#this realization had me on my hands and knees btw. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 7 months ago

Text

Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

saerotonins · 10 months ago

Text

in a world full of boys, he's a gentleman

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

— in which kento unintentionally proves how much of a husband material he is.

content warnings: fluff, smut, light angst, suggestive, making out, nanami kento being a certified hubby, fiancée!kento, weddings, mentions/implied slut-shaming, reader has horrible relatives, reader is described to be non-traditional, riding, p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, curses still exist but nobody dies (yay!) and geto is mentally fine and a teacher at jujutsu tech <33, im so in love with him, some can be considered bare minimum and subtle but idc if he does it he's the standard, kento loves it when you're checking him out, just kento being a gentleman, kento is so in love with you, you you and you in his mind, reader is just as the same btw, corny ass vow (idk how to write one srry)

wc: 5591 (holy shit lol)

note: im!! so!! head!! over!! heels!!! with!! this!! man!! (it's really not that obvious, right?) he's so dreamy he deserves a lot of kissy kisses and a ticket to malaysia <33 also!! just realized this is my first piece for 2024 tehehe happy new year, everyone! 🎀🎆

best enjoyed with: slut! - taylor swift

that time when you both went out for a picnic

the sunset paints the sky with the most vibrant colors as you and kento bask in each other's presence and sit on a picnic blanket, surrounded by the quiet sways of the green grass, accompanied by some people who decided to hang out around the vicinity.

it's one of those days that kento is blessed by once in a blue moon break from being a jujutsu sorcerer. kendo's always grateful to have this kind of day because it would mean that his hands would spend their time stealing soft touches against your skin instead of fighting curses.

a faint clink can be heard when you and kento toast your glasses together, half filled with your favorite champagne. it's a tad bit sweet to kento's liking as he is not good with sweets, but he opted to bring it to your picnic instead of his favorite whiskey because he knows you love it.

kento watches you put your lips on the champagne flute and drink your sweet alcohol with glee. he takes a small sip from his as he stares at you with admiration.

satisfied with your drink, you set it aside on your coaster as you lean your head on kento's shoulders. "such a lovely day, isn't it?" you say while you close your eyes, soaking in the remaining rays of the sunshine before it sleeps, allowing the night to take over the sky.

kento hums in approval as he puts his free hand on your head, giving it gentle and loving pats as he rests his head against yours, but not before giving you a quick peck. "we should do this more often,"

"i agree; you should ditch gojo more and spend more time with me," you joked, and you heard your fiancée chuckle, "that wouldn't be so professional of me, darling," it's your turn to let out a chuckle.

"it's gojo; being professional is already out of the window."

"you're right, maybe i should," kento jested back.

the two of you just sat in comfortable silence until a slightly strong gust of wind blew in your direction. caught by the shock of it all, you close your eyes and hold your sundress down to avoid flashing the strangers. but before you could even do it, a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

kento had covered you, so any speck of dust blown by the wind wouldn't be able to get into your eyes. your sundress is also held down by his knees between your legs. when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by your fiancée's face close to yours, assessing you. you suddenly feel your stomach tumble and fill with butterflies.

"are you okay? didn't get anything in your eyes?" he says gently, eyes observing you with worry. you give him a slight nod, "mhm, i'm fine kento, how about you?" kento answered with a hum as he tried to fix your dress and some parts of the picnic blanket that was slightly blown away by the wind.

"i think that's the cue for us to pack up, or do you want to stay for a while?" kento asks you while he starts to pack up some of your stuff into the picnic bag. "we should stay until the sun completely sets, it's a shame to leave while the sky looks pretty."

kento nods and finishes packing before he sits beside you, looking at the view. he then makes your head lean on his shoulders once again, his hands caressing the top of your head. "yeah, i agree, the sky looks pretty." he states.

he feels you nod and continues, "but you're prettier to look at," he says as he looks down at you and to his surprise, he meets your eyes on him. "i could say the same to you, kento," you say before capturing his lips against yours.

kento smiles on your lips before reciprocating your gesture, slightly tasting the remnants of your sweet champagne earlier.

and at that moment, he thought, it doesn't matter if his tongue tasted something so sweet, as long as it's from your lips.

that time when you went christmas shopping

the mall filled with bustling crowds is not a perfect way to spend time with your fiancée. but when this is the only time your schedules align to go for a last-minute shopping to buy gifts for your loved ones, you don't really have a choice.

kento especially noticed how much you were on edge today despite being excited to buy gifts for everyone especially his mentees. you weren't the type to enjoy a busy crowd, so he knows how to elevate your stress.

store after store, he gave you every opinion he had (that you asked for) ever so gently and thoroughly but not too much to overwhelm you since you're technically a ticking time bomb now. kento was attentive at every store you went to and immediately picked out gifts you thought were best to give. he stood up in the busy and long line as he let you sit on the lounge chair present in the store.

by the time you're done shopping, he carries all the bags and refuses to give you any (even the small ones). and when you insist, he gives you an offended look, telling you he can manage.

while you're walking to leave the mall, your stares don't go unnoticed by your fiancée as he sees you mindlessly gawking at his arms that flex every time he has to fix the bags while walking.

and that makes carrying your shopping bags even more worth it to him.

that time when you got drunk at a new year's party

gojo has set a new year's party that includes everyone in jujutsu tech in one of his vacation homes in japan. it was supposed to be a reasonably small party but this is gojo satoru we're talking about; he's going to be extra about anything and everything.

the party is semi-formal and requires everyone to dress up nicely. kento does not enjoy parties, but seeing you dress up in a pretty dress that enhances your assets makes him think that attending this event has benefits too.

the party wasn't uneventful per se, but despite the semi-formal wear that everyone was rocking, the event itself was casual. the house was filled with laughter and noise, mainly from the students and everyone else sharing stories and conversing. an hour or two into the party, you and kento decided to part ways as you go on your way to interact with gojo, geto, and shoko.

kento trusted you enough to be alone with them so he opted to talk with some of his colleagues whose presence calms him (obviously not gojo). he spent his time talking with higuruma, sharing ideals and mundane stuff they both enjoyed doing. it was a calming conversation for both men, who wanted peace and tranquility.

"there's this store that sells rare vintage vinyl; i think you'll love to shop there," higuruma suggests as they talk about collecting vinyl, a hobby they share. kento was about to reply, but even before he opened his mouth, he heard a very loud—

"nanamin!" which made both men turn their heads in the direction where the sound came from.

the voice no doubt belonged to itadori, his face painted with concern as he rushed to kento's area. "what is it itadori?" he asked the young man the moment he arrived while panting.

"your wife! she's—" before itadori can even finish his sentence, kento's already sprinting to where you are, itadori following suit.

kento doesn't need to know what he needs to say; the worry on itadori's face, accompanied by your name, is enough for him to look for you.

turns out you're drunk of your mind.

when kento arrives in gojo's kitchen, it's just you and him having a very drunk and heated argument about whether cereal or milk comes first.

"no! that's so stupid, cereal should come first, think about it you stupid idiot, if you pour milk first, you'll miss the chance to fill the bowl with so much cereal!" your fiancée sees you standing on gojo's kitchen island alongside him, slurring your words as you sway the glass of wine in the air, threateningly spilling as you keep on moving.

gojo scoffs at your argument, "maybe t'was the point! it's all about ratio, how else can you enjoy cereal when there's too much cereal and little room for milk!" he barks back, holding a—

is that a massive cup of sunrise tequila? no wonder he got so drunk, kento thought as he sighed.

"there's no such thing as ratio for you, gojo! you're the same person who adds too much pineapple on pizza that it becomes disgusting!" you shouted at gojo's face as you continuously pointed at his chest with your index finger.

across the kitchen island stood geto and shoko with unamused faces, looking like they were just waiting for everything to die down on its own. kento sighs and asks them, "did they have an alcohol-drinking battle again?" and all they reply is a solid nod.

"gojo got too competitive and drank that sweet poison, which led to this... argument," shoko adds, looking at both you and gojo incredulously. "they immediately started gulping down the alcoholic drinks right after midnight," geto said, a chuckle threatening to leave his lips.

"please help me break them up," your fiancée kindly pleads to geto and shoko. they immediately showed empathy to their former junior and decided to hold gojo back together while kento held onto you.

it took almost half an hour to break you and gojo apart, not to mention the commotion and your silly drunk discussions that blew out of proportion because the both of you are just so passionate and no one would back down without a fight. after successfully separating the two of you, kento immediately guided you away from the party and to your car, not without leaving shy goodbyes to the people he would face along the way.

the drive back home was thankfully not chaotic, but it was definitely filled with your drunken chatter as you slur words kento can barely make out.

getting you to your shared home was relatively easy; you were patient enough to let kento walk you off to the front door and remove your heels before gently placing you on the couch.

he was about to let go and grab some water until you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to your face; kento felt his heart race. "hey there," you whispered against his lips, distance threateningly close.

kento could smell the alcohol on your breath, probably a mixture of beer, wine, and then some. still, he couldn't bring himself to care when he knew your lips would probably taste slightly sweet. "have you ever been this handsome, kento?" you ask, your voice dripping honey despite being out of your mind, trapped in your own drunken bubble.

"maybe that's just the alcohol's doing, darling," he jokes.

"no no, i think i already saw this face years ago."

"really?"

"really. you look even more handsome now, you should give me a kiss," you say as you pucker your lips, slowly leaning towards his.

kento couldn't even say no even if he didn't want to (not that he will ever not want to kiss you). he decides to give you a swift peck just to entertain your shenanigans, but when he is about to let go, you deepen your kiss, tightening your wrap on his neck, forcing him to lean forward and straddle you with one of his thighs digging on the couch.

he can taste the red wine you had recently drunk, and he's confident he can get drunk with your lips alone. kento's mind went hazy as he moved against your lips languidly, letting himself drown in your kiss. he wanted this to last longer, even take it further, but alas, kento has always been a man of self-control, so he lets go of you, not before giving you one last kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen.

the whole night, kento tends to your every need that you couldn't do. he had prepared you a warm bath, removed your makeup, and did your skincare for you that he knows at the back of his hand. he had lathered you up with your favorite lotion, dried your hair (not without a fight since your drunk self found the hair dryer too loud), and kissed you good night before tucking you to bed, leaving a pack of aspirin and a water bottle on your nightstand before sleeping.

the morning after, you woke up to the smell of your favorite soup and your fiancée insisting on feeding you even though you told him you could manage.

you make sure to pay him back really well that same day.

that time when you attended a family reunion

it's always this dreaded day you always wanted to avoid but couldn't.

you would rather stay home with kento rather than attend a gathering that will just piss you off, but your mom had pleaded with you to come— "so that they won't gossip about you," she said.

you know that's a lie; whether or not you attend, they'll always find a way to talk about you anyway; there's no winning. but since you wouldn't want to let your mother down, you suck it up and prepare for it regardless.

what makes you nervous is that this is the first time Kento has come along— or more like you let him come along.

you had heard complaints from your relatives about not meeting kento when he was still your boyfriend, and now that you're engaged, you should've at least let them meet him. you begrudgingly agreed, but it doesn't mean you're not nervous.

your relatives have been annoying throughout your life, always meddling with things they shouldn't even care about.

it always started with asking about your weight change, school activities, grades, chosen course, and relationships, not to mention the ever-so "you should do better" undertone in all aspects of your life. and for some reason, always making you feel small is included in their mandatory list to piss you off.

you know that once you let them meet your now fiancée, they would bombard him with questions and annoy you and him for the rest of the day. you only keep up with the tradition because your mother is too kind to tell them off, laughing awkwardly when they berate you and always giving you a silent apology through her eyes.

it wasn't her fault; you just wish she'd shut them off.

kento had noticed your change of behavior ever since this morning while preparing in your home. you had been silent and spacing out, only replying when he had finally snapped you out of your daze. he doesn't know what the deal was with your relatives, but all he knows is that your mood drastically changes whenever they're involved in the conversation, and that's enough for him to tell you that they're not really good news.

"are you sure you want to go, honey? we can always drive back home," kento said with worry, cutting through the thick tension in the car. "it's fine; I can handle it; we're almost there anyway. it would be a waste if we turn around," you tell him with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

Kento replied with a small smile, taking your hand to his face and kissing your knuckles, "just know that i'll always be there, alright?"

you nod, feeling slightly relieved, before looking out the window to drink in the scenery as you pass by.

it turns out you can't handle it.

you thought your relatives would be a little tamer because you have someone over, but you were totally wrong.

ever since you both arrived, your aunties had surrounded kento and bombarded him with questions. from his age, degree, university he graduated from, where you met, wedding date, monthly income (which is incredibly embarrassing), to how many children he plans to have.

most of it wasn't a problem, but your blood boiled the moment they asked about what he saw from you.

this would've been such a sentimental moment if it weren't for your auntie's sarcastic tone, as if the question was meant to belittle you, to make you feel like you're not worthy of him.

when kento was about to open his mouth just to pour out how much he loves you and how he's lucky to have you, one of your aunties butt in with their loud mouth.

"well, she isn't really a traditional partner isn't she?" she said, a smug smile forming on her ugly and wrinkly face. "yeah, i mean, i assume with a fine man like you wouldn't be attracted to someone like her," another one added.

kento clenches his fists as he felt fury fire inside of him. how dare they think about you like this and talk about you like this, like you weren't just in front of him, seething in pain and anger.

he was about to give a proper and calm response when your uncle had spoken, "besides, she dresses like a... you know," then an ugly cackle. "a what?" your auntie had joined, taunting him to say the word.

"oh, you know, like a sl-"

that was the final nail in the coffin. his words are cut off when kento angrily smashes both palms on the table, seemingly angry, forming an angry red aura you have never seen. "i've had enough," he started, while all eyes are on him, including yours.

"i will not allow any single one of you to disrespect my wife any longer. i will not tolerate your old and immature ways of talking about her. i've been patient enough, but this bullshit is something I will not allow," kento's vulgar choice of words has made everyone's eyes at the table grow wide, shocked.

"i would say this respectfully, but you guys weren't to my wife either, so please, i'll say this once," he inhales, trying to calm himself down.

"fuck off," kento declares before taking your hand and exiting the venue.

during the walk to the car, he had been slowly calming himself down. once you reach it, kento holds your face gently, "i'm sorry for the outburst there; i just couldn't stand them disrespecting you any longer, so I had to." he says before putting a gentle yet quite long kiss on your forehead.

once he lets go, he sees your face. your eyes had been filled with tears, and it broke his heart. "that's fine, i've been wanting to tell them to fuck off for years anyway. if anything, i should thank you," a smile spread through kento's face before opening the car door to let you in.

once the both of you are finally settled in your seat, you ask, "by the way, I just noticed you called me your wife; what was that all about?" you ask him out of curiosity. he knows you're happy about that based on how happy your voice sounded when you asked him.

"i'm just so sure you'll end up with that title anyway, unless you're having cold feet?"

"oh god, no! i'm just touched, 's all," you shrugged as you settled in your seat, a smile stretched across your face.

kento chuckles and leans forward to kiss your cheek before starting the engine and driving off.

your mom visited you and kento later that week, saying she was happy she was finally not invited to the next reunion. she then made you your favorite dishes as an apology for that day.

you don't mind what gossip they would come up with next, not when you have the kind of man kento is.

their little toxic gossip train had nothing compared to the love that kento gives you every single day anyway.

that time when you asked him to be rough

the night is still young and cold but kento does know how to make it hot.

his hands fumble the plush ass as you keep on taking his cock, sloppily riding him as you let your hips and thighs do the work. your cunt meticulously takes all of him, molding your walls just like it was made for him. "hah, faster darling, please," kento pleads, voice broken and desperate for release.

his calloused hands caress your body gently like you are someone sacred, a figure that shouldn't be harshly touched or you'll be condemned, the same hands that used to exorcise and kill curses without a single thought. and yet with you, he carefully carries them lightly, holding onto your waist, not too tight enough to leave you in pain.

you feel your stomach tie into a knot, slowly feeling yourself come to a climax, "shit, kento, you're so big, mngh, make me feel so full," you say through gritted teeth, further speeding up your pace. the sound of your thighs slamming against his echoes through your bedroom, accompanied by your ragged breaths and kento's broken moans of pleasure.

your fiancée's hands then find their place back on your ass, squeezing it tight, but not too much, guiding you to bounce on his cock more as he feels himself closer. "s'good for me, yeah? taking me like a good girl?" kento looks at your eyes lovingly, his brown orbs touching your soul. you nod, not finding the words to say, mind too hazy to answer as you keep on taking his dick, taking him in like you always do.

"yes, oh god, yes, kento— please, inside— me," were the only words you managed to let out as your movements kept on getting sloppier and sloppier each moment passed by. he knew what it meant, and who he to deny such a polite request?

kento let himself release inside of you with a groan, making sure every drop of his cum is given to you.

your pants envelope the room as you both try and catch your breaths— then a beat of silence.

you take kento's face in the palm of your hands and caress his cheek, "you know, i sometimes wish you could be rough," you say as you observe his sexed stupor, "i occasionally get rough on you, don't i?" he asks, eyebrows raised with confusion.

"no, like i mean, rough rough," you emphasize, "you're always so gentle. you don't think i can handle you?" faux sadness evident in your voice, one that your fiancée can never say no to, not when you're asking this nicely. "oh darling, i'm sorry, i will do it next time," he coos, fixing the loose strands on your hair by tucking them behind your ear.

"we can do it now?" you suggest, making the corner of kento's lips perk up, "oh? you sure you can handle it?"

"i know i can handle it," you say as your voice rang with confidence.

you knew kento had it in him to be rough, but good god, you never expected him to be this good.

he had given you a more than good fucking, which leads you drooling on your sheets, with your back arched, ass up, and your hands held behind by kento as he drills his cock into your sopping cunt. his hands left prints on your ass and thighs, which left a delicious burn on your skin. "want to take my babies, don't you?" kento says as his hips meet your asscheeks.

"mnghh, yes, daddy! full— 'f your babies!" that was enough for him to unload himself inside of you, burying himself deeper to make sure you'll take all of it before he pulls out.

you were about to sit up, panting, when you felt kento's large hands wrap around your neck from behind, squeezing it while the other was pulling your hair.

"who said i was done with you, pretty?" the deep timbre of his voice went straight to your pussy.

this side of your fiancée is undoubtedly a pleasant surprise.

the following day, though, you were treated again like a queen, a bath ready for you by the time you woke up, surrounded with fresh flower petals that he had taken the time to buy from your nearest flower shop, and your favorite candle burning alongside your bath products. kento also insisted on giving you a full body massage to ease any tension and muscle ache.

you asked for it anyway, but you also don't mind this kind of treatment from him every now and then.

that time when you had a cold

you woke up feeling like absolute shit.

you don't know when or why it happened; it just did.

your head was throbbing the moment you opened your eyes, squinting at the sun rays that peeked through your windows. your body felt heavier than usual, and your shoulders felt sore. kento had taken notice of this as soon as he woke up, tending to your every need.

it pains your fiancée to see you in such a state, voice hoarse, your sniffles meet with a crumpled-up tissue near your nightstand, a mucus-filled cough every now and then, and an occasional "my throat hurts" whenever you speak. you had begged him to bring you some slightly cold water along with your food because lukewarm water doesn't hit just the same. but being the ever-responsible adult that kento is, he says no, leaving you sulking as you begrudgingly eat your food with a frown.

taking your medicine, though, is a different kind of task.

you stall every single time, finding it hard (or hating) to swallow the pills. even more so if he gave you water with a dissolved effervescent tablet, claiming it's too gross to drink, even if it doesn't really have any flavor. whenever you're sick, this is always the obstacle he has to face.

"please give me some juice or candy kento; it'll help when i drink the medicine," you begged, adding a touch of cooing pleases to make him say yes.

"i think the sweets you ate are what led you this way, darling," he says, which practically means no.

a pattern he noticed is that whenever you eat too much salt or sweets without drinking the right amount of water, it always leads to you getting this sick. "it'll just be a little sip, please? baby?" you had finally hit a new low, busting out the occasional nickname when you need something from him.

"you're a big girl, honey; you can drink this. here, i'll cover your nose for you," at this point, you just let him do it; there's no way you'll be able to convince him. you reluctantly nod and decide to drink the medicine instead.

kento pinched the sides of your nose together, effectively covering the smell, or lack thereof (he doesn't even know why he covers your nose, he just knows you'll take it if you don't smell anything). your face scrunched as your tastebuds are met with an unfamiliar and unwelcome taste, but you drink it anyway, your throat desperately chugging it so you can be done with it right away.

once you felt that you had finally consumed all of the medicine, you immediately let go of kento's hold on your nose, quickly reaching out to the glass of lukewarm water on your nightstand. after you drink enough to allow the aftertaste of the medicine to go, you place it back and let yourself lie in bed.

"i'll prepare you dinner, and i'll be back, alright?" kento takes away your glasses and places them on the tray he had brought them with. he was about to leave the room when he felt you tugging on his shirt "hm? do you need something?"

you shake your head, "no, just... thank you,"

a small smile spread on his face, your fiancée takes his free hand on your head and gently ruffles your hair, "this is nothing to thank about darling, i'm just doing my job," he bends down and gingerly places a long kiss on your forehead, "i love you, get some rest."

you nod, but not before giving him a small smile back.

that night after you had eaten your dinner and drank your medicine (albeit hesitantly), you spent the night with kento caging you in his firm, warm arms.

you feel yourself get better by then.

that time when you got married

when you walked down the aisle, kento looked at you like you had hung the stars for him. his eyes sparkle as he sees you wearing the gown you've been working on for months; even kento himself can't believe he's seeing an angel.

is this what heaven is? is this a dream? are you even real? how lucky is he to be with someone like you?

kento always believed you're out of his league, someone out of reach, and like the stars from the sky, the only way to capture your beauty is through his eyes. but he couldn't believe that the universe was on his side, fate working its way to make him yours, and he happily obliged.

cupid had shot him through the heart, and you stole it, and he can't even be mad at it. he'd happily give you all of him at the snap of your fingers. let himself be bare to you; let himself mesh with you. your soul, senses, beliefs, and love clouded onto him.

he consumes every single aspect of you within him, lovers stitched together by fate that no one can even cut.

kento sees himself becoming one with you, so he will never regret the time he got on his knees to present you with the prettiest ring he could ever find, but nothing can compare to the beauty you carry, not even this ring.

when you accept him with a delighted "yes," kento swears he's the luckiest man alive ever, blessed by your whole being.

so when you finally reach his side, everyone becomes a blur, his eyes focused on you the whole time, soaking in your beauty; he can't believe this is the face he's going to see every morning for the rest of his life.

"hey handsome, you look great," you say, holding kento's hand. "i could say the same to you, pretty," he replies, and he had to stop himself from kissing you right there and then.

and comes with the exchange of vows; kento feels slightly nervous but proud because he gets to declare his love for you in front of the people you both cherish most.

he clears his throat before opening up the letter in his hands and looks at you with such love and contentment.

"to the person who helped me see love in your form,

you've always painted colors on my blank canvas, and i cannot thank you enough. you shed light when i'm in my darkest days, have been with me through my stormy nights, and share my gloomy days.

you have been the compass to my lost soul, guiding me to the destination i know as love. you give harmony to my life as your laughter always brings music to my ears; your voice reminds me that you're here with me. you had composed the greatest symphony that sang its way to my heart, making me bare my soul, something that i will never regret," kento pauses, his voice croaked, words stuck in his throat as he tries to stop his tears from spilling. he fails to hear the audience coo in awe, focusing on you.

he continues, "loving you became my eternal pursuit, my garden whose roots are planted deeper than the sea where my endearment continues to blossom.

every step with you feels like a dance, one that i will not get tired of swaying my heart with. your hands had made a map of my body and soul, imprinted the images of love one couldn't see, and only i could feel.

and the only time i get to call something home, i stare into the deep abyss of your eyes and see myself tangled with you.

with you, i am willing to get even our souls intertwined, dancing through life as we face the uncertainty together, with love ink deep within my veins.

to my anchor, my only solace, the only anthem my heart will forever sing,

i hope the warmth of your arms will forever embrace me, even after death." the attempt to keep his tears falling fails, so does the audience, and so did you.

your eyes filled with tears, but one that's full of love. your heart feels so full that it's threatening to spill out of you. you love kento so much that it hurts; it aches to the core that someone could ever love you this much.

and you're forever thankful.

that day, your promises to each other are officially sealed with a kiss so intense and wedding bands that even evil couldn't break, that no trespassers shall get into and rip your bond away.

when kento's lips met yours, it was soft, it was warm, it was sweet, it was comforting.

finally, your husband thinks.

that day sealed the chapter to your newfound forever.

another note: i'm not so proud of the vows i made but i hope it captured kento enough lol srry 😭

3K notes · View notes

kittenlittle24 · 5 months ago

Text

Chokehold

Request: f!reader is part of the diagnostics team and one day, they realized that one of the cases they were handling involved a physically abusive parent, which started the patient’s condition. Reader went to confront the parent, which in turn made the parent attack her, and then Dr. House saw this and came in to save her. and then some fluff? and yes, house and f!reader is secretly in love with house @schnitzelbutterfingers

a/n: I based it on s2 e13 but also changed it to fit the request better, I apologize it’s short I had a real writing block.

Btw, gifs aren’t mine! Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

“A 15-year-old model was given by her father before taking the stage at a big fashion show. After walking out, she gets into a violent confrontation with another model, then collapses on the runway.” Cameron presents.

“The tox screen shows she has been taking heroin.”

House ordered a rapid detox procedure thinking the drugs are masking another disease and that we don't have time to wait four weeks to find out. Formen and Chase explained the risks to her father, who agreed to the procedure. They put the patient into an induced coma. She later went into cardiac arrest, of course, they revived her. They explained to the father that if they bring her out of the coma before the detox is over, she will be in extreme pain.

When the girl came out of the coma, she showed signs of short-term memory loss, which House diagnosed as PTSD as the result of sexual abuse from her father.

Cameron of course went straight to Cuddy who called child services, however, you were the lucky one to be cornered by the dad.

“You called child services on me?! I do everything for her! She’s my daughter!”

Slowly you tried to walk away as you denied till your back hit the wall, then you knew you were screwed. He was so close to you, that you smelled his breath and felt his spit splattered on your face as he continued to yell, you hoped one of the nurses would come by already and call security but the next thing you knew he had his hand around your throat, grasping his wrist you tried to move it away, the tears in your eyes blocked your sight, your chest starting to hurt.

He stopped as quickly as he started and fell to the floor. Falling to your knees as well you looked up to see House standing behind him, his cane raised.

“What did you do?” You rasped out.

“He was choking you!” He argued as he helped you up and the security guards lifted the assaulting man.

He took you to his office where he examined you.

He lifted your chin gently and looked at your neck where you already started to bruise.

“Might want to wear a turtleneck,”

You nodded, “Why did you come to check on me? You were supposed to be in the clinic and you never visit patients.”

“Teen model? The perfect excuse to avoid clinic.”

Grasping his arm, “House.”

“I had a bad feeling about the dad, I had to make sure you were safe,” he whispered.

Stepping closer to him, “You were worried about me.”

He nodded once.

Stand on your tip toes, you cupped his cheeks and leaned forward, slowly placing your soft lips on his, giving him plenty of time to stop you.

Instead of stopping you, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.

#imagine #greg house #gregory house #gregory house x reader #house md #house md x reader #x reader #greg house imagine #house md fanfiction #greg house x reader #gregory house imagine #greg house fanfiction #gregory house fanfiction #house imagine #house x reader #house md imagine

532 notes · View notes

ihavethedreamies · 3 months ago

Text

Good Enough | Jisung

Park Jisung - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.3k [more than half is smut btw]

Pairing: Jisung x AFAB!Older!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends/Roommates-to-Lovers, Absolute Filth

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Summary: Jisung is tired of his noona treating him like her little sweet baby.

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Noona, Sweetheart), Swearing, Very Dirty Talk, Kissing, Lots of Tongue, One Spank, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Rimming (Just a tad), Size Difference, Size Kink, Soft-Dom! Jisung (oof), Sub! Reader, Breeding/Creampie Kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill)

Author's Note: I had a mental breakdown while writing this lol. This might not acutally be the filthiest thing I have written, but it feels like it because of who it's for…for some reason. It's hard for me to believe that Jisung got so fucking hot, because I remember him sitting on Taeyong's lap, but he's a MAN now. i'll sit on his lap

P.S. FUCK

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

"He's my precious."

"Your roommate is your precious?" Jisung heard voices creeping in from the living room. Groggily, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand, head peeking out of his blanket cocoon. He was still jet lagged after getting back from Korea, so it was about 3 pm.

"Yes. And he's not just my roommate-"

"He's your precious?"

"Yes. But! I was going to say he is my best friend…and my precious baby boy."

"Seriously? Isn't he only like two or three years younger?"

"My precious baby Jisung." He huffed at your coo, dropping his head back on his pillow in annoyance. For some reason his summer trip back home to see his parents triggered something in him. Jisung was suddenly extremely displeased with your relationship. He missed you horribly and you were pretty much the only thing he talked about. Once he was informed by his mother that he likely had fallen in love with you, he was…upset. More with himself at first for not realizing it, but then looking at how you two interacted, he got cranky. He was not your precious baby Jisung, he's a man dammit, had been for nearly four years. Did you see him that way though? Not even remotely. He was a step above a puppy, at least you accepted he was a human. But you constantly went on about how cute he was, and sweet, and 'a bean'; whatever than meant. You had even called him your son on a few occasions, and even though they were mostly in jest and unserious, now they really pissed him off. Jisung didn't want you to see him as your son (maybe give you one) but what really was bugging him barely made any sense. He had only heard you say it once, but it stuck in his mind…

"You realize half of the people on campus want to fuck him, right?" He was in his final year of college, and the only reason you were still in college was because you had stuck around to work for the IT department. Your friend's question was not news to him, but he was much too shy to go for any of the advances he had received. He was also much too in love with you, but he hadn't known that till literally the month before, but it made sense.

"Not allowed."

"Why?"

"Precious baby."

"He's not a baby, (Y/N). Not even close." You didn't reply for a bit, and he could vividly picture your distasteful expression.

"He might not actually be one, but he’s, my baby. My baby Jisung."

"(Y/N)." Your friend's annoyed tone was not nearly strong enough to match the levels he was feeling. Definitely not able to continue his nap, he sat up aggressively from his bed, kicking at his blankets before wrangling his comforter and throwing it onto the floor. Resting his elbow on his knee, he then rested his forehead on his hand, trying to breathe out his ire so he could leave his room without being visibly grumpy.

"My sister wants to ask him out."

"No."

"Why not?"

"No one is good enough."

"No one?"

"Nope, not even me." That was it, you said it. That simple thought was what really set him over the edge. You were the only one good enough, no one else could even be close to you in his eyes. Finally, the anger boiled over and he climbed off his bed, putting a sweatshirt on so quickly that he had to wrestle it in his haste. You kept the apartment so freaking cold… You must have heard him wrench his door open because your conversation immediately stopped. He stormed down the hall, even his socked feet were heavy on the laminate wood floor, so much so that when he came to the mouth of the hallway, you were looking at him with a shocked expression. You were sitting at the coffee table with your friend Hana, various papers spread on the surface while your friend studied for her graduate classes. Your green snake Squishmallow sat on your lap, and he wanted to grab it and throw it across the room, suddenly jealous with how close it was pressed to your chest.

"Ji?" It was clear you didn't think he heard your conversation, but Hana immediately realized, starting to gather her homework.

"I'm gonna go." She nearly shoved the papers into her folder and threw everything else in her bag.

"What? Why?" You turned back to her, and he then realized what you were wearing. Your slightly damp hair had moved out of the way, revealing the design on the back of your baggy t-shirt. It was his.

"Wait, Hana?!" You tried to get up and go after her as she dashed from your apartment, shooting Jisung a look as she shut the door. You had to shove the table to get up better, and even as you stood, you still clutched the plushie to you. Jisung exhaled harshly, storming forward and grabbing your Squishmallow and yeeting her onto the floor.

"Woah?! What'd she do to you?" You motioned to her with your hand, giving him a questioning look. You started to bend and pick her up, but his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back up and toward him, making your balance falter. Your bewildered eyes scanned over his face, but you still had no anger in them. Not even annoyance. You couldn't get mad at your baby boy.

"Ji?" His big hand easily held your wrist, and you squeaked when he dragged you even closer to him, so much that you could feel his breath flutter your hair over your forehead. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed tight to each other, but he couldn't seem to meet your eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Your other hand came up to brush some of your hair away from your face, only leaving it down to dry. Your fingers then moved to his face, trying to brush his bangs out of his eyes. Having you so close and seeing how far you had to reach made him realize how small you were. He was well over half a foot taller than you and he wondered how small you would look under him. When your fingers brushed his cheek, his other hand grabbed yours, easily swallowing it in his grip. Jisung held your hand, pulling it closer, and laid your hands over his heart. With his other, he yanked you the last little bit, so you were pressed to him, wide eyes rapidly scanning his face. Your head was tilted back, almost painfully so, still not recognizing what was happening. The hand around your wrist moved so his thumb could rub your skin till it pressed against your palm. Your gaze went to your hand then, shocked at how small it was compared to his, and you seemed to be registering how small you were compared to him in general. Did he really grow so much since you had met him four years before? Your gaze went back to his face, finally seeming to notice that his face had changed as well. Yes, he was still cute, but he had become devastatingly handsome, maturing into a…man. No, he wasn't a baby anymore, but you were in denial. Even then, pressed against him, even able to feel his toned muscles through his sweatshirt, you kept trying to convince yourself he was still your baby Jisung.

"Jisung?" You exhaled his name, so quiet that if he wasn't so close, he wouldn't have heard. Your eyes followed his when they flicked down to watch your lips move when you whispered his name.

"What makes you think you're not good enough for me?" His voice rumbled through you, its deepness shocking you for some reason. When had that happened? You were so thrown off by the pitch of his voice you barely registered his question.

"Huh?"

"No one else is good enough for me, because they're not you." His hand had dropped your wrist so his arm could wrap around you, and he pressed his cheek to the side of your head. He nuzzled your soft hair, the familiar scent of your shampoo soothing his anger some.

"What?" You stood still, stiff even, trying to process what was happening.

"I don’t want to be your baby Jisung anymore, noona. I just want to be yours." He was a bit surprised with his sudden eloquence, but he just chocked it up to all his upset burning away any shyness he had in the moment. The anger had faded, and he was just upset, tired again, praying in his head that you would get the fucking hint. Your hand, the one he let go, had rested on his chest for balance, then he felt your fingers clutch the fabric of his sweatshirt. With his fingers wrapped around your right hand still, he could feel that your pulse had quickened, and you were minutely shaking.

"Y-you…?" You swallowed hard, tongue running over your lips, mouth feeling dry.

"I thought I just had a crush on you. I don't. I love you." His softened voice floated right into your ear with how his head rested on yours. The back of your nose and throat burned as you swallowed hard, tears sparking in the corners of your eyes. When you hiccupped, sniffing, he flinched, pulling back from you. It was only just enough that he could see your face, his arm still around you, hand still in his over his heart.

"Noona." He sighed softly, dipping and kissing the corner of your eye where a tear had slipped down your cheek. Nope, that made it worse. You burst into tears, chest heaving, and he pulled you back into him. You were…dramatic sometimes. Cried easily. Too easily even. Jisung loved to tease you for crying at a commercial where a little girl brought a quilt out to her sheep in the barn close to Christmas. You also tended to cry around puppies.

"I-I…I-!" Your breath was heaving too much for you to really talk. His nose nuzzled your hair, and he kissed the crown of your head. You sniffed, taking a few deep breaths.

"I love you too." you whispered, if you spoke any louder your sobs would take back over. He didn't know, but while he was gone you were in a much similar situation. You went to visit your parents as well, but it was just an hour or so drive, not across the world practically. You missed him so much, and wouldn't shut up about him, but your mother knew you well enough to see read between the lines. Because it startled you, having romantic feelings for Jisung, you became even more dramatic with the 'baby Jisung' talk. He was your best friend, and so of course you loved him, but you couldn't admit you were in love with him. You were so worried about ruining your friendship that you just ignored your logical thoughts and pretended you hadn't fallen for him. Nearly fighting him when he pulled back from the hug again, you stayed pressed to him, not wanting him to see your face. Not only was it red from your blush, but it was also blotchy from your crying and your nose was close to running.

"Noona." He huffed a laugh, trying to get you off of him. You gripped his sweatshirt tighter.

"(Y/N)." Jisung was fully laughing at that point, partially from your actions and partially from how ecstatic he was that you loved him back.

"No."

"Noona."

"No." Finally, with a bit more force, he pulled back so you could see each other's faces. The warmest smile you had ever seen was on his face and you froze when he leaned in closer. His forehead bumped yours and his nose crinkled, cringing a bit at his own actions but it made you giggle, which made it all worth it.

"Since when?" you asked. He laughed bashfully, lips pursing.

"I didn't realize how bad it was till a few weeks ago while I was still in Korea. But…I knew before that. Something made me realize…"

"What?" You were shocked when his giddy but shy face fell into one of panic.

"W-what?" His face bloomed red, all the way to the tips of his ears and he tried to bow his head to avoid your gaze, but you could just look up into his eyes.

"Uh, well…" He cleared his throat, trying to pull back further but he didn't let your hand go.

"Jisung?" You pressed with a fake stern tone.

"I…had a dream." He faked a cough to try and hide.

"Yeah?" You were clearly not understanding that he was so reluctant to say what it was, because it was filthy. It even made Jaemin blush. The extreme embarrassment in his eyes when they finally met yours clued you in better. You stepped closer, a coy look spreading over your own face, and he took a step back. His hand was still holding yours though, so he wasn't that desperate to get away. He clenched his other hand into a fist, bringing it up and pressing his mouth to his forearm to hide his face.

"Was it something bad?"

"No! Uh…" With each step you tried to get closer, he backed up, till his back hit the wall.

"Was it naughty?" You teased, and he sneered at the cringey word. Your eyes, still a bit puffy from crying, were creased with amusement.

"Uh, I mean…"

"Do you we do something dirty?" Your head tilted up to look at his face as he tried to hide, fingers clenching yours jerkily, the digits desperate to wiggle.

"M-Maybe."

"What?" You smirked, trying not to giggle. You were always more open about sex stuff, not quite like Jaemin or even Donghyuck, but still more than him.

"No." He was throwing your method of deflection back at you.

"You know," you got up on your tip toes so you could whisper into his ear, "if you tell me, we can do it?" Your suggestion made his whole body freeze, blood turning to ice. He nearly gasped when his blood then rapidly heated, the sound of his pulse whooshing in his ears.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, needing to make sure because even just the slightest detail would reveal too much if you weren't. You nodded with a hum, then gasped when he switched your places, hand cupping the back of your head, so it didn't thud into the wall as he pinned you to it, his other forearm holding him up over your head. You could only blink in response, looking at the conflicted expression on his face.

"I don't want to hurt you." What the hell had he dreamt? You were dying to know.

"You won't." Jisung's eyes met yours, brow furrowed in worry.

"I could."

"You could, but you won't. Plus…" Your hands came up to mess with the strings of his hoodie.

"Sometimes a little pain can feel good." Jisung searched your face and saw the determination in your eyes. The hand on the back of your head dug harshly into your hair, tugging at your scalp and you gasped when his mouth sealed against yours. Your teeth clacked against his with the force of the kiss and you whined, trying to match his fervor. You couldn't. His leg nestled between yours, pressing close and against your core, and you had to stand on your tip toes. The fingers in your hair twisted the strands around them and he tugged harder, tipping your head back more, compensating for him looming over you. His knee hit the wall, his leg literally hitching you up an inch and you moaned at the pressure. Jisung snuck his tongue into your mouth then and your breath was rough out of your nose, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth. Panting hard, he pulled back, eyes searching yours. His arm against the wall moved down to your side, still holding him up but also pressing into your waist. The hand in your hair left, the tips of his fingers soothing the slight sting he left on your scalp, then cupped your jaw. Your face looked so small cupped in his palm and something carnal, feral, rose in him.

"You're so little, noona." Jisung's tone was nothing like you had ever heard from him. His hooded gaze focused on your mouth when his thumb easily pressed against your lips, his fingers still stroking the back of your head. You watched his brow quirk up when you took his thumb between your lips, sucking on it. You had expected a blush to erupt, for his voice to sputter and for him to pull back. No. He smirked.

"Do you have any idea what I want to do to you?" Your head had to tilt up once again when he pressed even closer, chest to chest, leg still wedged between yours. You wondered if you had soaked through your panties and thin shorts, and if he could feel it. Then again, he was in sweatpants, but you could feel the fabric clinging to your folds and he had only kissed you. Yes, his thigh was pressed into your covered cunt, but he wasn't moving you on it.

"Tell me?" you whispered when he removed his thumb, eyes focusing on the shine of drool left on it. If you didn't know him better, you would take his intense expression for anger, but even with knowing him so well, you couldn't read his face. Jisung slipped his hand off your jaw, fingers pressing to the back of your neck, thumb resting under your chin. His face came close once more so close his lips brushed slightly on yours as he spoke.

"I want to fuck you so hard you can't walk for the next three days. I want to fuck you so stupid you can't even speak, just whine and beg for more. I want to make you cum so much that your cute little pussy stings. I want you to swallow my cock and I want to cum down your throat." You were going to pass out, you were sure of it. With how quickly the blood rushed to your core, your head swam. Where had your sweet little Jisung gone? How long had he been thinking like that? He couldn't even meet anyone's eyes if sex stuff got brought up around friends. But his words were thick with lust, and they swam into your ears and fogged your brain like a drug. Your thighs twitched, body shuddering when a devilish grin spread over his gorgeous face. He wasn't cute right then; he was destructively sexy, and it took your breath away. You don't think you could ever see him as your sweet little friend again.

"What do you want, noona?" The pet-name even came out different, he said it with near reverence, the single word a one-eighty from the four words preceding it.

"I want…I need you to do anything you want to me." His grin fell, he groaned, and his tongue was back in your mouth. He could taste the candy you had been eating while you spoke those fateful words, eagerly circling your tongue with his. You keened a whining moan when the hand at your neck tightened slightly, his thumb pressing into your windpipe. Your breath hitched, somehow where he gripped it gave the same heady feeling without actually restricting your breathing. What stole your air was the pleasure you were feeling just from his kiss. Your hips jumped, desperate for some friction, grinding your covered pussy against his thigh. Helpfully he pressed into you more, lifting you against the wall more, the weight of gravity pulled you onto him harder. The arm at your side that had been holding him up moved, he was using his knee then for balance, and his fingers teased along the waist band of your shorts. You whimpered when his hand continued, sneaking its way into the back of your shorts and panties, the hot pads of his fingers meeting your slick folds. You shivered and took heaving breaths when he removed himself from the kiss. His other hand was still at your throat, but he released the light pressure, making your heavy breaths easier to control.

"You're soaked, noona. For me?"

"Fuck, yes, Jisung." Expecting a kiss when he moved closer once more, he gripped your jaw, tilting your head back, thumb hooking your bottom lip. You let him move your jaw, holding your mouth open, waiting for his next move. His grin broke when he let a glob of spit fall from his lip and into your awaiting mouth. Without needing a prompt, when his thumb left your mouth, you swallowed.

"Good girl, noona." Slowly, he pulled away from you and the wall, stepping back only enough that he could take his hoodie off. He went ahead and let his shirt underneath go along with it and your heart leapt.

"Fucking hell." You gasped, reaching forward to eagerly run your fingers over him. While he wasn't necessarily to the level of Jeno or even Jaemin, for having a dancer's body he still had muscle. When had that gotten there? He barely wore anything tight let alone without sleeves, so you had no idea. He felt a wave of bashfulness rising, so he took control once again, pulling your small hands from his skin.

"Off." He prompted and you grabbed the hem of his shirt you were wearing, and he finished the job, tossing it down the hall. Clicking his tongue at your bra, you started to reach around your back to undo it, but he beat you to it. With an easy flick, it snapped open, and you let it drop, wide eyes staring at him. Where the fucking hell had he learned to do that?

"Jaemin." He must have read your mind and that made plenty of sense. Not able to even process your next move, he scooped you up easily, pressing you back into the wall. You squeaked, wrapping your mostly bare legs around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders, he was more or less eye-level with you then. He dropped you a bit, preferring you under him more, and his nose nuzzled under your ear. He felt the goose bumps rising on your skin against his, his top just as bare as yours. His hands once again buried under the waist band of your shorts, fingers so long that the tips slipped out the leg holes of your panties, cupping your ass perfectly.

"God, Jisung!" Your body twitched when his light nuzzles immediately turned into open mouth kisses, then he sucked hard, working the skin with his lips and teeth. Popping off of your neck, his tongue ran over the flesh, blood rising and pooling at the surface. The fingers on his shoulders tightened, the blunt edges of your nails digging into his skin, and his own hips jumped then. You had been trying to ignore the tent in his pants, but he grinded his hardened cock against your cunt, only a few layers of fabric between. Jisung seemed to be big in every way.

"You still on the pill?"

"Yes, why?" You shuddered once more as he licked at the third hickey he left, that one on your collarbone.

"I need to fuck you raw." He groaned as your cunt throbbed, easily feeling it against his cock even with the clothing barrier.

"Want to pump you so full, my cum's dripping out of you for hours." Your eyes rolled back as you whined, head thrown back. You squeaked when he jostled you up higher, those beautiful and surprisingly sinful lips sucking in a nipple. Sighing at the feeling, he wasn't pleased with the gentle noise, and so he nibbled the peak instead. You yiped like a dog (ironic since he was planning on fucking you like one), a little dazed by how high up the wall he had you. Despite the altitude, he seemed to be easily holding you up, though he was able to use the wall for help. When his mouth moved to your other breast, he smirked at the red and swollen nipple he left. Your body felt like it was on fire and you both still had your pants on.

"Can I fuck you raw, noona? Feel your pussy cling to my cock?" His mouth was at your ear again, having dropped you back down to an easier level. His dick hadn't even entered you and you felt too stupid to talk.

"Please." You mewled and your submissive tone made him groan. Jisung's hands left your shorts, shoving them down off of you as he partially let you go. Your feet dangled slightly as you toed off the last of your clothes, then you yelped as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack of rice.

"J-Jisung-!?" You yelped as his hand smacked your ass, most likely leaving a big red print on your skin. The sting of the spank sent tendrils of fire right to your cunt as he stormed down the hall toward your room, your bed bigger than his. You flinched at the slam of your door as he closed it, huffing as he nearly dropped you.

"Knees." He prompted, ordered, and your body instantly obeyed. Going down the rest of the way to the floor, you sat with your knees in an 'M', gazing up at him with big glossy eyes. You were trying hard not to gape at the bulge in his sweatpants, or to run your gaze hungrily over his bare torso.

"Go ahead, noona." He nearly laughed at your eagerness, quickly reaching for the waistband of his pants and pulling them off, his hard cock bobbing in the air before you. Your wide, enraptured stare on his dick gave him a rush of nerves and pride all at once. While you came to terms with your fate, he shoved his sweatpants to the side, and you shuffled forward. Whimpering, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, big and pretty like him. Swallowing your eyes met his.

"C-Can I grab something?" Your request threw him off, but he nodded, and you scrambled up and to your nightstand. Trotting back over, you stood demurely before him, holding the item out with both palms up. He took the little bottle from you, looking at it.

"Throat numbing spray?" His brow crooked and he looked at you, biting your lip with a giddy glaze over your eyes. It still had plastic wrap on the nozzle. Nodding once, you sank back to your knees, and he groaned low when you opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"Why do you have this, noona?" His tone was slightly patronizing as he tore the plastic off, then spritzed the watermelon flavored spray into your mouth. Swallowing a few times, the dull sensation you could even register faded, leaving a very minute feeling in your throat.

"Guess." You giggled, hand wrapping back around his cock. Jisung buried his hand in your hair again, tugging hard to make you look back up at him.

"You've used it before?"

"I'm not a virgin, Ji." Your normal, casual tone didn't sit right with him in the moment, and he twisted your hair again, the stinging twinge making you moan softly.

"Only for me now?"

"Yes." You nodded to further emphasize your point, and his grip loosened. With a much softer hold on your head, he pressed you closer, letting you take over. Swallowing a buildup of saliva, your tongue swirled around the head of his dick, the salty taste of his precum eagerly lapped up. He was barely half-way in your mouth when the head hit your numbed throat, your jaw protesting some already. His eyes shut as he groaned, only fluttering open to watch you take his cock even deeper down your throat. The spray helped you not to gag, and you swallowed over and over, holding your breath, your nose pressing to his groin. Your hand fell, landing next to your other one as you pressed your hands to the floor. Pulling back enough that you could breathe, you twisted your head like a curious dog, eyes searing into his.

"Ready?" You moaned and his hands were back in your hair, hips jumping, burying his cock back inside your throat. Despite the numbing, tears sprung to your eyes, a slight gag leaving you. Holding still like a good girl, Jisung pumped his fat cock into your mouth and down your throat, breathing harshly through your nose when you could.

"Fuck, you feel so good, noona." He sighed, head thrown back, making sure not to use full force as he rolled his hips. Even with him holding back, you could feel the strength of his movements and you felt a puddle of wet forming on the laminate floor under you, cunt clenching around nothing.

"You better swallow it all, (Y/N)." He tried not to whimper, but he couldn't help it, letting you inhale deeply before burying his cock all the way into your gullet, pumping thick strands of hot cum down your throat. Your core spasmed, eyes fluttering as you eagerly swallowed over and over, the heat of his release warming your chest. When you woke up that morning you never dreamed you would be eagerly swallowing Jisung's cock as he came buckets down your throat. As the last little wave died, he quickly removed his still half-hard cock, brow furrowing with worry as you gasped for air. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, face red and messy, but you opened up, tongue out, to show him you obediently swallowed every drop.

"You're so fucking good, sweetheart." You gasped softly, the pet-name going straight to your needy cunt. Jisung used his index finger to gather the saliva and pre that had dripped down your chin, letting you lick it off.

"Get on the bed, it's my turn." As soon as his finger retracted, you stood quickly, albeit shakily and went to stand by the bed.

"W-which way?" His hands on your shoulders turned you to face the bed, back to him. With a shove, you fell onto the mattress, chest pressed to the surface, hips bumping the end of the bed. You then heard a light thump, and his hands were back on your ass.

"Fuck!" You gasped as his thumbs spread your soaking folds, blowing a stream of air against your fluttering core.

"Did you cum when I did, sweetheart?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl." You could hear his smirk, then you cried out as you buried your hands into the sheets, his tongue burrowing into your hot cunt. Jisung easily held your hips still, his arm wrapping around the front of your legs, his free hand splayed over the small of your back. When his tongue left your pussy, it swirled over your clit, and he sucked it in once before running through the slit of your folds and wiggling back inside. He did this a few more times, eagerly drinking your slick.

"Fuckfuckfuck." You shuddered, not even able to warn him as your next orgasm hit, much stronger than the small one you had not even five minutes prior. He held you down as your body shook, gummy walls fluttering and throbbing around his tongue.

"You taste so good, noona." You nearly heard him lick his lips, pulse still whooshing in your ears.

"A-ah?!" You squealed when his hands parted your ass cheeks, his tongue moving up from your soaking cunt and swirling over your pucker.

"J-Jisung!?" You gasped harder, not sure how to feel about the sensation. Grateful you took a shower not even two hours ago, you still weren't really expecting his tongue to go from your pussy to your ass.

"Don't worry, noona. I just wanna taste today." He lapped over your pucker once more, then pulled back, huffing in amusement at your still twitching thighs. You were already tired, he could tell, but he was painfully hard again. Jisung's thoughts ran rampant as he tried to decide how he wanted you as he fucked you first. Your pose would do just fine.

"Hm, so wet, sweetheart." He stood so he could lean over you on the bed, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other hand leading his cock to run through your folds. You knew it was big in your mouth but feeling it at your entrance made you shiver. As the head of his cock started to breach your gummy walls, the burning sting made you sigh in delight, the heat of his skin scorching through you. Breathing hard, trying to relax, your cunt fluttered still as he buried deeper, slowly. His deep, low groan faded into a chuckle as he watched your pussy suck in his cock. At the last inch, he snapped his hips, filling you fully, head pressing into your cervix.

"Ah, FUCK!" You white knuckled the sheets, toes curling, forcing you to tip toe, his pelvis pressing to your hips. You breathed raggedly, getting used to not just the burn his fat cock forced from your walls, but the stinging pleasure the same burn forced through you. You hadn't been fucked in way too long, and you were already sure no one would ever feel as good as Jisung did right then. You had needed him, not just any guy, but him. That's why you hadn't tried looking for a date, your subconscious knowing you needed your sweet friend to rail you stupid. Jisung breathed hard as well, trying to let you get at least a little used to the stretch, but your sticky, wet heat felt too good.

"I need to move, (Y/N)."

"Please~" You whined, squealing with delight as he pulled back no more than halfway, then slowly back in. It was like he sucked the air out of you, then forced it back in, but his next thrust made you see stars. As he leaned over you, hips battering your ass with hard, shallow thrusts, his hands laid over yours, weaving his fingers through yours. The sweet move was overshadowed by his animal pace, your whimpers and squeaks just as feral. He was still trying to hold back some, but when he couldn't hold back a hard snap, he felt the same flutter as before and ground his cock into you as you came, spurts of slick coating his groin and balls as you squirted over him. Your shudders and pulses lasted nearly twice as long and when you finally laid still, he started back up himself. Your cunt stung slightly, not ready for the friction once more, but the pain just fueled the pleasure. Without the bed underneath you, you would have melted onto the floor, no strength left. Wanting to protest when he unwound your fingers, he fell forward, his bare chest to your back. Not too tightly, he wrapped his arm under you, across your collar bone, then chest, pulling you up just enough that the arm around you restricted you, forcing your elbows to your hips. Your nails dug into the fabric under your lower stomach, Jisung easily holding you up just a bit from the bed. His other arm also snaked around you, his hand laying over your lower stomach. You were sensitive there, more than most people, and just the pressure alone made you mewl. Jisung pressed harder, able to feel the bulge of his cock below your skin and as he settled into position, you realized why he was holding you so tight. He was holding you in place. His next thrust started with only the head of him inside, then he barreled his cock back into you, fucking you with abandon. You gasped, not able to even squeak or moan, mouth open in a silent scream, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth.

"Ji-Jisung-! Please, fuck!" You breathed out, your next orgasm washing over you, leaving the friction painful. The pain crested hard and fast as he continued to pound into you, fading back into pleasure. So much of your release and wet spilled from your fluttering cunt that it dripped onto the floor, down both of your thighs.

"I'm going to cum, noona. Fill you up, yeah?" He whimpered deeply, almost groaning, hips faltering just slightly.

"Yes, yes, Jisung!" He dropped both of you to the bed then, pressing you down into the mattress, gouging his cock as deep as he could, and pumping your protected womb and cunt full of hot cum. It spurted out in globs with your own cum, dripping a bigger puddle on the floor, the hard pulse of his cock even stronger as he filled you. Your vision blurred, ears ringing as you came once more, grateful that he stilled, actually really hurting at that point. Reveling in his full weight on your back, he then registered he was laying on you like that and pulled up just a bit.

"You okay?" He nuzzled the back of your ear.

"S-stings." You got out hoarsely.

"Ah." He winced with you as he pulled his still half-hard length from you, more globs of jizz and slick leaving your cunt.

"I don't think I'll walk for four days." You muttered. It took him a second to register what you meant, before he burst into laughter, pressing his sweaty forehead to your shaking shoulder.

"Good enough?" Jisung asked, making you hum.

"Fucking perfect."

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

420 notes · View notes

redvdress · 28 days ago

Text

SILENT TREATMENT

A/N: since i’m still working on a request i thought i could write some silent treatment prompt and i thought hawks would fit this perfectly, if y’all like the idea i might start writing this for more characters, let me know!! btw this is for all you anons, don’t be shy and fill my inbox with requests! i might take a bit to reply but i will. soo now i let you enjoy this, pro hero hawks x implied hero and jealous reader

It all started out fine. Great, even.

You and Hawks had attended one of those Hero Association galas together—one of the usual social events that required Pro Heroes to show up, smile for the cameras, and rub elbows with their colleagues.

Hawks, being Hawks, of course, thrived at these events.

He looked sharp in his suit, his usual swagger even more noticeable as he navigated the room like it was second nature to him. You couldn’t deny how good he looked tonight, wings folded behind him, that lazy grin on his face as he effortlessly entertained the people around him.

But that was exactly the problem.

It was too effortless. Way too effortless when it came to her.

One of the most popular heroes, had been chatting with Keigo for far too long, standing a little too close. You tried not to let it bother you at first.

Really, you did.

But the longer they laughed and the more she touched his arm with her annoyingly perfect, manicured hands, the harder it became to ignore that sinking feeling in your chest. He looked so relaxed, so comfortable with her. And those wings of hers—large, radiant, and golden, ugh, it was too much.

And he just kept smiling that signature ‘Hawks smile’, the one that made you weak in the knees, but tonight? It irritated you to no end. How could he stand there looking so smug and not realize how irritated you were becoming?

Then the hero said something, and Hawks threw his head back in laughter, his wings fluttering in delight. That was it. That was the final straw.

You turned sharply on your heel and walked off, ignoring the curious glance Hawks threw your way as you disappeared into the crowd.

The silent treatment was officially in session.

By the time you got home, the irritation had boiled over. You were mad. And yeah, maybe a little jealous too. But more than that, you were frustrated. Didn’t he realize how he made you feel when he flirted like that, even if it was harmless? Didn’t he understand how it looked from your perspective? He was used to it so it wasn’t a big deal, but it wasn’t for him.

You never acted jealous before, but this time you couldn’t help it. So poor Hawks couldn’t know what he put himself into now.

You threw your bag onto the couch and stormed into the bedroom, already determined to make a point. If Hawks wanted to act oblivious, then fine. You could play that game too. You weren’t going to talk to him. Let him figure it out.

A few minutes later, you heard the door click open and the soft shuffle of boots being kicked off.

Here we go.

“Honey, I’m home!” came his usual singsong voice from the entryway, completely unaware of the brewing storm. “Man, that party was something, huh? Can you believe how many people were there? I couldn’t go five minutes without someone trying to chat me up.”

You stayed in the bedroom, not bothering to answer as you sat down on the bed, arms crossed. You weren’t going to make this easy for him.

After a pause, you heard him shuffle closer. “Uh, babe?” His voice came from the hallway, a little slower now, like he was starting to pick up on the fact that something was off. “You good?”

You didn’t respond.

Hawks peeked his head into the bedroom, his golden eyes scanning the room until they landed on you, sitting there with your arms crossed and a very deliberate expression of ‘I’m pissed’ on your face. He blinked, then a slow grin tugged at his lips as he entered the room.

“Ohhh, I see how it is,” he drawled, his voice light and teasing. He walked over to the bed, standing just close enough to be annoying but not enough to invade your personal space. “We’re doing the silent treatment thing, huh?”

You ignored him, staring straight ahead. Your lips pressed together tightly.

Hawks leaned down a little, tilting his head as he tried to meet your gaze. “Y’know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go all quiet on me. I was gonna talk to you anyway.”

Nothing.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Really? Not even a little response?” He straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at you with a smirk. “You’re killing me here, dove.”

You held firm, though it was getting harder to keep your expression neutral with him standing there like that, looking all too pleased with himself. You were determined to make him sweat it out, just a little longer.

Hawks was not deterred. In fact, he looked like he was getting a kick out of this.

“Okay, alright. I get it. You’re upset,” he said, pacing dramatically around the room, his wings fluttering a little with each step. “But I have a theory.” He paused and pointed at you, as if he’d just solved a complex case. “You’re jealous!”

He grinned like he’d just cracked the code, his eyes twinkling with mischief. You shot him a side glance, your resolve wavering, but you kept quiet.

“Ohhhh,” he drawled, flapping his wings in mock surprise. “This makes so much sense now! It’s because of h/n (i have no fantasy), isn’t it?” He dramatically placed a hand over his heart. “I mean, can you blame her? I’m a total catch. But don’t worry, you’re the one who gets to keep me.” He gave you a cheesy wink, fully aware that he was pushing it now.

You glared at him for a split second before quickly looking away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“C’mon,” he said, walking up behind you. He leaned down, his arms lightly wrapping around your shoulders as his chin rested on your head. “You know she’s just a fan, right? People can’t resist my charm. Even you.”

He was insufferable. And unfortunately, also right.

You huffed but didn’t say a word, keeping your arms crossed as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck.

“Babe,” he whispered dramatically, drawing out the word, “are you really gonna stay mad at me? Over a little harmless conversation?”

Still, you said nothing, though you felt his hands shift to your shoulders, gently squeezing in an attempt to coax a reaction out of you.

Hawks, sensing that you weren’t breaking yet, pulled back slightly. “Alright. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

And then, before you could react, his hands slipped under your arms and started tickling you mercilessly.

“C’mon! Say something! Admit you love me!” he teased, his fingers working rapidly as you tried—and failed—not to burst out laughing.

You squirmed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless. “Keigo, stop!” you finally squealed, laughter bubbling up as you tried to twist out of his grasp.

“Oh! You spoke!” Hawks exclaimed with mock shock, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he continued his assault. “I knew it! You can’t resist me!”

“Keigo!” you cried through laughter, finally managing to wriggle free of his grasp, breathless from laughing. You glared at him, but it wasn’t a real glare—more of an exasperated smile.

Keigo flopped down on the bed next to you, his wings splaying out as he propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning like a kid who had just won a game. “There it is,” he said smugly, “I knew I could get you to crack.”

You rolled your eyes, but the irritation had mostly melted away at this point.

“You’re an idiot.”

He smirked, shifting closer until he was right next to you, his face inches from yours. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he said, his voice softening a little as he nudged you playfully.

You sighed, the last remnants of your jealousy fading as you leaned into him slightly, unable to stay mad any longer. “You seriously need to tone it down with the flirting at these events,” you muttered, giving him a halfhearted shove.

Hawks chuckled, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. “Flirting? Nah, that’s just me being friendly. You know I only have eyes for you.” His voice was sincere now, even though the playful tone still lingered at the edges.

You raised an eyebrow, still not entirely convinced. “Friendly?”

He grinned again, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Okay, maybe a little flirty. But can you blame me? I’m naturally charming. It just happens.”

You let out a groan, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

He leaned back, grinning as if he’d just won the most important battle of his life. “Yep. But you love me anyway.”

You sighed, giving in completely as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Unfortunately for me, I do.”

Hawks chuckled, his fingers lightly playing with a strand of your hair. “See? I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me. I’m just too lovable.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, the warmth of his presence chasing away the last bits of jealousy from earlier in the night.

He smirked, clearly satisfied with himself as he wrapped his wings around you, cocooning you in the soft, comforting warmth of his feathers. “Now that that’s settled… how about we grab some late-night takeout and binge-watch something? My treat, since, y’know, I’m such a great boyfriend and all.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of the earlier frustration lifting completely as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his warm, golden gaze. “Fine. But you’re paying for everything.”

“Deal,” Hawks said, pressing another kiss to your forehead before jumping up from the bed with renewed energy. “Anything for my favorite girl.”

As you watched him dash out of the room to grab his phone, wings fluttering excitedly, you realized it was practically impossible to stay mad at him for long.

Keigo then lleaned in, giving you one of those cheeky, lopsided grins that always made your heart flutter. His eyes softened just a little as he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to your lips—one of those ‘I’m cute, and you know it’ kinds of kisses.

Pulling back just an inch, he looked you dead in the eyes with that smirk still plastered on his face and asked, “Now can you forgive me?”

You could already feel the corner of your lips twitching in amusement. His tone was so light, so sure that you’d just let him off the hook with no problem. So, naturally, you decided to mess with him a little. You put on your most serious expression, crossing your arms again and raising an eyebrow as if you were deep in thought.

After a long, dramatic pause, you shook your head slowly and said, “No.”

His face was priceless.

At first, he just blinked at you, clearly expecting you to laugh right away. When you didn’t, his brow furrowed slightly. “Wait… no?” he echoed, his wings twitching with a little nervous flutter. He wasn’t used to this—he could normally charm his way out of anything in less than five minutes, especially with you. “You mean—seriously?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing and nodded. “Yup. Not forgiven.”

The sheer confusion that spread across his face was both hilarious and oddly endearing. Hawks scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But… I kissed you,” he said, as if that alone should’ve been enough to completely melt away any lingering frustration.

He gestured vaguely toward his lips, clearly struggling to figure out why his master plan wasn’t working. “I gave you the classic kiss of apology. That’s supposed to work every time.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think it over, then shrugged casually. “Ehhh, wasn’t enough. You’re gonna have to do better than that, bird brain.”

Hawks’ mouth dropped open in disbelief, and his wings puffed out a little in what could only be described as a mini panic mode. “I—what? Better than that? What, do I need to pull out a ring? Get down on one knee? Hire a skywriter?” He paused, a mischievous glint suddenly entering his eyes. “Or… do you want me to serenade you with an original song? I can bust out a guitar and everything, babe.”

You snorted, unable to help the giggle that escaped. “Please don’t.”

“Oh, so you’re serious, huh?” He gave a mock serious nod, like he was really thinking this through now, eyes narrowing as if this was the most challenging mission he’d ever faced. “Alright, fine. How about this? Tomorrow morning, I’ll make you breakfast. Like, a real breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, the whole works. I’ll even throw in some of those fancy berries you like.”

You raised an eyebrow, still playing along. “I don’t know… I feel like breakfast might not be enough.”

Hawks gasped dramatically, his wings fluttering up with the motion. “Not enough? Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend? This is outrageous!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his theatrics, but you managed to keep a straight face long enough to reply. “I mean… how do I know it’ll be a good breakfast? I’m not sure you’ve ever even made pancakes before. What if they come out burnt?”

Now he was on a mission. He threw his hand over his heart like he was swearing an oath. “Burnt pancakes? Me? Impossible! I’ll have you know, I was trained by the best chefs—uh, youtube videos,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “but still! I’m a fast learner.”

You finally cracked, shaking your head as you laughed. “Hawks, you’re ridiculous.”

He stepped closer, his voice dipping into that playful, persuasive tone he always used when he was trying to charm his way out of trouble. “Come on, dove. I’ll even make the coffee just the way you like it. And I’ll clean the dishes after, too. And—” he paused for dramatic effect, eyes twinkling as he leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours—“I’ll even give you one of my feathers. For free.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous offer, but you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips. “Oh, one feather? Such generosity. I’m truly blessed.”

He beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “See? Now we’re getting somewhere. That’s a Hawks Special Offer. I don’t just give these feathers away to anyone, y’know.”

You laughed, finally giving in as you lightly shoved him away, but he only pulled you back into his arms, his wings wrapping around the two of you in a feathery cocoon. His golden eyes softened, the playfulness giving way to something more sincere as he pressed his forehead gently to yours.

“Seriously, though,” he murmured, his voice a little quieter now, “I’m sorry if I made you feel ignored earlier. I get caught up in the crowd sometimes, but you’re always the one I come back to. You’re the one I want, dove.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you leaned into him, letting the last bits of annoyance fade completely. “You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered, your voice muffled slightly against his chest.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I know. But hey, I’m pretty lovable, right?” He leaned back just enough to look at you, a smirk returning to his lips. “So, are we good now? Or do I still have to make that five-star breakfast tomorrow?”

You smiled up at him, shaking your head. “You still owe me breakfast. I’m holding you to that.”

Hawks grinned, his wings ruffling in excitement. “Deal. I’ll even throw in some bonus wing cuddles. How’s that for a peace offering?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes again but letting yourself sink into his warmth. “Fine. You’re forgiven. But those pancakes better be perfect.”

He puffed out his chest proudly, his wings fluffing up behind him. “They’ll be the best damn pancakes you’ve ever had. Guaranteed.” Then he paused, as if something just occurred to him, and with an overly dramatic sigh, he added, “And if they aren’t, well… I guess you’ll just have to teach me.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You mean I’ll end up cooking breakfast?”

“Exactly!” he said with a wink, completely shameless. “See, teamwork makes the dream work!”

Shaking your head, you playfully swatted at him as he laughed, his wings drawing you closer again. “Don’t push your luck, bird brain.”

He grinned wider, leaning in to steal another kiss. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

229 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

reader making a new friend (who is a male btw) and poly!marauders get jealous and snap at reader, for example saying, ‘go hang out with ____ ‘ and reader understands and reassures them that no such thing as reader leaving marauders would ever happen.

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 860 words

"There you are, angel!" James gushes as you walk in the door. "We've been waiting, where've you been?"

You stop short, caught offguard by the onslaught of attention as three pairs of eyes pin you in front of the door. Your boyfriends are all sitting at the table, untouched bowls of pasta in front of them and one by your empty chair.

"Sorry," you say slowly, easing your bag off your shoulder and taking off your shoes. "I didn't realize you were waiting. Liam wanted to show me some new music he's found, so I stayed late." You hustle to your chair, and James begins shoveling pasta into his mouth eagerly.

"Oh, Liam asked you to stay," Sirius says drily, stabbing at his bowl with a fork. "Awesome."

You frown. Liam started at your work a couple of months ago, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was funny, you liked a lot of the same things, and everyone who you'd introduced him to adored him. Everyone, except your boyfriends. "He didn't ask me to stay, I offered because I wanted to hear it. And I didn't ask you to wait up for me, either."

James swallows. "We tried to call you, and texted you a bunch," he says, and the quiet of his voice is so unlike him that your anxiety instantly heightens.

You whip out your phone, seeing missed calls and texts from each of the boys taking up the entire screen. You'd forgotten to turn the sound back on after your shift.

"I'm sorry," you say, putting it away, and you mean it, but none of the boys really seems to want to look at you.

And as quickly as your shame rose to the surface, indignation comes in to replace it. This is so unlike them. Sirius will occaisionally make a teasing comment about you leaving them for one of your celebrity crushes, but none of your boyfriends are truly the jealous type. You're in a polyamorous relationship, for Merlin's sake. This sort of possessiveness has never been part of the deal.

"What's your problem with him?" You stare them down in turn, and only Sirius is bold enough to meet your heated gaze.

"You're with him when you should be with us!" He snaps. "Just look at tonight—James made dinner, and where were you? With him! So why are you even here now? Let's just cut the bullshit, and you can go hang out with Liam."

James had...James never cooks. That always falls to you or Remus, but tonight...you look at the pasta, which you've yet to take a bite of, and you're hit with a guilt that feels like nausea. It's your favorite. James cooked it for you.

"You have been seeing a lot of him lately," Remus says quietly, and his tone is more controlled than Sirius', but you see the protective hand he sets on James' knee under the table. "And you talk about him all the time. Do you really not see why our minds would go there?"

"I didn't...you guys are serious about this?" Your voice wavers, and that gets them all to look at you. You see the truth of it in their faces, sullen and embarrassed and tense, as if apprehensive of what you'll do next. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way, I—fuck, Jamie, can I give you a hug?"

"Course," he says softly, and rush to him, pressing your face into his dark curls.

"Thank you for dinner, love," you say, feeling like your heart is breaking. "I didn't mean to be late, and I should have remembered to turn my phone back on, I'm so sorry. This is so lovely of you." You turn so you can see the other boys, still cradling James' head in one hand. "Liam and I are just friends, I promise. I didn't know...I thought it was just teasing, the way you talked about him. I didn't mean to let you worry. And I'm sorry if I've been blowing you off lately."

"It hasn't been that often, dove." Remus is the first to warm, looking at you kindly. "Just, could you let us know if you're going to be very late?"

You feel like your chest has hollowed out at the realization of how this has been weighing on them. "Yeah, of course." You release James to return to your seat, leaning over to press a kiss to Sirius' head as you pass him, and he rolls his eyes with a reluctance you suspect is mostly feigned by now. "You really think I could find someone better than you three? You're out of your minds," you quip, taking some pasta onto your fork and inhaling the aroma of the sauce appreciatively. You think you see James sit up a bit straighter with pride. "As if there's anyone who could give me more than what I already have. Honestly, I'm at full capacity, love-wise."

Sirius snorts, finally eating some of his own pasta. "I know. This apartment is hardly large enough for the four of us, where would Liam sleep?"

2K notes · View notes

oppopotamus · 7 months ago

Note

hear me out on my glorious king sukuna, but more specifically, megkuna, after the gojo vs sukuna fight ryomen decides to show off by fucking his slut (the reader) in front of everybody thru the eyes of mel mei’s crows, forcing everyone to realize who the real strongest sorcerer is, the reader is like uraume in a sense but instead of being a personalized chef/assistant the reader is sukuna’s lifelong cocksleeve, btw ur work is absolutely BEAUTIFUL keep it up handsome 🫶🏽

Cocksleeve

THIS WAS SO SCRUMPTIOUS TY

srry it took so long I took a MASSIVE break from writing

also TYSM ily <33

Warning: NSFW, sukuna calls you cockwhore, cocksleeve, etc, you can't say no, you don't know the crows r watching

You were breathing heavily, rushing around to find Sukuna, you had no idea where he was an you were scared.

You ran for what felt like ages until you found him, "Sukuna!" You called you to him as you ran up to him, looking up at the tall curse.

"Ah, you're here." Sukuna didn't even look at you, keeping his eyes focused on some crows that were observing you both while perched on the trees.

"Why are you looking at the birds?" You ask, tilting your head curiously.

"Oh..." That's when Sukuna smirks, suddenly getting an idea. "Yes, they're just birds, don't worry about them."

You raise an eyebrow at his suspicious behaviour but choose not to comment on it, instead you fidget with the sleeves of your sweater.

"Why don't we have some fun, hm? I'm awfully stressed after my fight y'know." Sukuna asks, but really you don't actually have a choice, although he always asks, you can't refuse him.

"Right here? But... what if someone sees...?" You ask nervously, still fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

"Nobody is around, no-one will see." Sukuna smirks, looking directly at one of the crows.

"Plus, you know you can't say no to me."

You nervously shuffle your feet, you know you can't refuse, an although you're used to sex with Sukuna, you always get nervous.

"Alright then..."

Sukuna doesn't need anymore encouragement before he's spinning you around, pushing you down onto the ground in a downward dog position.

You yelp and quickly place your hands in front of you to support yourself as Sukuna presses down on your lower back, forcing you onto your knees.

He wants to do it Doggystyle I guess...

You let out a quiet whine and stay still waiting for Sukuna's next move.

He smacks your ass with his large hand, making you jump, it didn't hurt much since you were wearing jeans but it still gave you a slight shock.

Sukuna slowly drags your pants and underwear down, making them bunch up at your knees. He grabs the butt plug you have in an wiggles it around, making you whine.

"Mm, Kuna..."

"Yes, my little pet?"

You wiggle your ass impatiently, you hate being teased.

He drags the plug out, making you hiss and shiver.

"You're so loose, did you wear this all day?" He asks while shoving the plug into his pocket for later.

You whine and nod as he rubs his thumb over your whole, not pressing in, just teasingly rubbing it.

"That's what I like to see, what a good boy."

Sukuna smirks and pulls his cock out, slapping it against your ass.

Before you know it he's thrusting in and out of you at an inhumane pace, you scream and dig your nails into the ground.

"Good little cocksleeve, huh?" Sukuna asks as he smacks your ass, his other hand holding onto your waist to keep you still as he relentlessly fucks you.

"Bein' such a good boy for me, yeah? You gonna be a good cockwhore and take all my cock?"

"Mm! Y-Yes! I-I'll be good... m' promise-"

Your arms give out, forcing you to fall onto your chest with your ass in the air.

You look back over your shoulder at Sukuna but he's not paying attention to you, rather to the crows.

You find it odd how focused he is on them, but you pay no mind to it, you're too focused on how fucking fast Sukuna's fucking you.

"Kuna! Kuna!" You whine and moan, your hands digging into the ground as your legs shake.

"You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum for me, baby." Sukuna groans as he feels your hole tighten as you cum, squeezing around his cock making him fill you up.

The second Sukuna pulls out your entire body falls limp onto the cold ground, breathing heavily and sweating.

"Good boy." Sukuna chuckles and gives your ass a tight squeeze before pulling the plug out of his pocket, he shoves it back into your ass, making sure all his cum is kept in your hole.

The feeling makes you whine and squirm, but you have to admit, it's really hot.

"I hope they had a good show." Sukuna smirks, looking up at the crows.

"Huh? You hope who had a good show? The crows?" You ask in confusion.

"You could say that."

#male reader #male reader blog #male reader smut #bottom male reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk #jjk sukuna #sub male reader

408 notes · View notes

solxamber · 1 month ago

Note

Hi sol!!! My first request!!! :333

Yayy I'm happy we're moots <33 be sure to always stay healthy, drink water and stuff and have a good day/night/afternoon/evening :)

Anywaysss here's my request! (This is Romantic btw 😝)

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a reader (I say reader, just as a gender neutral term lol, also can the reader be in Pomefiore? :3) who is like a perfect role model for people— They're smart, kind and always understanding, mature. But what made them like the reader even more is that: even while they are all the aspects of a perfect model student; at the same time, they aren't like that sometimes.

They are understanding to people and responsible with their academics, but they also have a mischievous side— they can be a bit snarky and reckless in certain situations, they can effortlessly balance out their responsibility in school with their mischievousness (which sort of made them fall for the reader even more, bc they sound so cool and shi)

If the reader was with Ace, Epel. They'll show a more responsible and mature approach, they aren't entirely strict (unlike both of their housewardens) but will always tell them if they're doing something that would get them in trouble. But they do have slight instances where they are a bit out of character.. Like how the reader climbed a whole ass tree in their Pomefiore uniform to grab an item that was stuck on the tree (even if they could just grab it with magic) and gave it back

But on the other hand, If they were with Riddle, Deuce— I guess you could say that they can be responsible and mature, but with a more visible hint of mischief. They annoy Riddle for fun, teasing Deuce if he didn't know something that was pretty obvious already (they apologize, of course). Like how they annoyed Riddle so bad that they got collared, but came back with a strawberry tart that was decorated with red and white roses or how they slightly chuckle when Deuce is confused...

LIKE.. DO YOU GET MY VISION PELAKSEEEL ☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭 PLEASE GET IT... I KNOW MY ASK IS A BIT LING BUT THIS IS EATING MY BRAIN ☹️☹️

Deuce, Riddle, Ace, Epel with a Pomefiore! reader

omg hi 🫶🫶 I think I saw the vision but let me know if you wanted something different!

Deuce Spade

Deuce had always admired how perfect you seemed—a Pomefiore student, embodying grace, responsibility, and intelligence. It was hard not to look up to you. You were someone who aced all your tests, helped classmates without a second thought, and stayed out of trouble. Or so he thought.

It wasn’t until you found him trying to fix an overgrown potion plant that things started to shift. Deuce, sweating buckets, was yanking at the roots of the plant, clearly struggling. “I don’t get it! How did this thing grow so fast? It’s like a magic beanstalk on steroids!”

You watched him for a moment, amused. “Deuce, you’re pulling at the wrong part. You need to loosen the soil around the roots first. Want some help?”

Deuce looked up, grateful, only to realize you weren’t offering your help with magic. Instead, you were already on your hands and knees, digging into the soil. The sight of a Pomefiore student willingly getting dirt under their perfectly manicured nails had him wide-eyed. He was about to say something when you added, “Come on, get in here, or we’ll be stuck dealing with this all day.”

It wasn’t just your willingness to get dirty that caught him off guard. It was your mischievousness. When he finally asked you about it, you just smiled, saying, “Being perfect is boring, Deuce. Sometimes, you’ve got to do things the fun way. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

And just like that, you made him laugh, breaking through his seriousness. You’d joke with him when he messed up, but never in a mean way. “Wow, Deuce, did you really forget to add the salamander tail? That’s like the second step of the potion.” And when he’d look at you in frustration, you’d quickly add, “I’m just teasing. Here, let’s fix it.”

He even started looking forward to your teasing. It wasn’t mocking—it was gentle, almost affectionate, and when you laughed, he found himself laughing too. One day, after a particularly exhausting lecture, you came up to him with a sly grin. “So, Deuce, how does it feel to know the square root of 144? Life-changing, right?”

He groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Shut up…”

But the real turning point was when you climbed a tree in your pristine Pomefiore uniform. You were helping Deuce and Ace find something stuck in a tree—some stupid ball or something—and instead of using magic, you hauled yourself up the trunk like it was nothing. Deuce gawked, his brain short-circuiting as he watched you hop from branch to branch.

“You know you could’ve just… used magic, right?” he asked when you finally hopped back down, tossing the ball to Ace.

You shrugged, “Where’s the fun in that?”

From that day on, Deuce couldn’t stop thinking about you. Sure, you were responsible, smart, and reliable—but you were also fun, mischievous, and surprisingly laid-back. It was a combination that made his heart race. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to impress you more or just keep watching as you effortlessly balanced it all with that mischievous smirk.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was never the type to be easily impressed—especially by someone who didn’t follow the rules to the letter. But you? You were an exception. Not only were you the perfect role model, responsible and composed, but you somehow managed to bend the rules without ever really breaking them. It was infuriating.

The first time you caught his attention was when you strolled into the Heartslabyul rose garden, completely ignoring the chaos around you. Students were scurrying left and right, trying to meet the latest rule Riddle had imposed. But you? You sat down calmly with a book, unbothered by the hustle and bustle.

“What are you doing here?” Riddle asked, standing over you with his arms crossed. “Shouldn’t you be studying for the upcoming alchemy test?”

You looked up, your smile the picture of innocence. “I already finished studying. Plus, fresh air helps with brain function, doesn’t it?”

Riddle blinked, thrown off by your response. Technically, you weren’t breaking any rules. But something about your calm demeanor did break his sense of order.

The second time you caught his attention was during a dorm meeting when you lightly teased him about his obsession with rules. “Riddle, you ever consider relaxing? Maybe just once?”

He stared at you, utterly scandalized. “Relax? During an official dorm meeting?”

You just grinned. “Just saying. You’re going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Later that day, you upped the ante when you “accidentally” bumped into him and knocked a basket of strawberries onto the ground. Of course, you smiled sweetly, apologizing as you bent to pick them up, but then you slipped in a strawberry tart, decorated with red and white roses.

Riddle stared at it, completely baffled. “Did you—Did you paint roses on a tart?”

“Only the best for the Queen,” you replied with a wink, referencing the infamous Alice in Wonderland scene.

Riddle turned beet red, not from anger but because—against his will—he found it funny. He hated it. You were making him laugh, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Then, came the day you pushed him too far. You were teasing him, playfully challenging one of his many rules, and before you knew it—bam. Collar. You were collared.

But instead of being embarrassed or angry, you sauntered off and returned ten minutes later, holding up a plate of beautifully decorated rose-themed sweets. “Am I forgiven yet?”

Riddle stared at the plate, his face a mix of emotions. “You… can’t just—fine. But only because you followed the correct procedure for apology.”

What really sealed the deal was when you noticed how exhausted Riddle was after a long day. You didn’t say anything, but the next time he sat down, there was a cup of tea waiting for him—perfectly brewed. You didn’t even mention it, just went about your day as if it was no big deal. But for Riddle, it was a very big deal. You weren’t just smart and responsible—you were kind, mischievous, and somehow always knew exactly what he needed. And that terrified and intrigued him all at once.

Ace Trappola

Ace was always drawn to people who could keep up with his chaotic energy, and from the outside, you seemed like the last person who would. You were responsible, always got top marks, and never seemed to get in trouble like he did. You were a Pomefiore student through and through, the perfect picture of elegance and order. Or at least, that’s what Ace thought—until you proved him wrong in the most unexpected ways.

One afternoon, Ace was busy concocting his latest scheme—rigging a classroom window so that it would slam shut the moment someone opened it. Classic prank, a little outdated, but effective. Deuce stood beside him, nervously watching while Ace fiddled with the mechanism.

Just when Ace was about to finish, you appeared out of nowhere, your usual calm expression fixed on your face. “A window prank, Ace? Really?” you teased, looking unimpressed. “You’ve got to come up with something more original.”

Ace, expecting you to lecture him, leaned back with a smug grin. “What’s wrong? You too perfect to appreciate a good prank?”

But instead of walking away or scolding him, you walked over, inspected the rigging, and—with a sly grin—yanked one of the cords so that it was perfectly calibrated to snap the window shut just as someone walked by. “There. Now it’ll make a better sound when it slams shut.”

Ace blinked. “Wait—you’re actually helping me?”

You shrugged, your grin widening. “Might as well. You were doing it wrong anyway.”

And that was the moment Ace realized you weren’t just some stuck-up, model student. You were fun, and a lot sneakier than you let on.

It didn’t stop there. One day, the two of you were walking across campus when Ace noticed something strange. A lone broom was sitting outside of the library, left behind after flying class. You glanced at it, then at Ace, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. “I bet I can stand on it.”

Ace was taken aback. “You mean ride it?”

“No,” you smirked. “I mean stand on it.”

Before Ace could stop you, you were hopping onto the broom in your immaculate Pomefiore uniform, balancing on it like a circus performer. The broom wobbled as you grinned at Ace, one foot on the handle, your arms outstretched. “See? Easy.”

Ace gaped at you, half expecting you to fall off. “You know you’re going to break your neck, right? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one!”

“I’m responsible,” you said, hopping off the broom with a graceful landing. “I just know how to have fun.”

Ace didn’t know what to make of you. You weren’t just cool—you were insane in the best possible way. Who else would try to balance on a broom like it was a tightrope, in broad daylight, in front of the library? And still look like they had everything under control?

From then on, Ace couldn’t help but admire how you could be both the perfect student and completely unpredictable. One moment you’d be helping him with his homework, making sure he didn’t fail his classes, and the next, you’d be standing on a broom or rigging a prank right alongside him. You made the impossible look easy, and Ace was falling hard.

There was one day that really sealed the deal for him. After a long lecture, Ace was goofing off with Deuce, trying to sneak a piece of fruit out of the cafeteria without getting caught. You, being the mature one, walked up and raised an eyebrow. “Stealing now, are we?”

Ace snorted. “Come on, it’s just a piece of fruit. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Without missing a beat, you took the apple out of his hand, then tossed it over your shoulder—straight into the trash. “The worst thing is you could get caught.”

Ace stared at you in disbelief, then burst out laughing. You were sharp, clever, and always a step ahead of him. And it wasn’t long before he realized that maybe, just maybe, you were the one pranking him the entire time—by being so ridiculously cool without even trying.

Epel Felmier

Epel admired you from the moment you stepped into Pomefiore. You were the perfect model student—always well-behaved, top of your class, and you embodied the elegance Vil demanded. But what made Epel really start paying attention was that you weren’t just some delicate, rule-following Pomefiore statue. You were responsible, sure, but there was a wild side to you that came out in the most unexpected ways.

Take that time during broom riding practice, for example. Epel had seen you fly gracefully like it was second nature, while he was busy trying to not look like a complete disaster on his broom. Then, out of nowhere, you decided to take things to a whole new level. The instructor wasn’t paying attention, so you zoomed ahead of everyone, grinning like a maniac.

Epel watched in awe as you performed a perfect loop-de-loop before swooping down so fast you nearly gave Vil a heart attack. And, of course, you landed as if nothing happened, straightening your uniform and looking as poised as ever.

“Y-You can do tricks like that?” Epel asked, mouth agape.

You shrugged, brushing off the dust from your shoes. “It’s just flying. Gotta make it fun somehow.”

Epel couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

That day, Epel realized you were someone who could balance responsibility with freedom. He had always struggled with the restrictions of Pomefiore’s rigid beauty standards, but you managed to be both elegant and daring. It was like watching someone walk a tightrope with ease, and he was more than a little impressed.

But the thing that really cemented his admiration for you happened after one particularly intense Pomefiore training session. Vil had them all practicing their etiquette, posture, and poise, and Epel was on the verge of snapping. He wasn’t built for all this fancy stuff—he just wanted to be himself, rough edges and all.

After the session ended, you found Epel sulking by the fountain, muttering curses under his breath about how “ridiculous” all this refinement was.

“Need a break from all the beauty drills?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

Epel sighed, frustrated. “I just don’t get it. Why do we have to be so… proper all the time? Ain’t no one back home cared about sittin’ all pretty.”

You nodded, understanding. “I get it. Sometimes all this elegance stuff can be stifling.”

Epel looked at you in surprise. “You? I thought you were like… the perfect student. You never seem bothered by it.”

You chuckled softly. “That’s ‘cause I’ve learned how to balance it out. You gotta know when to let loose. Speaking of which…”

Without another word, you stood up, pulled your shoes off, and started wading into the fountain like it was the most natural thing in the world. Epel stared at you in disbelief.

“What in tarnation are you doin’?” he asked, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Cooling off,” you replied with a mischievous grin. “C’mon, you’ll feel better.”

Epel hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and kicked off his shoes, joining you in the fountain. You both splashed around, laughing like kids, completely disregarding the stares from the other Pomefiore students passing by. It was the most fun he’d had in weeks, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re crazy, y’know that?” Epel laughed, wiping water from his face.

“Maybe,” you replied with a wink. “But sometimes, a little crazy is exactly what we need.”

From that day on, Epel saw you as more than just a perfect role model. You were someone who understood the pressure of perfection but also knew how to break free from it when necessary. And the fact that you didn’t mind getting a little reckless now and then? Well, that just made him like you even more.

Later, as the two of you dried off by the fountain, Epel found himself smiling—really smiling—for the first time in a while. You weren’t just cool; you were fearless, and that was something he admired more than anything.

Masterlist

173 notes · View notes

stargirllanaa · 9 months ago

Text

୨⎯ “I don’t smoke”- R.C

❥ Masterlist

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, Abusive relationship, Domestic violence, heavy drinking, violence, mentions of drugs, mentions past d/v, Rafe’s a narcissist, emotional abuse

Summary: based on ‘I don’t smoke’ by Mitski (you don’t have to listen to understand but I still recommend. You drink to much and everything goes so wrong.

A/n ✎: surpriseeee, I was taking a break but got randomly motivated lol, thank you for 300 followers!!! Ily all sm! My inbox is open btw, also pls reblog and comment if you enojoyed!! Also I recommend listening to the song while reading!! Tyy

Wc: 2.8k

18+ minors dni!!!

As you took a long drag of your cigarette, you thought about your night, how you ended up on the balcony of the Cameron house with a tear-stained face and a cigarette in hand.

You never smoked except for after you and your boyfriend got into it; nicotine’s supposed to relieve stress and calm the nerves, right? I mean, you weren't addicted, just a stress relief.

It made you laugh how almost every fight with your boyfriend was so stupid, usually a misunderstanding or him taking out his anger for something that had nothing to do with you.

You questioned why you always stayed with him; how could you be so in love with someone who mistreated you?

You laughed to yourself, taking another drag of your cig before inhaling, the warm breeze making contact with your slightly damp face, reminding you of why you were even out here; the sad realization brought fresh tears to your eyes, and before you knew it you were bawling again, sitting on the ground, knees brought to your chest, sobbing into your lap.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ Earlier that night୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡

You and Rafe had ended up at a random party, some kook that Rafe knew from high school. Believe it or not, you enjoyed going to parties with Rafe. There was always an excuse to get as drunk and high as possible, and if you were faded enough, your thoughts would stop, and you finally felt at peace. It was honestly sad, but being in a relationship with Rafe, it was so hard to feel ok… to feel normal.

You guys had been at the party for about an hour, and you were already crossed, taking every drink offered to you in a heartbeat and even smoking with your boyfriend and his friends, but you could still feel, and you didn't like that, so you stumbled over to the drinks table, praying that there was at least enough left for a shot. Your vision was already spinning, and you were practically tripping over yourself, but you just wanted the pain in your heart to stop; that's it.

After what felt like a lifetime pushing through people and saying, ‘Excuse me,’ you finally made it. You reached for a bottle but didn't even read what it was; you were just desperate for anything. Your gut told you to stop drinking; you were nauseous, dizzy, felt heavy, and could barely walk straight, but your heart told you to keep going, so you did.

You poured yourself a shot, shaky, uncoordinated hands spilling a good amount on your fingers and the table. You drank the alcohol, tossing your head back as the bitter liquid made contact with your tongue before slightly burning the back of your throat. Your face scrunched up, looking around for a chaser but unable to find one.

As you stumbled around looking for your boyfriend, you bumped into at least five people, even causing one girl to spill her drink on herself; everything felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and the world was spinning; you hated, but you loved this feeling, you were numb to your problems but also felt sick.

When you made eye contact with your boyfriend, he was sitting on the couch; you could barely make out the color of the sofa or who else was even on it; that's how fucked up you were.

You sat down next to him before even realizing what you were doing. You practically fell into him; before you knew it, you were lying on his shoulder and falling asleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

“Y/n!” you heard your boyfriend's voice echoing through your head before even opening your eyes; you kept them closed. You were still tired and wanted at least five more minutes of sleep.

“She's knocked out, man.” you heard another man who wasn't your boyfriend say, most likely one of his friends.

“Y/n!” Rafe shouted, now shaking you awake.

You were genuinely confused when you opened your eyes—three blurry figures standing before you. When your vision evened out, you saw Your boyfriend was staring at you with his fist clenched to the side, clearly angry, as his two friends stood beside him, but you were laying on Rafe, at least you thought you were, but when you lifted your head and looked to your side to see who you were laying on, it was some random guy.

You immediately jumped, scooting yourself away from the random blonde. You had never seen this man before, and when you layed next to him, you could have sworn he was your boyfriend.

You quickly stood up, still tired and still drunk. Your heart was beating rapidly, and the look on Rafe's face didn't help; he was arguing with the man you had been lying on; you heard the name ‘Evan’ slip from his mouth.

"What's your problem, man?" Evan questioned, his tone challenging; he kept his spot on the couch as you hid behind your boyfriend and his friends, still able to get a clear view of the altercation.

“I've seen the way you've looked at her before.” Your boyfriend drunkenly spat, referring to you; he talked with his hands aggressively. That was a bad sign, and it worried you; you just wanted to explain to him this was all an accident, a drunken mistake.

“Listen, man; Your girl was all over me.”

Evan replied, words laced with venom as he stood up from his spot on the couch.”Maybe control your bitch next time-”

Without another word, Rafe lunged forward, his fist connecting with Evan's jaw.

The force of the blow sent Evan stumbling backward, crashing into a nearby table, sending drinks flying in all directions, causing everybody around to stop and look.

Evan recovered quickly, launching himself at Rafe.

The two boys wrestled with each other; trading blows amidst the chaos of the party; a crowd formed around them as phones were being taken out to record.

You were horrified, wide eyes watching as Rafe pushed the other blonde to the floor before punching him repeatedly. You knew this was your fault, and you felt horrible. How could you have made such a big mistake?

Your tears spilled, and your hand covered your mouth as you watched Rafe's friend's topper and Kelce pull him away from the kook on the floor, finally separating them. Rafe looked so angry. He was breathing heavily, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, but when you looked at the bloody blonde on the floor, you gasped. You regretted even looking at him; blood covered his face as he rolled over slightly, coughing more blood up; you even heard someone mutter, “Call 911.”

When Rafe's friends finally let go of him, he didn't go back for more; he honestly seemed satisfied, and when he grabbed your wrist roughly, pulling you away from the now-dead party and to his truck, clearly trying to avoid the police you were honestly shocked, You had never witnessed rafe hurt someone that bad, I mean he was going crazy, you couldn’t get the image of Evans blood covered face out of your head. And the more you thought about it, the more grateful you were that Rafe had never caused that much harm to you. I mean, sometimes he would slap, chock, or grab you, but he had just shown you how much he was genuinely holding back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

You had finally arrived at Tanneyhill after what felt like hours of complete silence as Rafe dropped his friends off. He refused to talk to you, ignoring you as you tried to explain to him that it was an accident and that you were just really fucked up. You were still drunk, not as drunk as you were when you originally made the mistake, but drunk enough to keep trying to talk to Rafe.

The thing was that you would rather argue with Rafe than be ignored; you hated when he punished you with the silent treatment; it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, and you also didn't know how long he would keep this going, sometimes it was days, sometimes it was hours, you would much rather him just hit you and get it over with.

“Why would you even bring me here if you're going to ignore me?” You questioned Rafe, voices pleading for a response as you found your place on his bed.

He didn't even look up at you; instead, he rolled his eyes as he focused on his phone, scrolling through whatever social media app he was on.

“Are you fucking serious?” You recklessly said as tears started to brim your eyes; his breathing halted for a moment at that. “I said it was an accident! What the fuck do you want me to do?” You choked out, throwing your hands up.

Rafe continued to ignore you, slightly laughing at something on his phone; he wanted you to feel as guilty as possible, and he knew making you sit in silence and think about what you did would be the best way to achieve that, so he had to be strong. He wanted so badly to respond and put you in your place, but he also knew you would prefer that to this.

“Rafe!” you shouted, wanting so desperately to be heard, but you got no response, not even a look in your direction.

“RAFE!” You repeated even louder this time, but still, he kept eye contact with his phone and ignored you; it made you so angry and sad, so many emotions you didn't want to feel. This was the fucking worst.

“I fucking can't.” You cried, tears blurring your vision as you left Rafe's room, slamming the door behind you as you made your way to the balcony. You grabbed your chest, trying to slow your fast and deep breathing, but you couldn't. Rafe was treating you like shit, and it was so frustrating.

The blonde didn't stop you from leaving his room; he knew your little routine and that you would return to his bed in at least ten minutes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆

The following day, you woke up to muffled yelling from outside Rafe's bedroom door; you didn't even remember falling asleep or returning to his room last night; your last memory was bawling on the balcony as the smell of your cigarette filled your nose.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, noticing the pounding sensation throughout your head. You drank way too much last night, you thought to yourself before being brought back to reality by the muffled voices behind the door. Their voices were tense, filled with bitterness, and you couldn't help but feel a twitch of worry knotting in your stomach.

You glanced around the room, searching for clues or signs of what might have sparked the disagreement, but it was nothing new for Rafe to get into it with literally anyone.

The morning light filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your familiar surroundings, but your attention remained fixed on the heated exchange just beyond the door. But before you could even form another thought, Rafe's bedroom door swung open and slammed closed behind him as he breathed in and out fast and placed his hands on his head.

You exited his bed, swinging your feet out from under his blankets before standing up and walking over to him. You just wanted to comfort him and try to make him feel better. Even though you and Rafe didn't necessarily get along all the time, he's still your boyfriend, and you didn't enjoy seeing someone you love so upset.

“Rafe.” you calmly mumbled, touching his back. “Calm down,” you said, rubbing it. You could tell he was still distraught by how he was breathing.

His breath was rapid, his jaw clenched, and his first balled to his side.

“Take some deep breaths.” you calmly mutter, still trying to calm him down, but you knew you had triggered something in him when you saw the way he turned to you, eyes narrowed and dark; you didn't understand why what you said upset him, but you knew that all his anger would now be directed towards you.

“Calm down?” Rafe repeated, tone harsh and aggressive. “Deep breaths?” he hissed, taking a step closer to you as you took one back.

“Do you hear yourself?” The kook tapped on his temples as he stared you down, jaw clenched as he leaned on his dresser.

“You sound just like Sarah.” he tisked as he crossed his arms.

You didn't know what to say, but at this point, you were on the other side of the room; you knew you were playing a dangerous game, even being in the same room as Rafe when he got like this.

“Well, what do you want me to do, Rafe? I-” You looked down before being cut off by the sound of glass hitting the floor after your boyfriend knocked over serval objects that were sitting on top of his dresser in one clean sweep.

You flinched, closing your eyes as the abrupt noise of objects breaking filled your ears. You were grateful he took his anger out on his random trinkets rather than you, but you couldn’t stop your breath from speeding up as you held your chest, trying to lower your anxiety.

“I want you to be fucking quiet for once.” Rafe fumed angrily, now stalking towards you. “I want you to stop getting shitfaced just to embarrass me.” he spat, referring to last night.

As he stalked towards you, you made a run for it, successfully reaching the other side of the room, but this pissed him off even more you could see the way his jaw clenched even from where you were standing.

“Yeah, because the whole world revolves around Rafe!” you sarcastically nodded with a fake smile. He was fucking delusional if he thought you would purposely get drunk just to fall asleep on another man and embarrass him.

He rolled his eyes in response, jaw ticking again.

“I'm at least happy you got your anger out on someone other than me last ni-” Your words were cut off by empty glass being thrown directly at your face; luckily, you dodged it, falling to the floor and covering your head immediately.

Thankfully, the glass was thick enough that it didn’t break. What the fuck. If that would have hit your face, Rafe could have fucking killed you. You didn't know how you went from trying to comfort your boyfriend to almost being killed by him so fast. He was so unpredictable it was scary, and since you were so lost in thought, you didn't realize he was now right in front of you.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned, voice now calm… scarily calm as he kneeled in front of you, brushing a hand over your hair.

You didn't respond; you were shaking and now crying. You were too terrified to even look up at him, too scared of what was coming next.

“Look at me.” Rafe sneered before tightening his once soft grip on your hair and using it to pull your head back and make eye contact.

You groaned at the feeling, more tears falling from your face as the pain intensified every second. You regretted even trying to make him feel better in the first place. Fuck, you regretted even meeting him.

“You know why I hurt you, don't you?” Rafe questioned again. This time, his voice was harsher, and his eyes grew darker the longer you didn't respond, but you didn't care you weren't answering that stupid fucking question; Rafe had no excuse to hurt you no matter what you did, and you weren't about to validate his reasoning.

“This is exactly why.” Rafe scolded, grabbing more hair as his grip tightened further. You screamed out in pain, but he quickly covered your mouth with his other hand as he continued. “You’re disrespectful.” he critiqued as he spoke through his teeth.

You were sobbing into his hand, tears soaking his fingers as he looked down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. Rafe wanted to hurt you; Your boyfriend wanted you to feel exactly how he did when he entered his room in the first place.

“You’re kinda pathetic, you know.” Rafe looked you up and down, grip still tight on your hair.

“You're already crying, and I barely even touched you yet.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!

Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘bad liar’

761 notes · View notes

brotherwtf · 2 months ago

Text

some age gap clegan bcs I'm honest to god going feral

(btw thanks to all of the people who wanted to see this, boosted my confidence a lot)

Gale first meets John when he turned 19, was introduced to the 38 year old Major when he was with his mother for dinner, all smooth smiles and friendly pats on the back when he had crowed at the sight of her.

"Your mama and I, we go way back. Would pick on me all the time during grade school, shocked to see you this far north," John had said, and Gale tries to ignore the way the timbre of his voice dislodges something deep in his stomach.

It was the first time his mother had smiled, genuinely, in a long time, and Gale couldn't help but feel that same joy at the way John smiles gently at him.

About a week later, Gale was beaten by his father with his mother watching, beaten until he had bruises and red welts over his arms and face. His mother had apologized profusely, promising Gale that something was going to get done, she was going to get help for them.

In the following days, John would come to the house every morning after Gale's mother left for work and take him to his classes at the university, or wherever Gale wanted to go.

"Your mama told me to look after you," John had said.

"I don't need looking after, I'm grown," Gale retorted, but couldn't help the way his stomach flipped every time John showed up at his door.

John took him everywhere he wanted, to museums and art exhibits and walks along the river, took him to a baseball game to explain the rules to him and force him to have some fun.

He would always appear looking dashing, if he wasn't in his uniform he was in perfectly pressed pants and a button up shirt, jacket slung from his fingers over his shoulder, and Gale actually started to look forward to their outings together.

Gale's father was often too hungover or still sleeping by the time John would come to pick Gale up, but one morning he was awake with the sun and saw Gale's bright smile when John's car rolled into their driveway. He slapped Gale, gripped his hair between his hands and called him a queer, called him all sorts of names for being excited to see a man come get him. Gale tried to push his father off of him, yelling at him to stop and trying his best not to cry.

John burst into the house, already had a key given to him by Gale's mother, and wrenched Gale's father off of him, punching him until he was bloody and unconscious. Gale begged for John to stop, grabbed his shoulders and pulled John off of his father's body, finally breaking down when John holds him gently and asks if he was okay

John takes him back to his place, a modest house for a man who lived alone and forces him to sit on the couch, allowing Gale to sob into his strong arms until he can only sniffle and whimper. Gale can't bring himself to let go of John, something big and strong and steady, and finds himself adjusting until his knees straddle John's hips, shoving his face into John's shoulder

John's hands are tense around him, not expecting the horribly intimate position Gale has put them in, arms still wrapped safely around Gale's shoulders. When Gale pulls away, he looks down at John with something akin to hunger.

"Wanna kiss you, John," Gale whispers and watches John's throat work as he swallows.

John shakes his head, taking his hands from Gale's shoulders and gently pushing him away.

"We can't Gale, you're too young," John tries to plead.

Gale would only whine, nudging his face closer to John's despite him trying to move away, still trying to put a valiant effort into keeping the space between them.

"I'm 19, I know what I want, and I want you, John," Gale whispers, moving his hands from John's shoulders to gently massage through his hair.

It's still so new to Gale, he had only just realized his deep rooted feelings for John when he had confronted Gale's father, and didn't know how he would survive without him. Even the way John's looking up at him with a wary expression is making Gale's stomach flip.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," John asks, daringly moving his hands from their defensive position on Gale's shoulder to gently rest just above Gale's thighs.

The contact makes Gale shiver and he nods, leaning in ever closer so that their noses brush together.

"I want it, please kiss me, John," Gale whispers.

It feels like his world explodes when John tentatively closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together sweetly. Gale wants so desperately for John to go further, to open up his mouth and claim him as his, wants so desperately to be John's. He whimpers meekly against John's lips and it's a silent beg for John to go further, be rougher.

John does so perfectly, opens Gale's mouth with his tongue and gently allows himself to explore the space, taking in all of Gale's sighed whimpers or groans in the back of his throat.

Gale never had much experience with kissing, had gently kissed his high school girlfriends lips and had gotten so flushed afterwards he could barely look at her. If he could see what Gale was doing now, he would faint. John has his hands on Gale's waist, so large that his fingertips almost touch on Gale's lower back, holding Gale in place as he devours his lips.

John pulls away from Gale's lips and sighs, pressing their foreheads together and rubbing a gentle thumb on Gale's waist.

"I'm gonna protect you, Gale, no one's gonna hurt you while I'm still swinging," John whispers, lips ticking up in the slightest.

Gale laughs a little wetly, pressing their faces closer together so he can feel the stubble of John's mustache on his lip.

Eventually, Gale convinced his mother that he was going to stay with John, keeping the fact that he and John were far more than friends to himself until he was out of his family's grasp. He felt terrible for leaving her behind with his father, but she gushed with joy when she knew her son was going to be safe. She thanked John profusely for taking care of Gale, kissing him on the cheek and sobbing into a tight hug from Gale.

It takes some adjusting for Gale to get used to living with John, but he had spent so long under his care that it felt like second nature, almost.

some smut for these guys coming down the pipeline soon if y'all want to see it

#mota #clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #age gap au

170 notes · View notes

worldlxvlys · 10 months ago

Note

can u make a fic a lot like this cola but instead of the reader using their safe word they just take it. i love love love your writing btw!! 💗

dress

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: whewwww chile smut (don’t read if you don’t like), oral (fem receiving), semi-public sex, squirting, p in v

a/n: ok so this is based off of these texts, you can read if you want :)

this is the fic anon is referring to: cola

hope you enjoy <333

(reader texts= italics , chris texts= bold)

what would you do if i popped a tit?

what.

maybe i should give this guy next to me a peek

chris stood across the room, eyes on his phone. when he looked up, i glared at him, taking a hand off of my phone to toy with the strap of my dress.

stop.

maybe i should pull my dress up a little.

since, according to you, my ass is practically hanging out.

whats the difference anyway?

i moved my hand to my thigh, pushing my dress up slightly.

this shit isn’t funny.

i continued to glare at him from my seat on the barstool.

i’m not laughing.

i’m serious.

look at me.

he looked up from his phone for a brief moment. i titled my head at him, willing him to keep testing me.

does it look like i’m joking?

maybe i should spread my legs for him.

ask him to help me out.

as soon as he received that message, his head snapped up.

i moved my legs apart slightly, not enough to show anything, but enough to get the message across.

his jaw clenched.

you need to stop.

stop staring and do something about it then.

i raised my eyebrows at him, daring him to do something.

you asked for it ma.

by the time i finished reading his message and picking my head up, chris was already taking long strides towards me.

before i even realized what was happening, he had grabbed my arm and pulled me to the nearest empty hallway.

he pushed my hip against the wall, bringing his face so close to mine that ours noses bumped into each others.

“are you seriously that fucking desperate?” he asked, looking back and forth between my eyes.

“pop a tit.” he said.

my eyes widened, jaw falling open.

“what?” i asked, looking at him as though he was crazy.

“pop. a fucking. tit.” he growled at me.

“chris, anyone could walk by”

“you had no problems doing it for that random dude, let’s go pretty girl” i just blinked at him.

“unless you want me to bring you back to him. do you need an audience, princess?” he asked condescendingly.

without another word, i brought my hand up to the same strap i was playing with earlier, now pulling it down.

he didn’t waist a second in moving the fabric of the dress down, just below my tit.

he gave it a lick and blew on it, the cool air making it harden.

“better be quiet baby, the echoes in this hall travel pretty far” he said before pushing his face into my chest, licking and sucking on my nipple.

i gasped, trying to suppress the moans as his hands traveled to my thighs.

he pulled my dress up, revealing my thong.

“i was right, barely covered” he smirked at me.

my thong didn’t do a great job of collecting my wetness, as it was dripping down my leg.

“so fucking wet, baby. remind me again, who’s all this for?” he asked.

“you, chris”

“you sure ? what about that guy out there? you sure it’s not for him ?”

“no, chris, no it’s not. all for you, baby”

he tilted his head at me, mimicking my earlier actions.

“hmm, i guess we’ll see about that” he said as he moved my thong to the side, pushing a finger in me.

“fuck, chris” i sighed out, shakily. i held onto his shoulders as he continued to thrust his finger into me.

“you seemed pretty confident a little earlier on, what happened baby?” he asked cockily.

i felt my stomach start to tighten.

“you’re so fucking dirty. you like the thought of someone walking by, don’t you?”

he slapped my ass. “i asked you a fucking question”

“yes, yes, fuck chris. i love it” i moaned out.

“better learn to keep that volume down, baby. that mouth of yours is gonna get us in trouble” he said as he got down on his knees.

he looked at me expectantly.

“well? you said you were gonna spread those legs ma. open up” he said.

i obliged, moving my legs apart. he wasted no time in wrapping his legs around my thighs.

he licked my thigh, cleaning up my wetness before licking a stripe up my pussy.

my hips bucked up into his mouth.

“fuck chris” i moaned out, not caring about how loud i was.

he pushed my hips back into the wall, continuing to lap at my pussy.

“you wanted to tease me? let’s see how you like it” he took the thin strip of fabric that covered my pussy, moving it from side to side against my folds.

“fuck! chris, don’t tease” i whined out, needing more.

“i can’t tell you what to do, right? same rules apply with me” he said as he continued to play with the fabric of the cheeky underwear.

he pushed the fabric down, making it dig into my clit.

“oh my godddd” i whimpered, my head falling back into the wall behind me.

suddenly, he pushed his face into my pussy, fucking his tongue into me.

“ SHIT, CHRIS” i yelled, my hand weaving into his hair, gripping with all of my might.

he moaned into me, the vibrations adding to my pleasure.

he looked up at me, his gaze unfaltering and intense.

the piercing glare of his eyes coupled with the feeling of his hot tongue moving against my wet walls caused me to finish all over his face.

“shit chris” i sighed out, breathing heavily.

he pulled away from my pussy after licking my juices up.

he pushed me against the wall, again, pushing his hard dick against my thigh.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, ma. you gonna help me?” he asked, peppering my neck with kisses.

i nodded my head, too fucked out to realize he couldn’t even see me.

his kisses moved to my tits, starting to leave marks.

as he continued to mark me up, i reached down to his clothed cock, palming him.

“mmm, fuck” he mumbled into my skin.

i undid his zipper, reaching under the waistband of his boxers to stroke his member.

“shit, baby. love having your hand wrapped around me, feels so fucking good”

i pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to free his throbbing cock.

without a word, he slid his dick through my folds, never actually pushing it in.

“fuck, chris” i moaned out, placing my head on his shoulder.

he pulled my thong down and placed his tip directly on my clit, rubbing himself on the bundle of nerves.

“c-chris, i-FUCK” i yelled out, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.

it wasn’t much longer before i came, embarrassingly fast, against him.

“that was pretty fast, baby. you must really like my dick”

“shut up” i said, without thinking.

he didn’t utter a word before lining up slamming into me.

“holy fuck! chris !” he hooked one of my legs around his waist, thrusting into me deeply.

“chris chris chris” i whined.

“so tight, ma. feel so good wrapped around me”

he continued to fuck me against the wall, watching the way my titties bounced with each snap of his hips.

“chris! chris! i’m gonna cum!” i barely even finished before my hips snapped up, and my cum coated his cock.

he groaned at the feeling of me dripping down his length, and continued to fuck me like there was no tomorrow.

“c-chris, i’m so sensitive “

“you know your safe word” he grunted out, continuing to pound into me.

he grabbed my ass, hoisting me up and continuing to fuck me into the wall.

the new angle allowed him to hit my g-spot, immediately sending me over the edge.

“oh- CHRIS” i yelled.

“i know, baby. i’m close” he moaned, rubbing my clit.

“fuck, chris” my hips started to twitch, my nails digging into his shoulders.

i clenched around him, pushing him to his orgasm as he filled me up.

“fuck chris” i moaned as the feeling of his cum in me triggered another orgasm.

he pulled himself out of me, watching our cum drip out.

“hmm, looks like i gotta clean you up” he said, barely giving me time to process his words before he was on his knees again.

he dove into my pussy, running his tongue through my folds.

“god, chris” i whined, my body still twitching from the aftershocks.

“taste so good, ma. could eat you all fucking day” he spoke into me, making me moan. he moved his tongue against me in every direction possible, shaking his head from left to right.

he slurped and sucked, entranced by the way my body reacted to him.

my moans and whimpers continued to fuel him on, even when he pulled another orgasm out of me.

“chrisssss. fuck, fuck, fuck” my voice was hoarse from all the yelling i was doing.

he worked me through my orgasm and continued on, rubbing my clit in circular motions.

“chris! j- slow down, fuck!” i yelled, almost squealing at this point.

his tongue never stopped, pushing me closer and closer to finishing.

i couldn’t keep the upper half of my body still, twitching and squirming as my eyes screwed shut.

my head fell forward, jaw hanging open as my vision began to blur from tears.

i couldn’t even make noise anymore.

he pulled one orgasm after another from me, the timing so close together that they faded into each other.

my hips shot forward, my juices shooting out of me before my body went limp.

chris removed his mouth and hand from me, kissing me on the cheek.

“did so good for me, baby” he whispered.

“sorry, but if you thought that would encourage me not to wear this dress again, you’re dead wrong”

——————

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @mommysturns @defnotayonna

617 notes · View notes

appleblueberry-pie · 10 months ago

Note

yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽

[Come back home to me.]

You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.

"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.

There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."

Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.

You're not telling him yes.

Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.

The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".

"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.

His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"

The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.

He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?

It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.

Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.

Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.

"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.

You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."

And everyone dispersed.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.

Immediately, you began your journey to his place.

His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."

He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.

"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.

You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.

"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.

"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."

He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.

"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"

You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.

You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"

"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.

"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.

It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."

"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"

He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"

You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."

Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere character #reader #across the spiderverse #itsv #atsv #yandere atsv #yandere atsv x reader #yandere 42 miles x reader #yandere 42 miles #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #yandere miles x reader #yandere miles morales x reader #yandere miles morales #miles morales imagine

561 notes · View notes