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thatsdemko · 5 months

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unknown - m.verstappen

masterlist | pairing: max verstappen x Hamilton!fem!reader. summary: when an unknown number comes across his phone, max can’t help but discover who’s sent him the image he can’t erase from his mind. warnings: 18+ + fingering (f receiving) + mentions of nudity + fluff (at the end). a/n: I want to give a huge shoutout to @monzabee for always being my inspiration to finish my smut, but also for convincing me to read twisted games (this ones inspired by that xx)

unknown

attachment: 1 image

the pinging sound distracts him from the current game on his television. pausing for a quick second, max glances at the unknown number and slides the message open as curiosity struck him.

unknown

can you see my nipples through this?

Max’s phone nearly drops into his lap at the second message. he barely got the chance to even open the image, the second message was far too appalling and his hands got too slippery from the precipitation building around him.

“max! come on!” the chatter from his headset snaps his attention from the black phone screen in his lap. red slips across his cheeks as he apologizes quickly for the distraction, and continues on like nothing happened.

though he couldn’t lie, the curiosity of the image was certainly looming around him. what was the person wearing? could he see said nipples? he couldn’t help but try to sneak peaks at his phone whenever he got the chance before the stream ended.

finally free from his friends, max slides open his phone and his breath sucks inward. you could definitely see your nipples through the sheer linen tight white top. in fact, if it weren’t for your underwear, you could see the very outline of your vagina.

fuck. max was unsure to text back. if he did, what would he even say? there was no clear indication on who it was sending the message. he didn’t recognize the number, and on top of that there was no face. the image was purely just the outfit.

max verstappen

a bra would be appropriate.

your heart fell about five stories down, and right into the pit of your gut. shit, you didn’t send the message to your friends. instead, you mistook the ID you tapped on for one of them, and it turned out to very clearly be your brothers rival: max verstappen.

unknown

don’t mention this to Lewis.

max verstappen

secret is safe with me.

while this made perfectly good blackmail, max had nothing against you. you were completely innocent and most likely too stupid to notice you tapped his phone number instead. he’d never utter a word to Lewis, and the photo would die with max whenever the time may be.

max verstappen

where are you headed looking like that?

y/n Hamilton

your moms house.

max stifled out a chuckle unable to believe that you were born by the same parents as Lewis. when it came to humor, Lewis used it very minimal, but from the select times max had spoken to you, you were the complete opposite. meditation was joke, veganism was impossible to follow, and driving at fast speeds was too boring. y/n hamilton was every opposite of her brother.

max verstappen

I think my house is a better place for that

your heart somehow jumped back into its place, attempting to thump its way out of its cavity. max could easily be joking, he could easily be serious, but either way you shouldn’t go. max was probably not interested in women like you, and sure the photo might’ve tipped the scales in your favor, but you weren’t really into vanilla sex like he could offer.

y/n Hamilton

you wish I was headed to your place like this.

max verstappen

I do.

fuck. you close your eyes, letting your fingers type the message and hit send before you can even have a single regret. max might be your opposite in the bedroom, but you can’t help but wonder what he’s got up his sleeve.

y/n Hamilton

I’m free right now.

—

twenty minutes later his soft lips are leaving trails down your neck, his fingers work the buttons of the top that sickened his soul into this. he was careful not rip the material, but he was so the opposite of careful when his lips wrapped around your nipple.

his tongue and teeth graze the sensitive skin while you melt against his mattress into a puddle.

you were so wrong about him. oh so so, wrong.

he’d practically ripped that white shirt to shreds the second you entered his place. his tongue was a dominate force, shoved down your throat, his lips were passionate and full of eager. vanilla sex was so not max. you could write pages about him, no fantasy or book explored the way max did.

his fingers. oh gosh, they could write stories about how delicate, and soft they were. how they expanded your folds and had you clenching around nothing. they worked wonders— magic perhaps, pumping at such a fast speed you didn’t have time to react feeling him floor you until every drop of you was around him.

“these,” his tongue swipes across your breast, lips wrapping around the tip of your nipple, sucking you like a baby its thumb. it was relaxing, gut twisting, and chilling. he left you panting, begging, and still he wasn’t finished. no ounce of him showed signs of stopping.

when finally he was done toying, done with whatever ‘warmup’ he claimed this to be, his large cock filled you, warmth overtook with pleasure when you felt his hips grind yours. the rhythm was nothing like his fingers, nothing like how his tongue moved on your skin, it was slow. he was slow, like he were to savor every moment of this.

you clench, you squeal, beg, whatever could come from you as noise. nothing was coherent, and max liked that. in fact, it quickened his pace with a smirk as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and moan his name.

“you’re taking it well.” his voice is raspy, husk and faint. a moan rippled through your body at the sound of him, you could feel butterflies unleash in the warmth of your stomach as you cry out and come on his cock.

“you’re different than I expected you to be.” you say watching him roll to the pillow beside you, his blue eyes fixed on yours, they still have that hunger in them that turns you on.

“when you wear a top like that,” his breath sucks inward, a simple shake of his head at the newest dirty ideas floating in his mind, “I can’t control myself.”

a breathy chuckle escapes your lips as you curl your body into his, perfectly molding together, “I guess I’m glad I ditched the girls for you.”

a smile stretches across his lips that he carefully plants on your forehead, “thanks for the text, I hope to receive more in the future.”

“you earned yourself a spot on speed dial.”

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beelmons · 1 year

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Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2

Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz

Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking.

"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek.

"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied.

His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch."

Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them.

This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit.

"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout.

"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.”

From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot.

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece.

“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased.

“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.”

You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid.

“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member.

“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.”

The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments.

“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.

“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance.

Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered.

“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you.

“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice.

You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response.

Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards.

You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation.

“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say.

“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt.

“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards.

The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else.

You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed.

Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again.

“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.

“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up.

“I’ve got enough.” he clarified.

“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.

Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table.

“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated.

The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings.

“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said.

Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek.

“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.

“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak.

“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way.

Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him.

You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter.

“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.”

Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer.

“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you.

“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?”

You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit.

You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended.

“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly.

His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.

“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.”

You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance.

His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short.

“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.”

His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised.

His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts.

One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips.

“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured.

He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared.

“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.”

Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it.

You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it.

“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over.

Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him.

“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.

“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool.

“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand.

On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat.

The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions.

This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask.

“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table.

It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture.

You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt.

“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed.

“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out.

“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added.

“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.”

“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.

The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back.

You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly.

The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains.

“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?”

Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well.

“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card.

Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release.

“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay”

You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.

Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again.

“14.” the older man said.

A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter.

“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans.

“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly.

Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it.

Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added.

“20.” Hotch said again.

The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance.

“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath.

Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win.

“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed.

Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell.

“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch.

Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.

“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you.

You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas.

Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face.

“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release.

“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides.

“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back.

“Hit me.” you said once again.

Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.

Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.”

Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean.

“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.”

“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.

Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won.

However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,

“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.

The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained.

“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him.

He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close.

He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air.

“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control.

Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth.

The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated.

Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID.

“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek.

Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue.

“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.”

You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest.

“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down.

“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone.

“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming.

“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?”

The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt.

“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers.

“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.”

As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin.

You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle.

“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded.

“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you.

“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.”

Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.

“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said.

Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him.

“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him.

“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement.

“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor.

Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush.

You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun.

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larriescompass · 2 months

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ways to dispel gay rumors, according to louis tomlinson and harry styles:

1. write a love song, and include the place where you and your enemy lived together.

2. constantly walk away from your at the time girlfriend of nine years.

3. struggle to hold hands with and kiss your at the time girlfriend of several years.

4. repeatedly say ‘no’ when asked if you and your girlfriend are engaged.

5. but do say, ‘it’s confidential, but we’re already engaged,’ when asked when you are gonna propose to your best mate.

6. say you have a crush on your best mate, and that you’ve discussed it and say that it’s mutual.

7. when asked if the rumor is true, smile fondly and say yes.

8. when your best mate is talking about finding someone they would want to date, cough really obviously and loudly.

9. choose to play a song on your tour, where the first word has major involvement with the rumor.

10. when asked about the rumor, turn into a horse.

11. deny the rumor while emphasizing the word ‘obviously’ and MAKE SURE to be very sarcastic.

12. dress up rainbow bears on stage that represent gay artists.

13. dress up said rainbow bears in wedding outfits on stage with a picture positioned in front of it of a man named larry, while signing the photo with the words “love, larry.”

14. when you see something involving the rumor, give it a thumbs up!

15. get matching tattoos.

16. go to amsterdam with your wonderful girlfriend at the time, then come back and write a song where the first line is, “i went to amsterdam without you,”

17. having to adjust your pants because your best mate’s shirt popped open.

18. when your “mate” asks to give you a blowjob, respond with “i’d love it, if you’d just wait.”

19. when asked about your favorite traits in a female, say “not that important” about the person being a female.

20. look depressed whenever someone mentions your child.

21. cover a song where the main objective of the song is to be the girl just so you could be with the guy.

22. get a tattoo that you know people will link to the person involving the rumor.

23. dress up as queer idols for halloween.

24. go to gay bars.

25. bring your girlfriends to gay bars.

26. cook a meal for your girlfriend even though you didn’t even know her when you cooked it, and she was vegan at that time.

27. make a dopey fonding face while you’re staring at your best mate.

28. sexually tease each other on stage.

29. while your best mate is hyping himself up and says while referring to himself, “that’s just sex on legs,” agree and say, “yeah it is,” while giving him love eyes.

30. at your solo concert, point to a replica of the rainbow bear in the crowd that you and your best mate dressed up on stage.

31. change the lyrics of your song from “i love it” to “i love him.”

32. you must wear a vintage umbro t shirt that is very rare, and make sure to have your best mate show up wearing the same vintage rare umbro shirt just a few months later.

33. go completely MIA while your best mate has his off season, and pop back up in public when he goes back on tour.

34. host your own festival and have an artist with a song named “you’re not harry styles” perform during it.

35. consistently use colored lights that are heavily associated with the rumor during your concerts.

36. use art of your “totally platonic” friend’s tattoo for the spotify background of one of your songs.

37. do a photoshoot with clothes from a gay clothing brand that dates back to the fifties.

38. go to the same euros game and make sure to be seen in the same room together.

39. bite your best mate’s back after you deny the gay rumors.

40. look at your best mate and sing “i’m in love with lou, and all his little things” in a totally normal and platonic way.

#i wrote this like two years ago #then i added more #now i’m posting it iahdisjdjd #hl #harry styles #louis tomlinson #one direction #faith in the future #larry stylinson #larry is real

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vax-merstappen · 9 months

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F1 boys on a date with you <3

these posts are so long to scroll past so i added a keep reading line just for convenience, hope you don't mind

Lando Norris

Lando was thrilled when he discovered you liked gaming as much as he did. An ideal date night for the both of you was spent playing games together for most of the night. You both get competitive when it comes to games so every time you beat him at Mario Kart, you love to brag about it. That usually ends in him holding you and tickling you and eventually you both kissing and snuggling.

Oscar Piastri

Oscar, being an introvert, would love to spend a cozy and private night in with you. He would love to snuggle up in a blanket with you and watch one of your favorite movies together. Some drinks and takeout food would complete the night and you two would stay cozy together until you inevitably fall asleep holding each other in the early hours in the morning.

Max Verstappen

Max loves to spoil you and take you shopping, even though you insist that you can buy things yourself. He loves to see your excitement when you enter your favorite stores and just wants to make his girl happy by treating her to something he knows she will love. At the end of the day, you treat Max to a fashion show of all the clothes you picked out and Max can’t keep his eyes off his beautiful girlfriend and how radiant you look.

Charles Leclerc

Nothing says Charles like a date on his boat in Monaco. He takes such pride in his country and would want to show you the most beautiful views of the city from the perfect vantage point of the sea. He would make sure every detail of your boating day was planned and perfect. You would stay together on the sea until the sun went down and you could stargaze while laying on the boat’s deck.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos likes the focus to be on you during dates, as it is not often you two get to spend a lot of time together. He prefers to keep dates simple so he can keep his attention on you and really connect with each other. A coffee shop date would be a perfect time for you and Carlos to really connect and share your love for each other. It would be super cute and you would beg Carlos to come back to the shop again the next day.

Lewis Hamilton

He would want nothing but the best for the two of you and would splurge to get you both a private table at a fancy vegan restaurant in the city. You would have great and meaningful conversations over delicious food and drinks. Lewis would make it a night to remember and you would have a romantic walk around the city at night after you had finished your meal.

Daniel Ricciardo

Danny is a very adventurous person and always loves taking you to new and exciting places. You would go on a hike date together to spend some quality time in nature. Daniel and you would laugh and have fun making your way down the trail and would enjoy each other’s company to the fullest. At the end, a scenic sunset picnic would finish off the night and you and Daniel would have memories for life.

Yuki Tsunoda

Yuki is as passionate about food as he is about spending time with you. He would take you on a tour of his favorite restaurants around the city and show you where to find all of the best sushi. You would stay out together long into the night, savoring each other as well as the flavors. Finally, Yuki would take you to the top of one of the buildings with the best views and you would share a romantic moment high above the rest of the city.

Alex Albon

There is nothing you and Alex like more than spending a day together at the beach. There would of course be moments spent together on the shore, sipping drinks or spent watching the sunset at the end of the day. The most fun, however, would be swimming in the water together, having splash fights and being goofy together in the sea.

Logan Sargeant

You and Logan had been reminiscing about going to the fair as a child, so how perfect would it be to take a trip together? Logan and you spent time together on the Ferris Wheel along with the Tilt a Whirl, laughing when you were dizzy getting off of the ride. The night would finish with a funnel cake and both of you trying your best to win one of the giant stuffed animals from a game that both of you were pretty sure was rigged against you.

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 preference #oscar piastri x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x reader #max verstappen x reader

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werecreature-addicted · 1 year

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🥲 i cant stop thinking abt reducing a werewolf who’s in heat to a begging mess. like listen he js wants to fuck you and you won’t let him?? but he’s been such a good boy?? he’d start whining and whimpering like a puppy. ears laid back, he’s so desperate for you. so you agree to let him fuck you on one condition : he has to use his muzzle. last time he got a little bit too excited and started biting a little too hard. so now he has two options, he gets to fuck you with a muzzle on, or he doesn’t get anything at all.

he thinks it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to mark you. but eventually he accepts your conditions, but he’s whining about how it’s not gonna be the same. while he’s fucking you, poor baby is panting and drooling all over himself, begging you to take it off, he needs to mark you. you manage to remind him that greedy boys don’t get anything and he just starts going faster, to the point where none of you is able to form a coherent sentence. his mind is hazy, but he takes a mental note to get rid of that damn muzzle.

Listen listen listen. Your werewolf is torn, he never wants to hurt you and is absolutely destroyed that he went too far and hurt you the last time you two had sex. It’s all of his worst fears come true! He really is nothing but a monster driven by instincts telling him to chase carnal pleasures. He thought he meant it when he promised he’d never hurt you. Every time he looks at the heald mark on your neck it makes his stomach turn. He’s so worried you’ll leave him over this…that he’ll lose his mate because he couldn’t control himself. He needs to be coaxed into even touching you again. Sex is almost completely off the table…almost.

He’s still human- well he’s not but you know what I mean. He still has desires. Your touch still sends jolts of electricity down his spine, your smell alone is still enough to get him hot. He tries his best to satiate his needs with just kissing and dry humping. Although. It’s hard to enjoy anything when he’s fighting against his animalistic urges telling him to just mount you already. You like rough sex, you like how big and sometimes scary he can be, so what’s the problem? Marking feels good- at least for him, it does. And wouldn’t you want to make your wolf feel good? And who cares if you’re scared of his monstrous side? It’s not like you can run from him, you both know he could track you down where ever you ran off to.

Those monstrous thoughts scared him a little bit. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he also knew he needed to keep you as his, he wondered which one of those desires would come out on top if push came to shove.

It doesn’t take long for his more carnal desires to win out. He’s begging for his attention and pleading for you to let him have you again. It’s been almost two full weeks since the incident and he’s pretty sure people can die from going that long without sex. He’ll do anything- and he’ll promise anything if you just let him have you. You don’t even need to do anything he’ll do all the work- he’s strong enough to use you like a Fleshlight you both know that

This is where you bring up the muzzle. It’s special. Made for werewolves so they can’t escape even with their strength. He agrees immediately! Then regrets it… again he’s torn. This is good… he can’t hurt you this way but god he hates this fucking muzzle. He can’t even kiss you like this, don’t you see how cruel this is? It’s just his nature. It’s like asking him to go Vegan.

He knows that you’ll soil him with kisses once he’s calm again. Hell, he knows that you’ll probably let him bite you if he’s careful- but all those thoughts are background noise as he listens to you whine and moan. You take his cock so well- you take his teeth even better. He loves you with all his heart and werewolves show love by biting.

He snarls to himself and gnashes his teeth behind the cage you put him in. he watches a bead of sweat drip down your neck and he mashes the grate against your skin and struggles to lick you. The muzzle digs in his face as he pushes its limits but he doesn’t care, he manages to lick the sweat from your skin and he shudders in pleasure.

Once he does calm down you let him out of the muzzle and kiss him senseless. He feels better… he didn’t hurt you this time at least. But part of him wants to throw out that stupid cage.

#werewolf #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster imagine #werewolf boyfriend #werewolves #monster #werewolf smut #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader

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ivystoryweaver · 1 year

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With You part 6

<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Will you always have to wake up in the middle of the night just to get to know Jake? Marc and Steven notice your yearning to see Jake again.

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, complicated relationship stuff, cursing, angst, sex but the language is not overly explicit and nothing gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

One of the delicious advantages of being with Marc was that he liked to bury his angst, longing and inadequacies inside your body. Perhaps fucking through his feelings wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was better than drinking, and cheaper than therapy.

That's not to say Marc didn't see a therapist - he did, pretty regularly. But being inside you felt so much better than unearthing the shit from his childhood.

That's where you found yourself now, face down on the mattress, Marc's strong chest pressed to your back. Your sweat-soaked bodies writhed in tormented bliss as he thrust in and out of you - hard and almost frustratingly slow.

His thick fingers pushed their way through yours, intertwining, pressing your hands high above your head as he twisted his body deeper into yours.

You were helpless beneath him. And you loved it.

Marc was able to control so few things about his existence. The use of your body was one thing you happily and trustingly put completely in his control.

You and Marc did make soup together for dinner, but no matzah balls were harmed in the making of the soup. It was hearty enough for Marc, but also vegan for Steven. You made a mental note ask Jake what kind of food he liked.

"I don't think Jake's a vegan," Marc spoke up, reading your mind. "I think he's the reason my sandwiches are gone half the fuckin' time."

Marc and his sandwiches. He had sworn up and down, on more than one occasion, that either you or Steven had eaten his damn roast beef sandwiches. You always denied it, preferring turkey to beef. And Steven always fired back with, "Y'know I don't eat that shite, mate."

"Oh my god, I think you just solved a mystery," you marveled. The Mystery of the Roast Beef Sandwich and its thief.

Yeah, Marc wondered what else Jake was prone to stealing. Clothes? Money? You?

Then again, Marc couldn't really say anything about money at the moment. He didn't have a job, unless he counted the occasional times he fronted during Steven's university library shift. You were the breadwinner, at least for the time being, lovingly supporting Steven in getting a degree to actually match up to his intellect.

But sharing you? Was it even sharing if it was the same body? And was it even his business if you wanted to be with Jake? He had no fucking clue. All he knew was that you were about to be his spouse. Steven's too, really. But you barely knew Jake. How could you marry someone you didn't know?

"I can hear you thinking," you teased, slathering some fresh-baked bread with butter. "Wanna talk about it? Cause I don't think I can go anymore rounds today - between you and Steven." Meaning Marc wouldn't be able to bury his worries inside you until your body got a damn break.

"Do you mean between me and Steven and Jake?" Marc pointedly asked.

You dropped the butter knife. "W-what?" You squawked. "I haven't slept with Jake."

"But...you want to." Easing beside you, Marc leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Do you?"

You reallly should have spouted off a quick 'no'. But you hesitated.

"Shit," he groaned. "I shoulda known."

"I didn't say anything!" You protested, a little too innocently.

"Exactly," Marc huffed. "You didn't deny it."

"You kind of put me on the spot," you defended, retrieving the knife and returning to your task, furiously coating a slice of bread with five times too much butter. "Besides, Jake drives me crazy. If he climbs in the damn window again, I think I might shove him right back out."

"Ah, hell, it's worse than I thought," Marc grumbled, folding his toned arms over his chest in a distinct, defiant pout.

"How is it worse?" You scoffed. "And...what is worse?"

"You... him... shit," he sighed. "He got to you."

"He didn't," you protested. "Nothing happened. N-not really..." your voice trailed off as Marc's eyes flashed with possessiveness.

"Not really? I thought you said he didn't touch you. What the hell..." He paused, glancing at his reflection in the microwave.

"Is that Steven?" You interrupted, barging in to what you usually respected as private conversation between the boys. "What is he saying?"

Fixing his eyes back on you, Marc smirked triumphantly. "He's saying you look 'a bit flustered,' which would make sense, since you wore those black satin pj's and set your alarm just to see 'that mysterious bloke'."

"Steven, you are such a traitor!" You whined. "You guys are ganging up on me! I just wanted to talk to him."

"Mm-hmm," Marc hummed, caging you in against the counter with one arm on either side of your body. "So that's all you did - talk? In black satin? In the middle of the night?"

Narrowing your eyes, you called his bluff. "You guys are really obsessed with those pj's. Maybe you would have preferred I only wore your t-shirt? Or, I could have slept the way I sleep with you half the time - in nothing."

"Sure, mm-hmm," Marc playfully nodded down at you, mockingly agreeing with every word out of your mouth.

"Besides," you added, giving his chest a playful shove, "who knows how many times Jake has come home and found me like that - then slept beside me anyway?"

Marc went dead silent.

"I'm gonna kill him," he decided, waiting just a beat before scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, spinning you around the kitchen playfully. "First him..." you squealed as he tickled your side, feeling a mixture of giddiness and dizziness as he manhandled you, "then you. And then him again."

"Marc, put me down, put me down!" you giggled delightedly, banging your fists on his back.

After a few more twirls, and howls of laughter from you, he conceded, steadying you back against the counter. The two of you were smiling, breathless... his strong arms caged you in again as he wet his lips with his tongue.

Ducking down, he pressed his body into yours, breathing hotly against your open mouth.

"Promise me something..." he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip and swiping his tongue inside your mouth. He pulled back just a little, teasing you.

"What?" you impatiently demanded, chasing after his lips.

Sliding one hand around the back of your neck, he crushed his lips to yours, giving you what you really wanted. Gripping your jaw, he slid his tongue over yours, licking hotly as you groaned in satisfaction. You could never get tired of kissing this man.

"Promise me," he finally whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. "Promise you'll tell me if something does happen - with Jake, I mean."

Easing back, he stared down into your eyes - his own warm, brown gaze pleading. "I know you don't have to. It-it's not my business, really, but..."

Sighing reluctantly, he poured his heart out to you. He knew he was safe with you - safe to show you what he really felt inside. "It's not like Steven," he admitted. "I don't know Jake. I just...I don't want anything to happen to you."

Nodding quickly, you reached up to caress his face. "Marc, of course. You're going to be my husband - of course I would tell you that."

"Really?" His eyes sparkled with relief and love.

"Yes, really," you sweetly whispered. "And I know there's no part of you that could ever hurt me."

After all that fuss with Steven and Marc, and the damn black satin pajamas, you actually thought you might see Jake again soon - particularly since he had finally introduced himself to his alters.

You thought wrong.

Jake went back to being Jake, not interacting with you or Marc or Steven, and the three of you were none the wiser about how he spent his time.

You couldn't wreck your entire sleep schedule just to look for him every night. He clearly had no intention of interacting with you during waking hours. You tried very hard not to take it personally. After all, you barely knew one another. But Steven and Marc could tell you thought of him...worried after him.

"I think you should wait up for him one night, love," Steven suggested one evening as you sat cuddled on the couch, reading together. London was being London again. The heavens had opened, dumping cold, wet rain for hours, and creating the perfect, candlelit night in for you and Steven.

Glancing over at your fiancé, so adorable in his oversized jumper, your eyebrows knit together questioningly. "You mean, set my alarm? 'Ambush' him again?"

Reaching up to pull his reading glasses off his nose, Steven shrugged. "Don't think it's much of an ambush, really. Just lovely you wanting to talk, is all. No harm in that."

Smiling warmly, you reached for his hand. "I don't think he sees me quite the way you do, my love."

"Not very bright then, is he? Running 'round at all hours for the old bird, missing the chance to come home to a wonder like you."

"Steven," you gasped, grinning at him. "Talking like that is going to bring an end to our night of reading very quickly."

"Fine by me, darling," he chuckled, tossing his book aside without even bothering to mark the page - something Steven never did. "Because I'm not the dimwitted bloke ignoring what's right in front of me." Scooting closer, he pulled you into his arms. "His loss is my gain, I'd say. Have you all the more to m'self."

So it was decided.

You would wait up for Jake (or wake up -whichever) to see if he wanted to interact with you, and ask how he was doing. It was possible, and in your mind, likely, that he didn't want to be a part of your life. But you wanted to hear it from his own mouth, especially since he slept beside you - in your bed, in your home.

Despite your general apprehension, you decided to be your most normal self and sleep (or in this case, stay awake) in one of Marc's white undershirts - they were so soft and smelled so deliciously like him. Steven's fuzzy goldfish socks found their way to your freezing feet.

You took a long nap and drank a huge cup of coffee (made perfectly by Marc) before bed. You were determined to stay up and see how Jake typically began his nighttime routine. He always ninja'd around like some sort of Father Christmas - waiting til everyone was completely asleep before darting in and out of the flat.

It would be your luck that Jake probably wouldn't even front tonight, and your caffeinated body would stare at your sleeping fiancé for the next several hours.

At first, it was difficult to resist cuddling up with your sleepy Steven. He did manage to adorably whine that he needed you, but you quickly reminded him that this was his idea.

"Just miss you 's all," he murmured, drifting off to dreamland.

You got bored very quickly. Steven had recommended a podcast called, 'Welcome to Staying Awake.' Finding some headphones, you tried it out, following the directions it suggested - reading, solving a puzzle, and so forth.

You were just starting to doze in the comfy chair in the bedroom's corner when your fiancé stirred...only to roll over and fall back asleep.

"Ugh..." you huffed, pushing off your chair to head to the kitchen. After a quick splash of water to the face and a long drink of water, you stumbled back to your bedroom...

...where you saw Steven? pulling a pair of tailored black trousers up his legs - his cozy pj's nowhere in sight. Fastening his pants, he turned around - shirtless - nodding once to acknowledge you.

"Jake?" You tentatively greeted, breaking the late-night silence.

"Hola, mi amor," Jake's rich, deep voice greeted you smoothly - his chocolate eyes flickering down to your bare legs. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Jake," you exhaled shakily, easing toward him slowly. "You didn't wake me up. I was waiting for you."

Warmth bloomed in his chest, but he simply reached for his white dress shirt, quickly easing his arms into the sleeves and fastening the buttons.

"Where...do you keep your clothes?" you cautiously asked, inching closer.

Nodding to the closet, he remained quiet, knotting his tie and sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and shoes. Khonshu had awakened him. Time to get to work.

"Where are you going?" you questioned after a few quiet moments watching him getting dressed.

Finishing the lacing of his shoes, he stood, reaching for his leather jacket. Realizing your question was not rhetorical, he granted you a slight smirk. "You know where."

"Can I come with you?" You blurted, already flustered. How did he manage to do this to you?

Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head, tutting a bit condescendingly. "You're not serious."

"I am," you insisted, scurrying over to the drawer to find some joggers for your bare legs. Of course, in this state, compared to Jake, you would be way underdressed. He looked head-to-toe incredible.

The faster you moved, trying to get dressed in enough presentable clothing to go out into the frigid rain, the slower Jake moved. But each action was nonchalant, as if he barely noticed your effort.

Why was he so damn infuriating? Then again, those were the exact words he'd said about you...

Pulling a leather glove over his long fingers, one dark eyebrow shot up inquisitively.

"Almost ready," you huffed, feeling like a child asking to go to work with a parent.

Realizing you were serious, Jake yanked on the second glove, giving his knuckles a crack. "Mi corazón..." he warned, pulling his flat cap over the lustrous curls on his head, and wondering what had gotten into you. You couldn't possibly think he would let you anywhere near his night life.

You were dressed now, in a weird mixture of your clothes and Marc's, but your goldfish-clad feet still poked adorably out of your joggers. Glancing all around the room, your eyes frantically searched for the nearest pair of shoes.

Approaching you confidently, Jake reached for your elbow, bringing you to a standstill. "I have to go. You should sleep."

Yanking your arm out of his grasp, you huffed. "I told you I don't respond well to orders."

Rubbing his gloved hand over the stubble on his chin, he nodded, "Goodnight," and turned to walk out of the bedroom.

"No, I'm coming with you, Jake, wait--"

"No, mi corazón. No." He whirled around, his gaze burning into yours.

"Why not?" you shot back, your hands landing on your hips. "You're going to work, right? I need to talk to you. And I want to see what you do."

He scoffed. "No. You don't."

"Stop telling me no," you snapped, realizing this whole stay-up-and-talk-to-Jake thing was already an unprecedented disaster. You simply could not keep your cool around this man.

"Ah, I see - I can't tell you what to do, but you can give me orders." Stalking back over to the night table, he reached for Marc and Steven's phone.

"I-I'm not giving you orders...I just- why can't I come with you?" You were desperate. You realized, at that moment, that alll this was not a good look on you. What happened to cool, calm and collected you? What happened to the you who respected the hell out of Marc and Steven's autonomy and choices?

You went so far as not even trying to dictate to Marc whether or not he should drink. It was his choice, always - it had to come from him. So why couldn't you do the same with Jake? You knew the drill - people were going to do what they decided to do. Arguing the point was only arguing with reality itself.

Sure, you could explain your fears or needs, and Jake could take that information into account. But ultimately, every person in the world always chose what they were going to choose - period, the end.

"I'm not taking you out there. You know it's not safe," he explained with infuriating calmness. "I'm not exactly working a normal job here."

"You mean...you mean Moon Knight. Like...saving people. Like you did with me that night."

His eyes flashed - you couldn't decipher if it was anger or surprise. "Marc told you."

"Yes," you answered softly, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. You had to calm down and stop sounding so desperate. "I just don't understand why you can follow me - why you can watch over me and save me, but you won't just talk to me." Your lip trembled as you started to realize he just may not ever want to be in your life.

"I thought you said that I was your family," you whispered, moving close to peer up into his eyes. "But you haven't talked to me in a week. I've been worried...I've been thinking about you."

Wetting his lips, Jake swallowed hard and shifted from one foot to the other - the first inkling that you were having any effect on him whatsoever. His dark eyes flickered down to yours. "I told you I can take care of myself," he gruffly responded, his resolve beginning to crack. "So stop worrying about me."

"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."

Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"

You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

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oneofstarkskids · 6 months

Text

plus...he's adorable pt.2

part 1

notes: fluff, vegetarian!reader, college!reader

*not my gif*

you had every intention of texting the cute boy who gave you his number at the museum, but you got busy. you had four different essays due and as much as you would have loved to blow them off, you were so close to graduating.

by the time you'd found the piece of paper with his number on it in one of your college notebooks, it had been a week. surely it was too late to try and get a hold of him now. which really sucked, because he seemed like the perfect guy.

it was disappointing, but you supposed you should just let it go. maybe it wasn't the right time.

at least, that's what you thought until you smacked right into him in the park. it was after your very last class and then sun was almost completely gone.

you were just about to stop by your favorite deli and order your usual, a veggie sub sandwich, when your forehead whacked his. "shit," you hissed, bringing your hand up to your head.

"oh!" steven rubbed his own forehead with a pained expression. "i'm so sorry, i wasn't paying-" he started but paused when he realized it was you.

his mind played back the last week that he's been anxiously waiting by his phone for a call from you. steven crossed his arms as if to really stick it to you.

"now you listen here missy," he began to rant. "it's not very kind to tell someone you'll 'see them soon' and then never call. i've been sitting around my flat eating chocolates and chatting with my fish like a sad bloke."

you desperately tried not to laugh at him. he was right. you should've called, but his accent made him twice as adorable and you were having a hard time focusing.

"i'm sorry, i've just been so busy." you tried to explain.

steven shook his head. he was actually putting up a better fight than he thought he would. "i don't need your excuses. if you don't like a guy you should just tell him next time."

"but i do like you!" you said as you started to get slightly frustrated.

steven uncrossed his arms and listened to you with a bewildered expression.

you sighed, "i got distracted writing essays for my finals so that i can finally graduate next month."

steven shrugged, "alright. that's a decent excuse."

"i really did want to call you, but once i had the time i felt like it was too late," you confessed.

the two of you had finally come to understanding, so there you were. standing face to face in the middle of the park.

"i'm free now if you're hungry? unless that's a stupid idea. you're right, it was a dumb suggestion. i just thought-" he began to nervously rant again.

you giggled, "steven," you grabbed his hand to calm him down. "i'd love too."

steven smiled and wrapped his hand around yours. as the two of you began to walk, you came across a steakhouse. steven tried to be considerate of you and asked if you'd like to go in. you, of course, just nodded thinking it was what he wanted.

you were seated at a private little table outside. you looked up and down your menu desperately looking for something without meat in it. steven did the same, peeking over his menu to look at you every once in a while.

eventually you just gave up and set your menu down with a groan, "i'm sorry. it's just that, i'm a vegetarian."

steven's eyes practically lit up, "no way! i'm vegan, i just didn't want to say anything to ruin this."

you both laughed at the entire situation as a waiter walked over with a notepad, "what will the two of you be having?"

you and steven shared a look before he replied, "we'll take two slices of the vegan vanilla cheesecake."

"to go," you added.

#marvel #mcu #fanfiction #avengers #marvel fluff #fluff #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #steven with a v #steven grant #moon knight

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fishsticksloser · 1 year

Text

Pound Cake

Hobie x gn!reader

Warnings: baking not vegan friendly..., kissing, goofing off

A/N: I will not be writing his accent... Hobie Brown, Peepaw Leo, and Astarion are invading my brain... Send help

Hobie knew how you felt about your birthday, not particularly interested in celebrating. Still he was determined to help make this birthday special. He wanted to make you love your birthday again. No matter how many times you tell him you don't want to celebrate, he refuses to believe it. Birthdays are special, and you deserve to be celebrated. And you're going to be celebrated whether you like it or not.

You walk into the kitchen and see him standing there with a cake mix and all the other ingredients needed to make a cake. "What's this?" You laugh, a bit anxiously.

"What isn't it?" Hobie answers with a grin, motioning to the ingredients. "I'm making you a cake." He replies simply, though his smile gives away how excited he is.

"Bee, you've never baked a day in your life." You point out, walking over to him. You carefully inspect the boxed cake mix and other ingredients he's laid out.

"So?" He looks at you, his grin not fleeting. "How hard can it be? It doesn't take a master chef to bake a cake. I can figure it out." He shrugs. This is, of course, completely untrue. But he wants to celebrate you on your birthday, so he'll give it a try anyway.

"Can I help?" You ask quietly, grabbing an egg to break and put into the bowl. You knew he wanted to celebrate you today, but you didn't like the thought of not helping. You didn't want to feel any different, no matter how much he wanted to celebrate your birthday.

"He considers the offer for a moment. "I was going to do this by myself as a surprise," he says. "But I guess I that doesn't really work if you're already here..." He trails off. Hobie loves cooking with you and he knows you love spending time in the kitchen with him. Plus, now he doesn't have to try and figure out how to make a cake by himself, which definitely would've been a disaster. So he doesn't argue. "I'd love for you to help."

After the cake is in the oven, you turn to the counter again. You assess all the left over ingredients: milk, powdered sugar, butter, and vanilla. "Are we making out own frosting?"

"Well, I was planning on it." He replies. "Unless you have a better idea." He's never actually made frosting before, but he's sure he can figure it out - it's not like baking. Then again, he's also never made cake from a box before, but he seems to have managed that okay. So he probably can figure out how to make frosting, too. At least he hopes he can.

You shrug, grabbing the softened butter. "I know how to make it." You tell him, pulling him closer so he can learn. Hobie grins as he wraps his arms around you, making the most of the position so he can steal a kiss. He'll gladly learn anything from you. He rests his head on your shoulder while he gives you his attention.

"Beat the butter first..." You mumble as he stands behind you, his hands firmly on your waist. You start the mixer, letting it beat the butter until light and smooth.

"What's next?" He asks when you stop the mixer. His fingers trail across your hips, and he leans into you as you continue to teach him the ways of frosting making. Of course he does sneak a few kisses in between steps.

The oven beeps and he takes the cake out. We put it in the fridge to cool faster before moving back to the frosting. "What colors are we thinking?" You ask, starting to separate the frosting into bowls.

"Do you have any requests?" He questions, he doesn't really care what color the frosting is. The frosting is just another excuse for him to stay close to you. If you want neon green frosting, he'll gladly make it. He'll still eat it too, as long as you're with him. But it's your cake, and you're celebrating your birthday.

"So helpful." You tease, picking a few colors. "Wanna split the decorating? You do one side, I do the other?" You suggest, pulling the cooled cake out of the fridge.

"Deal." He agrees. "But you better be prepared to be wowed. I'm a masterful cake decorator." He says with a smirk, you can tell he's absolutely not serious. But since he's never decorated a cake before, he's having a lot of fun with it, putting as much effort into decorating as he can. He makes no guarantee that it will be good, but he does promise to give it everything he's got.

"Oh? Masterful?" You laugh playfully, cutting the cake and moving down the counter a bit to give him some elbow room to work. "Can't wait to see what you concoct."

"Prepare to be dazzled," he says with a smirk. His hand brushes yours as he takes his half of the cake. He takes advantage of the fact that he's standing close to you by pulling you in for a quick kiss. He sets the cake down to work on, glancing over at you and grinning. "Just you wait. This cake is going to be the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen."

You chuckle and move to work on your own half of the cake. After a while, you're close to being done and your mind drifts. "Hey, Bee?" You smile, turning to look at him sweetly as he works on his own half.

As he spreads the frosting over his half of the cake, he glances at you, his eyes sparkle with curiosity. "Yeah, love?" He asks, still working on the frosting.

You whip some frosting onto his lips, laughing softly. He grins as you do this, his expression turning from curious to hungry. Hobie doesn't waste a single second before pulling you close and kissing you deeply, with intent. The hand that was decorating the cake is now clutching your hip, pulling you close as he can. Your frosting covered fingers gently cup his jaw as you kiss him back. All thoughts of cake, frosting, decorating escape your mind as he pulls you closer. He keeps kissing you, his breath mingling with yours as he kisses you fiercely and deeply, not wanting to leave any part of you unloved and unexplored.

He groans into the kiss, and when it's over, he rests his forehead against yours. His voice a whisper. "I'm glad you were born, my love."

#atsv hobie #hobie brown x y/n #hobie spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie x reader #astv hobie #spiderverse 2 #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman #spiderpunk #into the spider verse #spider punk #spiderpunk x you #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #{fish birthday•°}

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ofc-vi-writes-too · 2 months

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a continuation of things that i think happen in my favorite fucked up silly little city (gotham)

• In hosptials in Gotham there’s another wing dedicated to super villain attacks Like how theres the ED, NICU, L&D, ICU, etc., theres another branch called Excessive Villain Attack Department (for) Emergencies. Also known as EVADE for short. it’s a brag to say you work in EVADE for doctors/nurses because A. the pay is ridiculously good, and B. how much extra stuff you had to learn to work there. People who work in EVADE have to go through weekly psych evaluations as well as physical testing to make sure they are still fit for duty.

• there are EVADE pop ups all around gotham so it’s citizens ares never more than 5 minutes away from medical attention. You have to work at a pop up before you’re allowed to work in EVADE in a real hosptial. People say working the pop ups is a lot harder and a lot nore stressfull, because people can come to you in really any condition out there.

• Similar to how kids in some areas cant wear certain colors like red or blue to school because of gang affiliation, gothamite students cannot wear anything superhero, vigilante or villain adjacent. No birds, bats, clowns, etc. Its a way for schools to try and stop kids from being targetted by their peers/ crazy adults who will attack them for supporting a specific person or party. Hero or otherwise.

• A lot of mom and pop diners/townie bars have foods named after vigilantes and specialty drinks named after villains. Some examples are:

Red Hoods Hot Chicken and Mac: bufallo mac and chicken with house hot sauce, so hot and tasty it will bring tears to your eyes! (this is true. jason tried it and he literally couldn’t feel his face. He couldn’t tell if he was blinking or not. Dick swears up and down he wasn’t.)

Nightwings: boneless chicken wings with a honey barbecue dry rub, with bleu cheese dipping sauce and chips and a blue corn dip. Dick can and will order 4 and eat them all by himself in one sitting.

Robins Eggs Breakfast combo: 2 sunny side up eggs, strawberry french toast, vegetarian sausage, house salad and an OJ. They tried to make it vegan but no one in Gotham wants breakfast without eggs. Robin said he appreciates the thought anyway. He is very smug and protective of his meal and the restaurant that made it. When he has the day shft he stops by there for breakfast, which isn’t often but still.

Signal soup: a classic squash soup, house focaccia and a garden salad. Its a seasonal meal that comes around every fall, and sells out almost every day for the entire season.

The Scarecrow: literally a long island iced tea with black liqueur in a martini glass with 3 olives. It tastes fucking horrible but will get you beyond hammered

Poison Ivy: shot of pochteca lime liqueur and pink whitney. Very tasty.

Regulator: its a blue margarita with coconut milk in it. Its a little sweet but its yummy. It’s common to black out on these because you cant taste the alch and by the time it hits you its too late and its the next morning and your naked in a strangers bed. Darn those regulators for a night you wont remember! at least the guy is handsome…

• See also the Condiment King challenge: A pint size glass of equal parts ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, mayonnaise, hot sauce, soy sauce, honey mustard, sweet and sour, bbq, salsa, fish sauce, vinegar, ranch, and wasabi. Hell in a cup! If you can drink it within 10 minutes without throwing up, you eat free at the dinner for a month and you get a t shirt that says “I completed the Condiment King challenge at Jimbo’s Dinner!” With a poorly drawn picture of condiment king on it. There has only been one winner: Timothy Drake. Jason dared him to try it after he hadnt slept in 3 days. Tim didnt puke, but Jason did. There were threats of violence if Tim ever told anyone that. Tim didn’t believe him, told Dick and magically ended up with a broken finger. “No AlfredI have NOOOOOO idea how it happened! Must’ve had a bad fall on patrol :3”

• taxes in gotham are shit-your-pants-when-you-see-it-the-first-time high. Gotham has to be able to pay for all the damages somehow, despite Bruce Wayne paying for about 15% of those damages out of pocket, its still not enough to stop prices from skyrocketing. To try and combat this, there is a Gala held anually for the top 10% of Gotham to fundraise for emergency city repairs. It helps a lot but doesn’t solve the problem.

#ofc vi writes too #headcanon #biblically accurate headcanons #dc #dc comics #batman #robin #red hood #nightwing #gotham #gotham is like my little snow globe that i shake to see what happens but instead of snow falling its actually mass destruction <3

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riding-the-sunset-bird · 8 months

Text

People requested I make another post, this time detailing what affects Cove's Step 3 appearance, so that's what I'm doing today!

My previous post contains more details about the specific mechanics behind it, but the short and sweet of it is that things that your MC notices/picks up/favors/focuses on will influence Cove's appearance, but there are a couple that aren't like that and will change him anyway. If you want to get a different Cove than you had before without using the Cove Creator, try choosing different taste/aesthetic-based options, though keep in mind that there isn't a guarantee that it'll completely change him.

As for going through without using the Cove Creator, the only moments in Step 2 that don't have anything that will affect Step 3 Cove's look are Wave and Summerwork, so feel free to pick whatever you want in both of those. Everything else has at least something.

All that said, here's the list of every chance you have to change Step 3 Cove's appearance:

Step 2 Intro

If MC allows Derek and Cove to dig into the fruit bouquet {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points}:

You took a pineapple skewer. [no bracelet(s) on left wrist]

You took a grape skewer. [black wristband on left wrist]

You took a strawberry skewer. [no bracelet(s) on left wrist]

You took a melon skewer. [chain bracelet and beaded wrap bracelet with jewel on left wrist]

When Kyra asks the MC for recommendations for places to eat:

You shrugged. [spiky hair] {note that this will give Cove +1 cold points}

"Not really." [middle-parted hair] {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points}

"Sure, I have a couple of favorites." [no change}

You nodded. [no change}

If the MC agrees to give Kyra restaurant suggestions:

"The Chinese restaurant." [spiky hair]

"The tropical themed place." [ponytail hair]

You insisted Cove contribute to the decision. [middle-parted hair]

You insisted Kyra decide. [ponytail hair]

When Kyra asks the MC what kind of drink they'd like

"Just water." -> "Lemon." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Just water." -> "No." [black shirt]

"Soda." -> "Cola." [black shirt]

"Soda." -> "Orange." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Soda." -> "Grape." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Soda." -> "Lemon lime." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Soda." -> "Root beer." [black shirt]

"Soda." -> "Ginger ale." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Milk." (if MC is not vegan) -> "Just plain." [black shirt]

"Milk." (if MC is not vegan) -> "Chocolate." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Milk." (if MC is not vegan) -> "Strawberry." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Milk." (if MC is not vegan) -> "Soy." [black shirt]

"Soy milk." (if MC is vegan) [black shirt]

"Juice." -> "Orange." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Juice." -> "Apple." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Juice." -> "Lemonade." [black shirt]

"Coffee." -> "Iced with cream." [white, yellow, and green striped shirt]

"Coffee." -> "Hot with cream." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Coffee." -> "Iced, no cream." [white shirt with blue and white gradient button-up]

"Coffee." -> "Hot, no cream." [black shirt]

Growing

When the MC and Cove choose to make sandwiches:

You wanted to make a sweeter style of sandwich. (unavailable if MC chose a lettuce wrap) [no change]

You wanted to make a truly savory style of sandwich. [necklace]

If the MC chose to make a sweeter sandwich:

Peanut butter. [brown leather wristband with red bracelet on right wrist]

Cashew butter. [blue beaded bracelet and green jeweled bracelet on right wrist]

Honey. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Marshmallow fluff. [no change]

Chocolate hazel nut spread. [brown leather wristband with red bracelet on right wrist]

Strawberry jam. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Grape jelly. [blue beaded bracelet and green jeweled bracelet on right wrist]

Orange marmalade. [no change]

Banana slices. [no change]

Mango slices. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Strawberries. [no change]

Apple slices. [brown leather wristband with red bracelet on right wrist]

If the MC chose to make a savory sandwich:

Ham slices. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Turkey slices. [brown leather wristband with red bracelet on right wrist]

Tofu. [no change]

Hummus. [blue beaded bracelet and green jeweled bracelet on right wrist]

Egg salad. [no change]

Lettuce. [brown leather wristband with red bracelet on right wrist]

Tomatoes. [blue beaded bracelet and green jeweled bracelet on right wrist]

Red onions. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Cucumber. [no change]

Avocado. [multi-colored bracelets on right wrist]

Peppers. [blue beaded bracelet and green jeweled bracelet on right wrist]

Pickles. [no change]

Cheddar cheese. [no change]

Pepperjack cheese. [no change]

Mozzarella. [no change]

Family

If the MC agrees to do a show with Lee (note that you can pick multiple of these, so whatever you pick last will take priority):

"I'll sing too." [distressed blue jeans]

"I'll dance." [yellow pants]

"I'll play an instrument." [yellow pants]

"I'll write the song." [green cargo pants]

"I'll do some kind of stunt that goes to the music." [black cargo pants]

"I'll pick the outfits." [distressed blue jeans]

"I'll do the makeup." [white pants]

"I'll make a backdrop or some kind of stage." [black cargo pants]

When picking a movie to watch with the family:

"I wanna watch a romcom." [distressed blue jeans]

"I'd prefer to watch a horror." [black cargo pants]

"I think sci-fi is best." [green cargo pants]

"I'm in the mood for an action movie." [distressed blue jeans]

"Maybe we should watch a family friendly film?" [white pants]

"A comedy would be great." [yellow pants]

Dinner

When the MC has the opportunity to name Cove's fish:

(if Fond/Crush)

"Yeah, I do!" [no change]

"Can I?" [no change]

"No thanks." [rectangular blue glasses]

(if Indifferent)

"Can I name a fish?" [no change]

You kept quiet. [rectangular blue glasses] {note that this will give Cove +1 cold points}

And then when picking a fish to name if agreed:

"The smallest fish." [rectangular maroon glasses]

"The medium fish." [no change]

"The biggest fish." [rounded red glasses]

Road Trip

After Cove asks the MC what they like in other people (if MC pressed and pursued the anklet conversation with him):

"Muscles." [no change]

"Pretty hair." [no change]

"Glasses." [rounded red glasses] (only if Step 3 Cove didn't already have glasses set for him)

"Blue eyes." [no change]

"Everything about you." (if MC is on Crush) [no change]

Mall

As MC decides where they want to go in the mall:

A clothing store. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

An accessory shop. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

The makeup store. [taupe formal shirt]

A video game store. [taupe formal shirt]

The chocolate shop. [taupe formal shirt]

The pet store. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

A camping and outdoor supplies shop. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

The food court. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

A bookstore. [taupe formal shirt]

An art and supplies store. [dark gray mosaic formal shirt]

A music shop. [taupe formal shirt]

If the MC decides to pick a windchime for Cove and it:

Had a dolphin charm. [no bracelet(s) on left wrist]

Was a simple design of just silver poles. [black wristband on left wrist]

Had crystal strands. [chain bracelet and beaded wrap bracelet with jewel on left wrist]

Birthday

When Cove asks the MC what they bought for Miranda:

You picked out a stuffed animal. [white and blue pajama shirt]

You grabbed a necklace and bracelet set. [white and green pajama shirt]

You had found a lighthearted adventure book. [white and green pajama shirt]

You chose a yarn craft kit that made a toy. [white and blue pajama shirt]

You let your moms pick. [white and green pajama shirt]

Your moms didn't appreciate what you had picked and chose something else. [white and blue pajama shirt]

After the unnamed teen offers Cove and MC party favors:

You wanted one of the headbands. -> You pointed to a blue hat. [blue striped pajama pants]

You wanted one of the headbands. -> You pointed to a pink hat. [blue striped pajama pants]

You wanted one of the headbands. -> You pointed to a purple hat. [blue striped pajama pants]

You wanted one of the headbands. -> You pointed to a green hat. [gray striped pajama pants]

You picked a crown. [gray striped pajama pants]

You didn't want one. [gray striped pajama pants]

Escapade

When Cove points out to Kyra that he didn't bring shoes:

"You should always bring shoes when you're going out." [blue swimming trunks] {note that this will give Cove +1 cold points}

"I'm not wearing any either." {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points} -> "I don't know." [blue swimming trunks]

"I'm not wearing any either." {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points} -> "We can't." [pink swimming trunks]

"I'm not wearing any either." {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points} -> "It doesn't matter." [pink swimming trunks]

"It doesn't matter." [pink swimming trunks] {note that this will give Cove +1 warm points}

Soiree (both Cove's and Derek's version)

When the MC is choosing an outfit:

You looked for something formal. [black stud earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the spiky hair) or [silver huggie earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the ponytail hair)

You wanted to keep things casual. [no change]

You wondered how Cove/Derek might feel about your outfit. (if MC is not going alone and is crushing on Cove/Derek) -> You didn't want to look stupid in front of Cove/Derek. [no change]

You wondered how Cove/Derek might feel about your outfit. (if MC is not going alone and is crushing on Cove/Derek) -> You wanted to impress Cove/Derek. [black stud earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the spiky hair) or [silver huggie earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the ponytail hair)

You wondered how Cove/Derek might feel about your outfit. (if MC is not going alone and is crushing on Cove/Derek) -> You didn't want to come across as too excited. [no change]

You wondered how Cove/Derek might feel about your outfit. (if MC is not going alone and is crushing on Cove/Derek) -> You didn't want to look like you were taking this too seriously. [no change]

You wondered how Cove/Derek might feel about your outfit. (if MC is not going alone and is crushing on Cove/Derek) -> You wanted him to see you in a new light. [black stud earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the spiky hair) or [silver huggie earrings] (if your Step 3 Cove currently has the ponytail hair)

Step 2 Ending

If you didn't play Family nor chosen any options that change Cove's pants: [distressed blue jeans]

In addition to all of these, if you've noticed that a third bracelet on Cove's left wrist is missing, it's because you can only give it to him in the Step 3 intro. It's a black bracelet with a weave-like pattern that the MC can give to him if they chose to buy Cove a gift rather than give him something that couldn't be bought.

The only requirement necessary is that Cove has to have worn a bracelet of any kind during Step 2, meaning the shark tooth wrap bracelet on his right wrist, the pink beaded bracelet on his left wrist, or the brown and tan right wristband. The option won't appear among the potential bought gifts otherwise.

If your Step 3 Cove is already wearing a bracelet on his left wrist, he'll remove it to replace it with the one you bought for him, so don't do this if you like the one he's already wearing more.

And that's all! Whether you wanted to figure out how to make your ideal Cove look without the Cove Creator or were simply curious as to which Step 2 options affect his appearance, now you know!

#type: cracking the cove #our life #our life: beginnings & always #olba #cove holden

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starwrighter · 1 year

Text

I am not a baby!! (yes you are)

(Ao3) (Masterpost) (previous) (next)

(Chapter ten baby!!!!)

Danny isn't stupid. He knew Giga Fish was still here somewhere. Watching him... Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, oxygen ticking lower and lower as he darted back into the semi-safety of his base.

A backpack full of peepers and bladderfish smelled awful. Getting the fishy smell out of his suit was going to take ages! Bladder fish are natural water filters. The fabricator draws out drinkable water from the fish's well...Bladder. Ancients, he hoped the fabricator sterilized this with its little lasers.

Non vegan water...

Sam would have a conniption fit, Tucker would love everything about it. He'd find a way to contact them soon if they didn't find him first. The earful he would get from Jazz might just be worse than his giant stalker. Getting lectured by Jazz would be preferred over sitting here with a gigantic fish a few dozen meters away. At least with Jazz, he knew she cared about him. He didn't know what the big guy wanted from him. Danny wasn't exactly a snack you'd travel through the sea for.

Whatever the guy wanted, Danny didn't care. As long as they both stuck to themselves, things would go just fine...

Peeking through the curtain, Danny saw the massive eel-like fish curled up, staring directly at his base.

Danny really wanted to study the guy. What were his eating habits? He didn't seem to be interested in eating any of the fish around him. Both the sharp teeth at the front of his maw and the shiny bioluminescent stripes that drew fish closer to him suggested a carnivore, but his complete disinterest conflicted with this.

Could a fish be vegetarian? A fish capable of sentience like this one probably could, but Danny didn't want to shove his head in the lion's mouth to test that.

Drawing on his PDA, Danny sketched out the blueprints for a table with a trash bin that slotted into the left side. Two air-tight cabinets were built into it. One smaller one underneath the trash bin and one larger, like a fridge on the right. In the middle was a collapsible set of stairs that'd allow him to reach the top of the table. Maybe making the table shorter would be more convenient, but giving up that extra storage space along with his dignity would be too much for him right now. The table top was a bit too empty for his liking, so he added small drawers at the back edge of the table. A perfect place to store small blades and silverware when he created the blueprints for them. Overall, it was much more like a workstation with built-in storage than a table, but Danny still planned to eat his meals here just as he planned to prepare them.

The fabricator would've been sufficient to cook his meals, but the lasers vaporized the shit out of the organs and bones of the fish. Anything nonedible in a fish's body turned to dust. The dusted ligaments and organs gave the meat a medical taste, like using hydrogen peroxide as mouthwash. Sure, the lasers were cool, but what was the point of cooking if your food tasted like high-tech sadness? It was bad enough that the only seasoning he had was salt. He didn't need his food to taste like it was made in a lab. Gutting his own fish was a necessity. Anything he couldn't eat could be tossed outside for the carnivores to snack on. They deserved a little treat for dealing with his stupidity.

Danny built his little table close to his fabrication station, ensuring it was anchored to the floor and wall. An unsteady piece of furniture could flatten him into an ugly pancake. If his friends were here, they'd agree he looked much cuter when he's only fifty percent dead.

Quickly stepping up to the table with his backpack full of fish, he unsheathed his survival knife... The knife would've been so much more effective than his teeth when he fought the big guy. Danny fought the urge to facepalm. What's done is done, he bit someone like a feral raccoon, but everything worked out!

Gutting fish was more difficult than he'd expected it to be. It was hard to tell if his lack of experience or now tiny hands were what made the task feel a thousand times harder. Peeper blood was yellow, but his own was still a vibrant red that dripped onto the table with every slip of the hand. It felt like a fishing trip with Dad, only without the forty-minute lecture on the dangers of ghost fish.

Running his hands over the now gutted Peepers, Danny used all the power he could muster, freezing them solid. Spots danced in his peripherals, the floor spinning underneath him like a carousel. It took a minute or two to regain his composure. Sitting on the ground with his frozen fish head pounding, face flushed red. Forcing his powers was like trying to drink scalding hot coffee through a toothpick-thin straw. It left him out of breath, fingertips burning with no evidence of damage.

There was an ecto dampener on this planet, he was certain of that. One stronger than any of the ones his parents had built. A radius that reached far past the planet's atmosphere yet still remained potent enough to prevent any significant power usage.

Unfortunately for whoever put the field up, it didn't cancel out his powers completely. Maybe if it did, he would have died completely, saving the culprit or culprits from being mauled. If Danny was anything, he was a stubborn bastard, and there was no amount of dampening that would stop him from clawing the faces of whatever had the audacity to do this! If he had access to his powers he could've saved everyone!

Over a hundred people died because he wasn't strong enough to save them! Because he was prevented from saving them. Ships like the Aurora don't just crash and burn for no reason. Alterra might skimp out a bit on employee safety, but the engineers they hired for serious maintenance were top-of-the-line. Underpaid, but top of the line, they wouldn't make a mistake that could cause that much damage. The way the ship shook, it felt like something had hit them. Everything about this seemed more and more suspicious the more thought he put into it.

For now all he could do was survive in hopes of finding some kind of lead. Finding and stopping whatever was stifling his powers was number three on his to-do list. Just above studying the wildlife but below finding other survivors and surviving himself.

First things first was rations! Both he and any other survivor would need food and water. While he was set with his... questionably hygienic water, fabricating more was a necessity. Giga fish was still out there, Danny could feel eyes on him whenever he passed the glass. All it would take was a split decision to plop his tail in front of the hatch, and Danny was trapped in here to either starve or dry out like a sponge under a sunlamp.

Coral samples and crumbling chunks of salt were taken by the fabricator, turned into bleach within the blink of an eye. The PDA screamed at him, a pitch that could've made his ears bleed. Warnings flashed on screen, the AI desperately pleading with him not to put the substance anywhere near his face. A wild contradiction to the PDA entrance that recommended using it to disinfect his wounds.

Only when he used the bleach to fabricate more water did the tablet stop screaming. The water smelt chemical, and it tasted vaguely of metal coins. Like the overpriced bottled waters, you'd find at an airport vending machine. Laying the bottles on their sides, he stashed them away in the cabinet, placing frozen peepers between each layer. Cold water wasn't a luxury he'd be willing to give up, nor was it something he'd give himself a mind-splitting headache over. So the obvious solution was to turn the cabinet into a disturbing refrigerator with dead fish eyes that stared into the deepest depths of his soul!

Nobody ever said survival was aesthetically pleasing.

Walking back to the window, Danny stares flatly at the curtain. Apparently, the whole "You can't see me, therefore I no longer exist," rule didn't work on this guy, so the curtain was completely useless. Peeking past the cloth, he could see the fish staring at him. Didn't even bother to hide, just sat there like he didn't belong hundreds of meters down doing anything else.

If watching him gave this guy joy, he's going to do something nobody could be entertained by. No longer should he be the comedian for giga fish! He was going to do something so drastic, something he'd only done sparely over the past year! He was going to...

Sleep!

He collapsed down onto the floor, curling himself up with the low-hanging curtains. Spite made it all the easier for him to fall asleep.

@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet

#You can't tell me the fabricator make anything that tastes good #dpxdc #dp x dc #subnautica au #dcxdp #dc x dp #Damian's going to get a mean nickname if he keeps things up

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sarahghetti · 1 year

Text

going to the carnival hcs; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader, the gang's all here

summary: the carnival's in town! some headcanons for how you spend your time there with the boys.

warnings: mildly suggestive near the end, but essentially just pure fluff all the way through. reader is called princesa once, no descriptions otherwise.

word count: 2.0k

moon knight masterlist | all masterlists

the carnival rolls into town—of course you’re all going!

and it’s kind of perfect because they all have their favourite parts.

food

marc is your food guy—he won’t be the one to suggest the funky fair foods like frog legs or peanut putter pickle corn dogs, but he will go halfsies with you on anything you want to get so you can try a lot of different things.

you’re giving this look to the deep fried oreos stand that has marc pursing his lips, obviously hesitant even though he offers no resistance when you direct the two of you towards it.

“if you want cookies, I saw a place near the entrance,” he suggests in a placating sort of way, as though he could dissuade you from trying any of the monstrosities at your disposal.

“but…” you gesture at the sign, look at it! and he’s never been more aware of how much you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger because he’s buying an order for you without a second thought.

“it’s… very sweet,” he remarks after his first bite. “not sure if it’s much of an improvement on the original thing.”

“then why do you keep eating it?” you make grabby hands towards the tray in his hand to try one, and he dangles it out of your reach. “wha—hey!”

“just hang on a sec.” he polishes off his cookie, tongue darting out to catch some errant sugar on his lips before pulling you deep into a kiss.

he’s grinning wide at his own cheesiness before he even draws back completely, your face is burning and, yeah—it’s pretty sweet.

meanwhile steven kind of taps out for this. veganism doesn’t exactly pair well with the hodgepodge of carnival foods being offered, but he will take a good sorbet when it gets particularly hot out.

if he fronts after marc or jake eat something non-vegan, steven will find the nearest lemonade stand to wash the taste out of his mouth. he gets a different one every time, and almost drinks the entire bubblegum flavoured lemonade even though he dislikes it.

jake secretly thinks it’s good. marc fronts again near the end of the cup and immediately tosses it in the trash.

jake has simpler tastes but will try to deviate a little in spirit of the carnival. as long as it’s generally something he likes, like fried chicken or a burger, he won’t mind if it comes in a cone or has a shit-ton of cheese piled on top. is the one to pay eight dollars for a cob of corn.

games

marc and steven will only play the fair game scams if you want to, but jake has no qualms about them at all. you mention that there’s a prize plushie you think is cute and he’s already pulling you towards the booth, eyes glinting in a way that you know he’s up to trouble.

jake then proceeds to crush every single game you come across.

skeeball? he’s getting 100 points with every ball he throws. hoops? draft this man into the nba, he’s sinking baskets like your life depends on it.

jake’s bracing a pellet gun against his shoulder, lining up the scope with the targets at the end of the booth when it finally clicks.

he might not be wearing the suit, but that doesn’t mean that khonshu isn’t with him. you lean in over his shoulder. “wait, are you—?”

bam, bam, bam. three shots, three bullseyes. the people around you are whooping and hollering, but jake just turns to you with a smug look on his face.

“didn’t even need him for this one, princesa, but—” his eyes dart to the top of the booth and you can imagine the god sitting up there, watching you. “what is true justice if not scamming a scammer, hm?”

the attendant comes around to give jake his prize, which he presents to you with flourish and a wink.

“now, is there anything else you want? the fist of vengeance—” he drops his voice down to what you know as an imitation of khonshu “—still has a few games left in him.”

marc fronts again to find his wallet much lighter and his arms full of plushies that jake won for you and just sighs.

steven must’ve read a book about the design behind carnival games at some point because boy is he knowledgeable about it.

it’s a bit of diversion from his usual egyptology, but he seems to know all the tricks of the major games like the back of his hand and leans in close to your ear to tell you exactly what’s happening as you watch other people play.

“you see that?” he points towards the ring toss booth, where a handful of people are fruitlessly bouncing rings off the rims of bottles.

you already know what’s coming but still, you ask: “do you wanna play?”

“oh, no, love, now the rings—” he brings the tips of his forefinger and thumb together in demonstration “—they’re barely big enough to fit over the bottles, you’d have to hit it dead on to have a chance. even then, the material isn’t any help, the rings’ll bounce right off like—that!”

he snaps his fingers, and you giggle a little at his theatrics. the sound always makes him blush a little, and he turns back to the game to distract himself before he gets too flustered.

someone puts down twenty dollars for a bucket of rings and he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “poor buggers.”

maybe he says it a little too loudly, catching the attention of some of the players and his face flushes red as he stammers an apology. you shove him playfully, face similarly burning. “steven!”

“sorry!”

the only exception for marc is the horizonal bar game, you know, the one where someone has to hang from a bar for some length of time? it’s practically impossible because it rotates under your hands, yeah, yeah, steven—he knows.

but marc’s a guy with far above average fitness who climbs up walls on the reg. doesn’t even need khonshu’s power to beat it, he just hangs up there, smirking at you as the timer counts down. it’s the easiest prize he’s ever won in his life.

rides

marc’s whole life is a rollercoaster, so he’s ok.

but in all seriousness, the midway rides aren’t really his thing. they’re transported in from who-knows-where, then set up in a parking lot by who-knows-who, and you’re supposed to just let them flip you upside down over and over again while paying ten bucks for the honour? no. he does not trust them.

steven and jake, however, see all the bright lights and loud music and are a little more favourable.

steven probably feels nauseous at the idea of being put upside down, but travelling fast in a circle, or spinning around in teacups? he’s so down. will join you in spinning the teacups to the max or sport a devilish grin as he singlehandedly spins the teacup as you scream.

(will give you a lil kiss on the forehead as an apology if he accidentally takes it too far)

jake sees the crazier rides as a challenge. won’t push you to do them if you really aren’t comfortable, but he gets this spark in his eyes and promises to keep you safe if you ride with him.

what does that mean? it means that he has full confidence that if there’s a failure in any of the safety mechanisms, he can suit up and save you before anything bad happens.

marc is absolutely flabbergasted that jake “protector of the body” lockley even considers going on any of these deathtraps. loudly protests from within as jake tells you about how fast his reaction time is—it doesn’t matter, jake, just don’t take them on the ride in the first place!

the Ferris Wheel SceneTM goes a bit differently depending on who’s fronting at the time.

steven absolutely insists on going on the ferris wheel and will wait any length of line so that you can ride it.

“look at that!” he’s pressed against your side, shoulder to hip, and uses your joined hands to point out landmarks in the distance as you climb in height. the city lights glitter across the horizon, and steven laughs at the spectacle of it all.

he’s probably imagined this very moment happening ever since you told him that the carnival was coming to town—sitting on top of a ferris wheel with you at his side, being able to kiss you at the top.

“did you have fun?” you bump into his shoulder, smiling at how happy he looks.

“fun? love, this is—” he shakes his head. “today has been like a dream. you’re like a dream.”

he says the last part like a confession, grinning, and you feel his happiness when he finally gets to press his lips to yours.

jake suggests you go on the ferris wheel in the same way as when he suggested the two of you cheat at the carnival games, so you’re immediately suspicious.

“stop looking at me like that.” he tries and fails to keep a smirk off his face, giving you an innocent look as he rests a hand on your knee. “isn’t it beautiful outside?”

it is. you take your eyes off him for one moment to admire the view and his hand creeps higher, fingertips pressing into your thigh.

“jake!” your eyes widen, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh. he leans in close, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“nobody can see us up here—it’s just you and me.” his lips move down to graze your jaw, and your breath catches in your throat. your heart flutters.

“I like the sound of that.” jake pulls back slightly to see the small smile on your face. “’you and me.’”

it’s like you’ve taken the wind out of his horny sails. he can’t help but to smile back, and when he kisses you again, on the lips this time, you know that he agrees with you.

the ferris wheel is the only ride you can convince marc to go on; no matter what he says, he’s a big softie at heart.

he keeps an arm wrapped around you the entire time, holding you close. the scent of him envelopes you like a warm blanket.

marc doesn’t say a lot, preferring to just enjoy your company as you slowly make your way to the top. you don’t mind—you just rest your head on his shoulder and wait for him to open up on his own.

when you stop at the top, it’s like you’re in a movie. the neon lights spread out beneath you, your quiet breaths in the cabin, the soft kiss he presses to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and it means so much more than you’ll ever know. you smile up at him and he looks back at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen—like he’s at finally at peace, and you’re the reason why.

you can’t help but kiss him, then—let him taste the words as you say “I love you, too.”

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #my writing #i have no shame this is purely self indulgent

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stellamancer · 1 year

Text

pairing: fem!reader x merman!satoru gojo

contents: more varying levels of anxiety from the reader, mentions of food and eating, satoru gojo is an absolute menace

notes: part ii! um, got a little delayed because i wanted to write a kiss scene... and also because i was fretting over characterization, over reader’s characteriztion, over gojo’s... he’s really hard to write i think. nuances, you know? hoping i did a good job. also somehow this chapter is?? longer?? than the last?? i’m surprised tbh. anyway, please enjoy.

word count: 5.5k (who the hell am i???)

previous chapter || masterlist

You think you might have made a really, really big mistake.

Last night, it didn't seem like a mistake, rather, it seemed like the right thing to do. Who knows who could have found him? What they would have with him? To him? It was better to have brought the merman home than to leave him to an uncertain and possibly cruel fate. You did the right thing; you were certain of it.

At least, you were until you woke up, greeted by the merman's smooth voice and his blue, blue eyes. Ever since then, it’s just been one thing after another with him.

Don't you know that merfolk need the water to be at a specific temperature?

Don't you know that the water needs to be at a certain salinity level?

Don't you know that thing you're keeping him in is far too small?

It's only been for a couple of hours, but you're already completely exhausted trying to keep up and accommodate his needs. To be honest, it's actually kind of overwhelming and you can't help but wonder if this is what it's like for people who adopt animals just because they think they're cute or something.

Not that you would call the merman cute.

Especially not after he’s spent all morning basically mocking you for not knowing anything about merfolk. You didn’t even know they were real until last night, so how could you possibly know the optimal ambient water temperature for a merperson? But you're trying, and hopefully that counts for something. Which is why you're standing in the doorway of your bathroom, holding a platter with a single, whole, raw mackerel on it, its dead eyes boring into your very soul.

Originally, you were going to grill the mackerel in question and have it for breakfast, but you’ve been so caught up in doing this and that for the merman that you haven’t had the time to eat, much less cook. It’s fine. You and Minori planned to meet up at that cafe off the beach that she likes, so you can just eat there even if you think their food sacrifices flavor for the sake of looking disgustingly photogenic.

Speaking of that, you should probably start getting ready soon. You’re supposed to meet up in a little over an hour, and you feel a little gross, still in the clothes you wore last night, plus you have no doubt that you absolutely need a shower, but before you can do any of that, you need to feed the merman.

His gaze zeroes in on the platter in your hands, realizing you heard him earlier (as if you couldn't— he's so very loud). He seems to perk up at the prospect of eating, but it doesn't last long as a frown settles across his features. You gulp. It feels like you're in for yet another merfolk lesson.

Finally, he asks, "Is that supposed to be… food?"

You nod slowly.

"For me?"

You nod again.

"I can't eat that."

"Wh-why not? What's wrong with it?" You almost demand. In hindsight, you should have asked, especially since Mr. Merman's seemed eager to point out every misstep you've made so far. You were so sure that the mackerel would have been acceptable that you didn't even bother. It makes sense for a merman to eat fish right? What else would he eat? Seaweed? Is he maybe vegan?

"It's dead," he tells you and though his tone is plain, you can see the amusement dancing in those beautiful blue eyes of his. "Fish are best live— squirming as you bite into them, their blood squirting—"

"Okay!" You squeak, interrupting his rather grotesque description. It’s way too early for any kind of gory stuff. "Okay! Got it!"

Well, that settles that; he’s definitely not vegan.

He grins, clearly finding enjoyment in your discomfort, and you try to tell yourself, again, that you did the right thing. You're trying your best, but the fact that it doesn't seem to be amounting to anything is frustrating. The merman's constant jabs and jeers at you and your efforts certainly aren't helping.

Neither is the distinct feeling of intense hanger that's starting to claw at you.

Maybe you should have a snack before you meet up with Minori.

The merman tilts his head, and you think maybe he's trying to look innocent, his eyes big and wet, his lips barely puckered. But the mischievous look in his eyes betrays him, making it clear that his aim is just to continue messing with you. "Oh, but—"

"Unfortunately," you interject again, exasperation seeping into your tone. You can feel your hanger about to violently consume you as you hiss. "I'm rather uneducated when it comes to merfolk food culture."

He just stares at you and it feels strange that he has no quip to counter you with.

Shit. Was that a bit much? You regret your words as soon as they're out of your mouth. Despite the merman's behavior, he doesn't entirely deserve to be on the receiving end of your ire. You really should have asked about his diet. And maybe gotten yourself a bite to eat while you were getting him that fish. It's not as if you didn't know you were hungry.

You take a deep, deep breath, hoping that fresh oxygen in your lungs can keep you sane for just a little bit longer. "Sorry. Just… is there— is it really completely inedible like this? If you really want it warm or something, I can cook it for you really quick."

He seems to consider your words, and you hope his response will be favorable. "...No, it's fine like this, I guess."

Relief saturates you as you exhale. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath. "I promise I'll get you something better later, it's just I… kind of don't have the time right now."

The merman hums and holds his hand out expectantly. You're not sure if you should just give him the whole platter or just the fish itself; you opt for the former as you cross the length of the bathroom to give him his meal. Then you look away. He's either going to swallow the fish whole or bite into it, and frankly, you don't know if you can stomach the sight of either.

It sounds like the latter though. You start to step away, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get ready, but that would have to start with a shower and while the shower is completely separate from the tub it is also right there. The thought of giving the merman a show while he eats is absolutely mortifying, especially when you consider how unnaturally handsome he is. Maybe you should leave a little early and swing by the bathhouse to shower there…

“Got plans?” The merman’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Uh, yeah.”

"A hot date?" he probes, sounding like he's snickering.

Your face feels warm and you whirl around to face him, catching a peek of a bit of the mackerel's tail hanging out of his mouth. "No, I'm meeting up with my best friend."

Last night doesn't count. You barely even spoke with one another. Not that you could since she—

"You don't seem all that excited about it," the merman remarks, his eyes watching you curiously, looking impossibly bluer than before.

You open your mouth to refute the claim. To tell him that the reason you don't seem excited isn't because of Minori but because you've spent your entire morning running yourself ragged because of him. But it’s not quite true, so you don’t. Try as you might to ignore it, Minori's recent behavior still weighs on you, awkward and uncomfortable. You hold your tongue and instead say, "That's… not true."

The merman's expression is indecipherable, his icy blue gaze fixed on you. It feels like he’s seeing right through you, silently calling you out on your weak excuse of a lie.

Feeling the conversation is over, you turn back around and take another step to leave, but then the merman speaks again.

“So, you know,” he starts, his tone adopting a flirtatious edge. “I’d be happy to teach you about merfolk culture. I’m pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.”

Your entire body goes rigid and you glance back at him, in mild disbelief. “At… teaching?”

He grins at you, as if he’s happy to have your eyes on him again. Is he starved for attention or something? The merman winks as he responds cheerfully, “Yup!”

You gawk at him. “Like how you’ve been ‘teaching’ me all day?”

“That’s right! You’ll be an expert in no time.”

You doubt that. His teaching methods leave a lot to be desired; you’d even go so far as to say he’s actually a garbage teacher. You consider telling him this, but decide not to because he really seems legitimately proud of his skills (or lack thereof). “I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be lots of fun!”

You doubt that even more. “Based on everything you’ve ‘taught’ me so far, I’m honestly not even sure if I can adequately take care of you here…” You pause, then add, slowly more to yourself than the merman. “Maybe when I get back I should call the aquarium…”

It would be better, you think, to return him to the sea where he belongs. If anything, he seems well enough, and he hasn’t made any mention of any injuries that would keep him from going back. You don’t know for sure, but being in the aquarium would probably be better than your parent’s luxurious bathtub.

“An aquarium?” he exclaims and his voice is louder than usual, causing you to jump just a little bit. “You’re not serious, right?”

“Uh, well—”

“They keep a lot of different aquatic creatures there, don’t they?” the merman says before you can say anything.

“Yeah, but that means the facilities are bigger and so you’d—”

“They probably wouldn’t be able to give me the same kind of personalized care that I could get from you.”

“Maybe, but I’m sure they’d—”

“Besides,” he interrupts again, his voice even louder as if he’s trying (and succeeding) to gain dominance over the conversation at hand. “They’d probably keep me there for the rest of my life! They might even experiment on me!”

Wide eyed, you stare at the merman. Your initial thought is that the family that owns the aquarium wouldn’t do that, but you don’t know, someone else who works there might. Merfolk are supposed to be myths, legends, so it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility that if you were to dump him off at the aquarium that he’d become someone’s research project.

"You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" he pleads, staring at you, his baby blue eyes blown wide, wet with what you think, in the back of your mind, are crocodile tears, his lower lip quivering as if he’s a frightened child.

“I…” you start, trying to think of something, anything to say. There’s no doubt in your mind that the merman is guilting you. But you also know that he has a point, there’s no way to ensure that he’ll be treated humanely if you hand him off to someone else. Your stomach churns at the thought of scientists cruelly poking and prodding at him with needles and scalpels as if he were a lab rat. No matter how annoying he’s been, he wouldn’t deserve that.

After all, isn’t that why you brought him home in the first place? To protect him from such a cruel fate? If you were just going to hand him off to someone else, you should have just left him on the beach.

Slowly, you shake your head, “No… I wouldn’t.”

Pleased, the merman beams at you, his expression now the complete opposite of the pitiful look he was sporting just a moment ago. Despite his cheer, you still feel uneasy and you don’t think it’s because you’re hungry.

The reason becomes obvious when the merman speaks, as if your body was giving you a premonition, trying to warn you. “That settles it then! Guess we’re roommates now!”

You stare at him blankly, your thoughts stuttering at his words, struggling to comprehend them as if they were spoken with a foreign tongue. What did he say? What did he say? When your brain finally processes them, translates them into something you can understand, you nearly screech, the words flying out of your mouth before you can even think about filtering them. “Roommates? Who said anything about roommates?”

The merman’s eyes narrow into a smoldering gaze and you distantly wonder if he's just trying to show off the range of emotions that he's capable of. His voice drops an octave, purposefully sultry and seductive as he says, "Well, if you'd like a different kind of arrangement—"

"Shut up!" you finally snap, ignoring the electric feeling running up and down your spine at the mere sound of his voice. You don’t think you’ve snapped at anyone before, much less a stranger, but to hell with that and to him too. All morning he’s been bossing you around and while you’ve been doing you best to acquiesce to him, he keeps messing with you as if you’re his own personal toy. Maybe it really is the hanger, having consumed you, body and mind, by this point, but regardless, you’ve hit your limit with him. “We absolutely cannot be roommates! Don’t you have to return to the ocean, anyway? Won’t you turn into seafoam or something if you don’t?”

He starts to laugh and you glare at him. It probably sounds stupid, but you think you’ve heard something like that before, but then again it’s not like you actually know anything. The merman waves his hand dismissively, his lips curled up in amusement. “I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s nothing like that.”

"Okay, but that doesn't answer my question."

He gives you a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah, eventually.”

You wait, because you know there’s got to be more to it than that. Is he just doing these dramatic pauses for the fun of it? He shoots you a mischievous grin, almost confirming it, as he adds, “Should be fine as long as I go back in the next hundred years or so.”

You nearly choke on the air. One hundred years? He can’t be serious. You take a deep, deep breath before speaking. “Sorry, but I don’t have one hundred years to be your roommate— I don’t even know if I’ll live that long. I’m only going to be here for the summer, and then I’m heading back home to Tokyo.”

That should be enough to deter him. At least that’s what you think, but you also think that the merman might like proving you wrong. His smile shifts only just slightly, the glimmering in his eyes reminding you more of the sky than the sea that he calls home. “For the summer then. We can be roommates until you go back to Tokyo.”

You scowl, wracking your mind for some kind of counterpoint, but it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle in trying to argue with him. He takes your silence as a chance to attempt to further convince you. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the only one here, right?”

You don’t say anything so he continues.

“Aren’t you lonely here all on your own?”

His question hangs in the air, unanswered, as you remain silent.

The truth is you’re used to it— to being lonely. You’ve been living on your own in Tokyo for long enough to be comfortable with the silence that comes with solitude. It’s no stranger, and sometimes you could even consider it a friend. But there’s no denying that maybe, just maybe you’d been hoping there would have been a little more time between your arrival and your parents’ departure. It’s fine. You’ll see them when they get back.

Besides, you still have Minori.

You can still hang out with her. Go eat at little cafes where you’re meant to take pictures of the food rather than enjoy eating it. Or have sleepovers where you chat about anything and everything. How she’s got something going on with Hayato. How weirdly nice Shinomiya is. How different life in Tokyo is compared to here. And maybe spending time with her will be enough to take the place of the silence, the loneliness that you’re grown accustomed to. It’s fine, you tell yourself, almost viciously. It’s fine because you still have Minori.

Minori, who’s supposedly your best friend.

Minori, who, you suppose, is acting strange around you.

Minori, who you’re supposed to hang out with in about an hour.

“We can’t be roommates,” you repeat, through gritted teeth as you reach up to massage your temple in exasperation. You don’t have time to deal with this right now: you need to get ready. “I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name.”

The merman opens his mouth to respond but just as he starts to speak, you can feel a vibrating in your pocket. Soon after the sound of your ringtone fills the bathroom, echoing off the walls. You shoot him a look, silently telling him to be quiet as you reach into your pocket to grab your phone. Your stomach feels like it’s doing gymnastics, flipping and folding into itself, uncomfortably, painfully. It’s amazing your phone is still alive, having gone all night and almost all morning off the charger and you catch sight of how much the battery remains— nine percent. But that’s not the most important thing right now.

It’s Minori that’s calling.

You turn away from the merman, gulping as you swipe the green answer button on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Her voice is strained, hoarse, like she’s gotten sick or spent all night screaming.

“Are you okay?” you ask, more a formality than anything. You know the answer, but you’re still concerned.

“No, I—” She coughs. It sounds almost forced. You ignore it. “I… kinda drank a little too much last night…”

Somehow, you’re not surprised. You bite the inside of your cheek as you try not to frown. “It’s okay. We can reschedule.”

“...you sure?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “You don’t feel well and… we have all summer to hang out.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Minori rasps out, then she adds, almost an afterthought. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Really.”

You could almost swear you hear another voice in the background, one that sounds almost familiar but you ignore it. You ignore it. You ignore it.

“It’s fine,” you repeat. “We have all summer.”

“Right.”

“Just get some rest, okay?”

“Mmhmm… bye.”

“Bye.” The line clicks first on Minori’s end. Your hand drops to your side limply and your phone almost slips from your fingers.

You don’t know how to feel.

On the one hand, she really might have drank too much. You remember seeing a few coolers filled to the brim with booze last night. It’s not impossible that, after you’d left, people, people including Minori, might have really gone to town with the drinking. She definitely could have gotten a hangover from drinking too much.

But something else in the back of your mind insists otherwise, it whispers that there’s something else going on. Her behavior is too suspicious, and it’s getting harder and harder to fight off the notion that she’s doing this on purpose, that she’s avoiding seeing you, avoiding talking to you.

And that hurts.

But what hurts more is that you don’t really know why.

Is it just because you were really bad at talking to her when you were in Tokyo? Or is it something else? You could message her and ask, but you’d rather ask her in person when you can. If you can.

“Satoru.”

You startle at the sound of the merman’s voice, turning toward him. You almost forgot that he was here. He’s watching you curiously, expression unreadable. It makes you a little uncomfortable, like he’s dissecting you.

“What?” Your voice is almost inaudible.

“Satoru,” he repeats and you notice his tone is almost gentle now. “That’s my name.”

“...just Satoru?” you ask, unsure. You actually have little doubt that it’s his name, but it feels a little… too close, too personal to be using his first name when you barely know him.

The merman gives you a wry smile as he dodges your question. “You know, it’s impolite to not offer your name after someone else gives you theirs.”

He’s not wrong, but still you hesitate. You feel like there’s some unspoken significance in giving him your name, like once you do, you’ll be setting something into motion that you won’t be able to stop.

It’s just a name, just your name.

Satoru’s eyes glimmer as you offer it to him and he repeats your name back, as if he’s testing the feel of it in his mouth. Something in your chest stirs at the sound of it, a little voice in the back of your head smugly telling you that it was right, but you ignore it.

With a satisfied hum, he says, tone shifting into something more cheerful, “With that out of the way, there’s no reason we can’t be roommates now, right?”

You stare at him wide eyed. It’s completely beyond you why he’d rather spend his time here, in your parent’s bathroom over being in the big wide ocean, but it’s clear that he has no intent on giving up. Between Satoru keeping you busy all morning and Minori canceling your plans, you don’t really have the energy to fight him any more anyway.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Satoru insists with a smile. This one is different from the others you’ve seen from him so far and you wonder if he’s trying to take a different approach to convince you.

Not that he needs to any more; you’re already resigned yourself to your fate.

“...only until I go back to Tokyo, okay?” you relent, squeezing the phone in your hand so hard it might break. This might be a mistake, agreeing to let this merman, to let Satoru stay here for the summer, but it’s fine.

It’s fine.

Satoru beams, bright and triumphant as he echoes. “Only until you go back to Tokyo.”

One trip out of the house to the bathhouse and the store is enough to reduce the discontent you feel from whatever is going on with Minori to just a frustrating buzz in the back of your mind. You know it won’t fully go away until you and Minori actually talk about it, but with the way things are going, who knows when that will be?

Besides, you feel like your hands are going to be too full attending to Satoru to dwell on anything for very long.

You heave everything you got at the store onto the counter. Even though you’d gone just yesterday, the sudden appearance of another mouth to feed demanded another trip. Despite Satoru’s offer to teach you about merfolk culture, he wasn’t particularly helpful when you asked him (this time) what kind of food to get him. Seafood, he’d told you with a snicker, and when you probed for something more substantial than that all he said was to surprise him.

His teaching methods really do leave a lot to be desired.

You did what you could with what little he gave you. Naturally, you bought seafood, two more whole fish, and then some other things, some of them a little… unconventional. It’s fine, though, you made sure to get things you could eat just in case Satoru doesn't like them. And if he doesn't maybe that'll teach him to be a little more specific next time.

"Hey! Are you back?" Satoru's naturally loud voice echoes throughout the house. He must have really good hearing if he heard you shuffling in the kitchen, though you did slam the door pretty loud when you came back in earlier.

"Yeah!" You holler back.

"Perfect! I'm hungry!"

Of course he is. But then again, it's been a bit since he ate that mackerel earlier. Your stomach rumbles in agreement with Satoru. After Minori had called, your hanger and appetite had basically disappeared, but now it seems like it's recovered. Your stomach grumbles again, and you consider eating before bringing Satoru his food, but…

Since you're "roommates" now wouldn't it be better to eat together?

Sharing a meal with Satoru sounds like a mistake, but if he gets too annoying you can just get up and walk away. Nodding to yourself, you grab the things you'd bought to eat and some of the things you'd gotten for Satoru to try and head for the bathroom, stopping by the storage closet on the way.

You find what you're looking for— your mother's bed and bathtub trays— with relative ease. Hopefully, the bathtub tray will sit comfortably on the tub, even with Satoru's massive body in it, if not… you can probably both share the bed tray. You grab both trays and, while it's a little awkward, you manage to carry them both into the bathroom.

Satoru's lounging in the tub, since there's not really much else he can do, his long arms and even longer tail hanging off the edges. You feel bad, even though your parents' luxury tub is huge by human standards, it really is too small for him. Maybe it'd be fine if he could bend his tail the way people bend their legs but you don't know if he can. When you enter, Satoru tilts his head toward you and shoots you a lazy grin. You freeze, remembering again, how stunningly handsome he is.

And then he ruins it, by opening his mouth, eyes on the bag in your hand.

He starts to pout. "Did you bring me another dead fish?"

"They only sell dead fish at the store." You say while you set up the trays as little makeshift tables for you both. Luckily, the bathtub tray fits— just barely— but a win’s a win in your book. When that’s all done, you start to pull everything out of the bags. Satoru watches curiously as you separate your stuff from his. Belatedly, you realize you’ve only really brought him snacks and nothing actually substantial.

“So, what have we got here?” he asks when you’re done.

“Uh, well,” you point at each item, telling him what it is as you sit down next to the tub. “Dried shredded squid, some different kinds of seaweed snacks and dried anchovies.”

Satoru hums and picks up the bag of dried anchovies and examines it, turning it over in his hands. Is he wondering how to open it? You’re about to reach over and show him the notch in the bag that he needs to tear, but he gets to it before you do and rips the bag open. It’s a little impressive that he figured it out on his own. You watch as he reaches his hand in and gingerly pulls out one of the fish. He turns it over in his fingers, looking at it before popping the whole thing in his mouth. You hear the absolute barest crunch as he chews on it.

When he’s done he chucks another one in his mouth as if it were a potato chip. “Not bad.”

You beam, maybe it’s not a glowing review, but still you’re glad to have finally, finally gotten some kind of stamp of approval from Satoru.

He glances at you and his lips ease up into a mischievous smile as he plucks yet another anchovy from the bag and holds it up to your face in offering. “Would you like one too?”

You eye the anchovy anxiously and bite your lip, not sure what to say. Do you tell him? Or do you just bite the bullet?

“What’s with that look?” Satoru asks, pouting. “Do you humans not eat these?”

“Uh…”

The pout becomes more pronounced, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Did you really give me something you wouldn’t eat? How mean.”

“...you said surprise me,” you finally grumble. “I’ve only ever used those in making soup stock— I’ve never eaten them like that.”

In an instant Satoru’s frown is gone as he latches onto the last thing you’ve said. He leans forward excitedly, his eyes shimmering with some kind of predatory joy. “Is that so? That would make this… your first time too?”

He does that thing with his voice again, and your brain goes offline for just a millisecond before booting back up. “Don’t make it weird.”

Satoru smiles, unaffected by your deflection. He waves the anchovy in front of you. “Well? Gonna try?”

You stare at it. It’s not like you’re opposed to it, so why not? It’s Satoru’s first time trying anchovies like this, so in a way would it be fair. You’re drawing the line at letting him hand feed it to you, though. Leaning a little bit back, you take the fish from him and toss it into your mouth. Just as you expected it’s a little crunchy, but more than that the taste is intense and salty, but…

“It’s not bad,” you remark, echoing Satoru’s sentiments. He grins and starts to eat them in earnest, few at a time. You pull at the plastic of one of the rice balls you got for yourself so you can dig in. After a couple bites, you notice out of the corner of your eye that Satoru’s looking at you again. “Mmm?”

“What do you have?”

You swallow what’s in your mouth before you explain. “Just some rice balls and a fruit sando.”

“Why does your food look better than mine?”

“Uh,” you pause, trying to think of how to word it, “My stuff is more… complex, I guess?”

Most of what you got for Satoru is pretty simple, consisting of only an ingredient or two. He huffs, obviously off-put by your answer, and leers at you like he wants something. Then he says, petulant, “I want some.”

You’re almost startled at how straightforward he is about it. Almost.

“I… just wasn’t sure if your stomach would be able to handle more… processed human foods,” you explain. “If… if you really want, we can share. I-I just wouldn’t want you to get sick from something you ate, you know?”

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at your words, but then he waves his hand almost dismissively, “Nah, it should be fine.”

You’re not so sure, but if he says so. “Okay…”

“So, what's that?” he asks, gesturing to the rice ball in your hand.

“It’s a tuna mayo rice ball. The other one I have has salted salmon.”

“I see.”

You think about the best way to go about sharing the rice ball. Would it be better to just flat out give him your salted salmon rice ball? There’s really no way for you to break off a piece of your rice ball to give him to try without basically breaking the entire thing apart.

Before you can decide on a course of action, Satoru ends up deciding for you. He leans all the way forward, getting all into your personal space so he can take a huge chomp out of the rice ball in your hands. You almost drop the entire thing in shock, and Satoru is either completely unaware or doesn’t even care as he leans back in the tub, grinning with a wicked amusement as he chews.

“That’s pretty good,” he remarks, licking his lips. Your eyes are unfortunate enough to pay a little too much attention to the action.

It takes you a moment to recover and you hand him the rest of the rice ball and say. “Okay, well, you can have the rest of this one and I’ll just have this one to myself.”

“I thought we were sharing?”

“We are,” you insist. “You’re eating that one, and I’m eating this one.”

“But I wanted to try the salted salmon one, too.”

“I… I will get one just for you next time I go to the store, okay?” you offer, hoping that will deter him from invading your personal space again and sinking his teeth into the other rice ball.

It doesn’t.

You’re so lucky that the fruit sando is sliced in two pieces.

next chapter (coming soon) →

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #nikuniku fics #sots fic tag

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