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deunmiu-dessie · 3 months ago

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𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : in the year 3020, androids of all types are being produced globally. cybernautic technologies (cnt), the leading company in the field, is offering anyone who has bought an android from them the opportunity to be selected as a beta tester for any of their upcoming models at no cost—all you have to do is sign up. while the odds of being chosen are quite low, when cnt has revealed the imminent launch of their latest android, named 'the guard dog.' you arrive home to a large, heavy package bearing the cybernautic technologies logo waiting at your doorstep.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT�� THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:16 PM.

“hello, welcome to the prospect, i’ll be your server for today.”

“will that be all?”

“thank you for dining here at the prospect!”

“what would you like to drink tonight?”

“would you prefer soup or salad?”

“will you be paying in credits?”

“it seems you're low on mexus currency, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“here at the prospect, everything is cooked and served by humans.”

“enjoy the rest of your stay here in felicity port.”

⸺⸺⸺⸺ ☙ ⸺⸺⸺⸺

everything slipped by in a haze, a blur of muted colors and indistinct sounds, as if the world outside had faded into a dreamlike state; and you don't remember eating at all today. the gnawing emptiness in your belly screaming for attention is testament to that, your body desperately trying to consume itself whole in mutiny. your fingers glide over the soft fat of your stomach, a tender caress meant to placate the piercing pains and the grumbling whale noises. however, it continues its revolt and doubles its efforts.

as a matter of fact, you couldn't remember if you’d even gone home the day prior or stayed to work through your off hours into this shift. because the moment you clocked in, time seemed nonexistent. hours evaporated into mere moments, while seconds stretched into agonizing eternities, voices overlapped and the heat of the kitchen crept underneath skin and charred bones, words pierced hearts and knives nicked flesh. claret hued blood confused with strawberry puree.

there was no concept of time here at the prospect. you realized that a month into working. after weeks and weeks of grueling work, where each day bled into the next, a nightmarish cycle of labor that left you retching and gasping for air every single time you came home, time seemed to warp and stretch. it felt as if the second you crossed the threshold of your home, you were heading back to work, with barely enough time to brush the smell of puke from your breath. and for the entire bleak month of feburary, you found yourself ensnared in a twisted romance with your bathroom toilet; a tall glass of orange juice- your only companion in this grim affair.

and because there was never a point when the restaurant was empty, there was never a moment when the workers could break. never a moment to catch your breath, to declutter your mind, to steady your heart, never a time to think. thoughts raced like the orders flying out of the kitchen; contemplation was a luxury they could not afford. adapt or face the door—those were the unspoken rules. amy, one of the general managers, often said, “you can rest when you’re six feet under.” ironically, her break arrived just a few months later.

the prospect stood as a rare sanctuary in a world dominated by machines, and was one of the few places that hired humans and humans only. a coveted position here came with a lengthy waiting list, despite the shit wages which barely compensated for the grueling labor. so there was no way you would leave, no way you could quit. besides, it wasn't all bad— it was quite the close-knit family here, and working could be fun most days with the right manager scheduled. and the perks were good enough. you needed the money.

“chica? you leavin’?”

your head swivels tiredly in the direction of the smooth, rich voice of your co-worker nina, her long dark tresses are pulled into a low ponytail, and the familiar piercings that embellish her spheroidal face—tiny silver hoops and delicate studs— have been taken off for the start of her shift, giving her an unexpectedly fresh look. your thoughts scatter the moment you see her, like autumn leaves in a brisk wind, as if attempting to hide from nina's presence despite the woman not being able to hear them.

your hand drops from the hold on your pained stomach, gliding down to the unforgiving chill of the bench beneath you, the shock of the cold metal causes goosebumps to ghost along your skin. when the two of you meet eyes, you can't help but grin teasingly as you respond to her, “mhm, i’m off the next two days as well,” there's a keen lilt to your voice and nina groans, her head teetering back in disbelief, her soft, rounded hands settling defiantly on her curvy hips. nina's gaze resembles deep pools of dark chocolate, rich and indulgent, infused with a small hint of cayenne.

“tell me you're thinkin’ about pickin’ up,” her voice pleads, her curvaceous figure now leaning against the threshold of the changing room. nina’s lips, petite yet full with a pronounced cupid's bow, pull into a soft frown, her chin set and a small dimple forming in the skin.

nina’d been working at the prospect long before you came, but the two of you formed bonds quickly in only a couple of weeks despite the age gap, with her being a few years your senior, the connection felt effortless. “i have a new server comin’ in and i don't want to train him alone, you know how packed we get on saturdays.” she mutters bitterly and your nose scrunches up at the mere idea of having to work on the weekend.

because the prospect was one of the three human ran restaurants in felicity port, that wasn't in the glades, it was bound to be packed and always drew in crowds like moths to a flame. most of the dickheads and drunks came out on the weekends and most workers dreaded being scheduled for it. however, when you and nina were on the clock together, most would leap at the chance to work those nights. you let out a sigh and shake your head, lips pursing and toeing into your beat-up shoes. “i would– you know i would, but cody is on my ass for the amount of overtime i racked up last month, so i can't.”

nina’s forehead gently collides with the door frame as she processes your response, a rhythmic thud echoing in the air. after a few moments, she pivots her head to meet your gaze. “bitch, why do you do these things to me? creo que voy a dejarlo.” the question is filled with exhaustion and slight irritation that has your mouth opening in a boisterous laugh, much to nina's growing irritation. the hispanic woman's hand lifts from its grip on the doorframe, and the middle finger raises slowly, but it only makes you laugh harder as you clutch your weathered tote bag and rise from the cold metal bench. ( i think i'm going to quit. )

you lightly tap the toe of your shoes against the floor before walking towards nina and enveloping her shoulders with your arm, lips pressing to her olive toned cheek as a parting gift, soft chuckles still slipping from your lips. "i'll see you monday, nina." you tell her softly, patting her shoulder, then glide by her, walking to the back door of the restaurant.

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— THE PROSPECT RESTAURANT | 10:45 PM.

there's a chill in the air the moment you cross the threshold into the open, the warm autumn air from early in the morning feels like a figment of your imagination. and for a heartbeat, you linger, eyes lifted to the synthetic trees that stretch toward the artificial night sky, watching the transformation of leaves from vibrant green to fiery red, cascading down to the metallic earth below. where with each leaf that touches the surface, vanishes in a delicate explosion of shimmering blue motes.

the loud hum of machinery, and the occasional chirp of synthetic birds flitting between the branches makes your stomach churn. there was nothing real here.

despite it being deep into the night, felicity port was as bright and loud as ever. known to outsiders as: the place that never sleeps, andromexus city thrummed with life. the sharp sound of flying cars and the whoosh of hoverboards, the loud thrum of the machinery just beneath the metallic sidewalks and roads, the sound of pleasure androids promoting their workplace, and the sound of rowdy human men that came with it. there was never a moment where felicity port was silent, never a moment where shit wasn't happening.

it was a place where dreams were made and also came to die-- everyone yearned to call andromexus city home, yet only a select few could endure its relentless pace. it stopped for no one and at times, you wondered how you managed to survive.

your eyes flit around the darkened alleyway, well as dark as it could get with the flickering glow of promotional drones flying around, their neon signs casting a sharp light. you search intently until your eyes land on what you're looking for, or perhaps, who, you are looking for. with a steady stride, you approach the homeless man, joel, an older gentleman whose wisdom is etched into the lines of his weathered face. yet, despite the knowledge that comes with age, he has found himself adrift in felicity port, stripped of mexus currency and credits. "joel, i got you something to eat."

his lashes, wispy and white as gossamer, flutter before his eyelids lift revealing soft irises of honey brown and milky white. he was blind in one eye. joel's gaze seems to brighten the moment that they find you, a smile pulling at his thin lips, his crooked, yellow teeth on display to give you a warm smile. "you're here," the man murmurs, his voice raspy yet tender, as he shifts slightly beneath the thick blanket, a gift given to him by you.

you can't help the smile that blooms on your face as you crouch before him, rummaging through your well-worn tote bag to retrieve the food you had pilfered from the restaurant kitchen. "i am," you murmur back softly, grabbing his thin hand, blue veins protruding against his flesh. you gently place the hefty weight of the box in his grasp. "enjoy, joel,"

there's a soft pop of your joints when you stand from your crouched position and you grimace softly, hefting your tote bag over your shoulder once more and taking a few steps back from the man. with a swift turn, you exit the alleyway, a smile curling your lips when you hear the faint voice of joel calling out a, 'thank you', the bustling sounds of the street greeting you.

when you first moved to andromexus city, the sounds and smells of felicity port made you nauseous and dizzy. you could barely be outside for more than ten minutes without swallowing down the burning taste of vomit, without having your hands cushioning the weight of your skull in your palms. the lights were too bright, everything too loud, the smell of oil and smoke filling your lungs and clinging to the walls like an unwelcome guest you had been overwhelmed, with no one to help you become accustomed to it.

despite having resided in felicity port for a few years, there was still a dull ache in the back of your head the moment you stepped outside of your apartment. with a gentle shake of your head and a deep sigh, you deftly maneuver through the packed streets of the entertainment district, narrowly dodging teenagers zipping by on hoverboards and gliding on sonic razorblades. this was the familiar rhythm of your day, the 'dream' you had envisioned while living in nebulon city, where the population was only ten thousand.

"i'll take a corndog."

"that'll be five, in mexus currency."

the prices were cheap in felicity port but then again, the food wasn't real out here in the entertainment district. just crafted to resemble the culinary delights of a bygone era, a time when the world still had the animals and resources to create such dishes. you weren't too sure if this was even the original taste of a corndog, with its sweet, bready exterior and the savory meat hidden within, all generously slathered in ketchup and mustard. nothing was real.

as you turn down the familiar street that your apartment rests on, you observe the small android children frolicking on their porches, undeterred by the late hour. sleep was a concept foreign to them, after all; they weren't bound by human needs. your blunt human teeth bite into the familiar taste of the corndog, a treat you always got yourself the moment you got off of work. a soft sound of contentment escaped your lips, chewing slowly as your eyes took in the activity of felicity port.

"excuse me."

"sorry,"

the softness of your lips part to mutter, hips narrowly missing the patrolling security robot as you continue your way down the street. for a fleeting moment, your gaze lingers on the machine before you turn your attention ahead. andromexus city was no stranger to crime; it was a constant presence. it was inevitable with the number of jewle addicts and homeless that took up more than half the population and each night, countless individuals fell victim to theft, losing their credits and mexus currency. thankfully you had never been targeted before.

the moment your apartment complex comes into view, your eyes land on a huge box stationed in front of your door and your lashes flutter, your stomach clenching painfully from hunger. you instinctively press your fingers against your abdomen, trying to ease the discomfort, while you cautiously ascend the stairs to your floor. eyebrows furrowing and footsteps light. you hadn't ordered anything in months, yet with each step, your address becomes more distinct, and your name emerges clearly on the package.

your fingers glide across the surface of the box, your eyes darting around as you absorb its details, eventually settling on the tiny logo of cybernautic technologies nestled in the bottom right corner. your eyebrows lift in soft question before you slide past the box, placing your thumb on the doorknob. the scanner emits a red blinking light until the mechanical sound of your door unlocking is heard and the scanner flashes green.

as you turn the knob and push the door to your apartment ajar, you let your bag tumble to the floor with a soft thud. standing there, hands on your hips, you tilt your head back to scrutinize the top of the box that looms above you, lips trembling as you let out a sigh, muttering softly to yourself, "what the hell are you?"

SEPTEMBER 11TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 11:57 PM.

it took more than half an hour for you to drag the box into your apartment and the center of your living room, it was as if it were a leaden weight that clung stubbornly to the ground. you were sure it weighed a ton, and in the process, you had chipped at least two nails.

now, standing before the box with your hip tilted to one side, you were drenched in sweat, your chest rising and falling with exertion. meanwhile, your android dog, who you named willow, was still stationed at its charging station and though the thought of letting her roam free while you tackled the unboxing was tempting, you ultimately decided against it.

walking to the kitchen, your hand instinctively reached for the laser knife nestled in its sheath. with purpose, you returned to the box, carefully slicing along the dotted lines designed for a precise opening of a package from cybernautic technologies. after a few deft cuts, the front of the box fell away, hitting the tiled floor with a resounding thud. your blade followed suit, clattering down just moments later as your gaze finally settled on the imposing figure within the box—a large, burly man, no android, firmly secured within it.

he was naked from his neck to the deep v-line at his hips; from then on he was covered by a pair of cnt boxer briefs that truly left little to the imagination. you swallow thickly, forcing your gaze to remain fixed on his face. he possessed a rugged handsomeness, his dark blonde hair tousled and his lips a delicate shell pink. he looked real, a vividness that made it difficult to believe he was an android. with a trembling hand, you reach up to brush softly against his cheek feeling the chill of his skin—a common trait among androids, especially when they were not connected to their charging stations.

your breath hitches just from the touch of his frigid artificial skin, and your fingertips brush and tap down his flesh until they get to his chest, where you press your palm firmly against him. your eyes remain fixed on his face, tilting your head slightly in a daze, lips slightly parted as your gaze roams over his features, the contours of his jawline, the curve of his lips, and the startling realness of his skin. there was something so different about him compared to the other androids that have been made. your fingers wander over the delicate hairs just below his navel, a soft, almost reverent touch, but then you withdraw your hand abruptly, as if you'd been shocked.

your gaze darts around your living room for a brief moment before it settles on a small envelope glued to the front of the box. in a swift motion, you lower yourself into a crouch, pressing your palm against the sturdy cardboard surface. with your other hand, you carefully peel the letter free, shaky hands, ripping it open, fumbling to get the note out of the envelope before your eyes roam over its contents.

exciting news: you've been selected as a beta user! dear [recipient's name], here at cyberbautic technologies, we’re thrilled to inform you that you have been chosen as a beta user for our latest innovation, the android robot known as "the guard dog." this advanced robot is designed to provide security and companionship in your home. you will have a full week to interact with the guard dog, testing its features and functionalities. we encourage you to explore all its capabilities, which include smart surveillance, voice interaction, personalized security settings and other functions. your feedback is invaluable to us, so please take note of your experiences, any challenges you encounter, and suggestions for improvement. best regards, [your name]

your lips part in a soft movement of disbelief, and your gaze darts back to the android confined within the box, his eyes closed in a serene slumber and framed by long, delicate blonde lashes. everything about him was so big, so masculine, and void of any gentle contours. broad shoulders taper down to a powerful torso, each muscle defined and pronounced and thick, muscular thighs, thick and sturdy.

your eyes travel down to his large hands with blunt fingernails, it reminds you of a life of labor, of toil and effort, as if he wasn't forged from metal and circuitry. each finger is thick and strong, capable of both delicate precision and overwhelming force. a sharp, prominent nose, slightly askew as if it has borne the brunt of countless battles. it was as if he was a greek god sculpted from marble.

letting the letter fall from your hands you walk forward and lean in close, eyes looking for the small power button nestled just beneath and behind his ear. with trembling fingers, slick with sweat, you press it, feeling a bead trickle down your temple. the sound of him powering on reverberates through the confines of your small apartment, and you carefully retreat a step back.

nothing.

no movement, unlike what you’d seen in countless galaxy network videos of android unboxings. your eyebrows twitch as you instinctively move to take a step forward, but then a voice echoes through the air—dark, deep, and tinged with a rough accent. it sent a warm wave of heat unfurling within your stomach, leaving you momentarily breathless. hand pressing to your heart to calm the fierce thumping.

“standby mode: off.”

a gentle hum emanates from his internal mechanisms and as if awakening from a deep slumber, his eyes slowly open, the brown irises glowing a pale blue, while streams of programming code flicker rapidly across their surface. you watch as his chest slowly starts to move, as if he is mimicking the act of breathing. and the moment you step closer, you can feel the heat rolling off his body in waves.

“performing quick self-diagnostic check.”

crouching, you retrieve the laser knife from the floor. you approach the android, your heart racing as you carefully slice through the straps binding his arms; descending back down to also cut the straps from his ankles; making sure to avoid looking anywhere below his waist. once the android is free from his bindings, you swiftly retreat a few paces, creating distance between you and the now-unrestrained figure.

“diagnostics complete.”

the gruff, deep, accented, and almost monotonous sound of his voice sends a chill racing down your spine, and the scent of pine and something akin to smoke invades your nose and lungs. then his brown eyes, so life-like and dark, are on yours, with an intensity that is hard to ignore. your eyes widen when he speaks, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his face, “id code: #a36h920tr, you have been selected as a beta user for my model, ‘the guard dog,’ set to launch in the fall of next year. i am the only one of my kind and have been named, simon.”

what exactly have you signed up for?

your mouth gapes like a fish out of water, while your eyes blink in a startled manner, akin to an owl's gaze, as a tightness grips your throat, a constricting band that makes it feel as though you are being choked by an unseen force, “y-yes, my name is [your name].” you mutter, heart thudding so hard in your chest, it’s almost painful.

“your heart rate is above the normal range. initiatin’ a complete body scan for owner: [your name].”

hot. your flesh felt like it was peeling from your bones, dissolving into a pile of gore at your feet. you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. he was an android, he wasn’t real, just a mere construct of metal and circuits, yet he appeared so convincingly lifelike, both in appearance and sound, that it was disorienting. you could almost convince yourself he was real, as real as the oppressive warmth surrounding you. with a sharp intake of breath, you cleared your throat and raised your hand, halting his scanning gaze. “no! i’m fine, it’s just…hot.” you mutter sheepishly.

simon’s gaze is an unwavering, dark pit, drawing you in with an intensity that felt almost otherworldly. as if he could ask you to do something and you would, without hesitation. the way he spoke, low and deep, growly and gruff, like distant thunder, set all of your nerves on fire and scorched your bones to the marrow.

the two of you are silent for a moment, and you catch a glimpse of the android's gaze flickering momentarily to your breasts and thighs, see the soft clenching of his large hands, yet, just as quickly, his eyes return to meet yours. your lips part and his eyes follow dutifully, taking in the softness of your mouth, the delicate curve of your lips, the gentle nervous breath that escapes, and the slight peek of your pink human tongue. you wonder what thoughts race through his mind, what algorithms are at play as he watches you. wonder if he's aware of the way your skin tingles under his gaze.

was it even possible to have sexual tension with a damn robot?

you practically jump out of your skin when he shifts, thick powerful legs, connecting to a tapered waist, emerging from the confines of the box. in response, you step back, wide eyes on his. then his whole body is out, and somehow he seems bigger than he was before– it's as if he takes up all the space in your small apartment. you can't help the breath of awe that escapes, or the way your eyes trail down his neck, past the swell of his adams apple, before settling on the impressive contours of his chest.

there's something akin to amusement that seems to swirl in his eyes when you find his gaze again, that and something…dark, in a way. just as you prepare to speak, a subtle flash of red flickers from just behind and beneath his ear.

“my power level ‘s low,” he informs you, and you respond with a nod, feeling somewhat foolish as you remain rooted to the spot. his eyes narrow, like a predator watching prey, prompting you to finally break the silence. you wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your pants. “right, sorry. uh, i have a charging pad, just, um–” you motion towards the corner of the living room where your android dog was stationed on a charging port.

simon’s head cranes to look where you point and he lets out a soft, deep grunt before his dark eyes find yours, and it steals your breath, and causes heat to blossom between the apex of your thighs. you shake your head, attempting to dispel the swirling thoughts, and cautiously maneuver around him, you can’t help but notice the way his gaze follows you, breath hitching when you hear him take in a soft inhale of your scent.

you quickly make your way to the charging pad and gently pick up willow, cradling her plush body to your chest and stepping out of the way. “you can charge now, simon.” you murmur, pivoting to meet his gaze. however, he's already bridged the gap, now merely a foot away. the artificial warmth radiating from him sends a wave of dizziness through you, mingling with the earthy scent of pine and smoke that clings to his frame. he’s a massive android, perhaps the biggest creation cybernautic technologies has made.

a small startled sound escapes your mouth and you instinctively shuffle away, your back pressing against the cool surface of the wall. he looks as if he’s going to eat you whole, ravage your body, and leave you as nothing more than a heap of overstimulated flesh. you swallow thickly and his intense gaze flits down to your throat. there's a stall in his mechanics, you notice the way a vivid purple light flickers from his power button and turn red before his dark eyes finally break away from yours, and he strides toward the charging pad, the 'muscles' in his jaw tightening.

“standby mode: on.”

with a trembling inhale, you observe his eyelids fluttering close, and his chest stopping its movement; almost as if he were no longer alive. the moment simon is charging, you exhale sharply, pressing a hand against your heart, holding willow close.

“i think i’m gonna pass out.”

SEPTEMBER 12TH, 3020 ⸺ ANDROMEXUS CITY, FELICITY PORT— PROXXY STREET | 4:09 AM.

you're not sure what the time is or why you woke up, but your lashes flutter, and the stark white ceiling comes into focus, the shadows of your room slowly receding. despite the warmth from your comforter, you can feel a brush of cool air over your collarbones. your eyes glide around your room, groggily taking in the dark chamber before landing on a massive, bulky figure looming at the foot of your bed.

a scream lodges its way in your throat, attempting to claw its way out, but before it can break free, a deep, gravelly voice cuts through the tension. “your heart rate is elevated, and your stress hormones are off the charts. you’re frightened,” he states, his tone almost indifferent. you swallow hard, the scream lodged deep within you, your heart racing and your skin flushing with heat. “what the hell are you doing in my room?” you murmur, sitting up slowly in bed.

“i am programmed to always be within a certain range of you, sweetheart.” he states gruffly, his voice, while panty-dropping, had a bit of sass to it. “this ‘s a setting that can’t be overridden.” simon finishes, and you can feel his eyes on you, roaming over the exposed skin of your body, it sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

sweetheart? did he just call you sweetheart? why were your nipples getting hard right now?

you swallow thickly, and stretch your hand to flick on the lamp beside your bed, the soft click seemingly loud in your ears and the warm light chasing away shadows. you feel the pressure of your teeth against the inside of your cheek as you steal a glance at him, he’s still only clad in his cnt boxers, all tight to his skin. quickly, you avert your eyes, focusing instead on his face, before you can get anywhere lower.

the two of you stare at one another, his gaze, deep and smoldering, as if he could see straight into your soul, felt like having sex with just a look. it felt like his hands were sliding tantalizingly along your skin, tracing every curve, while his lips and tongue roamed your breasts with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. you could smell his scent, pine, and smoke, engulfing you, threatening to suffocate you. was it possible to get turned on by just staring at someone? you could almost feel the weight of his hands, the way they would explore, mapping out the contours of your form with a deftness that no human could match.

you shattered the stillness, your gaze lingering a moment longer before you gestured toward the bed, right at your feet. “you can sit here.” you say softly, breath hitching as he swiftly follows your ‘command’, his huge body moving with the grace of a feline, that belied his size as he stalks over to the bed, the mattress dipping heavily and your bed frame creaking and groaning in protest under his weight. the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

he’s close, way closer than you’d thought he’d be, so much so that his body heat seeped through the comforter and warmed your bones. you clear your throat and attempt to steel your frazzled nerves. “y-you feel…different, from the other androids cnt has made.” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you shifted beneath the sheets, rising onto your knees on the bed, the fabric rustling softly. you could feel his gaze on you, a steady presence that made your skin tingle. “…more real.” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “it feels like you're not just a collection of algorithms and circuits. you… you have a presence, a warmth that makes me forget you’re not human.”

“recent advancements have led to the development of new formulas that enhance androids with more human-like traits and emotions. we are now modeled after humans who are meticulously chosen through a rigorous selection process and subsequently analyzed across various disciplines to evaluate their characteristics.” simon replies smoothly, his gaze briefly dancing over the soft curves of the exposed plush of your thighs before they’re back on yours. had they not been basing androids off of humans this whole time? what does it mean to be human in a world where androids can evoke such genuine feelings? the warmth of his presence envelops you, and for a fleeting moment, you forget the boundaries that separate flesh from circuitry.

your breath snags in your throat, and heat engulfs the entirety of your body, your lips parting and your gaze stuck on his. he wasn’t flesh and blood; he was an android, a mere machine, yet the desire to reach out and touch him surged within you, stronger than anything you had ever felt, never wanted to be touched the way you wanted him to touch you, it felt almost primal. you blamed it on being a sex-deprived woman. there weren't many choices here in felicity port. in this city, where the neon lights flickered like distant stars and the hum of machinery drowned out the whispers of the heart, you had learned to navigate the loneliness that surrounded you.

"can i touch you?" your lips part, and the words tumble out before you can catch them. you notice the brief pause in his software, and see the vibrant purple glow that dances at his power button before it shifts to a deep crimson. you wonder what that meant, wonder if he's thinking about what type of touch you're talking about. you don't retract your words, hell you don't speak at all; just sit there with a bated breath, eyes flickering over his face.

"yes."

his reply is husky and deep, dark brown eyes glued to yours, and you feel a flutter of fear, afraid that if you look away, you'll wake up and realize that this is all a dream. that simon wasn't really here in your bedroom, clad in only tight boxer briefs, and eye fucking you. his eyes roam over the bare skin of your thighs, lingering as if memorizing every inch, every curve, and his large hand twitches, as if he’s fighting an internal battle, and there's a vivid flash of purple before it ignites red. the room feels smaller, the walls closing in as the space between you shrinks.

you shift your knee forward, inching closer, the fabric of your night dress gliding up to expose more of your skin, more and more until your knees rest against the warmth of his bare thigh. the eye contact makes your entire body thrum with burning heat, his eyes never veering from yours; his large hands pressed to the tops of his thick, muscular thighs. his body swamps yours entirely- and you were nowhere near small—despite your own size, you feel dwarfed by his sheer strength, and the sight sends a rush of heat pooling in your panties. you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be enveloped in his embrace, to have those strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer still. have his tantalizing scent—warm, musky, and undeniably masculine— invading your senses.

simon watches as your human hand comes up to shakily brush against his skin, your fleshy lips parted to take in shallow breaths, your slender throat and face flushed with heat. he can see inside of you, see the thumping of your heart, the speed at which it increases, the surge of testosterone coursing through you. can smell the heat of your skin, the sweet scent of your body wash, his senses study it and he recognizes it as sugared lavender, milk, and honey. every detail becomes magnified—the way your eyelashes flutter, the slight quiver of your lips, the way your breath catches in your throat as you meet his gaze.

the subtle rise of your chest with each breath, the gentle flutter of your heartbeat, and the way your eyes sparkle with emotion—all of it pulls him deeper into a realm he has only observed from a distance. he can feel the real warmth of a human, not his synthetic core that heats his body, and it's starkly different, it overwhelms him for a fleeting instant, causing a momentary short circuit in his system. can see the difference between the soft rise and fall of your chest compared to his fake breathing, the delicate curve of your breasts--

this is what he was based on, a human. and he couldn't compare, not in the slightest. you were the blueprint. he felt himself utterly lacking. simon can't help but lean his cheek into your palm when you shakily press it to his face, feeling the delicate contours of your fingerprints against his skin, each ridge and curve imprinted itself in his mind, and commits this entire moment to memory.

your fingers brush and trail over the expanse of his face, tracing the contours of his forehead, the sturdy line of his chin, the defined angles of his jaw, and his cheekbones. finally, they linger on his lips, a delicate shell pink, inviting, and soft. he watches you, despite your gaze following the soft line of your fingers on his artificial skin, he watches you as if it’s the last thing he’ll be able to do.

out of the corner of your eye, a flicker of purple catches your attention before it ignites into a vivid red, his hands clenching when it happens, as if frustrated. curious, you trail your hand down his cheek and behind his ear, to where it flashes; before you can utter a word, his voice, deep and rough, fills the air. “can i touch you?”

your heart stops and skips all in the same breath and you nod, captivated as he turns his body toward you, his gaze never leaving yours. simon’s large hand rises to cradle your cheek, it’s a confident movement that sends a shiver down your spine, his thumb brushing over the true warmth of skin. his long, sturdy fingers then meander along the curve of your nose, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, and as his fingers glide around your eye, you can’t help but close them for a brief moment, surrendering to the sensation of his touch. his fingers finally rest on your lips, a gentle yet possessive gesture that sends a rush of warmth through your entire being.

he wonders what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his--

your lips are plush and fleshy, and he can’t help but drag your bottom lip down gently with his thumb, revealing the delicate curve of your gums and the soft pink of your tongue. simon releases your lip, his hand gliding down your slender neck, fingers pressed to the rapid thumping of your pulse before his fingers trace the delicate line of your collarbone.

“you’re nervous.” simon states gruffly, his voice rumbling with a hint of authority as he observes, fingers sliding down your neck, a warm, deliberate touch that glides to your side, where they press into the gentle curve of your waist, kneading the soft flesh of your abdomen with a firm yet tender grip. there's a weight to his tone, a certainty that makes you feel seen in a way that both comforts and unnerves you.

“you make me nervous,” you whisper, your breath hitching as your fingers fumble to clutch his shoulders, when his hand trails over the soft, covered underside of your ass, fingers dancing lower until they flit over the back of your bare thigh. the power button just beneath his ear pulses a soft purple, flickering repeatedly before it finally shifts to a deep red.

curious, you press your fingers softly to it, nails pressing gently into his skin. “what does that mean?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, your mind swirling with the intoxicating scent of him, at how close you are to him. a small voice in the back of your mind reminds you that this simon is merely an android, a fleeting creation destined to vanish in a week, not truly yours. but you wanted him all the same.

“the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon says gruffly, his fingers brushing against your thigh with a restless energy. “if the thoughts that i have of you or the touches that i attempt t’express conflict with the filter; i’ll recalibrate.”

“w-what kind of thoughts?” you whisper, throat bobbing as you swallow the lump that’s formed. his jaw tightens, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “i’ve wanted my coc–.” simon’s power button flickers to life, glowing a deep purple before shifting to a fierce red. he’s silent for only a moment, then his jaw sets even harder. “the filters installed in my hardware are functioning properly.” simon restates and you nod loosely, briefly wondering if there was a way to turn it off that— no, what the hell were you thinking?

yet, before you can rein in your thoughts, your lips part, and the words tumble out in a rush, "is there a way to turn it off?"

a/n : ya'll...why is the smut killing me? like, i enjoyed writing the plot but then i get to the smut and i'm like...meh. is it cause that's all i post? maybe. anyways! i'll write the second part one of these days, but i wanted to post this cause i love it so much. (did i do some clickabit? absolutely)

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messenger-of-babel · 13 days ago

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Home is Where the Heart is

Summary: You could never tell what Jason was thinking, and this particular night he has a lot on his mind. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Mini vent- had a bad day and this week has been really tough so I’m changing up the layout of today as well so I could put out a fic that was a little easier on my mind (I always need to have more pep in my step when I write for my lanterns idk why haha. So sorry Kyle my baby I want to do you justice so you're on backburner). It was indeed written to Ed Sheeran on loop cause I needed to lock in fr. ❤️❤️

Enjoy Lovelies~! xx

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When Jason looked at you, you often wondered what he was thinking.

What was passing through his mind that made his irises gleam that brilliant shade of emerald or let the natural curve of his smile adored his face. However, every time that you asked he just blew his hair from his eyes gruffly, but let the smile stay. "That's a secret," he'd say before his hand would pull you to kiss side and he'd press a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a little known fact that the Red Hood was in fact Jason Todd, but it was known to even less that Jason Todd was actually a romantic at heart. Sure, he had a mouth on him, and he was on the receiving end of your hand up the back of his head more often than he wasn't. But he was also the quiet kind of clingy, the kind that would never ask to hug you or initiate contact, but would stay up so he could have your back pressed against his chest the second you slipped into bed. He'd laugh when you brushed the hair out of his eyes, the scar on the corner of his mouth unable to stop his boyish grin. It was those moments in your kitchen that made you think that maybe, just maybe, your life was all normal.

You knew it wasn't.

When your fingers brush against his forehead you know that the white tuft in his hair was a painful reminder of his death, the scar on his lips you so lovingly kissed caused by the very man who had killed him. His hands were littered with small scars from blocking knives and protecting his head from glass instead of childhood memories of climbing trees. His back was a canvas of white slashes that intersected in a map-like pattern, a surface already so touched that the symmetrical red lines you left seemed less stunning in comparison. Legs sporting burn marks, bruises permanent along his ribs; that was the Jason that you knew. So even if some days you pretended that he was some ordinary civilian like yourself, you still loved Jason with all your heart.

On this particular night he had come home from patrol, sitting on the kitchen counter while you patched him up. You had been a pretty awful field doctor the first time you offered, but he braved through your prods and pokes with a wince. He didn't say anything about the way you wrapped the bandages too loosely or that you had forgotten some antiseptic and had given the wrong type of topical painkiller. Jason could see the worry on your face, so he leant forward and kissed your forehead tiredly, thanking you with a soft murmur.

You didn't need to know when he slunk off the bathroom to rewrap the bandages, or when he reapplied ointment in the right area. He picked glass out of his own skin when you missed some, letting the shards clatter down the sink. All that consumed him was the thought of how soft you were when you handled him, when you passed the bandage around his middle, or when you tried to clean the wound with as little antiseptic as possible to try and prevent the stinging. He normally hated having to doctor himself up, meaning that even the smallest of injuries tended to scar under his negligence. Yet with you he had been ashamed of the scars, hyper aware of how your eyes lingered on them. More so, how other people stared at them when you were out together. So, for months he spent nights in the bathroom redoing the handiwork you insisted so passionately on learning, just so that there wouldn't be a scar you could blame yourself for later.

You were absolutely perfect, so there was no reason that he couldn't be for you too.

You had become better though, and that was through the help of Alfred. Now you had patched him up efficiently and tightly, patting his hip affectionately when you pull the bandage tight. "Almost done," you smile up at him, fingers pulling the end of the bandage tight and reaching for a bandage clip. "Just got to secure it and you'll be good to go."

He smiles and drops a tired kiss to your skin as usual, pulling your fingers away when you’re done so he can raise them to his lips. "Thanks, darl." he grins, eyes tired but grin still lively as ever. He slides off the counter to wrap his hands around your waist, kissing your nose. You just huff and give him a side glance, arms circling his neck without hesitation.

"What's got you all worked up?" you ask with a light laugh when he’s overly affectionate with you, making Jason groan and drop his head into your hair.

"Just tired." he mumbles. "Bruce pissed me off again today, started lecturing me on the way home."

"Bruce pisses you off most days." you chide. "How did you ever escape the lecture?" you chuckle, moving with him as he begins to sway.

"I turned the commlink off and came up through Southside Gotham so he couldn't follow me." he grins.

There it was.

"There's always something with you, isn't there?" you shake your head, beginning to spin around with him softly in the candlelight. He laughs, and you imagine it’s the sound of a young boy finally getting to live life normally again.

"Always is, babe. you know me." he chuckles, and his eyes flutter over to the candles you have on the counter. It was always dark when he came home normally, and in his tired state he hadn't questioned it. After all, his family worked best in the dark.

"Power outage at the moment?" he asks.

"Power got cut off." you murmur back with a sigh. "We missed last payment. Only a few days, but you know how quick they jump on those these in Gotham. It's all paid up now, but it'll take a day or two to get back. Cold things from the freezer are in the washing machine with the ice blocks."

He hums, stroking a hand up and down your back. "You're well prepared. Sorry for making you deal with them, I'll handle it next time, I promise."

Jason hated using Bruce's money.

Not only was it something that sat bitter in his mouth ever since he had come back, but he didn’t need it. Dick had also rejected it and moved to Bludhaven, and even though he'd never admit it, Jason respected the way he managed to build a home for himself there. He wanted to do that too, and he could do it damn well by himself. He still took some money, but it was no more than a wage from Bruce. He considered protecting Gotham his job, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way of helping you both live. He hated to see you stress about finances, but you never asked him. You never asked him to reach out to Bruce for more or reach out to Bruce yourself.

The first time rent had gone up it had nearly priced the both of you out of the cozy apartment you lived in, and you had been in tears for days trying to find a second job to cover the expenses. Yet you didn’t come begging for Bruce's assistance, no. You looked at him with those teary eyes and asked him to help make a budget with you so you could figure a way out, and you did. You were the most resilient person he knew, the most resilient person he loved.

He held you closer as he spun you softly around the kitchen.

You were going to need to be resilient.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his arms bask in the warmth of you. Your skin against his made the thrumming in his side ease and the headache blistering behind his eyes subside. As you relaxed against him, his head raced of all the ways that he could tell you. Tell the most perfect being that had ever walked into your life that he was leaving, and not only that, he was going to have to break your heart on the way out.

He cursed Bruce. He cursed Bruce for making enemies that had cunning greater than his own, for dragging him into the mess he had created. He had yelled and spat and screamed at the older man until his voice resonated off the cave walls, storming from the cave after tonight's fight. Bruce had asked the impossible of him, after they both got their asses handed to them in a surprise attack. They had taunted Bruce, not the Batman, and had enough evidence to bring Bruce's world and carefully hidden persona crumbling down around him. It just so happened that they had enough to bring Jason's down as well.

They knew about you.

Pictures of you had fluttered down towards him, filling him with an indescribable sense of fear. As hard as they fought, they had let the new visitor of Gotham's nightlife slip through their fingers and Bruce had asked him to break up with you not a second later. There was no empathy, there was no kindness or waiting for it to sink in for him.

But there never was.

In that moment Bruce was Batman, but Red Hood had been the scared Jason Todd.

How did he tell you that he wanted to break up when that was the furthest thing from the truth? That he would walk through hell barefoot and dunk himself in the Lazarus pit again if that mean that you were still there to warm his bed at night? How could he tell you that he didn't love you when his heart ached to tell you it every time he got the courage? He could play the tears, play the part of a sad breakup. That part was easy, considering how this was shaping to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. It was the rage that he couldn't muster, for once. Rage was something that he saved for the streets, a place already so crime ridden and scummy that his bitterness and anger were practically masked under the filth. It wasn't a place for your home, the little shelter the both of you had carved out of Gotham with your own two hands.

So, he spun you around the room, eyes watering with tears yet to shed as he thought about how to let you go. He knew you wanted to stay, and that made his heart ache in return. It was like losing a part of him that hadn't even been lost yet, a void already forming in his chest. He sniffled lightly and thankfully you didn’t hear or notice his arms squeezing tighter, as if to imprint the feeling of you against his body. He tried to tell himself it was only a temporary thing, that he could explain it all to you later when the threat was done. That thought often lost against the conjured image of your heartbroken eyes his mind created to torture him, and the persistent thought that you'd probably never want to see him again when he was about to break your heart so violently.

You don't notice something is wrong until the first tear hits your hair, silently giving way to more. You notice the slight shake in his arms and the tension still wound in his body. Normally the stiffness in his muscles flowed out of him like water when he stepped over the threshold of the house, but not tonight.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly, pressing into him to try and comfort him, your heart panging in confusion at his strange behaviour.

Jason would never tell you, but when he looked at you he wondered what the rest of your life together would look like, and if you'd ever considering changing your name to 'Todd'.

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heartlilith · 1 year ago

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Astrology Observations

Here are some of my observations and opinions on various placements - Part 1

🖤Taurus placements are definitely the most stubborn fixed sign of all - My mom and sister are both Taurus, my dad is a Scorpio, my brothers are both Aquarius, I'm a Leo and I'm telling you... those Taurus's are something else

🎱One thing I will say is although Taurus placements are stubborn, they can whip it up in the kitchen like nobody's business

🖤A mix of Aries and Capricorn in the chart would make the perfect police officer tbh

🎱If your Mars is transiting your 8th house, be careful around machinery; cars, knives, tools, etc because accidents tend to happen with this transit... especially if there's harsh aspects; Mars-Pluto, Mars-Uranus, Mars-Neptune, and Mars-Saturn

🖤OPINION: This isn't based on facts but I think Pisces/Neptune dominant natives can either come into this life as an old or new soul. Some of these people that I've met seem completely lost in this life; drug use, behavioral problems, homelessness, just lost - like they're living and navigating this life for the first time. Other Pisces placements I've met get their Neptunian traits to work for them instead of against them, which can make them geniuses of some sort - like they've lived this life 100 times before and have finally mastered it. Obviously this depends on aspects and I think all these natives have the ability to be smart and spiritual... I guess it's a matter of how they use their Neptunian traits.

🎱Venus in the 2nd house wants to be spoiled by their partner, it's giving sugar baby energy

🖤Moon-Asc aspects, Moon in the 1st, and Cancer rising natives wear their emotions ... like everyone knows what you're feeling babe its all over your face!

🎱Romeo definitely had his Moon and Venus in Juliet's 8th house

🖤Sun and/or Moon transiting the 12th house is asking you to rest, reflect, and recharge

🎱This is debatable but Libras are the golden retrievers of the zodiac

🖤The degree of your sun sign can indicate when your life really shifted... my sun sign is in the 9th degree and that's the age my parents split and my childhood was over :)

🎱A mix of Gemini and Pisces in a chart can indicate having a foot fetish

🖤People with their sun sign as your moon sign can indicate that you love their cooking

🎱People with their rising sign as your moon sign make really good friends because they just *get* you and your way of thinking

🖤People with their Venus/Mars sign as your Sun sign are great at hyping you up and making you feel good about yourself

🎱People with their Venus/Mars sign as your rising sign means they think you're good looking, you're their "type"

🖤Has anyone else noticed that prominent Gemini placements in a chart usually makes the individual blonde?

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houseofknivesaustralia · 1 year ago

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Kitchen Knives Types - Find the Perfect Blades for Your Culinary Creations!

Discover a wide range of kitchen knives types for all your culinary needs. From versatile chef's knives to precise paring knives, our collection offers the best blades for professional chefs and home cooks alike. Experience exceptional sharpness, ergonomic handles, and superior durability. Upgrade your kitchen arsenal with our high-quality knife sets today!

#kitchen knives types

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allllium · 9 days ago

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i saw a funny tiktok of a couple that the boy had only ONE plate at home because he lives alone, so when his girlfriend comes over he eats in other recipients so that the girl can uses the plate (he eats in the pan, cutting board, etc) and i just thought: oh my god that's SO jason coded

no bc this is so real

I just know he's the man that only has one of everything, and I mean everything!!!

this man has one plate, one bowl, one fork, one spoon, more one than knives, but one pot, he only has one chair at the table bc he doesn't want people getting too comfortable.

And I just know he'd be so confused why you're so confused, like wdym he should get another plate? he'll just eat it in a bowl. You need the spoon then he's fine with the fork.

He genuinely won't buy any extras, you will have to bring your own eating utensils.

But he's also the type of person who doesn't like the way certain utensils feel when he's holding them (cough cough me) so he will judge you based on what you chose to bring.

Of course it gets worse than the kitchen

He has one pillow, one towel, one fucking blanket!!!

You might think he's insane and you'll again have to bring your own sleeping things but once he realizes how amazing it is to sleep with multiple pillows and blankets in a big pile, he won't give them back

Your pillows are his know. Your blankets are gone.

Oh no it looks like you'll have to sleep at his place from now on 🤷‍♀️

(It may seem like he planned it this way but no, he genuinely doesn't want your stuff to leave his presence)

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amomentsescape · 10 months ago

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I love your writing! Could I possibly get a Slasher X reader. One of the Reader ending up in the hospital for whatever reason. It could be over sickness or getting injured/hunt.

Slashers React to Reader Ending Up in the Hospital

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Mentions of injury, illness, and killings

A/N: Thank you so much! Some of the Slashers were written outside of the hospital setting since I don't think all of them would be comfortable stepping out into public. I hope you still enjoy though!

Freddy Krueger

Freddy decided to pay you a visit in the real world when he hadn't heard from you in a few days

It wasn't like you to not say anything, and he was starting to get worried

But when he checked into your bedroom and found you nowhere in sight, he quite literally freaked out

(He may have visited some of your friends that night and threatened them to find out where you were)

When he finally found you in the hospital, he was even more worried

You could barely talk and your eyes were horribly bloodshot

It was only when you began coughing did he realize what was going on

"I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than 20 minutes without coughing" you hoarsely whispered to him

Despite wanting to take you back home with him, he knew better

He wasn't exactly a doctor, and he cared more about you getting better than you visiting him

So he let you be

He did help you with falling asleep though

And he visited you every night until you got better

He killed a couple nurses that he stated weren't taking care of you well enough though

Michael Myers

Yeah, he's pissed

He comes home, and you're not there?

Livid

Mostly at the idea that something happened to you, but he won't admit that the idea of you leaving him may have crossed his mind a couple times

But when he finds a note stating you were going to get yourself checked out at the hospital, he immediately heads out without a second thought

You have no idea how, but he sneaks in without anyone noticing him?

He immediately rips the blanket off of you and scans your body, trying to pinpoint what is wrong

It's only when he sees your bandaged leg that he meets your eyes

"I was trying to clean your knife, and it slipped..." you said like a kid about to be scolded

He shook his head at you and then lifted you into his arms, carrying you out of the room

While walking out, you happen to notice several dead bodies laying on the ground, blood pooling around them

Ah, so that's how he got in

Jason Voorhees

It was after the 5th night of not being able to breathe fully that you gave in, deciding to go to the hospital

You told Jason it would be super quick, but after a few hours, you still hadn't returned

Instead of just waiting a little longer like a normal person, Jason assumed that something terrible had happened and decided to make a public appearance

(Something he doesn't do often)

He headed into town and located the nearest hospital

Luckily, it was late by now, and the hospital wasn't quite as busy as normal

When he stepped inside, he just slammed down a piece of paper with your name on it, the front desk worker frantically typing in the computer

With how Jason looked and the size of his machete in tow, nobody even bothered to question him

When he was finally pointed to your room, he immediately picked you up and walked back out with you

After finding your doctor and making them give him your prescriptions, he was off to take you back home with him

He wouldn't dare spend even a single night without you

Thomas Hewitt

With the amount of meat hooks, knives, and scrapped bones around, it was a surprise you hadn't gotten into an accident sooner

You were a pretty clumsy person in general, so when you stumbled over a little dip in the tile floor of the kitchen, you instinctively reached your hand out to stop yourself

You managed to not hit the ground, but you sacrificed the palm of your hand in the process

A large butcher's knife was sitting on the counter, and it had sliced right into your skin

Thomas was rushing to your side in a hurry, frantically smooshing towels onto your wound to stop the bleeding

Despite his protests, you insisted on going to get looked at in the hospital

You were certain your hand was going to need stitches

While you were out, he just sat on the couch the whole time, staring at the wall

You promised to be back later, and so he trusted you

But there was no way he was going to be productive with you gone

Once were finally back, Thomas was quick to give you princess treatment

He makes you lay in bed while he brings you food, treats, and cuddles

He'll be watching you like a hawk for the weeks to come, that's for sure

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba was quite literally hanging onto your ankles as you tried to make your way through the door

He was blubbering like crazy

But this stomach flu you've been dealing with was making you miserable

You needed some type of medicine to sort yourself out, although Bubba disagreed

You told him you'd be back soon before giving one last shake and running out the door, leaving Bubba whining after you

He was yelling at basically everything and everyone, frantically storming around the house until you came back

He knew he wouldn't be able to go with you, but he hated you going anywhere by yourself

He was only calm again when you walked back through the door a couple hours later, some weird looking pills in hand

He'd be all over you after that, refusing to even let you go to the bathroom by yourself

And unfortunately for him, this attachment to you resulted in him waking up with the same stomach pains you had just a day later

At least you still had some medicine left, right?

Brahms Heelshire

So there's no way in hell Brahms would ever let you go to the hospital

When you accidentally tripped on the stairs, knocking yourself unconscious during the fall, Brahms was going through a mental breakdown

He didn't know how to help you

And despite all the shaking and slaps he could muster, nothing would wake you up

He finally gave up and decided to call 911

When the ambulance showed up, they were met with a grisly surprise

One of the medics was immediately killed upon entry, and the other was held at knife point, forced to call back and say everything was fine

Brahms then forced them to help you, watching their every move

It was only once your eyes fluttered open that his body relaxed

He quickly disposed of the other medic, immediately tending to you

But don't worry, Brahms would deal with the bodies and the ambulance later

He did it for you after all

Norman Bates

It was actually Norman's idea for you to go to the hospital in the first place

It wasn't like you to be dealing with a cold for this long, and he was beginning to get worried

He happily drove you there, patiently sitting in the waiting room as the doctor took you back to check you out

With a couple prescriptions (and a hefty payment) later, you were back at home with him, relaxing in bed

Norman made sure you always had some tea to drink and soup to eat throughout the night

He even ran the bath for you in hopes of opening your sinuses

He just seems like a normal, doting partner

But if the medicine doesn't seem to help soon, Norman supposes he may need to pay the doctor another visit...

Just to talk things over, of course

Billy Loomis

It's just a little cut, why do you need to go to the hospital?

You shouldn't have been playing with his knife in general

He told you it was dangerous

But he can take care of you himself, he's sure of it

But when he finds you gone just a few minutes later, he immediately becomes tense

Great

With a loud sigh and a few curse words later, Billy is out the door and driving after you

When he makes it to the hospital, he just storms inside

He ignores all the calls from staff to "come back" and to "not go in there"

He finds you talking with the doctor, a look of shock on your face

(You're not exactly sure how he knew which room you were in)

"Are we done here?" Billy grumbles

"You shouldn't be back here"

Billy rolls his eyes at the doctor

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

And with that he, grabs your hand and walks you out, being mindful of your bandaged arm

You're still not sure how you haven't received a bill from the hospital yet

In fact, you haven't heard back from the doctor at all in the past few days

Huh, weird

Stu Macher

Nothing about Stu is calm... ever

So the moment he realizes you aren't home at your normal time, he flips

Probably tries to call and text you numerous times

He even calls Billy who's like "how am I supposed to know??"

When you finally send a text back saying that you went to the doctor's, he quickly responds back saying he's coming to get you

He storms into the hospital like he owns the place, immediately asking the staff where you were

If any of them refuse, he gives them a wicked smile that makes them all uncomfortable

They give in quickly

Stu suddenly barges into your room asking "what's wrong" and "who hurt you?"

You almost laugh at his worry since all that happened was you falling due to being clumsy

He just sighs and shakes his head

"You should have called me"

Once you're all ready to go, he just walks out with you with your arm wrapped in his

He says goodbye to all the staff like nothing ever happened, but they all look a bit fearful

Eric Draven

After fighting with the flu for a good week, Eric decides he should take you to get checked out

Despite your protests, he insists he needs to take you and stay with you (just to make sure they hear you out and give you what you need)

Eric wouldn't hurt or threaten any of the hospital staff, but his presence alone is enough to make them feel intimidated

You're practically in and out within just 20 minutes

"That wasn't so bad, right?" he teased

You just give him a little shove

He pretty much dotes on you for the time being until you get better

Unlike most of the Slashers, Eric has no issues with you going to the occasional doctor's visit

He cares a great deal about your health and always wants what's best for you

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ghxstwrites · 10 days ago

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You're Mine

Pairing: Ghostface!Hongjoong x Female Reader, Brief Seonghwa x Reader, Brief San x Reader.

Summary: Hongjoong was in love with you and he’d kill to have a chance with you.

WC: 2.4K

AU: Non-Idol! Hongjoong, brief College! AU

Genre: Horror, Smut

Warning(s): Smut! MDNI; use of Knives/knife kink, Mask Kink, Degradation and Praise, Yandere!Hongjoong, name calling, unprotected sex (yes, just as scary, wrap it!), pet names (baby, doll), name calling, swearing, talks of crime scenes/bodies - no graphic descriptions

A/N: Happy Halloween, Loves! I couldn't think of a better way to finish the season than with captain himself. Thank you to my beta readers @bunnliix and @potatomountain for helping me out here!

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society

Tag List: @bethelighthalazia @a---shura @kpop---scenarios @autieofthevalley @rems-writing @skzdust (send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

Kinktober & Flufftober Masterlist

The wind picked up as you walked through the neighborhood, Halloween was only a few days away and you could definitely tell.

The carved pumpkins on everyone's doorsteps, the goofy inflatables and plastic props sticking out of lawns, and the multicolored leaves on the ground that crunch under your feet as you walk down the street. You were on the way to your friend's house as you were bringing supplies for a party that was meant to happen at his apartment over the weekend.

Knocking on his door, you didn’t get a response, you opted to shoot him a text.

“Hey loser, you said you were home, where are you?” you sent the message to him not long after the door swings open and he’s drying off his hair.

“Sorry, I had to take a shower - I just got back from the gym and I was uh.. pretty gross,” he admits to you. You roll your eyes and brush past him sitting the bags on his kitchen island.

“Of everyone,” you paused looking up at your friend, “Why did you opt to host the party Joong?” You chuckle as he approaches you. “You don't really seem like the type to go to parties, plus we need some decorations, Man!”

He laughs as he tosses the towel to the side “I don’t go to parties, plus this is just a few people - i’ll manage,” he smirks as he leans against the counter.

It was Friday night, all of your friends pile into Hongjoong’s apartment, some of the guys had started to to drink and make unholy liquor concoctions as you try to set up the snacks for the night and just as the last attendee comes in Hongjoong walks out of his room pulling a shirt over his head.

“Wait, Where’s Seonghwa?” one of the others perked up.

“He’s usually never late,” you add, looking defeated, you had been hoping to catch him here because in the days leading up to the party the two of you had been exchanging flirtatious glances and witty comments. Maybe you’d even get lucky when no one was looking.

“Maybe he got caught up at work or something,” Hongjoong shrugs, not paying too much mind to the situation as he flops down on the couch setting up the movies for the night. “Scream marathon anyone?” He looks over at the group of his friends.

“I don’t really do scary movies, Joong…,” you say softly, before he has the chance to respond, San smiles at you.

“You can cling on to me as you need to, I’ll protect you,” he says confidently with a smirk.

Hongjoong could feel his blood boil, who did these guys think they were? You were his and he wasn't going to fight anyone for you, but on the outside he remained expressionless, huffing out a response he turned back to the TV pressing play on the movie.

After a few drinks, you settled back into San’s touch, his broad shoulders providing a comfortable back board to rest against. Across the room, Hongjoong settles into his spot on the sofa as he steals glances at you and San, his blood presure rising with each passing moment he sighs to himself, “Who gives a fuck about these movies,” he mutters under his breath as he gets up to go pour himself yet another drink.

He’d had an alternative to his party, getting you all to himself. He’d spent months pinning over you, doing anything he could to get you close to him, so when your sights got set on Seonghwa he felt betrayed, crushed, and even used. Hongjoong knew there was only one solution, after all - Seonghwa was the campus nerd, who would really miss him if that meant Hongjoong had what he wanted, no, needed. You.

San excuses himself so he can get some fresh air and attempt to sober up, he makes his way outside. Just as San slips out of the back door Hongjoong follows him.

“Oh hey man, i did-,” San doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence Hongjoong swings, punching San in his face. “What the fuck man?!” he yells out covering his nose

“Listen here bastard,” Hongjoong grits out “Anyone who flirts with Y/N… they go missing” Hongjoong locks eyes with the younger man. “Why do you think Seonghwa isn’t here?” He smiles wickedly, “She’s mine.”

It’d been about 45 minutes, San nowhere in sight, and now that you think about it - Where did Hongjoong go? Your eyelids were growing heavy so you tried to pay no mind to it until you heard Wooyoung gasp as he reached to pause the movie.

“Fucking, Seonghwa’s dead?!” He screeches out looking at his phone. You immediately shot up off the couch as silence fell over the friend group as they all focused their attention on him, he tapped on the news article.

“The victim was found this afternoon near his college dorm, police later identifying him as Park Seong-Hwa, a 26 year old college student, the police have not pinpointed a suspect at this time, all that was left behind at the crime scene was a note saying ‘Don’t blame the movies.’ Investigators believe the suspect could be a ‘copycat’ killer of the popular character ‘Ghostface’ from the Scream franchise, More updates as they are released.”

“I… I’m gonna step outside,” you whisper, you needed a mental breather, this was a lot to take in so you picked up your drink, making your way out to the back yard. Just as you step off to the side of the house you hear rustling, Looking up you first see San’s white t shirt, now stained your eyes naturally following the figure leaned over him which caused you to freeze, it was the man you’d just read about - a man dressed as ghostface, holding a knife and you couldn’t bring yourself to scream.

“What's the matter y/n?.. You look like you’ve seen a Ghost.” the masked figure lulls back at you.

“H-Hongjoong?.. Is that.. No, no no no,” you stammer out backing up from him but before you have the option to run he reaches out, grabbing you by shirt, pulling you to him, you stare back at him - rather the mesh covering his eyes - as your breathing picks up.

“Don’t you dare scream, understand me?” he tuts at you. All you can seem to do is nod at him.

Behind his mask all he can do is smirk “This is your fault baby, If you hadn’t been such a shameless slut, your friends would still be alive wouldn’t they?” He laughs spinning you around so your back now faces him as he brings the blood covered kitchen knife up to your throat, causing you to swallow thickly. “Y/n.. You’re gonna get your ass back in that house and pretend like you saw nothing, and maybe if for a change you’re a good girl..,” he coos, “You’ll get to live, yeah?” you nod softly.

You walk back into the house, by this point you realize everyone left, after getting the unsettling news regarding Seonghwa it puts a damper on the evening's festivities. You look around the living room noticing the absence of your friends, you breathe out a sigh of relief, slumping over the back of the couch as tears fall down your face, you are terrified and upset. You couldn’t help it, through your sobs you fail to notice the door opening behind you.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos at you, causing you to jump.

“Joong please…This isn’t you.. Is it the stupid fucking movies?” you hiss at him.

He smiles wickedly at you, “Baby..,” he walks up to you, holding onto your hips firmly, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “Those movies didn’t create me, they only gave me more creative ideas,” he smirks.

You stare back at him, San’s blood now dried on his face, now serving as a lingering memory of him. Hongjoong sees this, taking the tip of the knife, gently bringing your attention back to him, careful not to break skin.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he smirks, “He doesnt matter anymore, you’re mine - understood?” He can smell the fear as your tear-filled eyes stare back, the words caught in your throat.

“O-okay..,” you squeak out.

A sadistic smile spreads across his face as he lets you go, causing you to fall back onto the couch. “You know baby, you look so pretty like this…,” His knife runs down your clothed body, stopping at the top of your pants.

“You look terrified but you’re probably so fucking wet..,“ he chuckles out, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, this was a new side of him and you weren’t sure what it was but everytime his knife ghosted your skin, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Hongjoong… Why.. what did they do..,” you choke out, maintaining eye contact with his masked face.

“They got too close to what was rightfully mine,” He says sternly “and I can’t share you baby,” he smirks as one hand grips your waist as the other finds the button to your jeans

“Won't you be mine, Doll?” his face leans closer to yours, “you’ll never have to worry again,” he coos in your ear as you feel the button pop on your pants. “Because anyone who gets near you.. I’ll make them disappear.” he spits as his hand finds the wet spot on your underwear. “Seems I'm right… shameless fucking whore…” he snarls.

Your body seemingly betrays you as you moan out, arching into his touch, “H-Hongjoong, What are you doing?” You look up at the masked man. You get no response and he hurriedly removes your jeans, tossing them to the side.

“This entire time you’ve been sitting here, putting on a show for me, when in reality you like this..,” His knife grazes your clothed pussy causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Joongie… please,” you squirm under his gaze.

“A pussy so pretty I should mark my initials on it.. Let everyone know you belong only to me,” He punctuated as he used his blade to cut through the thin material of your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you as your underwear fell to the side leaving you exposed, his words only fueling your desire more.

Hongjoong drops to his knees in front of you removing the now useless fabric as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, making you squirm. He gives no warning before he latches onto your sensitive nub, causing you to arch into him immediately. He works his tongue expertly as you writhe beneath him, his arms coming up to wrap around your thighs in an attempt to make you stay still.

“J-Joong - ah fuck - feels so good,” you breathe out as your hand tangles in his hair. He smirks against your dripping cunt.

“That’s it Doll, lose yourself in me…,” he lulls out as he slips two fingers into you as he scissors you open with his fingers, you feel a heat building in your stomach, and he can tell by the way you flutter around his fingers. His tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you closer and closer and just as that band in your stomach is about to snap you feel him pull his fingers out and release your cunt with a soft pop.

“Fu-Fuck, Joong! No!” you whine out at him.

“Shh… I’d never leave my baby unsatisfied…,” he chuckles at you, standing back up he pulls you up to eye level with him. “There you are…,” he coos, resting a hand on your cheek before it moves to find purchase in your hair, his grip tightening to an almost painful level as he uses his grip to pull you with him as he sits down on the couch, dragging you down to straddle his lap.

“This is better, hmm?” His voice sounds almost condescending as he rolls his hips against yours as you whimper. “Hongjoong…pl-please.”

“Oh doll… I know you can do better than that.” you can hear the way his voice is coated in pleasure.

“Please, I need you so bad.. I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” you plead with the man, as he grabs the mask he left on the table behind you, slipping it on.

He smirks, making quick work of his pants as he pulls out his aching cock, shuddering at the friction. ”F-fuck doll, you don’t know what you’ve done to me.” he huffs out as he thrust into you causing you both to moan out, you sit there allowing both of you to gather yourselves. You start to rock your hips back and forth as small whimpers leave your mouth, driving him insane. He reached back around, grabbing at your hair and yanking it forcing your head back as a low moan escaped you. He looked up at you with hungry eyes, watching the faces you made. “That's my doll, look at you, making such pretty noises for me - ah-�� not gonna last like this,” he cries out, his hand sneaks between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing it in small circles causing you to cry out.

“That’s it doll… I’ve got you,” He coos as his thrust picks up speed to match his fingers as that band in your belly starts to form again. “Show me how much you love what I do to you, how much I have done for you…,” he growls at you, causing that band to snap, you cry out his name as you clench around him. At the same time his release coats your velvet walls as he throws his head back, he holds you in place as you both ride out your highs together.

As the fog in your brain clears, you look back at the masked man, you reach up, slowly taking it off him. He’s already staring back at you which causes you to flinch slightly, causing him to smile. He reaches up, moving strands of hair out of your face.

“No one else makes me feel this way,” he says softly, “you could rip my heart out of my chest and I’d still adore you,” you stare back at him, the Hongjoong you knew slipping back into your grasp. You reached up to caress his face, smiling softly.

“I wanna hear you say it,” he asks, barely above a whisper.

“I’m yours..,” you respond softly

“You’re mine.”

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 7 days ago

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Hiiiii!!!:]

Request for Logan x reader where they carve pumpkins and watch scary movies, or maybe they do a halloween night out or something!!

(I hope this isnt too "late" to request fall/halloween stuff)

I had too many ideas so this is like a 4+1 type of fic lol it can be for any Logan and it's gender neutral! Request are still open!

The 4 times Logan didn't want to participate and the one time he did

1. Going to the pumpkin patch

You basically had to drag Logan to the pumpkin patch. You woke up so excited, the weather was finally a nice cool and crisp real autumn morning and it was supposed to stay nice all day, so naturally you thought it would be a good day to finally go get your pumpkins. Logan thought differently.

The pumpkin patch wasn't his idea of a good time. There were little ones running around, parents weren't really watching their children, and the couples that were there were all matching. You tried to get Logan to wear a matching outfit with you. "Come on, it'll be cute!" he rolled his eyes at your argument and wore his regular flannel instead.

At least flannel is correlated with fall.

You picked out the pumpkins the two of you were going to carve. When you asked for his opinion, you were met with a shrug and his typical response; "get whatever you want, babe." Usually, it was a nice response. It was his way of telling you that he could buy you whatever you wanted. If you were torn between two different colors in sweaters, he would say that because technically, he could buy you all of the damn sweaters, and he knows you'll look amazing in whatever. However, this wasn't exactly a good response when there were hundreds of pumpkins to pick from.

You showed him the pumpkins were finally decided and he grabbed them for you before carrying them to the little counter to check out. You sighed, feeling a little defeated? a little guilty? You weren't sure what the emotion was that you were feeling. You just felt bad for dragging him to do something he obviously hated so much.

2. Carving pumpkins

You know the pumpkin patch was a failure, but you wanted to carve your pumpkins asap. As Logan drove the two of you home, you were looking up pumpkin carving inspirations, and by the time you did get home, you were practically buzzing in your seat.

You jumped out of the truck and grabbed one of the pumpkins, Logan chuckled as he watched you zoom from the truck to the front door, seemingly forgetting that he had the keys. He could tell you were pouting due to the door being locked still, so he trudged out of the truck to the front door. "Move over, sweetheart," He mumbled and wrapped his arm around your waist to move you aside so he could unlock the door for you.

Once you got inside, you put the pumpkins on the table and kissed Logan on the cheek. "Do you want to help carve the pumpkins?" You asked with puppy eyes that you know make it difficult for him to say no to. He just walked past you, and for a second, you thought he was going to the bedroom, but then you heard rummaging from the kitchen. Looking behind you, you see Logan coming back to the dining room table with a couple of knives, spoons, and paper towels.

He sits in silence and rolls his eyes when you just stay standing there. "Are you helping or not? I'm not carving two damn pumpkins by myself, " He grumbled as he started cutting the bottom off of one of the pumpkins so he could start degutting it.

You snapped out of the shock and nodded, "Let me go get a plate I want to save some seeds" You go to grab a plate, but he stops you by showing you a plate, "Cut open your damn pumpkin, will ya?"

The two of you could feel a smile starting to form, and you sat next to him to start degutting your own pumpkin.

3. Watching a scary movie

You wanted to make up for the other day. You really thought Logan would enjoy the pumpkin patch more than he did. Halloween and autumn were your favorite time of year, and you wanted to enjoy it with your man, so you were determined to find something he enjoyed about the season, too.

You figured a movie date night would be perfect! There is no need to leave the house. There wasn't even a real need to change out of your pajamas. You made pizza from scratch and even made the popcorn on the stove top; everything was prepared, and all Logan had to do was pick out a movie for the two of you to watch.

He ended up picking the creepiest movie you'd ever seen.

He didn't think much of it. Honestly, he remembered the movie coming out decades ago and got excited to resee it. "Oh, I haven't seen this since it first came out" He tried to sound nonchalant, but the excitement was clear in his voice. You looked over his shoulder to see the movie he had picked, and you froze.

Something had to be fucking with you, out of all the things this was what made Logan excited? Now you loved horror movies, but Rosemary's Baby??? no. You just couldn't handle that movie, but dammit he was so excited. You swallowed and nodded stiffly. "Sure Lo. Sounds great" He smiled and put it on before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Half the pizza is gone, the movie is about a quarter over and you were buried into Logan's shoulder. "Baby?" He asked with clear concern, "We can watch something else." He went to turn the movie off, but you jumped up before he could, "NO!" you let out a nervous giggle and shook your head, "It's just starting to get good, I really want to finish it"

You pulled him back to how he was and reached over to turn the movie back on, "You'll just have to protect me if I get too scared" you said teasingly, but you'd never been more serious before. He chuckled and held you closer than before. As the movie continued, you hid in his chest so he could enjoy his movie, and you could sleep tonight without having nightmares.

4. Going to get costumes

If you thought getting him to the pumpkin patch was hard, this was damn near impossible. You had to use threats, and he knows it's a bluff. It has to be a bluff. But he also knows you, and you are always true to your word, so he's too scared to risk it and just admits defeat.

He gets in the truck and drives you to the local Halloween store. You have him following you around like a puppy. He's honestly too afraid to lose you in this store. There's so many people and so much that they're selling. The store felt very claustrophobic to him, so he just sticks to you.

You pick out a couple's costume (it can be anything, but I like to think of a red riding hood and a wolf lol) and he groans aloud knowing you will have him wearing it for whatever party you drag him to.

As you check out, he listens to you ramble on about going to get tacos, and he just shakes his head and agrees to go get some. You're lucky he loves you so damn much

5. Passing out candy (the one time he was excited)

Today was finally Halloween and sadly you had to work until six, you told Logan the day before that you wouldn't be home in time for the beginning of trick or treating, but you will be home for the rest of it. You showed him exactly where the candy was since you had to hide it from him. "What do you mean you hid candy from me? I built this house there's nowhere to hide candy." He said, nearly pouting. It wasn't his fault he had a sweet tooth, and dammit he deserved some candy.

You clocked out as soon as you possibly could, and as you walked to your car, you went to text Logan, letting him know you were on your way home, but your phone was already dead. You sighed and decided to just head home before the streets got too busy with kids.

As you pull into your driveway, you can see the lights in the house on, and you can hear music playing. Confusing washes over you. With how Logan had been acting all month, you thought he would have the lights off and act like no one was home for trick or treating.

You walk to the door, and your heart swells with the sight in front of you. Logan hadn't noticed you walking in just yet. He was busy giving a toddler dressed up as Cinderella a sucker from the pumpkin bowl that had been sitting on the table completely empty this morning.

Not only did he put the candy meant to be passed out in a tacky looking pumpkin bowl, but he was also bent down to the kids' level to give them their candy. "Don't you look beautiful, princess!" He praised the little one who started giggling at the attention. As you walked closer to the man towering over the little ones, a gasp left your lips before you could think of holding it back. Logan Howlett, a man who acted like Halloween preparation, was torture was.... dressed up?

Tears were close to falling as he turned around. He acted as if nothing was going on, "Hey darlin' how was work?" He asked, closing the front door before walking over to you to kiss the crown of your head. "It-it was good." You stuttered slightly as you took his form in the costume fully in. "Your dressed up" you said, and he nodded "Well yeah, you bought us the costumes" He shrugged, "I thought you wanted me to be dressed up, the kids have been loving it but I did scare a toddler earlier" He frowned deeply "I gave them extra candy." He explained and looked at the bowl that was close to being empty, "Well I've been giving them all extra candy. They've been great costumes, though!" He tried to defend his actions, making you laugh.

"I'll go get my costume on, and you can tell me what I missed while we wait for me, kids." You said as you went to the bedroom to change. When you came out, his heart skipped a beat. To him, you were just so perfect.

For the rest of the night, he sat on the porch with you and filled you in on the costumes you'd missed earlier in the night.

That night, you realized something, Logan may not be excited to do many things that you loved to do, but he would do anything for you.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

I think the taglist is updated? Lmk if it isn't and I'll add you! This taglist is just for Logan!! I'm planning on starting to write for Bucky again so lmk if I should make a taglist for him as well <3

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fluff #wolverine #wolverine fluff #wolverine x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett imagine #james logan howeltt #logan howlet #halloween imagine #logan howlett x gn reader #logan howlett x female reader #logan howlett x male reader #logan howlett fanfic #logan wolverine #wolverine imagine

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mydearzero · 1 year ago

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bday sex w/ spencer?

thanks for the request! ♡♡

Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.7K words

take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik

"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour.

"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans.

Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.

"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat.

You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building.

Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!'

"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy.

She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now.

You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room.

Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday.

"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face.

When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed.

The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.

"Surprise!"

Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group.

Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head.

You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.

Happy Birthday Sexy!

Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess.

And it's not wrong.

You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle.

Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!"

Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words.

"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.

"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders.

"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine."

You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight.

You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part.

You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake.

Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation.

The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party.

Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer.

Intrigued?

Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present.

Calculating, maybe?

Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences.

It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps.

Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching.

You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo.

She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions.

"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss."

She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye.

"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder.

"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged.

Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up."

"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely.

"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it."

"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight.

"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing.

"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue.

"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it.

"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind."

You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted.

"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."

Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.

You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said.

You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them.

Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer.

"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch.

"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look.

He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you.

"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication.

His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?"

"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.

"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive."

Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.

"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.

Lust.

Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away.

"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding.

"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction.

He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours."

Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment.

"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping.

"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in.

Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks.

"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for.

He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit.

"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!"

He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls.

When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop."

You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.

"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.

"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right.

"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged.

"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open.

"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head.

"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor.

He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers.

"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock.

"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence.

You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions.

He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face.

"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline.

"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear.

"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt.

"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.

"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that.

Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation.

Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside."

"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now."

"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued.

"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move.

"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you.

"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.

"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in.

"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch.

Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours.

"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke.

"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane."

Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure.

Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss.

"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer.

"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good.

"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm.

"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned.

"O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax.

He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that.

When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over.

You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you.

"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.

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harryspet · 10 months ago

Note

can u plsss do something where reader keeps noticing dark rafe always looking at her at the gym and then he follows her out one night w noncon 🙏🏾

[warnings] dark!gymbro!rafe x reader, NONCON sex, little editing READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 1.1k

When a brand new gym was built near your apartment complex, you knew you had no excuse but to start going on a regular basis. Despite how scared you were of the gym bros and pilates princesses, you pushed yourself to start. First, you attended the group workout classes to get yourself comfortable. Slowly, you started using all of the other gym equipment.

Once you started going to the gym after work, you got even more comfortable with working out in the presence of others. Sometimes you were even brave enough to start conversations with other girls who were working out by themselves. You still considered it a time for you to decompress, and often, you listened to music or podcasts for the entire time.

As you got into a routine, you started to notice the gym attendees who were always there when you were. You started to differentiate the people you saw on the weekend versus those you saw during the weekends. There was one attendee in particular you began to notice more and more. Whenever you were at the gym, he seemed to be there too. He was always there before you, and he was often still working out when you were leaving.

At first, it wasn’t an irrational thought to believe he spent a lot of time there. His upper body was no laughing matter, in fact, he almost looked dangerous when he was lifting in front of the mirror. Short dark blonde hair and empty blue eyes often greeted you whenever you were trying to mind your own business. At first, you thought it was a coincidence because why would someone like that take an interest in you?

Besides that, he’d never spoken to you. Unsuccessfully, you tried to tune him out. There were always eyes lingering on you while you walked on the treadmill or when you were grabbing weights from the rack. As you grew more comfortable with your body, you started buying cute workout sets, ones that hugged your curves. The staring only increased, making you feel conflicted about your choice.

He was not at all your type. You’d never been with a muscular type of guy, and you’d feel quite intimidated by someone like that. Deliberately, you started wearing jackets and sweatshirts again.

There was a grocery store also near your apartment, and you’d often stop by after your workout. One night, you noticed him standing near the bakery section, gray hoodie over his head, as you were looking through the smoothies in the fresh produce section.

You debated going up to him and just saying hello to put yourself at ease, but when you turned around again, he was gone. You carried your few bags of groceries back to your apartment, listening to one of your favorite podcasts and fantasizing about the relaxing bath you were going to take.

Like always, you used your key fob to enter your apartment. With your arms being occupied, you kicked the door to close it, before heading into the kitchen. When all your groceries were placed on the counter, you took off your headphones, immediately hearing your door click shut. You turned around to see a dark figure standing at the entrance of your door.

You took in a sharp breath and immediately stepped back. As you recognized that hoodie, the horror began to truly set in. When he pulled off the hoodie and revealed those dark eyes, you couldn’t stop the scream that your body released.

As he lunged towards you, your eyes darted to the knife block sitting on the counter. You charged towards the knives as he grabbed ahold of your waist, lifting you away from the counter. Before you could scream again, he pressed his hand into your mouth, muffling the sound.

Desperately, you kicked and bit down on his hand. He groaned as he through you down on your living room couch, “Shit,” He cursed, but he was already pinning you down onto the couch, “Scream, and I-I swear I will kill you.”

He wrapped a strong hand around your throat and pinned your lower body down with the weight of his body, “I’m serious. Before anyone came for you or before anyone could call the police. Do you want to die?” You quieted your strangled cries, staring up at him with teary eyes, “Good. I don’t want to do that. You’re so pretty …I would hate to have to …”

His voice was deep and raspy, only adding to your fear, “Y/N … beautiful angel Y/N … my name is Rafe,” All you could ask yourself was why he would give you his name. Why would he show you his face if he was going to leave you alive. Laying helpless beneath him, you felt your odds dwindling away, “This gorgeous body is all mine, right? You don’t mind if I … see more of it, do you?”

He kept his grip on your neck as he pulled up your sports bra, freeing your breasts. With his free hand, he grabbed and kneaded at the sensitive area. He felt and pinched until your nipples were standing at attention, “I knew you’d have such pretty titties …” You watched his lips pull into a smile, “But you know what? I bet your pussy is even prettier.”

You were caught off guard when Rafe released your neck. As you gasped and struggled for air, he lifted himself off of you, grabbing your waist and pulling your lower half off of the couch. You were bent over the furniture as Rafe again gained control of you, his hand gripping the back of your neck as he pushed you into the furniture.

He was kneeling beside you, his fingers beginning to trace the folds of your pussy through your leggings. You squirmed in his grasp, feeling every detail of his finger through the thin material, “Shit, I need you, baby,” He groaned, “I need you so bad.”

Abruptly, he ripped open your leggings, causing you to beg, “Please, please, don’t.”

“I’m so hard for you; I need you,” You felt even more humiliated when you heard him spit into his hand and as he pressed it into your exposed area. You felt him moving behind you before he held your hips tightly in place, and you felt his tip against your entrance, “You need me too, don’t you? All these weeks I’ve been watching you, you’ve never had anyone over. You need that pretty pussy filled, huh?”

Rafe’s words were hasty, panicked almost, like he truly couldn’t control himself, “Please, Rafe, w-we can take it slow,” You tried, but he began to hush you.

“I’m sorry,” You heard him say as he pushed into you; your body did its best to stretch around him, “I’m so sorry, I …I have to have you, baby.”

send dark rafe ideas

#send dark!rafe thoughts #darkfic #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron

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theplumsoldier · 1 year ago

Text

loverboy

summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him

pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader

word count: 4,2k

warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!

"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."

He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.

It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.

And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.

Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."

Phrasing.

Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.

"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"

You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."

"Yeah."

You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.

"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"

It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.

You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.

You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.

His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.

His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.

Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.

"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"

Fuck.

"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"You have a girlfriend!"

Oh.

"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.

Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.

He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.

You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"

When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.

"We broke up."

What?

Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.

"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."

Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"

Again, he looked despondent.

"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"

It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.

Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.

Fuck.

It's over, he thought to himself.

Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."

His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.

"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.

"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."

Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"

"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"

"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."

So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.

"So do it," you finally tested.

If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.

"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.

Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.

Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.

Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.

You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.

Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.

"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"

You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.

"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."

Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.

His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.

"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.

Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.

"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.

"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.

"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."

Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.

"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.

"You live close to Maygrey?"

No.

"Yeah."

The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.

Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.

Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.

Of course you invited him up. How could you not?

Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.

"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."

He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.

Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.

How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.

You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.

He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.

Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.

Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.

Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.

He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"

You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."

For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.

"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"

You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."

He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."

There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.

In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.

You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.

Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.

Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.

Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.

"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.

When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.

"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.

After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.

"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.

His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."

As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.

"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.

Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.

A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.

A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.

He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.

His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.

"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."

Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.

"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.

Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.

He was perfect.

Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.

"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.

Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.

You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.

Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.

With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.

"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.

He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.

Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.

You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.

You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.

You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.

His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.

Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."

You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.

The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.

"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.

Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.

He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.

You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.

"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.

You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."

"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"

"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.

You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.

You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.

"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.

The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.

You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.

Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.

A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.

What am I going to do with you?

#theplumsoldier #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear carmy #the bear #jeremy allen white #the bear fx

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