#sorry that it took me a second to reply anon
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vvoidsmm · 1 day ago
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Something About you.
Why on earth would I like you? Of all people, why you?
an idiot who's overthinking about feelings
The city’s perpetual gloom filled the night sky in murky shades of gray and blue, as Gabe stood on a rooftop close to the edge, with the cold midnight air biting at his skin. His gaze drifted downward to the city streets below, where he could hear snippets of conversations—laughter, shouts, the distant wailing of sirens. It was a good distraction for him, something to take his mind off of... well, things. Things that's been eating him up inside, and he can't figure out why.
Next to him was the Red Hood, muttering something about plans to take out some criminals, or other stuff— Gabe wasn't listening. Not really. His mind had been occupied since the moment Jason arrived. Anon's usual blabbering, chatty self was nowhere to be seen or heard. Something was different, and Jason was quick to notice.
"Earth to Anon?" Jason calls out, his voice low and gravelly from his helmet. "Are you going to help me out here, or are you just gonna stare off into space?" Right. They were working on something together— nothing too serious, just a need to take down a rookie gang. Minor stuff.
Gabe blinked at hearing Jason's voice. Covering his slip with a lopsided grin, "You've got it handled, Red." Dissatisfied with the answer, Jason huffed from under his helmet. "Handle what? Were you even listening to me?" he scoffed.
"Sorry," Gabe mutters, looking down at his feet. Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating— for Gabe, at least. And he hated it.
"You're not usually this quiet." Jason sighed, crossing his arm over his chest. "You're usually annoying, always talking about whatever..." he looks at Gabe before bringing his attention to Gotham below.
"I'm multifaceted." Gabe quipped, though his voice was much softer than usual.
Jason could only groan from that reply, "Don't give me that crap." If Gabe could see what the man looked like right now, he was sure he was rolling his eyes. "Alright, stop it. What's up? You're clearly distracted and it's annoying me."
"It's nothing."
"Bullshit. What's eating you up?"
Gabe hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. He sighed, more to himself than anyone else. There was something about Jason that made it impossible to ignore him. Maybe it was the way he fought like he had nothing to lose, or the way he smiled as if he didn’t care—though Gabe knew better. Jason tried to hide it, but Gabe could see the weight he carried, the guilt and pain that clung to him like a second skin.
But why was he overthinking this? Jason was just a guy with too much baggage, right? But that was just an excuse, a way to push aside everything Gabe felt. Jason wasn’t just anything. He was fire and fury—something that drew Gabe in, something that made him want to understand him, even when Jason pushed people away.
Gabe didn’t know when it all started. Maybe it was the first time Jason snapped at him, his voice sharp and rough, cutting through the chaos like a jagged knife. Or maybe it was when Gabe saw Jason unmasked, vulnerable in the dim light after one of their shared missions. Either way, it didn’t matter. He hated thinking about it, hated how much space the Red Hood took up in his head.
He tried to bury the feeling deep, convincing himself it was just respect, maybe camaraderie. But the truth wasn’t so kind. Why Jason? Why him? Gabe asked himself again. But deep down, he knew the answer didn’t matter. Despite everything—despite Jason’s rough edges and sharp words—Gabe couldn’t stop himself from wanting to get closer.
His gaze lingered on the man in front of him. Jason had always had a magnetic pull, something that left Gabe feeling unsteady.
But right now, he wasn’t ready to admit everything out loud. Instead, he wore his usual smile. "Maybe I'm just thinking about how good of a friend you are?"
"What..." Jason blinked, caught off guard by the ridiculousness Gabe said. He scoffed a bit, shifting his weight to his right leg while staring at the other in disbelief. "You have terrible taste."
"I know."
"You were distracted because of... what, that?"
Gabe laughed sheepishly. "Yeah."
"That's stupid." Jason groaned and stepped back. Muttering something that Gabe didn't quite catch. Gabe away, back to the city. There was something about Jason Todd—something that made Gabe's heart race and his walls crumble. And maybe that's stupid. And just maybe, that was okay.
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whatever this is, just know it was made without me thinking of a draft or anything at all... call it impulse writing HAHAHAHA alexa play "do i wanna know" by hozier bcs i was thinking of that when writing abt them
calling them redmystery bcs... heh... yeah... im so creative(lie)
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kate-bot · 9 months ago
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OKAY SO I've gotten two asks about my Noisette cosplay AND THANK YOU SM FOR THE KIND WORDS !!!!!!!! It was sm fun to make this cos, so I will gladly explain everything I did in hopes that it might help someone else!! also both anons please share your cosplays with me when theyre done i would love to see them....
I've tried to link everything where I can, where I got stuff etc... I only rarely cosplay (although I am thinking of going as the noise in May Comiccon) and this was my biggest ever project so!! It's very trial-and-error! But without further ado
KATES EXTENSIVE(ish) GUIDE TO COSPLAYING NOISETTE FROM THE HIT GAME PIZZA TOWER!!!!!!! (warning its kinda long)
THE HAT
Okay i’m gonna be real my mum helped me so much she basically did all the sewing for me. Sewing is the fucking bane of my existence I hate doing it so much so we planned it out together and she basically executed it. Props to her for that she’s so real… She also wrote down what she did!! So i’ll just paste and colour that in for you to read!!
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“The black material (seen in the above image) was originally a beanie hat that was picked apart to use as a template…
This was game changing basically. We had experimented with making the hat from scratch but it was far too difficult and we were both too stupid so we just unstitched a pre-existing hat and stole the template. The hat we cut up was one we had lying around for years so i cannot tell you where to get one from, but any beanie that is stitched together will work i guess! So I would recommend finding a hat that fits you snugly and doing the same thing!
…and the wool fabric that was utilised gave the finished product was stiff enough to be structurally sound.
I just got this from my local fabric shop, I would recommend wool over something like felt because it’s super sturdy and I was pulling on my mask a LOT.
Once sewn together, I attached a stiff card facemask to the front to help provide some structure, and to locate where the eye holes should be cut.
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I think this picture shows it pretty well, my mum was able to curve the shape of the fabric to fit a pre-existing mask- we got ours from Hobbycraft, just one of those stringed white template masks yknow. We cut off the string, made the eyeholes a little bigger and just stuck it straight on!! I should mention this was pretty much all done with a sewing machine as well!
After that, we made two ears from a paper pattern, stuffed them and put some wire inside to allow them to be positioned, before sewing them onto this headband, which was then sewn into the hat. The bottom of each ear was also stitched to the crown to give it some additional stability and to secure the headband correctly in position (having fitted it on the wearer).
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Yeah it was actually less of a mask and more of a headband!! That was what gave it most of the support and meant the ears would stay up, I’m not sure how it would work without it!! The ears were the only part that I could actually help with LMAO i just freehanded a little template, stuffed it, and then put in some modelling wire to make them able to be posed :)
Then it was a lot of hand sewing, and glueing the eyeholes to the mask to create a cohesive look.
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AND YEAH that’s pretty much all it was! I also attached some little felt eyelashes to add to it as well. Honestly I could never come up with a step-by-step guide for the process because it was such a trial and error thing (i’d made two test-hats before we even came up with the method) but it was so fun!!
I would 100% recommend if you want the ears to stay UP to stuff them AS MUCH AS U CAN and/or put wire in them!! :) I also made some cute little bows to clip into my wig in the same fabric to make it more cohesive!! I also put a bow (and a bunny tail heheh) on the back of the dress too!!
THE DRESS
Super simple! I just found one online (okay for some reason the link has been taken off of the website, but just look up "overall dress" on google shopping and you will 100% find something super cute)- I made sure to buy the dress first, and then take it to the fabric shop to try and colourmatch the mask fabric as best as I could. Then it was just buying some big ol buttons off eBay and sewing them on!! (I could actually do that bit by myself, I'm bad at sewing but im not THAT bad)
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EVERYTHING ELSE
Cute patterned knee-high socks cuz shes cute like that. Leg warmers, I think I got them both off of Amazon... Converse I got from Depop and I had wanted to buy a pair anyway so I was super stoked to get them cheap!! I chose converse over a pair of high-heels or Mary Janes just for comfort reasons, I was walking around loads at the con so... Everything else apart from the shirt was from Amazon or just. Somewhere online(I have no idea where to get fancy white gloves LOL) and the shirt was from Depop as well! I liked how frilly it was, re: Noisette is cute like that!!
oh yeah and the wig. I hate wigs it was awful. I have no idea how to style them. underneath the hat was the most awful bowl cut ever I just. It wasn't my best moment. Dont ask me about wigs please .
Also I should mention I got this bag for the cosplay (which I now use all the time cuz its so cute) because i needed space to store shit and I wanted something on-brand with her cafe... this isnt the exact link I used but I just got it off of ebay :P
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PROPS
Unfortunately I don't have a lot of WIP pictures of my props but they were pretty simple to make!! The coffee cup was literally just spraypainting over a reusable coffee cup and using POSCA pen to draw on the front! Fun fact the cup says "To Peppino" because originally my boyfriend was gonna go with me as Peppino before the Cruetly Squad brainrot got to him so. YEA
And the tip jar was also pretty simple, I just painted on the lid a plastic jar (can't be glass, not allowed at ComicCon) and cut out a bit of vinyl to work as the sign. The cobweb was just hot-glued 3D printer filament, and the spider was made with foam modelling clay (literally the best thing ever if you're making small models like that) and i stuck him to the lid of the jar with Kandi string so he'd bounce around :]
AND I THINK THATS IT!! i may as well post a pic of the full cosplay since I dont think many people would have made it this far.... But I think it turned out pretty cool!! I got recognised a few times as well which was amazing!! (cropped out my bf cuz idk if he wants his face on tumblr gfhhfg)
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SO YEAH!!!! if anyone has any questions please let me know.. but GOOD LUCK IN UR COSPLAY MAKING FRIENDS!!!! :D
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finchers-ipad · 11 months ago
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Hey ash, I am curious...does The Narrator get arrested at the end??
I mean he tells the the police about the crimes right? And also that one cop who is not part of Tyler's men did check the house?
sorry for my bad English
hey! i’m probably not the best person to ask because i haven’t read the book (yet) BUT i’m pretty sure that the narrator wakes up in a psychiatric hospital at the end of the book and mistakes it for heaven? so i don’t know if he would have been arrested but if he was it would have been something like a psychiatric hospital
i’m not sure what the plot of ‘fight club 2’ is but here’s its synopsis from wikipedia: “Set ten years after the ending of Fight Club, the sequel is told from the restrained perspective of Tyler Durden as he sits in the subconscious of Sebastian (the name the narrator of the original Fight Club currently uses). Sebastian continues his dysfunctional relationship with Marla and has fallen into the mundane routine of society until Tyler re-emerges to cause chaos.”
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pupkane · 9 months ago
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You are such a good boy for getting fucked in mating press like all good pups should. The first time I fucked someone in mating press, the brat had kept blueballing me in other positions until i had enough of his attitude and put him in his place. I came inside him so hard, i was throbbing for what felt like minutes inside him. Then kept fucking him a bit more in my state of pure bliss having dumped my load balls deep, like a primal wolf in heat. Each thrust triggering him to make noises that were like music in my ears and i didn’t want it to stop.
He took it like a champ too, before he passed out from exhaustion once we were done. Honestly one of my best fucks. Congrats to you for being on the receiving end 😈
wait if i wanna get forced into a mating press all i have to do is be a brat first?? if i'd known that i would've been doing that all along
but honestly that sounds really hot and i'm kinda jealous that wasn't me :( lol
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mostlikelytofangirl · 2 years ago
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Aree you voting for Jiang Cheng in the meow meow competition?
(shame jiggy wasn't nominated, but at least someone Lan Zhan hates could still win)
Cont:
Jiang Cheng lost to yet another 'adopted' son 😔
-Regular Anon
OMG??? I didn't even know there was such competition going on D:
I haven't been around lately bc I haven't been feeling my best tbh ^^;. Barely tweeted here and there and just liking some posts here. Guess I'm missing on the good stuff :/
Damn, yeah, I just went checking and you right, anon. But if I'm completely honest tho, I cannot be fully disappointed as I'm a huge Loki fan as well XD. And there's really a lot of parallels between those two. Guess I have a type lol.
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lesbxdyke · 26 days ago
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how do you know when a fictional character is your f/o? i don't know if i self-ship with my oc or not
Hey sorry this took a hot second to answer.
For me, it feels the same as falling in love with someone irl.
Like, with 😈, it wasn't love at first sight, but it was pretty close. I thought he was cute and funny from the start and that quickly developed into a crush and now I'm in love with him.
Whereas with 🔪, I didn't like her at all to start with. But after interacting with her a few times in her canon game, I started to sympathise, then empathise, and then suddenly I was in love and I'm still not sure how that happened.
Whereas other characters I get obsessive with, I don't get those same fluttery in love feelings, so even though I love them with intensity (like Keyleth, or Alphinaud, or my own OCs), it's different.
Idk if I'm explaining myself super well, but for me, my relationships with my F/Os are just as important to me as my RL relationships, although I fully recognise the difference.
I hope this was even vaguely helpful!
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brattyspence · 25 days ago
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sugar lips | s.reid
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summary: (tweaked from request a lil bc im difficult.) early seasons!spencer/reluctant!spencer is so enamored by your lips and works up the courage to request head for the first time tags: 18+, MDNI. early seasons!spencer, same universe as ‘u up?’, oral (m receiving), finger sucking (??), no y/n, limited yucky words, reader is referred to as ‘woman’ and ‘girl’, spencer is down rlly rlly bad, reader swallows… idk what else. this is pure filth a/n: first request ever, thank u anon! sorry it took so long. i hope this doesn't suck, this is my first time publishing smut in ages and it was SO hard to write! word count: 1.2k masterlist
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Spencer, the lover boy to end all lover boys, who insisted he existed simply to worship the ground you walked on, had never ever made a request like this. If you had asked him a few weeks ago, he would have freaked. Spencer, who was so, so happy to simply exist in your orbit, who never asked for anything in return, who was more than happy to give give give and never receive, making this request.
Yet here you were, happily settled on his lap, the warmth of your body reflecting off him. You had been teasing him all night of course, but this was different. The soft murmurs of conversation between kisses seemed to be fueling something greater. 
“Did I smear my lip gloss?” You asked, pulling away slightly. 
God. The damn lip gloss. The bane of his existence. How could he ever treat you with respect and dignity when you were looking at him like that, glossy-lipped and doe eyed?
“Just a little.” His thumb trailed along the border of your lower lip briefly, catching on the sticky gloss briefly. “Still beautiful.”
He couldn't be sure what exactly happened in the next few seconds. He could have been responsible, sure, or maybe you had done it on your own accord, but somehow the pad of his thumb, which was just tracing your lower lip, had dipped in your mouth.
Germs. The term briefly crossed his mind, a distant echo. Bacteria and viruses and other things that were not designed for the human mouth, especially not for you, the woman he respected so much it hurt. Germs. Still, he couldn't finish that line of reasoning. Not when you were looking at him like that, and oh god, oh god, oh god–
He was so mesmerized by it. He watched the way you had so willingly taken his hand in yours and encouraged him along, gliding your way down and then back up. He watched the way you had slowly pulled away, leaving his skin damp and sticky with that damn lip gloss. Clearly he hadn't heard your question.
“Spence?”
“Hm?” You watched his eyes flit back up to yours.
A hint of a smile crossed your face. “Did that do something for you?”
“Did… that? Did that… do something for me?” 
“You got pretty quiet.” You still held his hand in yours as you pressed a kiss to his thumb again. “I could do it again.”
Spencer ten minutes ago would have been so, so upset. But that Spencer hadn't seen the spectacle you'd just created. He could only manage a slight nod.
You hadn't given him a second to finish processing the first part before he found you doing it again.
He was already formulating a protest, but it was weak. You could see it fizzle out with the string of saliva that snapped from your lips to his skin. 
“Hey,” you said, softly. “Talk to me.”
How on earth could he talk to you when you just did that?
“I just… wasn't expecting that,” he replied. 
“Mhm,” you nod. “But you liked it. You got a little flustered.”
“I… yeah.” It was useless denying it. 
You shifted in his lap, leaning a little closer. “I know you're thinking about something.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about it. You could feel his pulse under your fingertips. The gears in his head were busy ticking away.
“You looked pretty like that,” he replied, his voice soft. 
“With my mouth around you?”
“Yeah.” He swallowed audibly. “Mhm.”
You knew him well enough to know that he would never outright ask for something like that.
“Do you… want me to use my mouth somewhere else?”
He held your gaze for a second. You'd made this offer before, and he had aggressively turned it down in a string of “No, no, no baby. Don't worry about me”, but not this time.
“Please?”
You shifted off his lap in a split second before he could rethink his request. He considered it, of course, but you had settled down on the carpet with enthusiasm. He wasn’t even sure he was capable of turning you down when you were literally on your knees already.
You swiftly looped your fingers around his waistband, and you were surprised when he'd accommodated the motion, shifting his hips forward.
“Are you sure you-”
“Yes, Spencer. Would you please relax?”
His head fell back against the couch the moment your hand made contact. He was sure he couldn’t watch – not only was it defiling, but he was certain he wouldn’t last. Somehow, the second your lips wrapped around him, he threw all caution to the wind. 
An eidetic memory certainly had its perks, and he was damn sure putting all of them to use. This image, this entire moment, he knew would change him in irreversible ways, and none of them seemed to matter. 
You felt his fingertips gently brush the hair away from your face. He only hesitated for a moment before his hand came to rest on the back of your head, his thumb still rubbing circles against your cheek softly. He was looking at you with an incredible amount of awe.
“So pretty,” he breathed. “Jesus, angel. You look so–ah–so pretty.”
As you continued on, things only escalated. You had never seen him like his. Breathless, whiny, maybe. Desperate, absolutely. His eyes were heavily lidded, watching your every move as if missing the smallest detail would cause everything to crumble. He was half convinced that this was a dream, as he only ever let things like this happen in his imagination.
He was actively resisting the urge to tighten his hand in your hair, but you weren’t making it any easier. Your motions hadn’t relented in the slightest, and you didn’t exactly plan on letting up. 
“Baby–oh, fuck—baby, please,” he sighed. “You should… slow down.”
The words barely had a chance to leave his mouth before you reacted, of course doing the exact opposite. 
There were things Spencer never fully understood. Until now, he never understood the appeal of a blowjob. He didn’t do messy or sloppy. He thrived on selflessness, or at least he thought. But here he was, and here you were, changing that forever, nudging him closer and closer to the edge.
He had every intention of putting things on pause and finishing anywhere but in your mouth–but in the moment, his body did not want to follow his brain. 
He would feel bad about it later. 
You heard the momentary hitch in his breath. Then, the slight tightening of his fingers in your hair, and then the ever anticipated twitch against your tongue followed by the flood of warmth. 
After another minute, he finally managed to open his eyes again and draw his focus back in. 
You wiped your lips on the back of your hand, looking immensely proud of yourself at the same time. You could see the guilt hit him all at once as you looked up at him. 
“That wasn’t- I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened, and-” 
“Spencer,” you sighed, with a smile. “It’s fine. You were fine. I’m fine. I’m very happy.”
You climbed back up onto the couch next to him, brushing your knees off before settling in. 
“Are you… are you sure?”
“Mhm.” You nodded. “Are you happy?”
He sighed, and looked away for a second before returning his gaze to you. 
“Yeah.” He nodded. You could detect the faintest of smiles. “Very happy. Thank you, pretty girl."
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pathologicalreid · 8 months ago
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Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:
hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH
i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭
-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)
epiphany | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!
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epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.
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before
The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”
Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”
Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.
“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.
Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”
Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”
Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.
It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”
“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”
The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.
In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.
“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.
Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.
Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”
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during
There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.
Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.
“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.
Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”
His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.
You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.
It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.
If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.
“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.
Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.
A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.
“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.
Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.
Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.
“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.
Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.
Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.
Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.
With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.
It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.
The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.
Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”
I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.
He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.
The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.
There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.
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after
You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.
Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.
Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.
What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.
Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.
As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.
“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.
The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.
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epiphany
The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.
Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.
Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.
“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.
You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”
Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”
“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.
Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”
Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”
Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.
“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.
Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”
You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.
“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.
Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.
“You want to be who again?”
Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  
He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”
You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.
“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.
Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”
Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“
“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.
Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.
You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.
The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”
You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”
Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.
“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.
Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”
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2K notes · View notes
mcrdvcks · 24 days ago
Note
Could I request a one shot of Old Man Logan? Something with fluff and angst like a huge argument between him and his other half and Laura works to get them to make up after days of not talking
things i wish you said
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chapter summary: You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.
word count: 2.8k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: thank y'all for sending in requests! i've been working on the last chapter of i love you, in every time but i ran into a bit of writer's block so the requests really helped <3
anyways, i hope this was what you wanted anon!
warnings/tags: au of 'logan (2017)' aka logan doesn't die at the end, arguments, angst, laura being smarter than reader and logan, really this is just laura being a smartass, fluff
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"I can’t believe you!” You set the dish towel angrily down on the counter, glaring at Logan. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever met.”
Logan leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Yeah? Well, someone’s gotta be stubborn, considering you’re trying to fix a situation that ain’t broken.”
“It is broken, Logan!” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You just refuse to see it because that’s what you do! Shut everything out, pretend like nothing’s wrong until it all blows up in your face.”
His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “What’s wrong is you makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. I said I’ll handle it.”
“You handling it usually means disappearing for a week and coming back bloodied and brooding!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “God forbid you actually let someone help you for once.”
“I don’t need your help!” he barked, his voice rising. “I’ve been doin’ just fine on my own for years.”
“And look where that’s gotten you!” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the frustration boiling in your chest wouldn’t let you stop. “You’re not on your own anymore, Logan. When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?”
Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You don’t think I know that? I didn’t ask for any of this, but here we are. I’m doin’ the best I can, and it ain’t enough for you, is it?”
“That’s not what I said!” You took a step toward him, shaking your head in disbelief. “But you don’t even try to meet me halfway. You just... shut down and push me out the second it gets hard.”
“Maybe I’m tryin’ to protect you,” he shot back, his words laced with frustration.
“From what? From you?” Your voice cracked, the argument chipping away at the walls you’d built to keep your own emotions in check. “I’m not scared of you, Logan. What scares me is losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to let anyone in.”
Logan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. He stood there, breathing hard, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room, the screen door slamming behind him.
You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to go after him, to yell more, to make him understand. But another part of you was too tired—too hurt.
The house was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Laura walked in from the hallway. She didn’t say anything right away, just hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed in that way that made her look far older than her twelve years.
“You two are so loud,” she finally said, her tone flat but edged with something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.
You groaned, dropping your hands and looking over at her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” Laura replied, stepping further into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her sharp gaze studying your face. “You’re crying.”
You swiped at your cheek quickly, though you weren’t sure why. Laura didn’t miss much. “It’s nothing, kiddo.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she said, her tone even. She leaned her elbows on the table, her small hands clasped together. “You and Logan fight all the time now.”
“That’s not true,” you replied automatically, though the words felt hollow as soon as you said them.
Laura just stared at you, unblinking. “It is.”
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. That’s just how it is.”
“Yeah, but you’re mad at him all the time. And he’s mad at himself. It’s annoying.” Her bluntness cut through you, and she tilted her head. “Are you going to leave?”
“What? No.” The question startled you, and you leaned forward. “No, Laura. I’m not going anywhere. I love Logan. I just... wish he’d stop shutting me out.”
Laura didn’t say anything for a while. She just stared at you, her gaze as sharp as ever, like she was picking apart everything you’d just said.
Finally, she shrugged. “Then tell him.”
You blinked. “I have told him.”
“No, you yelled at him.” Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and it made you feel about two inches tall. “That’s not the same.”
You sighed, running a hand over your face. “It’s complicated, kid.”
Laura tilted her head. “No, it’s not. You’re mad. He’s mad. You both stop talking. Then you stay mad.”
You stared at her, caught off guard by how simple she made it sound. “It’s not that easy.”
Laura didn’t respond to that, just gave you a look—one of those looks that made you realize this twelve-year-old could probably win a staring contest with the Grim Reaper. She stood up without another word and walked back toward the hallway, leaving you sitting there with a mix of frustration, guilt, and... something else you couldn’t quite name.
---
The next few days were... quiet. Too quiet. Logan didn’t come around much, and when he did, it was brief—mostly to grab a beer or say a gruff goodnight. You didn’t push him, not yet, but the silence between you was its own kind of argument.
You also knew that he wasn’t sleeping in bed with you. You could tell because you’d wake up early for work, only to find Logan sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling off the armrest. You would’ve woken him up—told him to go to bed while you left—but you stopped yourself every time. The anger hadn’t completely faded, but it had started to feel hollow, replaced by something heavier.
This morning was no different. You paused in the living room doorway, coffee in hand, watching him. He was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed quietly to yourself.
“Just go to bed, idiot,” you muttered under your breath, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.
---
Laura stood in the doorway of the garage, watching Logan fiddle with the same part of the truck he’d been pretending to fix for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there, arms crossed, her quiet presence heavy enough that Logan eventually sighed.
“You gonna say somethin’ or just stand there starin’?” he muttered without looking up, his voice rough.
Laura shrugged. “You’re not fixing anything.”
Logan’s hands paused for half a second before he went back to the wrench, a little harder this time. “Truck needs work.”
“It doesn’t,” Laura said bluntly. “You’re hiding.”
Logan froze again, jaw tightening. “Ain’t hidin’.”
“You are,” she insisted. Laura took a step closer, eyeing him like he was some kind of experiment she was studying. “You and Y/N are mad. It’s annoying.”
Logan finally looked up at her, scowling. “What’s annoying is you stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”
Laura didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, unfazed as ever. “If you don’t talk to her, she’s going to leave.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wrench tightened. “She’s not gonna leave.”
Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
Logan stared at her, expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer. He looked back at the truck instead, as if the bolts and metal could give him something to focus on. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”
Laura stepped closer, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I know you. And I know her. She cries when you’re not looking.”
Logan stilled, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to think about it.
Laura didn’t stop. “You think shutting her out makes her safer, but it doesn’t. It just makes her sad.”
“Laura,” Logan said sharply, his voice low.
She ignored the warning in his tone. “You don’t want her to leave, but you’re acting like you do.”
That hit something, and Logan finally set the wrench down, exhaling harshly. “You don’t get it.”
“I do.” Laura’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath it. “You’re scared. You don’t want to need her.”
Logan looked at her, his scowl deeper now, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah? Where’d you get all that from?”
Laura shrugged. “I watch you. I listen. You’re both loud.”
Logan shook his head and ran a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”
She just tilted her head. “You’re worse.”
Logan let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Great. So now I’m gettin’ life advice from a twelve-year-old.”
Laura shrugged again and turned to leave. “If you don’t talk to her, I will.”
That got his attention. “Hey—”
But she was already walking out of the garage, not bothering to look back. “You’re welcome,” she called flatly.
Logan swore under his breath, watching her disappear. He sat there for a moment, hands resting on his knees, staring at the half-fixed truck. He hated that kid sometimes—hated how she could cut right through him like that.
And worse, she was right.
---
You came back from work late, opting to eat out instead of at home to avoid any awkward interactions. By the time you walked through the door, the house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light. You set your bag down quietly, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.
But as you turned toward the living room, you noticed Logan sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at you—his gaze was fixed on the floor, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together.
You hesitated, debating whether to say anything or just go straight to bed. Before you could decide, his gravelly voice cut through the silence.
“You didn’t come home last night.”
You froze, then blinked. “What?”
He finally looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Laura told me. Said she noticed. I didn’t.”
You frowned, your heart sinking a little. “Logan, I—”
“I should’ve noticed,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s on me.”
You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “I didn’t stay out because of you.”
“Yeah, you did,” he replied bluntly, cutting you off again. “You’re avoiding me. I get it.”
The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was resigned to it—made something twist in your chest. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed... space.”
Logan scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Space. Right. Because I’m such a walk in the park to be around.”
“Logan—”
“I get it,” he repeated, louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to explain it. I know what I’m like. Hell, Laura reminds me every day.”
You shook your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t about Laura. It’s not even about you being... difficult. It’s about you not letting me in.”
He stiffened at that, his jaw clenching. “I’m tryin’.”
“Are you?” Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re just waiting for me to give up.”
His eyes flicked to yours, and for a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost bitter. “I don’t know how to let someone in without... screwin’ it all up.”
You stared at him, the anger you’d been holding onto slipping away, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Logan. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”
“I am trying,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “It just... doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”
“It is,” you said firmly, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him. “But you can’t keep shutting me out every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”
He looked up at you, his expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied your face like he was trying to decide whether to believe you.
Finally, he let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you have to let me stay.”
Logan nodded slowly, like he was finally starting to understand. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll... figure it out.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile.
He didn’t smile back, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours. “You eaten?”
You blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What?”
“You look tired,” he said gruffly. “Bet you skipped dinner.”
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”
"Good," he muttered again, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale. His hand moved to the bottle of whiskey, but instead of picking it up, his fingers drummed against the glass absently.
You hesitated, then walked over to the couch, standing just in front of him. “Logan.”
He looked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly, waiting for you to say whatever was on your mind.
Instead, you sat down beside him, close enough that your knees touched. For a second, neither of you said anything. Then Logan let out another heavy sigh, reached over, and pulled you into his lap with a quiet grunt.
“Logan—”
“Just sit,” he said, his tone softer than usual, though still carrying that gruff edge. One of his hands rested lightly on your hip, the other settled on your thigh. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in him start to ease as he let himself rest against you.
Your hands moved up instinctively, one settling on his arm, the other gently threading through his hair. He didn’t say anything at first, just breathed deeply, the weight of the past few days pressing down on both of you.
“You should come to bed tonight,” you murmured after a while, your voice quiet but steady.
Logan didn’t move, but you felt the way his body tensed under you. “I’m fine out here.”
“You’re not,” you said simply, your fingers brushing through his hair again. “You look miserable on this couch.”
He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “I’ll survive.”
“That’s not the point,” you pressed. “I want you in bed. With me. Where you belong.”
Logan lifted his head then, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was guarded, but there was something softer there too, like he was considering your words. “You sure you want me there?”
“Of course I’m sure,” you said, your hand moving to cup his jaw. “I always want you there, Logan. Even when I’m mad at you. Especially when I’m mad at you.”
That earned a faint smirk from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I was much for sharing a bed with someone.”
“Well, you’re not great at it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You steal the blankets, and you snore.”
“Don’t snore,” he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.
“You absolutely snore,” you shot back, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t care. I just want you there.”
Logan studied you for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”
You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “Good.”
For a few minutes, you stayed like that, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable. Logan’s head rested against your chest, and you could feel the tension slowly draining out of him as your fingers moved lazily through his hair.
“Y’know,” he muttered after a while, his voice low, “Laura’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”
You chuckled softly. “She’s just looking out for you. For us.”
Logan grunted, his arm tightening around you slightly. “Kid’s too damn smart for her own good.”
“She gets that from you,” you said, smiling.
That earned another faint smirk, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing as he rested against you. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Good,” you said softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair.
For the first time in days, the tension between you felt like it was beginning to mend.
697 notes · View notes
queenshelby · 2 months ago
Text
Playing Doctor
Pairing: Tommy Shelby (Stepfather) x Reader (Stepdaughter)
Warning: DDLG, No-Plot
Requested: YES! P.s. sorry anon it took me so long!
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It was your 20th birthday a few weeks ago and your stepfather, Thomas Shelby, whom you have been calling 'daddy' for some time now, insisted on having a little chat with you after everyone else had retired for the night.
Just like every other night, when you walked into his study, you noticed that it was dimly lit, the faintest glow seeping through the heavy oak furniture inside.
"Close the door, and lock it sweetheart," he ordered you as you stepped into the room and you replied with a simple "yes daddy" as you had learnt. 
He sat facing you, the chair groaning softly under his weight, hands folded on his lap. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked the seconds away with a solemnity that filled the room.
"Good girl," he murmured, a hint of a smile flickering on his lips before gesturing for you to have a seat. "Always so well behaved ."
You nodded meekly, suppressing a shiver as his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail of your appearance. 
Thomas Shelby was not an easy man to read. He held the world in a tight grip, his ruthless intelligence driving his criminal empire ever forward.
Beneath that rough exterior, though, a darkness festered, a secret that he took great care to keep hidden. His home was a castle, sealed from the outside world, and inside that castle you were his most prized possession.
"Now sweetheart, do you remember when daddy said that, after you turned twenty, there would come a day where you would have to take care of daddy's needs sometimes?" he asked , eyes searching your face.
You lowered your gaze, nodding nervously, unable to keep your voice from betraying your anxiety when you said, "Yes daddy," not knowing what this would entail.
"Good girl , I knew you'd remember," he replied with a ghost of a smile.  "Now tonight, I think, daddy just wants to play a little game with you. You like games, don't you?"
Thomas said, rising from his chair and approaching you slowly. The tension in the air was palpable as he stood over you.
"Yes daddy," you said, smiling. "What kind of game do you want to play? Do you want to play cards ?" Your question was barely audible, but he heard you nonetheless.
"No sweetheart," he said, running his fingers over your hair, playing with it. His hands then wandered down to your neck, leaving you slightly short of breath. "No cards tonight."
The way his fingers trailed up and down the nape of your neck sent shivers down your spine, making you tremble in your seat. Despite the fear creeping in, you held Thomas' gaze.
"Tonight, daddy wants to play doctor and patient," he explained, his tone softer than ever, lips curling in a smile that sent another chill down your spine.
"Doctor and patient?" You whispered, not entirely certain where he was going with this, but feeling the weight of it settle heavily on your shoulders.
"Yes, darling, you see, there are some things daddy needs to check. Just like a real doctor would," he assured you, eyes gleaming mysteriously in the dim light. "So you will pretend to be the patient, and I will be the doctor. Alright?"
Your heart began to race, your breathing shallow.
"I'm not sure if I know how to do that, daddy," you admitted, swallowing hard.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll show you," he cooed, stepping closer to you until he stood right in front of you. "But first, daddy needs his good little girl to take off her pretty panties." 
You blinked, taken aback. "Right now?" you asked in a small voice, eyes wide with fear and confusion.
He nodded faintly.
Slowly, you pulled yourself up to your feet and reached under your gown to remove the only barrier between him and his exploration. You felt a shiver of embarrassment, even shame, as you dropped them on the floor before stepping out of them.
"That's a good girl," Thomas murmured approvingly, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. "Now remember, darling, we are just playing a game here. Nothing more, nothing less," Thomas reassured, though the words did little to comfort you.
Despite his attempt at being gentle, there was a hint of steel in his eyes that reminded you of who exactly was in charge here. The tension in the air had grown unbearable, the oppressive silence of the room weighing heavily on your shoulders.
"Now I am going to put a towel here, so that we can be clean and comfortable," Thomas told you, pointing to the sofa in the corner of the room. He picked up a towel folded neatly on a cabinet, placing it on the bed. Then he looked at you, giving a reassuring nod before walking towards you.
You stood still, waiting for his instructions. He approached you slowly and met your eyes, his gaze piercing. With a steady hand, he guided you towards the sofa.
"Up on the towel, baby girl," he whispered impatiently. You complied, sitting on the fluffy towel, legs shut tight.
"Lean back and lift your feet up onto the couch. Then let your knees fall apart for daddy," he said. His instructions came out as if he was talking about the most normal thing in the world. 
"But daddy, you will see my private parts," you said, your voice shaky with worry.
"That's the idea sweetheart," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "We need to make sure you are ready down there for daddy to make you a woman."
You shuddered, but slowly lifted your feet onto the couch like he instructed. Then, you let your knees fall apart. You could feel a profound chill in the room, like it was waiting with bated breath for what would come next.
"Good girl," Thomas said soothingly, stroking your hair as he kneeled down in front of you. 
You watched as he placed a bottle of lubricant on the table next to him, along with some tissues.
"Keep your legs open for me, sweetheart," he murmured, gently shifting your legs apart.
"But daddy," you whispered, gripping the edges of the couch, as his hands made their way up your thighs.
"Shh, good girl. Daddy will just have a look inside your little hole now, okay?" He asked gently, his thumb now tracing the outline of your opening cautiously before using two fingers to open your labia.
You couldn't find words. You stared at the books lining his shelves, watching the dust particles glint in the dim light as he opened you up.
"Daddy's girl is so nice and pink inside," he commented, seemingly pleased at the sight of your insides.  "And I can see that you have been a good girl and have not been fooling around with any boys yet, haven't you sweetheart?"
"No, daddy," you replied weakly, glancing away from the intimate scene unfolding before you.
"That's good. Just like you promised me. Good girl," he said in a low voice, before leaning down even closer to you.
"And now daddy's going to put one of his fingers inside your precious little hole, okay?" Thomas murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, he pressed his index finger gently against your opening and pushed it in slowly, making you gasp.
"Shh ," he urged you, his voice soft and low as if he was trying to soothe a frightened kitten. "Daddy's is going to be gentle. Promise."
You bit your lip and nodded, unable to find your voice in the turmoil of your thoughts. The feeling of his rough finger inside your slick warmth was alien, unwelcome, yet not entirely unpleasant.
Thomas's gaze remained fixed on his hand between your legs, and you could see the corners of his lips pull up in a slight smirk. "You're doing great, honey. I'm going to try and move it around a little," he said soothingly, as if trying to encourage a frightened animal.
He gently moved his finger in and out, his thumb pressing against your clitoris.
As uncomfortable as the intrusion was, something changed in you as he explored and touched you. A strange, hot sensation bloomed in your belly and spread downward with each of his movements. You felt yourself growing wetter and tried to squirm away, but Thomas held you steady.
"Shh, sweetheart, don't be scared," he whispered. "This is okay.
This is just a game," you told yourself, trying to convince yourself that the feeling in your body was not real. But the truth was, your bodies had a language of their own and the way Thomas touched you, the way he moved inside you, seemed to speak louder than any words.
"You're a natural, sweetheart," Thomas said, his voice still soothing. You swallowed the painful lump in your throat and nodded, not responding as you listened to the sounds of his finger slipping in and out of your hole.
"I am going to add another finger now, okay sweetheart?" he said, inserting his middle finger beside his index one carefully, stretching our your small opening.
Your body tensed at the sensation, but Thomas kept you calm with soothing words. "Relax, sweetheart. I know it's strange, but you need to relax so I can check everything," Thomas assured you, and you tried your best to oblige.
"It feels funny down there , daddy," you admitted, wincing slightly as his fingers probed deeper.
"That's normal, my sweet girl. You're just not used to it yet," Tommy whispered as he began to move his fingers in and out of you with more conviction. "Your body needs to get accustomed to these new sensations, to daddy's touch."
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do or say. But then, you nodded silently, closing your eyes and submitting to his touch. From the way he moved his fingers inside you, you could tell that Tommy was definitely an experienced man, which shouldn't have surprised you.
"Daddy 's fingers are quite big, aren't they?" Tommy said nonchalantly, grinning at the look on your face.
You could only blink at him, feeling an odd sort of excitement mingling with the discomfort. 
Tommy then pulled his fingers out, allowing a trail of wetness to run down your inner thigh and, suddenly, the room was heavy with tension, and he looked at you as if he were about to reveal some great secret.
"Oh look how wet you are
, baby girl. Does that feel good?" He asked in a hushed voice, like it was just between the two of you. 
"I think so daddy. It hurts a little but it feels nice and tingly too," you said as you squirmed under his gaze and the soft tugging of your thighs as he gently separated your legs a little further.
Thomas let out a low chuckle as he unbuckled his belt and began to undo his trousers.  "That's good. That is how it is supposed to feel, sweetheart," he teased, his eyes never leaving your face as he traced the outline of his penis through his briefs.
You swallowed nervously, glancing away from his growing bulge and focusing instead on the faint patterns of the tapestry that graced the wall opposite his massive wooden bed.
" Now, I want you to keep those legs open nice and wide," Thomas told you, his voice a low rumble in the dimly lit room as he pushed his trousers and underwear down to his kneed before kneeling in between your legs.
"Daddy,  I don't know about this," you said in a trembling voice, staring at the slightly curved, swollen head of his penis as he moved closer.
"It's okay sweetheart," Tommy said, smirking as he grasped his manhood and continued to approach you. "It's just another part of the game."
"Daddy is just using his special tool now to open up your little hole as it is supposed to be. That's all," he said, trying to reassure you with a gentle tone.
His manhood glistened in the soft lighting of the room, and you couldn't help but feel a knot of fear twist in your stomach as you watched him slowly guide himself towards your entrance.
"Good girl," he said once more as, finally, you felt the tip of his hardness nestled between your labia . He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the unfamiliar feeling before slowly exhaling and pushing himself inside you just a little.
"Just a little pressure now, sweetheart. I know it hurts your cherry, but daddy will take it nice and slow," Thomas murmured as he inched further inside, drawing hushed gasps from you.
"Daddy 's little princess is doing so well," he reassured softly, with tenderness flickering across his face. With measured thrusts and slow withdraws, Thomas slowly pushed deeper into you.
You bit into your lower lip hard to wrestle back a whimper, gripping the towel beneath you as waves of discomfort danced down your spine. It felt as if your flesh were stretching tight around his shaft, an intimate intrusion that was both terrifying and mesmerizing. 
"I feel really full , daddy," you gasped, your breath hitching as he continued to slowly thrust himself in deeper, your slickness helping to ease his passage.
"I know." Thomas nodded solemnly, placing his hands gently on either side of your hips. "Daddy's special tool is almost all  the way inside you now, darling. It gets comfortable soon, I promise."
You nodded hesitantly, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and intrigue as your body started to adjust. It wasn't exactly painful anymore, more like a heavy kind of fullness that you found difficult to comprehend.
He leaned forward a little and asked, "How are you feeling now princess?"
You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to deal with the unfamiliar sensation, before finally managing to stammer, "It's... different, daddy. I feel so full."
Thomas smiled, caressing your cheeks. "That's good , sweetheart. When daddy's inside you, it's just the two of us in our own little world."
He began to move slowly, inching farther inside you while his arms wound around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
"Now daddy will move his special tool around slowly, okay sweetheart?" he asked gently as he readjusted his position and began to rock back and forth.
"Relax and let daddy take control, just like always," he whispered soothingly in your ear, the warmth from his voice making you more at ease than before.
"O-okay daddy," you said softly, trying to keep still and relax the muscles that clenched around him.
Soon, his pace picked up and your breath came in sync with his as he penetrated you with more force, his chest heaving with exertion as he took you.
The familiar scents of leather, tobacco, and aftershave enveloped your senses as he moved deeper into you.
"Daddy isn't hurting you, baby, is he?" he growled out, his rhythm picking up as he lost himself in you.
"No, daddy. It feels . . . weird, but good too," you breathed out, letting go of the last of your reservations.
"Good," he growled out, his rhythm picking up even more rapidly.
"That's my good girl," he said before running his thumb over your clit while thrusting in and out of you.
Your breath hitched, your heartbeat spiked, and the warm sensation in your tummy blossomed once more.
"Daddy," you gasped, the feeling coursing its way through your veins as you tried to stifle your moans.
"Shh, don't worry, sweetheart. Just let it happen," Thomas assured you between breaths.
You closed your eyes and let your head fall back, giving yourself over to the tide of pleasure that washed over you.
The room was hazy around the edges, and all you could focus on was the feeling of Thomas's body moving inside you, the slide of his pole in and out of your warm depths.
"Daddy,"  you murmured, unable to form a complete that could possibly convey the maelstrom of emotion and feeling tearing through you when you finally reached your climax.
The waves of pleasure were so immense and so absolutely consuming that even the word "daddy" seemed to fall short.
But for Thomas, "daddy" was the most important word of all. It was his favorite name to hear pour from your lips, and as he felt you tighten, pulse, and shudder around him in the midst of pure unbridled ecstasy, it was as if the walls of his castle had come crumbling down.
"That's my good, good girl," Tommy murmured earnestly, as he continued to thrust into your tight, wet heat, his hands sliding down your slick flesh to caress your curves, trace your shapes, and drink you in.
"Daddy is going to put some special medicine in your little hole now," he groaned, chasing his own climax now. "It will feel nice and warm when it goes in."
The room was seconds away from exploding, and you closed your eyes tightly as Tommy thrust one last time into you, the walls of your sex contracting around him as he stilled completely.
"Here you go. Fuck," he cursed as he released a torrent of  hot fluid into you.
You could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside you for a moment. It was an odd sensation, something you couldn't quite put into words. It spread through your body, muddling with the remaining echoes of your own climax.
The look on his face was indescribable. His eyes were half-lidded, lips parted in a silent cry, and the lines of stress on his face seemed to melt away for that brief moment.
He stayed there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. The heaviness of his limbs atop you was oddly soothing.
Some part of you wanted to hold on to that moment, while another part screamed to be let go.
Thomas leaned in close, his lips brushing your cheek. "I'm going to pull out now, baby," he whispered.
You whimpered softly as he carefully slid himself out of you and felt his warm essence dribble down the insides of your thighs. 
"You're daddy's good girl, aren't you?" he murmured proudly in your ear. "Now lets check if everything went well."
He looked into your eyes as his fingers gently explored your entrance. You shivered slightly at his cold touch, both physically and emotionally as a feeling of shame washed over you. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed that moments earlier, you had welcomed this very same intrusion with pleasure.
Thomas started sliding his fingers in and out softly, observing your reaction. It wasn't long before a slight flush crept up your cheeks. "It looks perfect," he told you. "Just a tiny bit swollen." Thomas approved, smiling warmly as he tucked his fingers away before planting a tender kiss on the tip of your nose.
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iomoru · 2 months ago
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oohh a fic with genshin men (kinich, kazuha, wriothesley, scara) where they accidentally hurt you (minor only - like scratches, not physical abuse or anyt) while in a heated argument and then a part on how they would apologize? tyty just a quick drabble I had in my head while scrolling Tumblr ^.^
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Sincere Regrets
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➢ 𝐀/𝐧: I deeply apologize for the late reply Neptune anon, I lost the motivation to write lately so I didn't manage to write this quickly. Although I do hope this satisfies your needs!<3 (^ω^)
➢ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Canon Verse, Light Angst, Angst w/ comfort, Gn! Reader, Second Person, Not Proofread
➢ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐬: Kinich, Kazuha, Wriothesley, Scaramouche
➢ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In the heat of an argument, you're accidentally hurt by his actions. Regret follows quickly, and he apologizes, showing how much he truly cares for you.
© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.
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Kinich
The argument was over his stubbornness. You had been walking beside him when you reached out to stop him from recklessly walking into danger.
“Let me handle it!” he snapped, brushing your hand away. But his hand caught yours with more force than he intended, pushing you slightly backward. You stumbled, tripping on a loose stone.
He immediately turned, his fiery gaze softening into alarm. “I didn’t mean to…” His voice faltered as he reached for you, pulling you upright with unexpected gentleness.
Later that night, he sat beside you by the fire. “I shouldn’t have acted like that,” he murmured, his golden eyes dim with regret. “Your safety matters more to me than anything, even my pride. I’m sorry for hurting you.” He carefully took your hand, tracing where he’d accidentally struck it, his touch filled with reverence.
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Kazuha
The storm outside matched the intensity of your argument. Kazuha rarely raised his voice, but the disagreement had pushed him past his usual calm demeanor.
“I don’t need your pity!” he exclaimed, turning sharply. In his frustration, his shoulder bumped into yours, sending you back a step against the table behind you.
His eyes widened, his anger dissipating instantly. “Are you alright?” His hands hovered near you, unsure if you wanted his touch after what had happened.
Later, he stood with his back to you, his voice soft yet steady. “I’ve let my emotions cloud my judgment, and in doing so, I hurt the one person I cherish most.” He turned to face you, his gaze filled with quiet sincerity. “Will you let me make it up to you?”
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Wriothesley
The argument had been brewing for a while, like steam building up in one of the massive pressure chambers in his domain. He paced the room, his usual composure slipping.
“Stop acting like you know what’s best for me!” he growled, throwing his hands up in frustration. One of them accidentally brushed against your arm with a surprising amount of force, pushing you slightly into the doorframe.
The sound of the impact made him freeze. He immediately crossed the space between you, his hands cradling your face. “Did I—did I hurt you?” His voice was low, filled with panic he couldn’t hide.
He spent the rest of the evening by your side, an ice pack in hand even though the mark had already faded. “I shouldn’t have lost control,” he admitted, his stormy eyes soft. “You mean more to me than my temper ever will. Please forgive me.”
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Scaramouche
“Why do you always have to push me?” His words were sharp, cutting deeper than you’d like to admit. In his exasperation, he turned, his hand accidentally brushing against your shoulder. The force wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you stumble slightly.
You steadied yourself, glaring at him. The anger in his eyes flickered, quickly replaced by guilt. “I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to…” He struggled to find the words, his expression tense.
Later, he found you sitting alone, his footsteps hesitant as he approached. “Look,” he began, his voice softer than usual, “I know I’m awful at showing it, but I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He awkwardly held out a small pouch of your favorite snack. “This doesn’t fix everything, but… I’ll try harder. I promise.”
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honeylullaby · 2 months ago
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“You have no idea what ‘ya doing to me, do ‘ya?” PT 1
(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader PT 1
Suggestion by my sweet anon / SPOILER 🫶🏽 Maud has unexpectedly took off for London, leaving Declan alone. He could never touch, or even look, at another. Or could he?…
18+ FANFIC / SMUT. Unfortunately I got rather carried away so this one is fairly long. Hopefully it’s not boring! Reader character aged at 21. Pls leave requests in my ask box 🫶🏽🫶🏽
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It has been 3 weeks, 2 days, 9 hours & 32 minutes since Maud O’Hara took leave for London — not like Declan is counting. And since then, he has spent every day with his mouth firmly clasped over a bottle of whiskey, and sleeping between the dewy blades of grass at The Priory. Taggie had since grown tired of peeling her intoxicated father from the ground and had ordered him into the village to gather supplies for her next catering job.
Begrudgingly, Declan stumbled through the village shop, throwing items from Taggie’s list into his basket. You, however, were having a mundanely average day. Filling your basket with fresh fruit and cream for a majority of your shop, you lingered for just a second by the bakery. Expecting the comforting smell of fresh bread, the sharp musk of wood shavings & rosemary aftershave danced through your nostrils as a suited man with a distinguished moustache appeared next to you, nonchalantly swiping a loaf of bread into his basket. Your slender hand reached out for a tiger loaf, just as he began his next embittered swipe.
“Sorry. Oh, hello.” He muttered under his breath, as he recognised you as the receptionist from the hellhole that is Corinium. “It’s okay. Go for it.” You reply, filling your face with a friendly smile. Hearing the melodious tone of your voice, Declan looked up to meet your gaze. The breath caught in his throat as he drank you in from top to bottom — from the gentle black kitten heels to your carefully curled brunette hair. “No, no. Take it.” He spoke, softening his voice and motioning his hand towards the bread. What a stunning girl. He had never noticed before. As you shot him another gentle smile, you picked up the loaf, popped it into your basket and begun to walk on the opposite direction. Watching your every move, Declan kept a firm concentration on your floral dress, admiring the elasticated hem that hugged your waist so tightly. Now that Maud has gone, surely he’s allowed to at least look at another woman— something he would’ve never dreamt of doing in his previous life.
Trudging out of the shop’s door with plastic bags clinging from your arms, the man is leaning against the wall, puffing furiously on his cigarette. “Hello again, Declan. You really didn’t have do that.” You immediately begin, sweat beading on your forehead. “Ahh, don’t worry,” A painstaking awkward silence ensued. The smell of his musk was intoxicating— comforting and manly. “How’s life treatin’ ‘ya workin’ for that cunt Baddingham?” He spoke Tony’s name like he was spitting it out, vile and sour-tasting. “You don’t have to… you don’t have to make small talk.” You mutter, turning away from him and beginning your walk home. Sure enough, Declan was striding to catch up with you, eyes firmly fixed on your svelte legs as you walked. “I’m not makin’ small talk. I’m just askin’. Everyone makes out that I’m a bastard, but-“ Your hand shot up to silence him. Declan’s pessimistic commentary was unbearable at the best of times, but you couldn’t stand to hear it right now. Being unable to hear anymore, you strutted off, being extra sure to sway your hips as you go, praying that he was watching. He definitely was.
Bursting through his own front door, Declan collapsed his shopping bags onto the floor and practically threw himself onto his sofa. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way your legs looked under that skirt. Caramel bronze, effortlessly smooth. The way the bottom of your ample cheeks just about slipped into sight as you swayed. Fuck. Closing his eyes and unzipping his trousers, Declan released his cock from the confines of his boxer shorts. He was aching, and dripping pre-cum from something as innocent as your legs. Clasping his hand around his girth, he began to pump himself slowly — imagination leading the way. Just picturing the soft skin of your breasts as he grabs a handful whilst simultaneously thrusting himself inside you. The aroma of your hot, sweet breath as you moan into his mouth, every pump taking you another second closer to ecstasy. Declan’s thighs twitched as he pictured you taking him into your mouth, humming gently on his cock as you forced him deep into your throat. Fuck, this was getting too much to bare. Pumping his hand faster, he could practically feel your tight walls enveloping him, closing around him like a tight hug. It was all too much.. he’s gonna cum. Im keeps with the worst timing humanely possible, there was a gentle knock on the front door. “Go. Away.” Declan managed to grunt out through gritted teeth. And predictably so, the mystery guest knocked once again. A few seconds pass. Angry, stomping footsteps. Door swinging open and… “WHAT?” The Irishman bellowed — half furious at having his wank disturbed, half grieving over the stunning image of you he won’t be able to get back.
“Oh, sorry, I- I just wanted to say sorry for being rude earlier. But you’re, umm… obviously busy.” You mumble under your breath, fidgeting with your hands nervously. Declan’s flies were unzipped, with a rather curious wet patch seeping through. Your eyes glazed over, and darted immediately to the side, cheeks blazing in pure crimson embarrassment. “Come in.” He replied, fighting off a smirk and zipping his trousers back up. Hesitantly, you sit on the sofa, trying not to take up any space and keeping your hands clasped together in your lap. “Drink?” Declan asks, showcasing a rather expensive looking bottle of whiskey. “No, thank you. Don’t let me stop you though.” You smile, pearly teeth on show. He wouldn’t let it stop him regardless — pouring himself a huge glass, sitting down next to you and knocking the glass back like a shot before pouring another. “As I said, sorry for being rude earlier. You caught me at a bad time,” You begin to tell your endless, anxious story, crossing your legs and exposing the laced line of your thongs under your painstakingly short skirt. Declan cracked his neck side to side, too afraid to look. Out of respect.. of course.
Pouring himself his third glass and sparking his 12th cigarette of the day, his clumsy, (almost) drunken hand knocked the lid of his whiskey bottle onto the floor. “Oh, let me get that.” Time to go on for the kill. Just about lifting yourself from the sofa, you bent over to retrieve the lid — the lining of your skirt almost touching your lower back, pink lace thong tucked neatly between your behind .. a full frontal view of your shapely arse. “You have no idea what ya’ doin’ to me, do ya?” Declan growled under his breath, collar growing increasingly hotter and his bulge threatening to tear through his trousers. Pretending not to hear him, you sit back down and screw the lid back onto the bottle.
“Hmm? Did you… say something?” You question, closing the gap between you both, hot breath reverberating off him. You have always found Declan O’Hara unbearably sexy.. Why not take your opportunity? “No. Have ya’ come here just ta’ be a fuckin’ tease, or did ya’ actually want sumtin’?” He snarls in the most playful manner he possibly can. You’ve had your fair share of men leering at you, but there was something so passionate and inebriating about Declan that made your loins ache. “Why would I be teasing you?” Eyes widening innocently as you talk, wrapping your hand around his fingers and guiding it to the fabric of your thong. Instinctively, he ran his fingers over your clothed slit, grunting carnally as he felt the material soak under your heat. “Fuck. I can’t. Maud.” He moaned breathlessly, the image of his sweet wife’s face clouding his mind. It mustn’t have bothered him too much, as he was soon pushing your panties to one side and swiping his pointing finger across your clit. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ wet.”
Unable to resist the devilish temptation any longer, Declan delved two fingers inside you, hooking and pulling towards him instantly. The sudden shock of pleasure made you groan with all your lungs capacity. The sound of him coaxing out your wetness paired with your affirming moans was enough to make him blow his load then and there. “Fuck, Declan.” You belt out, feeling your orgasm grow closer, your thighs tightening and your stomach binding. “Yeah? Ya’ like my fingers inside ya’?” The man asks, speaking into your ear, the bristles of his moustache sending a chill down your spine. Feeling you clench around his fingers, he lowers himself to the ground, beginning to lap at your clit like a ravenous animal, hungry for your orgasm and fiendish for the taste of you.
The front door opens and the man you recognise as Rupert Campbell-Black lingers by the frame, puffing a cigarette and smirking with pride. “Oh fuck!” You scream, pulling one of Declan’s velvet cushions over your lower half. Menacingly, Declan threw himself up. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rupert, don’t you ever knock?” His tone increasing in volume with each word.
“I’m so sorry. This was a mistake, this was…” You manage to push out, your eyes brimming with tears. How utterly embarrassing. It’s dawned on you what a huge mistake you’re making. Fastening your skirt and brushing tears from your eye, you fly out the door as fast as your legs would take you — brutally aware of a furious yet saddened Declan calling your name from his open living room. “Fuck.. please!” He shouted again, running his hands over his face.
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vanteguccir · 10 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟯
         𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @remussbitch
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
1.
Y/N sat on Matt's lap, who was sitting on his gaming chair, stretching her torso so that she could reach her phone that was on the computer desk.
The TikTok camera screen was already open and ready to start recording. The girl quickly clicked the red button before settling on Matt's thighs, smiling slightly.
Matt's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest.
"Hi guys! After many requests from you, today, Matt will finally tell how we started our relationship." She explained to the camera while gesturing.
"That's right! Well, as you already know we grew up in the same neighborhood-" Matt stopped his sentence when his eyes focused on Y/N through the phone screen, seeing her upper lip stuck above her teeth, forming a beaver smile. "Babe, are you okay?" He moved slightly away from her, leaning to his left side so he could see her side profile up close.
"Yes, why?" Y/N dropped her expression, looking back at him with a frown as if he were crazy.
"Nothing." He shook his head, raising his eyebrows before returning to his starting position. "So, Mary Lou knew Y/N's mom-" Matt stopped abruptly when he saw her making the same face out of the corner of his eye.
The boy took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily while shaking his head before looking at her phone, about to speak again.
Y/N quickly returned with the weird smile, looking at him from the corner of her eyes as she swallowed her laugh.
"Y/N, stop! I'm trying to tell the story!" Matt spoke, his tone coming out slightly irritated. His hands grabbed his girlfriend's waist and pushed her slightly forward, making her sit on his knees. "So, she was always in my house just like I was in hers. We were inseparable-"
"Yes!" Y/N nodded repeatedly, opening a huge smile.
"Oh my God... You're going to give me nightmares if you keep this up." Matt sighed deeply.
"But I'm not doing anything!" The girl replied, noticing him starting to get upset.
"You be like-" He imitated the huge smile before rolling his eyes. "Are you making fun of my smile because of my big teeth?"
"What? Baby, of course not. I'm-" Y/N interrupted her sentence when she saw Matt's eyes take on a sad look, looking at her seriously while pressing his lips into a thin line. "Babe, no! I love your smile more than anything." She insisted, tilting her upper body to the side so she could see him over her shoulder.
"But then why do you keep doing this?" Matt looked up at her again, his tone full of insecurity, a frown decorating his face.
"Oh my love, it's just a prank! I love your smile, I promise. No wonder I compliment it all the time." Y/N moved so that she was sitting sideways on Matt's lap, raising her hands to his face, cupping his jaw affectionately.
"Hm..." He muttered, looking at the camera for a second before focusing on her face, a small smile growing on his lips. "I'll finish telling it with you like this now then." Matt raised his right hand, pressing his palm against his girlfriend's lips jokingly.
Y/N threw her head back, letting out a loud laugh, feeling relief to see her boy happy again.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
2.
"I'm dating a triplet, of course most of our dates will be interrupted by one of his brothers." Y/N spoke to the front camera of her phone, before double clicking on the screen so that the back one recorded her boyfriend, Matt, and his brother, Chris, sitting on the other side of the table, side by side.
Chris had an almost childish smile on his face and bright eyes, his hand resting on the table; while Matt had a look of boredom, his head resting in the palm of his hand, which was held up by his elbow on the wooden surface.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course I'm going to have to fight with the younger triplet every time only to be able to sit in the front seat." Y/N spoke again to the front camera of her cell so that it caught her figure sitting in the passenger seat.
Her hand moved, causing the camera to catch Chris sitting on the seat behind her, his face showing an angry look with his arms crossed against his chest, Nick's laugh sounding in the background.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course one of the other two is my best friend." Y/N spoke to the front camera, smiling as she moved her hand so the lens caught Nick.
The boy was sitting next to her on the bed in her shared room with Matt, his legs crossed on the mattress and several snacks surrounding him.
Nick lifted his face that was focused on his own phone, turning it towards the camera and opening a big smile. He raised his right hand, making the peace sign, before a laugh escaped his lips.
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course people ask me which one is my boyfriend." Y/N spoke to her phone.
A chuckle escaped her lips as Matt's head appeared next to hers, his right eyebrow raised in confrontation.
"It's me, guys!"
CUT
"I'm dating a triplet, of course Matt and I have to go out at any time of the day with the car to pick up Chris or Nick from some appointment they had." Y/N spoke again, smiling and moving her hand so that the front camera of her cell caught Matt, who was driving with a concentrated look on his face.
The brunette hit the brakes seconds after, parking the car on the side of the street, turning to his girlfriend and playfully rolling his eyes at the camera, nodding his head.
Y/N double-clicked on the screen, recording the sidewalk with the rear camera, showing Nick and Chris with backpacks on their backs and looking around, searching for them with their eyes.
Her and Matt's laughter sounded from behind the phone before the TikTok ended.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
3.
"Had to tell her that dick off-limits. I hop on it at night, I'm a menace"
Y/N had her back to the closed closet doors in her shared room with Matt. Her right hand was raised and supporting her phone horizontally, so that the front camera recorded from her collarbone upwards.
The room's lights were dimmed, and only the LED lights were lit in a reddish color.
The girl lipsynched the lyrics, smirking as she stared at her phone screen, her red lip gloss shining with the movements of her lips.
"Uh, uh, yeah, he gets to strokin; ooh, how I love when he chokin' me"
Her hand moved up and down almost imperceptibly, following the three opening moans of the last lyrics.
Matt's tattooed arm appeared in the frame, exactly at the height of her shoulders. His large hand encircled her neck perfectly, just like a necklace. His fingers pressed against her skin hard enough that it was apparent he was doing it.
Y/N opened her lips slightly, smirking before catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She threw a wink at the camera before the TikTok ended.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
4.
Y/N leaned her upper body forward slightly, positioning her phone on the computer desk in her shared room with Matt, clicking the red button on the TikTok recording screen.
She straightened her body, standing next to her boyfriend.
Matt had his arms crossed, his posture straight and his face with a slightly confused look. His blue eyes flicked from the camera to Y/N and back, waiting for her to do what she wanted, even if he didn't know what it was.
"If you want to get to him, you have to go through me first." Y/N spoke to the camera, raising her eyebrows in confrontation as she pointed at Matt with the thumb of her left hand.
The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line, holding back his laughter while frowning in confusion, his blue eyes focusing on his girlfriend's figure through the phone screen.
The girl turned towards him, approaching his body and standing on tiptoe. Matt quickly understood what she wanted to do, shaking his head in amusement before lowering it so that their faces were close.
Y/N sealed their lips in a simple kiss, pulling away seconds after and returning to her previous position.
"He's the best big brother ever." She added, crossing her arms and raising her chin with a snobbish look.
"Babe, what the fuck?" Matt's voice came out high-pitched, his eyes widening comically as he raised his arms in ecstasy, taking a few steps back, almost tripping over his own feet.
"Oh, yeah. She's our lost sister." The sound of Chris's voice sounded from the door, he having heard them as he passed through the hallway that led to their bedroom, heading towards the kitchen.
Y/N threw her head back, her mouth opening as loud laughter escaped from her throat.
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madschiavelique · 1 year ago
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
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Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
3K notes · View notes
kamii-2 · 15 days ago
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Hi, can you do nika x Paige x reader smut or fluff
hi anon! first time writing something like this so please don’t bully 😞
warning(s): cussing, smut
genre: smut
pairing(s): paige bueckers x reader x nika mühl
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you were at the club with the entire uconn team, laughing and drinking, messing around and relaxing after their game. you weren’t on the team, just a good friend with all of them, some more than others. everyone knew you were messing around with both nika and paige, none of you were secretive about it.
you and jana were sitting at the bar talking about the game, talking about how everyone played and just overall having a good time. “hey guys what are you talking about?” nika said as she walked over next to you and looked you up and down, “the game” you replied while sipping your drink. she hummed in response and you and jana went back to talking. in the middle of the conversation, nika kept rubbing your thigh and going closer and closer to your pussy. this small gesture had you stuttering and soaked but you kept your composure until jana had got up and went to talk to other girls.
the second jana left, paige stole her seat. her eyes immediately looked down at nika’s hand the looked back up at you to see your reaction. nika was basically fingering you through your jeans and you were losing it. “yall wanna leave?” paige asks, clearly enjoying the sight. “yea let’s go.” nika said as she took her hand off your thigh.
-
you guys decided you were going to your house because you didn’t want anyone to walk in or interrupt what was about to happen. when you got to your house you went to your room and waited for them, leaving the front door unlocked. after a few more minutes of you waiting, they both walked in. “you looked so sexy mama.” paige says as you slowly walks up to you, “but i bet you’d look even sexier getting fucked by us.” nika says as she leans against the door way.
the sight of them had you dripping, you needed them so badly. paige pushed you back on the bed, getting on her knees. “can i?” she asked as her hands creeped up your sides to the top of your pants. you nodded and paige took off your pants and underwear. paige smiled before diving right in, licking and sucking your needy clit. “damn.” nika whispered to herself before walking over and leaning down to kiss and sucking your neck. the amount of pleasure you were feeling had you so overwhelmed. even though this has happened plenty of times, you’ll never get used to it.
“fuck!” you moaned out as you got closer to your climax. your neck was covered in dark bruises from nika, your legs were starting to tense up from how paige was tongue fucking you, and you loved every second of it. “oh my God.” you moaned as you came, gripping nika’s muscular arm. “switch me.” paige said, looking up at nika from her position on the floor, nika nodded.
it was just like before but paige and nika switched positions. paige made it with you as nika immediately started sucking your puffy clit, dipping her fingers in your soaked cunt. “fuck, i love the way you taste.” nika mumbled in between your folds. the vibrations made you jolt with pleasure, moaning into paige’s mouth. since your clit was already sensitive from paige, it didn’t take you long to cum, and when you did it was just as good as the first time you had came. your legs tensed up as nika continued to eat you and finger you.
after you came, they cleaned you up and hung out with you for a few hours before that had to go back to their dorm since they had pratice in the morning. in the few hours you guys hung out, you talked about school, the basketball season, and other things related to both of those topics. the rest of the night was fun and you were sad when they left but you knew they’d make it up later.
==================================
i’m sorry this took so long to come out but i hope you enjoyed and i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋
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solannn · 3 months ago
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Hi!! Can I request a male! reader x boten Where the reader is a waiter at their favorite restraint for gangs/mafia whatever and Mikey takes a liking to him but they find out he’s only doing the job because he’s a single father, and they want to keep him (not super good with translating my ideas sorry)- 🦇 anon
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
⤷ male reader and single father of a child named “Myrei”, she is kind, and love her father.
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[Name] saw a potentially dangerous man enter the bar, with his gang members, he assumed. It was the first time they had visited the large and incredibly beautiful bar where he had worked here for several years. The boy's men probably hide a weapon in their pockets if there's a problem, most of the gangs do this, and sometimes it's just that he has a shootout because of a quarrel started by a drunk man who ends up dead. the end. [Name] thought their boss was the man with short white hair, he was short but his appearance could be deceiving, but they could also be wrong about him being a boss.
The waiter tried to concentrate on his customers, but the imposing aura of the armed men scared him. He was used to this kind of situation, but he felt like he'd seen it somewhere on his television late at night. After wondering their name its suddenly came to mind, Bonten, something like that. They were one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan, inviting prostitutes and killing them after having pleasuring time them, cruelty towards others human being, and much more. For them it was like a hobby that entertained them, but [Name] hated that kind of person. So, to protect his life he decided not to say too much that could cause a general fight.
He wanted to avoid them at all costs before his manager told him that these men were men who deserved lust and merit to flatter their immense egos, so he asked him to serve them drinks, food, and everything what they wished they had. [Name] was flattered that his presence was lustful, but he was also uncomfortable talking to them but his manager comforted him by putting his hand on his shoulder telling him. "I know how you feel, but unfortunately you are the only one qualified to talk to people at such levels." [Name] sighed, he puffed out his chest a little and thanked his comrade who had just comforted him. He walked towards the table of men, they were all different from each other, one seemed drugged to the point of stupidity, one depressed, one who was probably arrogant, one with a neutral expression and others.
“Hello gentlemen, what can we offer you today.” He asked them and made his famous smile known by his comrades or the customers who came each time. He tried to appear friendly, and pretended to be pure and innocent, he wanted them to have pity for him but they probably didn't have any, but he still tried to seduce them. He waited for their answers for a few seconds before a man with long, white hair asked him. “what is boeuf bourgignon?” he pronounced the word wrong, but with a smile [Name] answered him. "boeuf bourguignon is a dish of beef braised in red wine, and served with a garnish of pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon. It is one of the most popular dishes in France made by a French-Japanese chef." he replied, detailing the appearance of the meat and its garnish. the man nodded and said "I'll take that then." he grinned back, [Name] noted as he took out a paper and a style from his pocket to wrote it.
“I would like a dorayaki.” No, it wasn't a request but an order, he could tell the difference between that. It was simple to distinguish, he kept a smile and wrote his order. After taking their orders one added. “Get me some wine, one of the best from here.” [Name] scratched his neck, and nodded. “of course sir, everything will be in order.” he addressed them before leaving towards the restaurant counter. "Hey Boss, I'm not feeling this place. I'm not having fun." He stretched while taking another drug, to relax. "Their boss didn't say anything, he was just hungry. He glanced to his left, and saw the waiter talking on the phone with someone. He had a smile soft, and not forced when in front of him.
“Kokonoi.” He called one of his members coldly. The boy became tense, he looked at his boss and said. “Yes, sir?” Who is this waiter we saw a few minutes ago? "mhm, I think his name is [Name] Bonavich, he is 27 years old, he has been working in a bar, restaurant for a few years so that his daughter has a good education and other things. He is a single father we will say." he tells Mikey, his boss, the boy's information. Before coming here, he looked for data on the people working in this popular place.
the waiter came towards them again after about thirty minutes of discussion with their meal in hand. Their dish was quite heavy to bear but he pretended it wasn't and placed their meal on the table. “Enjoy your appetite, sir.” He smiled but before leaving, the person who wanted to avoid everything grabbed his arm to say something to him. Their members were surprised by Mikey's sudden gesture, maybe he had a deal with him and was going to kill him. [Name] stressed a little, praying that he wouldn't ask anything strange like being his prostitute or something. “Yes?” he cleared his throat at the same time.
“after i eat you will come in my car, you will be my own waiter for bonten only.” The boy with dark circles under his eyes ordered him shut, without any expression on his face. "oh! ohm..of course." His day was ruined, his daughter was probably waiting for him at home and maybe she wanted to play before going to sleep. He walked towards the bar counter and went into the break room where his friends and his manager were. "people! I'm a dead man!" He whispered, carrying his voice a little so he could hear it. “ehh why.” a girl with extravagant makeup that stood out from the criteria of the Japanese beauty standard stated it was gyaru makeup. She dyed her hair red, to stand out even more. "what are you doing darling? probably isn’t someone as coolish as me ihh" she spoke mockingly not taking the situation to heart. “Shut up Ameyru! Let him talk.” An androgynous boy told her to shut up, she did but she rolled her eyes. "you see the Bonten, they are here and their boss asked me to become their personal waiter--" Ameyru laughed.
"lol! wait what! kyaaaa... these guys are creepy if you don't do your right job you're ekkkkk" at the end of her sentence she made the zombie noise, and with her thumb she pretended to slit her throat. The manager was shocked at the revelation and didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do about it," he felt unable to say another word. The androgynous boy next to him put his hand on his shoulder. "Kyoru.." he whispered, making him smile a little. Ameryu stopped laughing and took it seriously. "I'm sorry too, yikes! they are the most horrendous human ya know.." she said, knowing that if he left, she would miss him immensely. "wahhh!!! it's horrible.!" she said running towards her friend and grabbed him with a hug
"I'm sad, super. Hey Ryuba you will console me right." the haired boy nodded. "I'll try if you don't break my mind," he sighed and rushed to hug his friend, Kyoru joined them too. "mhh, and to think that you've been here for 9 years, we could have reached 10 years of anniversary of you working here.. “awhh guys." [Name] was touched by their words almost having tears in his eyes. when he was released from the hug, he greeted them, perhaps for the last time and left. "Ameyru is depressed.." tears ran down her puffy cheek "ugh.."
When he returned to the room where the gang was he saw blood on the floor. Someone was eliminated, but he had not heard the sound of a gun, perhaps a knife murder. The man was a customer who was probably drunk, he walked over and noticed that Bonten had finished eating. Mikey waited patiently for the boy, he walked towards the leader without saying a word.
He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.
He left the restaurant, letting himself go for fear of dying. One of the members opened the door for him, and he stepped inside and sighed. He moved to the back of the car, and the others got in. They were almost all crammed in, but the car was wide enough to fit a little. Stressed out by this long, boring moment while the driver drove the car, he needed something to sink his teeth into. He wanted to take his cigarette but unfortunately he'd left it on the counter.
It was a long trip, and [name] was worried because he recognized the road he was driving on his way home. The driver stopped in front of his destination, his apartment building. His heart stopped and his eyes widened as he wondered what would happen to his child. One of the members got out of the car and went to the apartment. [Name] started to speak, but a man put a gun to his head. "He said, "If you dare say anything, I'll shoot you in the face.”He threatened to shoot him, but he quickly shut up. In the back of his mind, he sighed so as not to draw attention to himself. The minutes were long, very long, he felt as if they had stopped an hour ago. He looked out the window to his left, watching the people passing by, afraid of the car. Probably wondering if they were going to die too.
A few minutes passed and the tension grew. When one of the members returned, he had a sleeping child in his arms. He walked around the car to the left door, opened it, and handed [name] his child. He took her under his shoulders and put her on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, but a question lingered in the back of his mind: did he kill the babysitter he'd hired years ago, or was he showing compassion? Preferring not to answer, he stroked his child's head with a faint smile.
His child was sleeping peacefully, as if someone had rocked him to sleep. This made [Name] happy, but he didn't want to show it to a gang, so he decided to save his smile for his daughter. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the dejected look on the boss's face, so he quickly looked away, not wanting to see his expression. The gang began to talk among themselves, fed up with the tension caused by Mikey's pressure. The little man said nothing, remaining completely silent.
He felt a sudden urge to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy with each blink, and he put his hand over his mouth and yawned. He told himself it was late, 23 in his opinion. At 11 p.m., the lights went out in the small town and he could see people enjoying themselves with their friends. He sighed one last time, clutched his child, and fell asleep, unable to help himself.
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He woke up suddenly, his eyes wide open. "Is this a nightmare?" he asked himself, but no. The place he was in wasn't his home; it was too big for a one-person room. The room was almost as big as his apartment. "They're filthy rich...after all, they're a mafia..." he muttered and looked around, not seeing his child. He stood up and rushed to the door. He opened it abruptly and left the room, nothing as he stepped out onto a wide red carpeted staircase. He also had a view of the living room. "..." he didn't know what to say, amazed at the size of this mansion. He heard a child's playful cry at the bottom of the stairs. Running up and down the stairs as if his life depended on it, he looked to his left and saw Myrei, her child playing with one of the members? He wasn't sure if it was a babysitter, but it had a remarkable tattoo. He walked towards them, his daughter smiling as she saw him approach. "Daddy!!!" She couldn't help but scream.
She was so overly excited that she gave her trust to the person in front of him. A man with black hair and a huge scar on his face, [Name], glared at him while carrying his child. "I assure you, I'm not here to hurt anyone on behalf of the boss." He was admitting the truth, their boss? No, he wasn't dreaming, and he didn't seem to be lying. [Name] sighed and let go of Myrei. "Oh dad, no need to worry, he's super super nice the Mr.!!! The others were cool with their shots too!!!" Myrei was only 6 years old, she didn't know what she was saying, she was just a child and she was being manipulated. Negative thoughts invaded his mind and lowered his impressions of the Mafia, even if they were already low enough.
After a brief discussion between the two adults, [Name] felt an icy hand on his shoulder and arched his back at the sensation. He was about to say something insulting, but he stopped himself and turned his head to see Mikey, the boy with short white hair. "I put your clothes that were at home in the closet and the uniform is on your bed, if you've seen it." He said his coldly, showing no mercy, but deep inside he was interested in him without realizing it. “Oh okay.. I’ll prepare myself than.”
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After getting ready in the bedroom, the boss waited patiently outside his door. He gasped slightly and bowed in respect. Mikey told him there was no point in bowing and asked him to follow him to his office. He followed with a fake smile on his lips. When they entered the room, Mikey sat down on a rather large and comfortable chair. While [Name] sat on a chair probably made of rusty metal because it creaked. Mikey handed him a piece of paper that showed how much he would be charged. [Name] looked at it for a moment before taking it and reading it. He was shocked, the amount was huge, he could live luxuriously on it every month. The man in the black t-shirt and pants didn't know what to say, but he appreciated [Name]'s smile, it reminded him of someone so close to him. He pushed his memories away, trying not to connect the past with the present.
"I like your genuine smile." Mikey stated it bluntly. [Name] stopped celebrating the money in his head and tilted his head, surprised by the remark. Had he been smiling? He hadn't even noticed. "Oh, thank you!" He smiled even more, a pink blush appearing on his cheek, he didn't know why he was blushing because he should be used to this kind of compliment, but coming from him, it felt strange.
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