie's daily attitude was about, then quietly debated if Carmy was taking the weekend off to spend it with you. Now, the TV was the only light on in the apartment, wine bottle empty, you resting on Carmy's chest; his arms tight around you, blanket tangled around your legs, both speaking quietly into the night before sleep claimed you both.
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmen carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x f!reader#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fic#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy the bear#hulu the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear#the bear x reader#the bear x you#the bear imagine#the bear fanfiction#the bear fanfic
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four dates to fall in love
part one. part two. part three. part four (here). part five. part six coming soon.
pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader
summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?
wc : 2.7k
cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn , not proofread, blood/knife ments (no injury, theyre just cooking lol), emotional vulnerability
a/n : welcome to part four. the slow burn is absolutely slowburning. things are happening. i dont have much to say other than it being hard for me to write, but pls let me know what you think!!!!!! likes and reblogs appreciated!
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“It went well?” Chan exclaimed in shock over your speakerphone.
You hum in agreement, confusion in the forefront of your mind, “Surprisingly, it went better than I could have ever imagined,” a sigh escapes you, “I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“Well, the fact he even apologized caught me off guard in the first place.”
You laugh lightly, “Oh, trust me, I still am having a hard time believing it. It’s been so long of him being an asshole to me, so seeing him like this was… very different. A little scary, if I’m being honest.”
“Yet it still went well even though it was kinda weird?”
“I mean, it was really awkward at the start which was annoying, but I can’t blame him. He genuinely did look like he felt bad, so it probably was hard to be in his position,” you think aloud, “But it was getting too much and he was putting a damper on the mood, so I tried to make him more comfortable, which worked. Then we started talking, and I don’t really know how to say it, but it felt… really nice? It made me realize that maybe I did miss our friendship.”
“Well, you guys did get along really well before everything happened. To be honest, I thought there was something more going on before then,” Chan recalls, “Though, his sudden change made me realize I was way off.”
Your eyebrows furrow at Chan’s comment, “Something more? Like romantic?”
He chuckles from the other end of the line, “Yeah, I thought something was going on between you two. You guys just seemed to click really well, better than any other costar you’ve had in the past, even to this day. Lowkey thought it was going to be a Tom Holland and Zendaya moment.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, “Definitely not that, I never thought of him that way.”
“You say that, but I remember the heart eyes you used to look at him with,” he teases.
“Oh, shut up. I did not. Besides, that’s not what’s important in the present time!”
He rolls his eyes, even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel it in his tone, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You’re right though, it is a difficult situation for both of you to be in. Other than it being uncomfortable, how are you feeling about it?”
You let out a heavy sigh, “I mean, part of me is happy to be able to have a normal relationship with him, but… I’m still really mad at him for how he treated me. I don’t think it’s something I can let go of yet.”
“That’s okay. You have time to process all of that, no one is rushing you.”
“I know, but for a moment yesterday, I kinda forgot about all that. I had fun with him, and I want to keep having fun, but then I remember everything and feel so… upset that I am even letting him back into my life, even if it's for a bit.”
“Huh…” Chan muddles over your words for a moment, “That is quite the dilemma. I think you have every right to be upset at him, but I also think it’s okay if you miss your friend. I just think you have to figure out what kind of boundaries you want to set for yourself then. I think you can still have a nice time with him without him earning your forgiveness just yet. He can be a surface level friend or acquaintance until he proves himself trustworthy again.”
“You’re right, but I just didn’t like how easily it slipped my mind. Part of me feels like I should still be more on guard and not as friendly, but he makes that hard too.”
“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” he reassures, “You’ll figure it out, but it’s perfectly fine for you to have fun, while still having boundaries, okay?”
You sigh, still a bit unconvinced by his words, “I guess…”
“I know it’s hard, I can’t imagine what it's like to be in your position, but I promise it will be okay.”
“I’ll believe you just this once!”
“You say that every time, but sure, just this once. Call you tomorrow, alright?”
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It was the next evening, and you were anxiously waiting in your apartment for Hyunjin to arrive. You weren’t sure how today was going to go, and the idea Changbin had for you both today made you nervous, as it felt as a far more intimate setting than the previous dates. Although, you couldn’t entirely argue with his logic. Today, he suggested that you both cooked a simple dinner with each other, the idea being that it would help you both learn how to work together towards a common goal, which was dinner in this case.
Despite you being able to understand the logic behind his idea, it was incredibly intimidating to think about having Hyunjin in your own home, especially considering the sudden change in dynamic in your relationship. Even then, you didn’t just let anyone into your home, as you only ever had your closest friends come over for small hang outs, so this was far outside of your comfort zone, but perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe going out of your comfort zone with Hyunjin would only help you both succeed the next time you found yourselves on set, and perhaps something as intimate as cooking together would help you both ease into your roles.
A knock on the door wakes you from your thoughts, prompting you to shuffle hurriedly towards the door to open it for none other than Hyunjin. He greets you with a gentle smile, bowing his head slightly as you let him in wordlessly. There is an awkwardness that hangs in the atmosphere, indicating that you both were uncomfortable with today’s plans and he, too, was likely struggling to find the right words to say.
You take a deep breath in, almost as if you were catching your breath, “Welcome to my place!” You cringe internally at yourself, unable to handle the intensity of the awkwardness between you two and how poor your attempt was to disperse it.
“It’s really nice!” he compliments, standing in place by the entrance after removing his shoes.
“Thank you,” you respond, “Uhm, just follow me, the kitchen is this way. And all the ingredients are ready for us to use, Changbin had them delivered.”
Hyunjin follows you into the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail around him, filling him with delight to see how characteristic of you the apartment was, it being a perfect representation of your personality. “What are we making again? I don’t think Changbin filled me in.”
“Oh, we’re just making curry udon! It’s something I’ve made before and it’s not too hard. My bad, I didn’t tell Changbin what we were making which is probably why he didn’t tell you. All I did was send him an ingredient list.”
“I forgot you like cooking,” he replies as he stops in your kitchen, quickly turning to the sink to wash his hands.
You hum in response, washing your hands after him, “I think it can be relaxing, but uh, if you want you can start with chopping the carrots and potatoes? I’ll handle the onion and garlic.” Hyunjin nods and follows your orders without much trouble, or so you think, until you turn around and see him holding the knife in a very precarious and questionable manner. Your eyes widen as you rush towards, “Oh my god, that is not how you should be trying to cut a potato. Have you not chopped a veggie in your entire life?”
He smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, “Listen, I don’t do this cooking thing often,” a gentle chuckle leaving him as he takes amusement in your concern, his heart thumping over the sudden proximity you both now shared.
“I-,” you sigh with a baffled expression, “Okay, let me just show you because I am not having you accidentally bleeding out all over my counter.”
“You’re more worried about your counters than me?”
“Shut up,” you suppress a laugh before softly whispering, “Here, just do it like this,” you reach over and lay your hands atop of his without second thought, guiding him on how to position his hands without the risk of injury. Once you’ve become aware of how your bodies are pressed up against each other from the side, you jump away in an instant, “That’s it! That’s all you gotta do.” You’re quick to avoid eye contact with him, turning towards your own cutting board as you chastise yourself for being so careless with him at that moment.
Hyunjin’s face and ears were soon dusted with a soft pink, heat rushing across his body over the interaction that seemed so natural, but manages to mutter out a quiet ‘thank you’ before trying his knife skills out once more. Despite your momentary embarrassment, you are sure to take sneaky peaks at Hyunjin to make sure he was handling himself well. You move on from chopping and turn your attention to seasoning the chicken while Hyunjin was still focused on the vegetables, going at a leisurely place which you much preferred in this case.
The rest of cooking goes on in silence aside from the occasional instruction or question, small witty jokes, and touches that seemed to linger more than necessary, but perhaps that was your imagination. Once everything was done, you both sat across from each other, admiring the fruits of your shared labor that was now plated in front of you both.
“It looks really good!” Hyunjin comments enthusiastically, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face.
“It does, right? Let’s eat!”
Neither you miss a beat, taking a huge bite of the udon noodles, letting out a delighted groan over just how flavorful the food was. “Woah,” Hyunjin groans out, surprise at how well tonight had gone thus far with the added victory of food, “Holy shit, this is so yummy.”
“Mhmm,” you mumble out between slurping noodles, “This is better than when I make it on my own.”
“It’s the Hyunjin special that you’ve been missing this whole time,” he says matter-of-factly with a smug smile.
“You’re being pretty bold for a guy who just learned how to hold a knife today,” you tease, playfully sticking your tongue out. Your eyes catch each other for a moment between your fits of giggles, time stopping for the briefest second possible before you both avert your eyes out of nerves. What was that? You thought frantically to yourself, suddenly hyper aware of the strange warmth in your stomach that was also accompanied with the feeling of your stomach dropping. It was an uncomfortable feeling, one you didn’t know how to explain or ever experienced before, but you did know you didn’t want that combination of symptoms again for whatever emotion this was. You clear your throat, taking a sip of water as if it would wash away the discomfort, “I guess we are pretty good, huh? Maybe our acting project has hope if we are able to work this well together,” you joke, a very poor, if not disastrous, attempt to alleviate the awkwardness that seemed to follow you everywhere these days.
Your words stab Hyunjin in the heart, the guilt he had once forgotten was knocking at the door of his heart, forcing itself in without his permission. His entire demeanor deflated the moment those words left your lips, his heart writhing at the reminder that the only reason this situation existed was because of him and his blinding stupidity. Yet, here you are, warmly inviting into your home and treating him as if he was an old friend of the past, as if he had never wounded you and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was deserving of any of this. He stood still, gulping down his food before faintly whispering a hushed apology.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head snaps back up, your eyebrows furrowing with worry once you sense the sadness lacing his trembling voice, his head now turned downwards as if he was trying to mask his state. Perhaps the joke was a little too soon, you thought, now it being your turn to feel bad. “Ah, Hyunjin, I’m sorry-” you apologize hurriedly, “It was just a joke, please don’t take it too seriously. I’m sorry.”
He forces a smile, waving his hand as if to tell you to not worry about it, the words at the forefront of his tongue, but caught in his throat due to the heaviness sinking in his chest. Once again, shame paralyzed his body, the warm sensation behind his eyes reminding him to blink, reminding him he shouldn’t be so selfish in his pain when he was the cause of so much discomfort. Was any of this okay? Was any of this right? He wonders to himself, still unable to find forgiveness within himself.
“Hyunjin,” you speak tenderly, your hand reaching across the table to touch his arm, grounding him back in the present, “I promise, it’s okay.” You knew that last bit was a lie, but it was for his own sake and comfort at this point. His treatment, his behavior, his attitude – none of it was ever okay, but you decided to ignore your own feelings and prioritize his. For the first time in two years, you cared about how he felt, you finally cared how your words harmed him, when before all you ever aimed for was a strike to his heart, but today, you chose to comfort his heart that your words unintentionally wounded. Although, your own heart and conscience briefly argued for a moment, one wanting to tend to his hurt, while the other demanded you let him rot in his misery, insisting he deserved it for what he had put you through. It was a tug-of-war you weren’t enjoying, you had almost wished you two remained in your heated hatred for one another and that nothing ever changed. Despite what your mind screamed at you, you chose to listen to your heart, you chose him over yourself.
He takes a deep breath in, trying to collect himself before speaking, “I just–,” a heavy exhale escapes him, “I’m just sorry. I just feel really, really, really bad for everything, but I also feel like I’m not allowed to feel bad when I was the one to hurt you.”
His eyes met yours, the glassiness of his eyes conveying the depth of his guilt, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you whisper apologetically, “Listen, I won’t lie to you, what you did was shitty. You did hurt me, but that is in the past. You feeling bad about it means you’re a good person, right? It means you’re human and that you care, but I don’t want you to let your guilt overwhelm you either.”
It was a genuine response in a moment of sudden vulnerability, your response taking him aback, but the words temporarily placating his never ending thoughts, “I guess, but… I don’t know if I can forgive myself,” he mumbles.
“You don’t have to yet, but you can learn to eventually,” you reply, “I understand it’s hard, and even I still need more time to do that myself, but I do think you deserve to be kind to yourself.” None of that was a lie, you did truly believe he was deserving of his own compassion, but his culpability helped you see the humanity in him. The spitefulness you once knew him for nowhere to be found, but instead there was only a guilt-ridden man who carried a world of humiliation. “I think I can learn to do so soon, too. Spending time with you helps. Besides, I did miss being friends with you if I’m being honest.”
The last sentence causes him to perk up, a small, satisfied smile playing onto your lips, “Really?” he asks, his ears barely believing your words, but his heart was swelling with hope. His eyes search yours, he can’t help but notice how they glimmer under the soft lowlights of your home, and for some reason, he finds warmth and comfort in them. He knows he can trust you, he knows you are being as candor as possible.
“Really, I mean it.”
“I missed it too.”
“Well, I’ll do my best to learn to trust you again. I’ll learn to forgive you eventually, just for now, it still hurts.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll learn too.”
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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures @sleepyxxhead @pinkpunkdynamite @kaiyaba taglist cut off at 20 people :)
#cinnamostar writes#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz fanfic#skz scenarios#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids scenarios#stray kids x you#hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#hwang hyunjin fanfic#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin#stray kids#stray kids fanfic#hyunjin fic#hyunjin imagines#skz slowburn
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When in Doubt, Blame Damian | Jason x Reader
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷
Pairing: Jason Todd x GN! Reader
WC: 928
CW: Swearing, over thinking. It’s mostly kinda fluffy. No use of Y/N.
Author's Note: I got this idea while giving my dog a bath sooo here you go idk lol hope you like it🖤
Summary: You get a dog!! … but you didn’t tell Jason.
Not my picture
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You blamed Damian.
You normally blame Damian for a lot. More than you're willing to admit, sometimes for stuff he wasn't even involved in.
But this time you think it's actually his fault.
How could you not blame him? If he hadn't asked for a ride to the pet store. If he didn't insist that Titus absolutely needed a new friend. If he never put that little puppy in your arms basically forcing you to fall in love with the little baby that was giving you kisses, then you wouldn't be here right now.
You wouldn't be in yours and your boyfriend's apartment trying to figure out how to tell said boyfriend that you guys now had a dog.
Would Jason be mad? Honestly? You didn't know. The topic of getting a dog or a cat has came up a few times.
He would usually say things like ‘Maybe’ or ‘Now's just probably not a good time’ it was never a definite yes or no.
So maybe it wouldn't be that bad, you thought to yourself trying to give yourself some confidence.
I mean it was your apartment too. You contributed. And it would feel nice to have something to keep you company while Jason was on patrol or had to go somewhere for a while.
You'd hyped yourself up at this point you had some good arguments lined up for why it was a good idea.
You felt confident about your choice, especially when you looked down at the little puppy sleeping peacefully in his bed that was in your shared bedroom. You got this, you told yourself and you really believed that. You genuinely did.
That was until you heard the front door unlock.
You rush out the room, closing the door softly trying not to wake up the puppy.
You walked into the living room to greet Jason who was out all morning and most of the afternoon training with Dick, Cass and Duke.
“Hey Jay.” You say giving him a soft kiss.
“Hi my love. How was your day?”
Jason says, giving you a tight hug, holding you for a moment.
“Umm it was you know. It was fine. Hung out with Dames. Nothing crazy you know? How about you?”
You rambled pulling away from Jason trying not to sound suspicious while walking to the couch in the living room.
Jason gives you a questioning look but ends up just dropping it and following you to the couch.
“It was fine. Just the normal shit. I missed you though.”
Jay pulls you into him while giving you a kiss on your head. You feel kinda guilty at this point.
You don't like keeping things from Jason. He has a lot of trust issues so it was important that you guys had a lot of honesty and communication in your relationship.
You pull away from Jason and look at him, giving him a slightly guilty look.
“Jay, I have something to tell you. Don't be mad.”
“Did something happen when you were out with the Demon Spawn? Did he do something? What did he say? I'm gonna kick that little brats ass.”
Jason runs his hand through his hair already mad at Damian for whatever Jason thinks he did.
“Jay calm down Dames didn't technically do anything. I did something, and before you get mad-”
You were interrupted when you heard a puppy bark and a slight clawing sound at the bedroom door and judging by Jasons face he also heard it.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
You give a little chuckle, now trying to play it off. Hoping that this isn't how Jason finds out but knowing that it is.
“Babe Is there a dog here?”
“Um technically..? Yes?”
Jason sighs and gets up to the bedroom and opens the door letting the dog run up to you as he tries to climb up on you. You pick him up, putting him on your lap while he starts playing with your hand.
“Babe, who’s dog is that?”
“Umm… Ours?”
“When did we get a dog?”
Jason says wide eyed and raises his eyebrows at you.
“It's all Damian's fault! He told me how lonely Titus gets sometimes and I felt bad and just look at how cute he is!”
You try to explain picking the dog up so Jason can look at him.
“Don't be mad jay..”
You say putting the puppy on the floor so he can run around a little all while you look extremely guilty.
“Mad? Why would I be mad? Wait baby, is this what you were trying to tell me?”
Jason says sitting next to you on the couch while looking at you concerned.
“Yes… I felt bad making a choice like that without you and I know how you don't like it when people hide stuff from you and I just don't want to make you mad.”
“Baby, I'm not mad. I'm not thrilled that you got a dog without me, especially because it was with the Demon Spawn. But I'm not mad.”
Jason says pulling you into him kissing the top of your head.
“You're not mad? Really?”
“I can't be mad at you baby. You mean everything to me.”
Jason says while the puppy runs up to you guys laying down at your feet.
“I'm still sorry Jay.”
“I know you are, baby. It's okay, promise. Now what's this little guy's name?”
Jason says picking up the puppy and looking at his face while you smile at them.
Maybe you shouldn't blame Damian… this time.
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#jason todd x reader#jasontodd#jason todd#red hood x reader#redhood#red hood#batfam#x reader#dcu x reader#dcu#dc comics#dick grayson#damian wayne#cassandra cain#duke thomas#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#tim drake#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#nightwing#robin#black bat#signal#spoiler#oracle#red robin#batman#dog
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Hello :3 Can I get a long scenario with my dearest Jamil?
I really love him so much >///< so here is my scenario, I hope you can accept
Jamil got sick and has a fever. MC stayed beside him and nursed him for 3 days without blinking and finally he recovered. He started to remember her care during his illness after his fever dropped. And when he woke up, MC hugged him tightly. A bit long, huh? 😅 I would be happy with little NSFW, not gonna lie.
Well hello there, fellow Jamil enthusiast~ It has certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? It is my utmost pleasure to present you with the *long-awaited* scenario at hand! A bit of NSFW, some heart-warming fluff and Jamil finally getting a GODDAMN break, coming right up! It's not full on NSFW, just a lil bit, as requested, I don't know why it turned out like that- still, I hope this is good! (Tbh, it fits the scenario)
P.S. This hit close to home, I used to be a very sickly child and I still catch all sorta sicknesses a lot easier than normal people. So, what he will experience here is all based on very PERSONAL and very SALTY experience. 🙃
"What am I gonna do with you? You can't keep pushing yourself so much!" You murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Jamil's forehead as he slept soundly.
.......
Jamil hated being sick. Pretty normal right? Everybody hates being sick.
But to Jamil, sickness meant pushing through and continuing with his chores, regardless of his wellbeing. Imagine cooking above a hot stove with a high temperature. Can't be pleasant, can it?
But even the hardest stones could crack under enough force - such is the way the world works. It was towards the end of the day, as Jamil was preparing Kalim's dinner, when he felt his body give out under him. All day he'd been going around with a fever, he felt as if his own body was rotting on the inside, screaming at him to stop and have a break. His eyes were watery and felt as though they were burning in his eye sockets.
He couldn't even reach a chair to sit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor - too dizzy and too weak. Rarely did he ever get this sick, but this time it was bad. He moved to a more comfortable position and remained like that, trying to gather enough strength to get some medicine..... He most certainly didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, too tired to move, nor did he hear Kalim's worried voice when he found him on the floor in the kitchen.
And Kalim? Kalim was terrified! Quickly he called on his dorm members to move him to his room and immediately called you, crying on the phone, worried that Jamil might never wake up. (That's not how colds work, Kalim-) Worried about Jamil, you immediately rushed to the Scarabia dorm, medicine in hand.
_____________
And now here you are, in the present, taking extensive care of your near delirious not-quite-boyfriend-but-kinda-love-interest. He'd occasionally wake up and exchange barely audible pleasantries with you, drink his "extra healthy and full of good stuff" chicken soup (whatever that was supposed to entail) and then fall back into slumber. His fever has gone down drastically, but the utter exhaustion left in its wake has kept him bedridden. Apparently it was a seasonal fever, which just so happened to hit Jamil, who in turn chose to ignore it in the beginning.
You'd taken the liberty to remain situated in his room for about three days.
Day one was the worst - high fever, clattering teeth and a sleepless night to boot. You'd change his shirt every time he'd drench it in sweat whilst fighting off the fever. You'd switch up the cloth every time it lost its cooling effect, you'd remained by his side the entire time, least he needed something anything at all.
"Once you get better, I'm so gonna yell at you for not taking better care of yourself.... You're lucky I love you." You'd mumbled, barely audible in the quiet of the room as he slept.
Day two was better - he slept through most of it and you could in turn prepare some soup, as well as cover most of his chores, get a pass from the teachers AND even leave him some of your notes for when he recovers. (Look at you go! He'd better propose imo)
Now, on day three he was evidently much healthier. Finally he gave up trying to get out of bed, and instead lay resting, drinking his medicine, feeling utterly pampered by you.
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"How long have you...been here?" You seemed pretty tired in his eyes. The moment you heard his voice you immediately threw yourself gently on him, gently crushing his bones in a hug.
"A while." You responded, face buried in his chest. In reality, you hadn't had a proper night of sleep in about 3 days. You DID sleep, Kalim even prepared a guest bedroom, but you chose to remain next to Jamil for most of the time. "Do you know how worried I was?"
"You didn't have to do all this, you know? You could've get sick too."
"I could've, but I haven't. For somebody with such a keen eye and monstrous deliberation, you really don't know how to take care of yourself properly." You quipped back, moving to sit on the bed next to him.
"As, so I'm being reprimanded now." His gaze softened. "Thank you....for taking care of me these last few days... I've forgotten what it's like to not have to worry or do anything... I feel like I've slept a lifetime... I don't know how I could possibly return the favour."
You can't stay mad at him. He knows it, you know it. Hell, even the Great Seven know it.
"Return it by recovering completely."
He chose not to continue the conversation. He knew arguing was pointless.
"You know, while I was sleeping, or trying to, I was mostly aware of what was happening around me." He began, pushing himself up, in a sitting position. "When you'd quietly hum to yourself, or cuss when you couldn't find something..."
"Ah- well, did you now? Sorry if you had a difficult time falling asleep because of me. " you felt your cheeks warm up a bit.
"No no, please. It's fine. You've taken such good care of me. I just... couldn't help but hear something, which perhaps I wasn't meant to."
He reached out, tangling his hand in your hair.
"Something about you loving me?"
...
Nope, all that heat in your cheeks? Gone. Now it was just coldness and dread.
He saw your frazzled state and chuckled. "I guess I'm really lucky, to have you to take *such* good care of me, huh."
He leaned in, but stopped just centimetres away.
"I shouldn't."
You heart dropped even lower, if that was even possible.
"I could get you sick.~" There was a lilt to his voice, but his eyes showed concern.
"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you leaned in, smashing your lips onto his. He smiled into the kiss, pulling you towards him.
Naturally, you moved to sit in his lap, his hands moving to your waist.
"Your feelings are returned, for the record." He mumbled in between heated kisses. The more heated the kisses became, the more his hands would wander until-
In the blink of an eye, he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him. Skillfully he unbuttoned the first few buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your neck and collarbones. "I think I have a way of returning the favour. You took such good care of me, I think it's my turn~"
His attention moved to your neck, leaving heated languid kisses and playful bites on your skin. His hand trailed down to spread your legs, moving between them. Every single touch of his was intoxicating. Pretty quickly your shirt was thrown on the floor, the supple flesh underneath - covered in hickeys.
"Are you not going to undress as well? Or should I do that for you?" you asked, breathless, yet teasing in manner. Well. As teasing as one could get, given how achingly turned on you were. "Like you didn't have more than enough time to appreciate the view, during these last few days." he teased right back, but his hands moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
"I've wanted to do this for a long time." He practically purred, fingers gliding over your stomach, gently trailing lower and lower.
"Of course, you can tell me to stop anytime."
"I don't want you to."
"As you wish, my dear. Then I'll make sure to indulge, taking, tasting, touching every single part of you. "
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x mc#twst imagines#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland jamil#jamil viper#twst jamil#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#jamil viper x mc#jamil viper x y/n#jamil viper x yuu#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x yuu#twst smut#jamil smut#twisted wonderland smut#jamil twst smut#jamil viper smut#minors dni
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Could you do anything where you prompt pony to quit smoking, maybe by telling him you don’t like smokers or anything like that? Ty!
spearmint gum ꨄ︎
ponyboy curtis x reader
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
this was initially gonna be like a tiny drabble but ended up being a whole thing soooo either way.. hope you enjoy 💕 :)
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
mentions of ponyboy smoking and being a heavy smoker, mentions of a guy cheating on his girlfriend, refers to the reader as the barbie to pony’s ken, reader has fem friends, pony being kinda obsessive?? and also eavesdropping on you and your friends’ chisme
✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ
1152 words, 6321 characters
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
the hall was cluttered with students as they rushed past pony to get to their next class, bumping into him and practically knocking him over with his smaller frame.
through the midst of children, ponyboy spotted your familiar head of hair as you walked with your friends to class.
seeing you was pony’s highlight of the day, you were like the barbie to his ken. even just a glance in his direction could make him swoon. he never had the balls to talk to you—so he settled with admiring from afar.
once ponyboy had made it into class, after almost being suffocated and having to force his way through the plethora of kids in the cramped halls, his eyes immediately darted around the room, looking for you.
and there you were.
pony wondered if you were a dream come true. he patted himself on the back in whatever past lives he’s lived to get an angel like you, and he thanked whoever put you on this earth as it allowed it endless opportunities. especially with the fact that you’re in his class not even five feet away from him.
so what if it was cheesy? at least it was true to pony.
there was a short intermission before the ending bell rang, the bell that prompted everybody to take a seat to avoid demerits for tardiness.
you were at your desk, your friends circling you. pony wondered what you guys talked about that you’d be laughing so much, but he didn’t mind, because he got to see that smile of yours.
it was like a fresh breath of air or a warm blanket that smelled of floral detergent. your smile was so contagious that it almost made pony want to smile as well, forcing him to look away before he’s caught with the embarrassing redness of his cheeks.
he looked up at the blackboard, reading a set of instructions that his teacher had set up while she was away. his eyes scanned the neat chalky white letters that faded the more they shifted to the right, the second direction to grab a textbook.
pony’s eyes trailed off to the left, where you stood right in front of the tiny corner which held the textbooks, the old worn down shelf practically about to collapse with the weight of them.
he took a deep breath, puffing his chest out a little as he held his inhale before swiftly exhaling. it was like a comical white cloud of air flew past his mouth as he sighed, like those characters on tv who made it through near death experiences.
ponyboy made his way over to the wooden shelf, striding at first in an attempt to seem unbothered. why should he this nervous around you? it’s just a simple task, grab a textbook and bring it back to your table.
c’mon pony, he told himself.
the walk there felt agonizingly long, leaving him with enough time to question his every move. did he always breathe like this? oh gosh, did he breathe loud? was he walking funny? was he sweating?
but then suddenly, a sweet ripple of laughter danced its way out your throat and left your lips, your head slightly tilting back as the euphoric sound reached pony’s ears. and boy, did all pony’s worries melt away.
once he had reached the books, he grabbed two for him and his desk partner. however, pony couldn’t help but perk up at the sound of you and your friends whispering. he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he swears. but once he heard a couple of boys’ name, it’s like his ears enlarged along with his nosiness.
“what about,” your friend said as she dragged out the ‘t’ while she thought, “jamie? he’s pretty good lookin’. has a nice corvair, too.” she said with raised eyebrows to which you rolled your eyes.
“jamie’s rank, all he does is cheat, steal, and have you ever smelled him? he reeks of booze.”
pony noticed how your friends looked at you as if you were crazy. but to be fair, jamie brockton did stink. pony’s locker was right next to his, and he practically gagged every time he got a whiff of him with how strong the scent of alcohol and sweat was. pony wondered if he ever wore deodorant.
“samuel’s pretty cute, though.” your other friend pointedly nodded her head in the other boy’s direction while yours—and pony’s—eyes followed her gaze, falling on a husky guy with sandy brown hair and a cigarette arrogantly hanging out of his mouth.
“he’s a smoker.”
“he’s cute.”
“i’m not into smokers, lorraine.” you stated and pony started thinking. slowly, the worries started sleeping into the crooks of his brain again. pony smoked more heavily than any of his brothers despite only being fourteen. he wondered. did he smell like cigarettes?
then another thought came into mind.
how long had he been standing here? textbooks clutched in his arms as he eavesdropped on you and your friends. it was weird. so awkwardly, ponyboy slinked away back to his desk and slumped in his seat as his foot tapped against the floor, creating ‘clack!’ sounds as his sneakers connected with the tile.
he pondered as he sat in his seat, before turning behind him as his eyes met the girls gossiping behind him too.
“y’got any gum on you?” he sheepishly asked, before the girl shot him a quick smile and reached inside her backpack.
score, pony thought as she handed him a stick of gum, neatly foiled in silver paper. he gave her a quiet ‘thanks’ as he turned around and popped the spearmint stick into his mouth, crumpling the foil and stuffing it into his pocket once the bell rang.
his partner took a break from sucking face with his girlfriend rushed to his seat, disheveled and red faces. but pony spared him no mind, only focused on the gum that exploded its minty flavor within his mouth. ponyboy narrowed his eyes as it burned his tongue and throat, but quickly reveled in the feeling of having a clean minty fresh inhale. and it’d be worth it in the long run, you know? maybe he’d actually have a shot with you.
pony didn’t throw that gum out until he got home, considering it was sixth period when that new information was unlocked. he was concentrated with chewing the gum, his mind replaying your words back in his head.
“i’m not into smokers, lorraine.”
you sounded annoyed at the fact that every time you were in class with them, they tried to play cupid with every single guy that walked through the door. grossly, even mr. jefferson, the assistant principal.
pony read somewhere that it takes twenty-one days to break a habit, and he would gladly spend twenty-one days with sticks of gum if it meant he had a shot with you.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ whys pony such a cutie patootie tho
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders#fanfiction#x reader#ponyboy blurb#ponyboy curtis x reader#ponyboy curtis#ponyboy the outsiders#ponyboy x reader#i heart ponyboy#ponyboy is bae#ambrozjas#kiss kiss
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James Hook x gn!Bill Cipher!reader :D
I don't know if you understand the character I'm referring to, but it would be a reader with the powers of Bill Cipher and the same sadistic and carefree attitude that caught Hook's attention
xoxo ᰔᩚ
okay I can definitely try, but I can't promise this is good. I haven't watched gravity falls since like elementary school and I wasn't even that much of a fan so I had to use a lot of Google, so sorry if this is ooc ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I saw that he has immortality so I wanted to play on that a bit bc music influenced me to do it lol ; also this essentially has no plot and is just some dumb rambling
JAMES HOOK ; cipher
summary ; a post-bridget going evil apocalypse au thing where you're super op, somehow died, and are now sifting up a plan with hook
warnings ; language, death, blood, kinda gore (?), stitching together body parts, reader is kind of a sociopath
disclaimers ; set post-bridget turning into QOH, aka the timeline where red and chloe didn't go back (completely just a oneshot this isn't what I think entirely happened)
word count ; 1.1k
masterlist
You had died at the hands of Bridget, now the Queen of Hearts, a tyrant.
She took control of Wonderland, and nearly all of what what would eventually become Auradon.
Bridget's happy-go-lucky personality and princess pink aesthetic had mutated. She'd turned only into the Queen of Hearts, a woman barely even out of her teenage years, angry and cruel, her signature pink becoming red. Everything red. No more happiness or joy. She wouldn't be the laughing stock now.
She beheaded you just as quickly as she'd gotten her hands on you. Her year-long reign above Wonderland commanding her Queen.
Your friends had gone into hiding, now realizing what they'd created. A tyrant, a murderous monster.
But, she'd forgotten that you were immortal, among many things.
Yes, you were essentially dead for days, your friends having been carrying around your body, waiting and waiting for you to snap back to reality. Maleficent had stitched your head back to your body, knowing your regeneration took a hell of a long time.
Immortality was like Klaus Hargreeves, something you hadn't mastered. You had to walk the terrains of whatever middle world existed between Heaven and Hell, the Devil and God themselves rejecting you for all eternity.
Outside Merlin's Academy rained soldiers from maroon clouds.
They lay dead flowers for the torn apart, you, at your feet, knowing one of these days you'd wake up. One of them you would. They'd just have to hope. You could end this.
Maleficent stands before you, spellbook in hand. Hook, Morgie, Uliana and Hades stand behind her, watching closely.
"Let it rain until it floods, let the sun breathe life once more, reborn. Dead flowers for the torn apart, laid at the grave to heal a broken heart"
The group stands silent, waiting for anything to happen. Then, the stitches melt into your skin, fusing your body together. You gasp, awakening suddenly, choking up blood and air. James rushes to your aid, hand on your shoulder, trying to help you breathe.
Maleficent shuts her book, stuffing it in her bag.
As you regain your voice, thankfully rather quickly, you look up at your friends.
"How long was I dead?"
Hades looks across the other's faces before answering. "Over a month."
Your jaw slacks, looking to the others for confirmation, which you receive. You'd never been dead that long. But then again, you'd never been beheaded. It'd only felt like an hour or two for your soul.
"You know who did this to you, right?" Uliana asks you.
You nod.
"Together, we can force her back down into Wonderland. We can not let her take over everything."
"Give me a few days. That sounded cringe as fuck" You groan, cracking your bones. "Plus, the magic doesn't work if I'm still practically dead"
"I've got frozen waffles-"
"Get a toaster. And a couple more boxes of those"
"On it!"
"Couldn't you just rewrite the laws of the universe or something?"
You sigh, "It doesn't work like that. If I do that, it'll screw us all over, not just Bridget. If you want me to laser her head off or something, I can, but I'm not gonna get myself killed again or any of you for that matter."
James softly smiles beside you, his eyes locked to the ground. "You can shapeshift, right?"
You nod. "Must I go over everything I can do? I'm not a master at anything, but..."
James nods.
"Uhm..." You count on your fingers as you list your abilities. "Regeneration, takes a long time when it's major. Reality warping, telekinesis, strength, dream manipulation, durability, immortality, time manipulation, range, speed, duplication, invisibility, intelligence, laser eyes, omnipresence, shapeshifting, soul removal, and stamina."
Your friends share awkward stares, slowly looking back at you.
"Look," You continue. "I doubt I'm the first person she wants to see. I tortured her the most out of all of us, I practically killed her over and over again for enjoyment, which is kind of sick, but it's funny"
Hades blinks. "Not very funny now that she's trying to take over the world"
Maleficent slaps his arm, hushing him.
"Anyways," you continue. "This is my battle. I'm not letting you guys die, nor am I sitting back to watch it happen. This is between me and her. I will cut her head off over and over until the end of time if I have to."
James shares a look with you, quickly placing himself on board with whatever your plan would be. Uliana, Morgie, Maleficent, and Hades decide to listen to you, not wanting to die. They retreat to their hideout in the academy, wishing you luck.
You turn back to look at James, silently questioning why he was still here.
"Do you have a plan?" He asks.
You shrug. "Go with the flow, I guess"
He nods slowly. "Where are we going?"
"Closer to Wonderland, I guess. I'd expect her to be locked up in her ugly castle"
"Wait, couldn't you reverse time-"
"I'd reverse it back to the day you were born and kill you before you got to exist if I tried."
Over the past few days, Hook had one hundred percent grown more infatuated with you. He already had been before, hypnotized by your power and personality. He wished he could have you.
Realistically, it would never happen. You were trillions of years old, stuck inside a teenage body.
You sit beside a fire, warming your hands, the pirate at your side.
"Why did you stay with me?" You ask out of the blue. "You could die"
He shrugs. "I'd willingly die by your side if it meant I'd be helping you. I'd do anything for you"
You furrow your eyebrows. "You sound like your brain became mush under a love spell"
He chuckles. "No. I'm infatuated with you. Really. Might as well know before I probably die"
"Huh?"
"You're actually so smart, and powerful, and sadistic, but it's so likable. Something draws me to you, more than any treasure could. Like, I genuinely see the stars in your eyes like they're every memory you've ever had. You're literally a God and I'm just some pirate"
"You're not just some pirate, you're the captain of the seas. That's a hard accomplishment" You reply. "Give yourself some credit"
He sighs. "I need you. I need you to not die to take Bridget down. So don't. She doesn't even have any serious magic, she has strength and no morality, which... you do too, but my point is, don't let her properly kill you again. Because if this ever ends, I want to spend every moment with you until I die"
You blink, slightly surprised at his ramblings.
"I couldn't live a few decades with you to live trillions more without you, James." You whisper, gaze locked onto the flame in front of you.
"That's fine," he replies.
You look to him, knowing he wasn't finished talking. He always had another word to say.
"Just please don't leave me. If you die again, I can't save you this time."
#lowkeyrobin#gn reader#gender neutral reader#they/them reader#descendants x reader#descendants x gn reader#james hook x reader#hook x reader#joshua colley x reader#rise of red x reader#descendants rise of red x reader
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mango dragon refresher - quinn hughes
notes: this is part of @wyattjohnston's summer exchange fic, and written for the lovely @lam-ila! i'm horrible at writing angst with happy ending, but i felt inspired to write something like this for quinn!! i really hope you like it <33
warnings: accidents, injuries, angst with happy ending, kinda hurt/comfort
gif not mine!
in hindsight, driving with a broken tail light wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve made.
your mother had taught you years ago that everything you learn when it comes to driving was meant to be applied whenever you were behind the wheel, for the rest of your life. and for years, you’d taken her words to heart, never once stepping out of line.
but you were hungry, and out of milk, and you’d already taken the cereal out into your bowl, and quinn had taken the working car to practice.
you didn’t think it was going to be a big deal, especially since the grocery store was less than five minutes away. besides, you saw people driving with things worse than broken tail lights all the time. how bad could it be?
convincing yourself it was no big deal, you got in your car and headed off to the store. you’d made it there fine, not even a scratch. but on your way back, the car in front of you slammed on their brakes suddenly. you’d stopped as well, just in time to avoid ramming into the rear bumper.
but with your tail light broken, the car behind you had nearly no warning as he drove into you. you felt it all happen in two times speed: your head hitting the steering, hard, as cars around you honked their horns and manoeuvred away from the crash.
i guess this is why they say mother always knows best, you thought drowsily, the world going dark around you.
-
quinn was feeding his teammates pucks when the assistant coach, nolan, called him over.
he’d been in a serious conversation with one of the trainers for a few minutes, before he motioned for quinn to come over.
“ooh, hughesy’s in trouble,” some of the guys snickered, messing with him.
quinn rolled his eyes as he held back a laugh, nodding at nolan and the trainer. the trainer nodded back, before rushing away quickly.
quinn didn’t think much of it — the trainers always had lots of work to do.
“what’s going on?” he asked.
nolan motioned over his shoulder, “let’s go talk about it, c’mon.”
now quinn began to worry, almost as if he really was in trouble. during the short walk to his office, a hundred different thoughts flew around quinn’s brain — yet, not one of them explained why he might be in trouble.
i’m a full-grown adult, quinn thought to himself. how the hell am i going to be in trouble? what would i even be in trouble for?
as nolan motioned for him to take a seat, quinn’s thoughts took another direction. he thought of bo horvat, and how he’d been given some terrible news in the very same way.
“wait, am i getting traded?” he asked suddenly.
nolan’s eyes widened, “no, no. we’re not trading you, that’s not why you’re here.”
“then why am i here?” quinn asked. “is there — is it something bad? did i mess up?”
nolan looked resigned, as if the last thing he wanted to do was sit here and tell quinn… whatever it was he wanted to say. but he took a deep breath and forced it out.
“it’s y/n,” he said finally. “your fiancée. she’s been involved in a car accident and has been admitted to the hospital.”
the world seemed to stop for quinn.
y/n, in a car accident.
he didn’t believe it. you were the safest driver he ever met, there was no way you could be involved in a — the broken tail light, he realized suddenly.
for some reason, you must’ve taken the car and went out to do something, either forgetting about or dismissing the broken tail light.
quinn internally began to curse himself.
he should’ve woken up half an hour earlier and carpooled with elias when his teammate had asked. that way there’d have been a working car at home, and you wouldn’t have been in the hospital.
“quinn?” nolan asked hesitantly, snapping him out of his spiral. “are you okay?”
“where — which hospital is she in?” he got up. “i want to go see her, i’m leaving to go see her.”
nolan stopped him by placing a hand on his arm, “i’ll drive you. you’re in no state to be operating a vehicle. go get changed, and we’ll head out to see her.”
quinn wanted to argue, to tell him to take him right now, but he saw the determined look in nolan’s eyes. quinn knew him long enough to know there would be no arguing with him.
he rushed off to the locker room, changing in record time, before meeting nolan in his car.
“let’s go,” nolan said, driving quinn.
the car ride was tense, with quinn stuck between wanting to ask nolan more information, and at the same time not wanting to know anything and just hope for the best.
his brain compromised by thinking of the worst scenarios imaginable.
“breathe,” nolan said as they arrived at a red light. “she’s gonna be fine, you just need to calm down.”
quinn took a deep breath, resisting the urge to snap at nolan. you wouldn’t want him to get mad at someone who’s only trying to help.
nolan took a right, arriving at the hospital entrance.
“head on up,” nolan told him. “i’ll park and come.”
quinn didn’t need to be told twice, as he bolted out of the car and towards one of the receptionists.
“my fiancée,” he rushed out. “she was — she was just brought in here because of a car accident. y/n, y/n y/ln.”
“one second,” the receptionist said, searching through her files. “you’re her emergency contact. quinn hughes, correct?”
“that’s me,” he nodded.
the receptionist nodded, “she’s in the emergency room, currently being operated on. she needs stitches, and is being checked for a dislocated shoulder.”
quinn’s heart felt like it would stop in his chest.
“where — where is she?” he stuttered.
the receptionist gave him a look of sympathy, pointing him towards the direction of the room. quinn ran down the halls, coming to a halt outside the room.
on the other side of those doors, you were in pain. you might’ve been under anaesthesia, but after everything, quinn didn’t want to think of you being in pain.
doctors, nurses, patients, and even visitors walked around him. for once, no one was asking for an autograph — only giving him looks of sympathy.
-
“mango dragon fruit refresher for quinn!” the staff called out.
quinn walked numbly to the counter, taking the drink, before heading upstairs. in his other hand, he held his own coffee — which is pretty much what he’d been living off for the past day.
there were three or four mango dragon refreshers in your room, melted or in the trash. quinn bought one for you each time he went to get his coffee, just in case you were waiting for him.
the accident itself was quite bad, to the point where the doctors were saying it was lucky that you didn’t sustain any long-term injuries.
from what quinn had been told, you were suffering from a minor concussion, needed six stitches across your forehead, needed twelve stitches on your hand, and had dislocated your left shoulder.
the stitches would come out eventually, and the concussion would be fine within a few weeks. but your shoulder would need to remain in a sling for three to four weeks, and you’d be needing physiotherapy afterwards.
quinn was just waiting for you to wake up.
you’d been out for over twenty-four hours, quinn not leaving your side except to get your drinks. nolan had brought him some food, which was in a bag in the corner of your room. he just wasn’t hungry.
quinn entered your room silently, mango dragon refresher in hand as he tried not to disturb you.
“is that for me?” your voice caused him to startle.
quinn turned towards you, seeing you awake and sitting up in the hospital bed. words failed him as he stared at you, trying to force something — anything coherent — out of his mouth.
“you — you’re — are you—”
“hi,” you gave him a tired smile, patting at your bedside.
quinn was there immediately.
“you’re awake,” he whispered, hesitantly reaching out for you.
“and you look like you haven’t slept in days,” you responded, taking his hand in yours. you leaned into his touch, savouring the feeling of him next to you. “are you sure you’re okay?”
quinn stared at you, shaking his head to himself in disbelief. “you’re the one in the hospital bed, and you’re asking if i’m okay? i should be asking you that!”
“i’m fine,” you answered. “a little battered, but i’m alright. you on the other hand, you look like you’ve been through hell.”
quinn rolled his eyes, but it was true. he felt like it too. sitting by your side, all night, not knowing when you were going to wake up — it drove him crazy.
“i’m just glad you’re okay,” quinn choked up, pressing a kiss to your intertwined hands.
he’d spent the last day thinking of the worst possibilities, torturing himself. seeing you here, smiling and happy, it made him realize that he couldn’t lose you.
you smiled, leaning forward to place your forehead against his.
“me too,” you whispered.
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