Tumgik
#I've wanted to be a doctor ever since I could remember
Text
Just Like Glass
CW: slight body horror (disfigurement/amputation)
(This is also quite a long post, so bear that in mind)
.
.
.
.
Notes: THIS IS MY FIRST WRITTEN THING EVER I HAVE NO EXPERIENCE WITH WRITING - This is somewhat based of Land Of The Lustrous/Houseki No Kuni because I have been SO hyperfixated on that, and also inspired by this image that I have found on Pinterest:
Tumblr media
If you know who originally made this picture please let me know Ok back to the fanfic-
------------------------------------------------
It'd been a while since Glass Joe would get to fight against another boxer, having been injured pretty badly in his previous fight against Bald Bull. The Turkish boxer had managed to do quite a number on him, so much so that the Frenchman's personal doctor was worried some damage would be more permanent than the usual brain damage or broken ribs. Luckily, Great Tiger offered to help, to speed up the healing process if it meant Glass Joe could get another turn in the ring faster. How kind of him. Now Glass Joe's in high spirits, not just because he's not in pain from his former injuries. The Administrator has just informed him that his next fight is only tomorrow, and it's against Disco Kid of all boxers. The happy-go-lucky boxer from Brooklyn is the only other fighter with a negative win-to-loss ratio, so Glass Joe was hoping he'd be able to snag another win from this next fight. It won't fix the ninety-nine losses, but he figured he had to start small to work his way up.
"I'm telling you, mon vieux, I'll be able to improve my win to loss ratio eventually!" The Frenchman exclaimed, explaining his plan to Von Kaiser as the two walk down the hall. "I may never make it a positive one, of course, but it'll be better than just one!"
Von Kaiser could visibly see the pep in Glass Joe's step, as he stomps next to him in his usual stiff and tense walk. "...I must say, Mein Freund, I admire your dedication. You've been doing this for... how long now?" "Hmm... around twenty years, if I'm not mistaken." "Really now?" Von Kaiser paused, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he attempted to do the maths in his head. "...I've been here around twenty-two years. I will admit, I'm surprised time has flown by so quickly." "It really is a wonder, non?" The Frenchman remarked, as the two finally make it to the WVBA's lobby. "Perhaps we can reminisce over a lovely coffee and croissant from the local café? My treat, mon amour!" This is met with a stern sigh and weary chuckle from the German boxer, Von Kaiser moving one of his hands out from behind his back to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You always find a way to twist my hand into taking you to that café, don't you?" He scoffs, though his tone is more of a joke than an actual show of annoyance. "...Fine. Let's go."
Luckily, the weather is perfect for a small walk to the cafe - The sun is bright, the clouds adorn the sky in many odd shapes, and there isn't a drop of rain in sight. The two older boxers walk out of the lobby to the WVBA, Von Kaiser reaching for the stairs' railing and holding onto it with one hand tightly. "Remember to actually use the handrails, Joe." He speaks up sternly, glancing back at the Frenchman as he begins to descend the concrete stairs. "I don't want you undoing the work Great Tiger has done to heal you." "Oui, oui, I know..." Came the dejected reply, as Glass Joe reaches for the handrail and begins using it to get down the stairs as well. "...It feels like you tell me to use the handrails every time- wuh-woah!" Of course, Joe being clumsy ol' Joe, he somehow manages to lose his footing, missing a step and grabbing onto the handrail to catch himself. The sharp sound of glass breaking cuts through the air, stunning Von Kaiser into silence for a moment. Glass Joe can see Von Kaiser tense up from the sudden noise, the German boxer's grip on the handrail nearly denting the metal pole as Von Kaiser attempts to calm himself down. Once he recovers enough to begin breathing normally again, he sighs with a disgruntled scoff as he glances back at Glass Joe. "D-Did you somehow manage to break your little compact mirror again?" "...Non, it wouldn't have been that loud.. Maybe Aran broke one of the windows back inside." "But the noise came from here." "...You're right, maybe-" Glass Joe begins to talk, but the second he stops looking around for the source of the noise, and looks down at his foot, the one that missed the step, he goes silent. His foot has somehow shattered into pieces, the translucent, glass-like shards reflecting the sunlight as they lay on the stairs. The impact has reduced Glass Joe's right foot to nothing but a jagged stump, the two men staring down in horror at the gemstone-like shards now scattered across the ground. "M-Mon dieu.." "..Oh mein gott."
29 notes · View notes
peaceblank · 1 year
Text
The med school primary application asking if my work and activities are meaningful, like by simply going out of my way to do anything doesn’t have some kind of impact on my life.
9 notes · View notes
yuumei-art · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Unreachable
Wandering mind, full of creation
Meandering lines, lost in elation 
Each stroke, I broke a little inside
Each fate, I hate. My will defied
I painted this in Feb 2022 about what it's like to be an artist with repetitive strain injury. In 2008, When I was 18, I made my first comic titled 1000 Words, it was about an artist helping a little girl with a broken family similar to my own. It received such positive feedback that I changed my Environmental Science major at UCBerkeley to Art major. Ever since then, my goal has been to tell stories with my art. Stories that are important to me. My next comic, Knite, was about a boy who wants to put the stars back into the polluted skies of China, my homeland. The comic after that, Fisheye Placebo, is a cyberpunk story about living in the age of technology, about fighting censorship and propaganda.
Unfortunately, I never got to finish Knite nor Fisheye Placebo. By the time I was 24, I was drawing day and night with no regards to my health. Not only did I get repetitive strain injury in my drawing hand, but my entire health suffered. My roommates had to rush me to the ER after fainting one night. I remember looking at my swollen right hand, my fingers like sausages, not even able to hold a pen, and just cry.
I've gone to the doctors and physical therapists. One told me I have Lupus (I do not), and another told me to put ice on it. More recently, I met a friend who happens to an amazing physical therapist and he was able to help me regain a lot of use of my hand. At my worst, I could only draw an hour a week, but now I am able to draw 2 hours a day. My hand is unlikely to fully heal, but I'm so grateful to regain what I have.
To my fellow artists who suffers the same, please know you're not alone. I can't promise that it'll get better, and it's cliche to say don't give up, but I want to keep hoping that no matter what the world throws at us, we will continue to make art.
10K notes · View notes
legandairy-horror · 2 months
Text
Does anyone else feel a strange sort of dread waiting for new deltarune chapters?
It sounds crazy right? I admit it's a weird feeling for sure, and I'm not even 100% sure if dread is the right way to describe it. But as more info is revealed and the next chapter inevitably gets closer and closer to releasing I can't help but feel a strange sort of, melancholy? Longing? The only way I can describe it is "when you know the goodbye is coming". The strange somber feeling when you know you’re going to have to leave stuff behind, but aren't quite ready for it yet.
warning: words. Homestuck
In 3 months Chapter 1 will be 6 years old, and in 2 months Chapter 2 will be 3 years old. Deltarune is ostensibly in Early Access but this release schedule puts new chapters closer in time scale to whole sequals if anything, which they most assuredly are not trying to be. This has created a strange situation in the fanbase that I don't think I've ever truly seen anywhere else. One where, In the time between chapters It feels like everyone has had their own chance to decide what Deltarune is to them. To create their own version of this story, to write their own themes that they want to see explored, to imagine their own events and plot twists they want to see play out.
@lynxgriffin Paper Trail Comic Being an Alternate Story following off of chapter 1
@lilybug-02 The Chara Timeline Being one of many interpretations on the popular Asriel & Chara roommates headcannon.
@huecycles Andromeda Chapters being their interpretation on the full game
The innumerable Deltarune Theorists and analysts like HalfBreadChaos, Andrew Cunningham, Stuffed Alpaca, etc. etc.
@vyletbunni Deltatraveler being a whole ass fangame based around a chapter 2 meme that it has long since outlived
And that's kinda the thing isn't it? Once more deltarune comes out, a ton of these projects will just become outdated, it's an inevitability. So what will happen to them? will they become forgotten? maybe, maybe not, it's impossible to tell. but either way it feels kinda sad to think about yknow? that one day all the time and effort spent and all the memories made might one day just cease to exist.
There's a lot more I could say on this topic if given the chance but to keep this tumblr post from morphing into a 2 hour long video essay in text form let me leave off with this.
In the age of the internet and social media there will always be a fan of something. Nothing truly dies quite like it used to anymore, regardless of whatever influencers want you to believe. But that doesn't mean things stop changing, that there wasn't a past that has since been left behind. I'm a Homestuck fan. more specifically I'm a Late Homestuck fan, one who came in after the comic had already ended and it's peak in popularity was long behind it. The fandom's still around all these years later. But it'd be foolish to admit that, 8 years after the comics controversial end, the inescapable trend of new fans replacing old fans has left the fandom wholly disconnected from the monolith that it once was. the only remnants of which lie in decades old discourse and fanfiction. Like old relics of a long forgotten city, waiting to be excavated under a fine layer of dirt.
Before I close out here I just want to make it clear: I'm not saying that we should be trying to return to some nebulous "glorious past" that never really existed. I'm not trying to deride Toby Fox for not working in the sweatshop hard enough to produce more content™, or whatever you wanna try and spin-doctor this post into. It's just a thought that creeps into my head every now that I wanted to share, see if anyone feels the same, yknow?
Besides it's not all doom and gloom. For those of you OG Homestucks who read till the end. You remember Heinoustuck? Guidestuck? Nightfall? Fucking Ke$haStuck? yeah those are still going by the way! after years of inactivity they've now started back up again. some under new authors and some by the same author but still!
You could say a lot about that but to me at least, it makes me feels hopeful in a way. That, even if not everything will survive. we'll at least have some mementos to remember what came before.
621 notes · View notes
ask-spiderpool · 4 months
Note
Hey mod, are you okay? It’s been a while since you posted (no judgement!) and I just wanted to see if something was wrong. Love you and I hope you stay strong🫶🏼
Bless you anon! I appreciate you checking in! I don't post a lot of personal updates here, but I have been going through the wringer lately... hough.
Lately I've been battling with anxiety, you know, same as everyone. It's kind of made things that I used to enjoy kind of stressful for me. Everything becomes stressful for me. Even not having things to stress about makes me stressed. I'm at my most Peter Parkeriest, in the worst sort of a way.
Tumblr media
I thought it was a brain thing – that it was all in my head. I have a new, stressful job, and a stressful living situation, and some family issues I'm dealing with. It'll pass. So I kind of tried to power through, until my body shut down on me last year. And as it turns out, when I got checked out by the doc, it's not just a brain thing. I have a tumor (her name is Lamar, and she's benign, buuut...) she's producing 5x the normal amount of stress hormone in my body. The doctors think it's insane. I think it's hilarious. I feel like it's some kind of joke.
I've been battling this ridiculous chronic stress for years, thinking it was all in my head, but actually, biologically, I'm an overflowing reservoir of stress, and it's something that can be measured in my bloodstream. And it's been going on for years!
Tumblr media
So, lately I've been devoting a lot of time to forcing myself to relax. Doctors orders. I can't get stressed about things. Every day I have to effectively diffuse a bomb. And the bomb is me. I'm so pumped up with involuntary stress, and I have to devote my time to keeping it at a manageable level. And so there are a lot of backflips I have to do to keep myself human right now, and not turn into a bomb.
See... posting to the blog doesn't exactly calm me down. It makes me anxious, most of the time. So I've been telling myself it's okay. Only post when you feel good. You have enough things to worry about, and the blog can't be one another thing to worry about. It can only be for fun. If it doesn't feel like fun, don't do it.
I need to do a million little calming activities to function. The blog used to calm me. But it doesn't, anymore. I still love it, and I still have so many scripts I'm excited to do, but... I just have to be patient with myself, right now. I can't bug my head over something that can wait. It can wait. Right now isn't the time. My health is the most important thing. I can't get that back, if I lose it.
Right now I'm about keeping my head above water. Keeping calm. Doing meditative things, that aren't necessarily productive... (trust me, I am SO upset about not being productive. I miss it a lot) but they force me to take it slow and force me to not worry. I'm learning the banjo (she calms me), and I spend a lot more time in nature, having staring contests with ducks and pigeons, and befriending beetles and bugs.
I'm a very positive person, and I know I'll make it through, and I love myself for all the effort I'm making to keep myself from breaking. Because I know if I didn't force myself to calm down, I could snap like an elastic band. I – I don't want to break, like I did last year. I need to be good to myself. And relaxing is an effort. It takes a lot for me. And certain calming routines work for a little while, and then stop working, and I need to make the effort all over again to find something new. It's kind of insane how much time I need to calm back down again. I remember, once upon a time, it being baseline.
Luckily there's a surgical solution, so hopefully I'll be normal again soon, and there won't be any more bees buzzing in my brain!
I hope you'll all be patient with me! And hopefully I'll make it out alive and stronger than ever, soon.
Tumblr media
576 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 1 year
Text
The One Thing You Can't Have
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)
Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.
Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception
A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!
With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.
When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.
You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.
"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.
The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.
"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.
He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.
The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.
"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.
"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.
"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.
You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.
After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.
Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.
There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.
After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.
He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.
It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.
He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.
You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.
“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.
“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.
It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.
You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.
“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.
He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.
Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.
To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.
“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.
“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.
“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.
“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.
“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”
“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.
Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.
Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.
So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.
Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.
So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.
“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.
“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.
“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.
“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.
“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”
“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”
“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.
Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.
“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.
He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.
“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”
And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.
You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.
It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.
He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.
He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.
When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.
You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.
The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.
You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.
"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.
Derek was going to give him hell.
"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."
"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.
"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.
His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.
He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.
He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.
It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.
The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.
Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.
Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.
The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.
The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.
"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.
"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.
"Y/N, how drunk are you?"
"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.
"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.
"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"
"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.
"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.
"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."
"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.
"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.
He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.
And he had a third pair of your underwear.
He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.
He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.
Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.
It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.
In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.
The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.
You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.
They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.
"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.
You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.
"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.
Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.
"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."
"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.
You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.
"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.
Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.
Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.
He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.
You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.
You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.
"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."
"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.
By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.
Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.
Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.
Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.
You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.
This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.
Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.
You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.
He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.
But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.
Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.
You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.
Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.
The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.
With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.
Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.
His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.
He was screwed.
"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.
Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.
"What did I miss?"
"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."
"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.
"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.
"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.
But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.
But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.
He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.
"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.
You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.
He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.
"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.
"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.
"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."
"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.
"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.
For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.
"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.
“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.
“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”
You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.
Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.
When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.
“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.
“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”
“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”
The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.
“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.
He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.
Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.
“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.
“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.
“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.
“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.
“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”
“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”
“Was that a threat, Spencer?”
“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”
“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”
“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.
Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.
When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.
“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”
“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.
“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”
You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.
“Peace offering?”
He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.
“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”
He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.
Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.
“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”
“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.
“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”
“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.
His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.
Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.
You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.
You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.
“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.
“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.
When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up
You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.
“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.
You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.
You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.
“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.
“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”
“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.
You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.
“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”
You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.
Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.
Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.
“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.
“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.
There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.
“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.
“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.
“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.
“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.
“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.
“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”
“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.
“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.
“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”
“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”
“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.
“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”
“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.
“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.
You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.
“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.
“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”
“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.
“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.
“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.
“What?”
“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.
“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.
“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Spencer! What are you doing?”
“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”
“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.
“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.
2K notes · View notes
silkscream · 11 months
Text
HEAVEN SURROUNDS US
ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!
Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.
Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.
He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.
Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.
You are the only thing that reminds him of this.
Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable. 
When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning. 
He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.
It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.
Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.
That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him. 
You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.
“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt. 
God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.
“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again. 
Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.
“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”
“You look at me all day.”
“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”
You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.
“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself. 
“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”
Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only. 
He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back. 
“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”
“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.
“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.
He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks. 
“More,”  you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”
You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you. 
The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.
The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher. 
He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.
If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all. 
“I‘m gonna… I’m–”
There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.
“Why are you being so mean to me today?”
“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”
“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.
“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.
He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to. 
So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.
You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.
“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”
“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”
His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel. 
Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.
You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.
Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking. 
Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it. 
He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you. 
Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him. 
You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.
And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you. 
And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you. 
“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.
“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers. 
You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.
You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.
And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.
“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut. 
You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.
Made for me. God made you for me.
You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you – cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)
In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain. 
“Tell me what you want.”
“Want– I want– aah!”
“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.
“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”
��Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”
“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”
He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.
“Don’t do that,” you whine.
“Do what, baby?”
“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”
“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.
“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”
And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it. 
You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls. 
“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”
“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”
Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.
You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.
Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.
“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”
He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image. 
The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.
You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.
“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs. 
His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back. 
Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse. 
Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.
“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.
“What was that?” you raise a brow.
He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.
“I think I wanna keep you.”
If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.
“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun. 
Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.
For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.
936 notes · View notes
charliehoennam · 7 months
Text
A/N: fulfilling @j23r23's request made here. Happy reminder that requests are open!!
Summary: Alfie comes homes late at night and finds his pregnant wife sleeping on the couch and confesses his fear to his unborn child
Pairing: Alfie Solomons x F!reader
Warning: sexual connotations towards the end, language, pregnancy themes
SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG
Tumblr media
Alfie was never one to be easily scared. He had a tough upbringing and, being the man of the house to his two older sisters, Rebecca and Debora, and their divorced mother, he had to grow up fast.
His father had left before Alfie was even born, leaving his son to become the only man of the house.
Sure, his mother was quite the mama bear herself. But there had always been resentment from Alfie towards his unacquainted father for leaving his mother to fend for her children on her own.
Alfie vowed that, if he ever became a father, he would support and help the mother of his child however he could, no matter how unconventional.
You felt like the luckiest woman in the world to be married to him. Alfie was nothing like most men. Most men would participate very little in these affairs, believing them to be limited only to women, but not Alfie. And if anyone dissed him for it, he'll tell those cowards to fuck right off because he wouldn't leave you alone in one of the most painful moments of your life.
It wasn't very common for you either. Part of you was so worried about just having him present for the birth. You worried he wouldn't want to go anywhere near you after it - obviously after you've healed - or have another child.
"Love, after the war I've seen, there is no amount of blood that can scare me away. Now, I won't pry if you don't want me to, of course. I'll respect whatever boundaries you have. But I would like to be there to hold your hand at the very least," he'd say.
He was hellbent on getting you all the best doctors and only the most experienced midwives to assist with pregnancy and the labor.
He didn't avoid making love to you because you were pregnant. It surprisingly turned him him on, made him certain about getting a baby back into you as soon as he could.
Every night, he came home to you with your favorite sweet and treated you to a warm bath together entitled to a foot rub and back rub just before bed.
Every afternoon, he'd meet you exactly at 3 when the weather wasn't too sunny or cold for a walk around the square or the block.
Every morning, once it became harder for you to bend over, he'd kneel down every time to get your heels on for you and compliment how beautiful you looked.
Regardless of the arguments you'd have, he was always consistent with his help. It didn't matter how he felt, he put his feelings aside as he reminded himself that they were nothing compared to the human growing in your body.
Your unborn child had reminded him of his sisters struggles during their terms. Crying over their husbands' affairs, neglected and alone, desperately wondering how they would raise the child. He was only a boy at the time, but he made sure to remember their names.
Once older and stronger, he tracked down all the men responsible for breaking his sisters' hearts and punished them with a beat-down they'd never forget. He considered offing them, but he figured the very least they could do is provide financial support. So, before they could even speak right or breathe through a healed nose, he put them into jobs his contacts proposed especially to him in order to keep a close on them.
That was simply Alfie's nature. Protective and vengeful.
Despite barely having to lift a finger for anything ever since Alfie hired an entire team to assist you, your body still felt exhausted and heavy from the weight of the growing baby in your belly.
You found yourself sat on the couch with Cyril snoring peacefully at your feet, warmed by the crackling fireplace before you.
You wanted to lie in your bed and rest your swollen feet in the comfortable warmth of your cotton linens, but Alfie still wasn't home. You worried when he got home late.
It took one look at the winding wooden stairs to convince you to swing your legs up on the couch, stretching them over the plush cushions.
Closing the heavy book in your hand, you tucked it snug between your side and the back of the couch for a quick shut-eye.
When Alfie arrived home, he tried to be as quiet as possible. He wasn't sure if you'd gone to bed, but he did know you had trouble sleeping without him. Your limited sleep positions were nothing as comfortable as snuggling up to his side.
Locking the door, he hung up his coat and hat. Just before he could make it to the first step of the stairs, he heard Cyril's snoring coming from the living room. That's when he noticed the light radiating from the fireplace, dancing against your skin as you slept soundly.
He stood in the door watching you for a moment, basking in the image of your sleeping frame. The warmth of the fireplace could not compete with of that which spread through his chest.
Alfie smiled to himself as he gazed upon you, his eyes admiring every crevice and hair on your face. The line of your nose, the eyelashes you'd bat at him, the shape of your lips and the faint curve of your smile lines. He loved knowing he'd been the main cause of those particularly.
But, as his gaze moved down to your protruding belly, he was reminded how close the day was. He wondered how the months flew by so fast.
He felt like he had so much time to prepare for fatherhood, but he felt just as hopeless as when you first told him about the baby.
Stepping into the living room, he walked over quietly to join Cyril on the floor in front of the couch.
He stared into the fireplace as cyril shifted to rest his head on Alfie's lap - his laziest greeting yet.
Alfie sat on one side, leaving his opposite leg bent to rest his arm over his knee. Your belly was just inches away.
Moving his gaze back your clothed bump, he sighed heavily.
"You know, I never met my father, right," he whispered to the unborn child. "I think it's wise you know that now, 'fore you come out. Didn't have one growing up, see? So I 'avent got the slightest idea of how to be one."
Lured from your nap by Alfie's voice, you slowly blinked your eyes open. Although Alfie's head of hair was all you saw, you realized he wasn't talking to you and he couldn't see you were awake.
Eavesdropping wasn't very polite, but you couldn't help yourself. You didn't want to stop him, but hearing him to the baby in you was quite heartwarming so you decided to let Alfie have a bonding moment of his own.
"Truth is you got me downright scared," he continued. "Even after months, I still am downright terrified and you ain't even 'ere yet... I know it's a lot to ask, yeah, especially since you're still in there, blissfully unaware of the horrors of the world. But I give you my word I'll try my best to be the best for you and your mum. I hope you can understand that even when you decide to hate me whenever I give you an earful. Though I doubt I can do it. Think your mum will have to sort you out," he mumbled with a playful smirk. "I'll try my best for you, yeah? I just hope it's enough."
Alife's smirk faded as she gazed at your belly. He felt pathetic, venting to an unborn child as if that would solve all his problems. Alfie hated admitted, and he would never admit it to anyone but you, but he was terrified of becoming a father.
You didn't blame him; you had your own fears as well, so you could understand why this precious and fragile life had him so frightened.
He still hadn't noticed you were awake or that you had heard his confession. Until you lifted a hand to stroke the hair on the back of his head.
" 'eard all that, did ya?"
He didn't exactly blush, but he did feel warmth racing around his face with embarrassment.
"You're going to be a great father, Alfie" you answered. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But as long as we're together and we have each other, we can get through anything."
"Yeah, I know, love," Alfie nodded and sighed. He hated talking about his emotions, even if it was to the only person he could trust blindly. "I just don't want to be a disappointment like my father, if you could even call 'im that much."
"You won't be, and I'll tell you why. You're nothing like him," you smiled, carding your fingers through his brown locks. "You're a good man, Alf. I know you do what you have to do out there, but what matters to me is the man you are in here. And in here, you're a good man. And I wouldn't want to be carrying anyone's child. I'm honored to be the mother of our babe."
"You really mean that?" he smiled trying to look over his shoulder at you, as far as his neck - and age - allowed.
"Every word. You're worried enough to ask your sisters and the midwives for help, Alf. Not many men care to even worry about that sorta thing."
"I'm not like most men," he smirked feeling a sense of pride. "How'd you know about that though?"
"Becca told me you been meeting her for tea every week for advice."
"I fucking knew it. I knew she'd blabber off to you," he chuckled shyly.
"It's nothing to ashamed of, love. I actually find your level of concern and willingness to help in whichever way extremely attractive," you smirked stroking the sensitive skin on his neck with your finger.
"Do you now?" He grinned mischievously knowing exactly where this was headed. One of the perks that came with your pregnancy, in the later stages of it, was the sharp peak of sexual desires.
There were no more worries about you getting pregnant - too late for that now - and seeing your belly swollen, with his child that he put inside you, only made him wish he could put more and more.
"I think I like where this is headed."
616 notes · View notes
vin-taege · 6 months
Note
Could you do headcannons for both sfw and nsfw showering with Chishiya? :3
The Water's Just Right
Summary: Showering headcanons for our favorite snarky boy
Genre: fluff, smut, gn! reader
Note: Oh yeah, I'm back again! I've been gone for so long because of college, but I'm here again to revive the aib fandom >:3 also my first time writing headcannons. :DDD I think I got carried away sjjsjs
Tumblr media
☄. *. ⋆ sfw
ok let's start with headcannons for the real world
as a doctor, he mainly takes quick showers
contrary to popular belief, i feel like he enjoys hot showers over cold ones. like he's already going to be stressed because of work, so might as well have at least one part of his day be a little relaxing
the only time you can take joint showers with him is during his off-days or if you stay up long enough to catch him coming home
he doesn't like it when you do the latter option because he firmly believes you should take care of yourself and sleep early
even though he runs on 3 hours of sleep maximum every day
he lets you wash his hair after initially (and weakly) refusing
you definitely use scented shampoo on him (strawberry because he thinks floral scents are too strong)
he prefers subtle scents because the hospital is already filled with strong odors.
he'll never admit he likes it when you wash his hair, especially when you massage his scalp
"did you purr a little?"
"I think you need your hearing checked."
loves it when you run your hands up and down his back
you mainly use showering as an excuse to dote on him
likes kissing your neck while you attempt to lather soap on him
random but he installed a non-slip mat on the floor because he doesn't want the two of you to get into any accidents
likes playing with your hair by gathering soap bubbles and dumping them on you
you don't point this out because you're scared he'll withdraw from letting himself be a kid for once
sometimes when it's been a rough day, he lets you hold him in the shower for a moment
just letting the warm water wash away his stress while he melts into your arms
he used to skip lotion until you started putting it on him
he got used to it after that and subconsciously started integrating it into his routine
honestly before you came along, had the worst skincare routine ever
"That's... that's not how you put on facial wash. You need to wash your face with it for at least a minute."
"I'm not a dermatologist, y/n."
"You don't need to be to know that???"
In the borderlands, it's basically the same but without the luxury of proper skin products.
always ALWAYS showers after games
he hates the ick from going outside and keeps himself sane by maintaining cleanliness
surprisingly, he's more forward with asking you to join him
in the real world, you're the one who always asks for permission, but now he always looks for your presence
especially since he knows you could be gone any day
"Do you want to join me?"
"Didn't the heater system break down?"
"I fixed ours. The water's just right."
☄. *. ⋆ nsfw
remember that non-slip mat?
oh yeah, that was definitely for this occasion
he doesn't like lifting you up because again, safety first
prefers standing positions where he can press you up against the wall.
LOVES LOVES LOVES FOGGING UP THE GLASS
he doesn't pull your hair because he knows it'll be prone to breakage
he's such a nerd about bodily care except for when it comes to himself.
holds your neck instead and uses it as leverage to pound into you
either that or he digs his fingers into your hips so he can grind his cock inside you.
makes it his goal to make you squirt at least once
OK THIS IS MY PERSONAL HEADCANNON
it may be because of the tight space, or the bathroom acoustics, or the added privacy
but this man is definitely louder in the shower
you love sucking him off because of this
deep moaning, swearing, whimpering when you're being a little shit and you overstimulate him
plays with your chest a lot because he likes how slippery the soap makes it
LISTEN
also installed a detachable showerhead ;)))
367 notes · View notes
onehoplessromantic · 2 months
Text
B. Bradshaw | Masterlist
Top Gun - Maverick
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Updated: 8/7/2024 [permanent state of oblivion]
!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily
Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.
peace!
PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well
fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️
Series
☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor
13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍
Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.
☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming
12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...
☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank
3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.
☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04
4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋
The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.
☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor
8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.
☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds
1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️
Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)
☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank
2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍
Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?
☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls
13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️
You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!
☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls
10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️
A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement
☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor
3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍
Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.
Oneshots
☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose
wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️
teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end
Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.
☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28
wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing
Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far
☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 2.8k | 🌧️
swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme
The one where the deployments become too much.
☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank
wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍
angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader
Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.
☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28
wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️
bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst
You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.
☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley
wc: idk | 🌧️🤍
angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending
You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.
☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds
wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️
heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick
Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)
☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️
fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing
The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.
☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04
wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍
smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more
The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.
☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank
wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍
tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic
the title says all you need to know
☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank
wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍
accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader
It’s a drabble, I cant say much…
☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor
wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍
fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it
You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.
☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser
wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍
tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley
just read it goddamnit 🥹
☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines
wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍
drinking, arguments, angsty feelings
Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.
taglist sign up
ⓒ onehopelessromantic, August 2024
240 notes · View notes
marvelfilth · 1 year
Text
Wisdom teeth
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x f!reader
Warnings: ooc! Wednesday, mention of blood
Summary: "I've been successful at keeping this piece of information to myself for the past two months and twelve days, but now it seems that I can't hold back the words from escaping my treacherous mouth. It's almost as if I have no control of what is going through my brain at the moment. I feel like an adolescent cliché."
Masterlist
Tumblr media
She doesn't say anything when you help her to the passenger seat of your car, her eyes stay rooted on the spot above your shoulder, dark and unblinking. She sits dutifully and doesn't complain when you bend to fasten her seatbelt, your warm fingers barely grazing her clothed thigh on accident. You think you heard a slightest hitch of her throat, but that might have been your wishful thinking.
Ever since the brooding brunette first stepped foot on Nevermore grounds you were irrevocably pulled in her orbit, always close enough to be seen by her, but never close enough to reach out and touch, not that you'll ever try, you do need all of your fingers intact. Her menacing aura and Machiavellian tendencies never stopped you from trying to reach out and form some sort of connection, even if it was just making eye contact in dark hallways or receiving nearly unperceivable eye rolls whenever Enid dragged you to their room. Not even once in the months you've known her did she grace you with more than a few words and barely noticeable nods, opting to focus on her novel or, in extreme cases, leaving the room to continue her endless investigations.
So when Enid cornered you in the morning and practically begged you to take Wednesday to the dentist's office, you were torn between crushing Enid in a hug and fleeing to the woods to hide out.
In the end, you couldn't miss the chance to get to know the gothic girl a little bit better.
Wednesday pointedly clears her throat and you jump up, bumping your head against the roof of your car, close the door and make your way to the driver's seat.
You suppose her impatience to get back to school makes sense with how overstuffed her mouth seems at the moment, and once you're finally behind the wheel you reach over the console to gently swab away droplets of blood on her lips.
She stops breathing altogether.
"Are you alright, Wednesday?" You can't help, but ask, your hand awkwardly hovering over the console.
She takes a moment to think and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming when you practically see gears turning in her head as she struggles to formulate a response, her brows crinkled and lips slightly pursed.
"Your archive. Are we going there now?" She asks.
And there's that.
She refused anesthesia, looking eager to go through all the pain, her eyes shining brighter than you've ever seen. The doctor blanched, stuttering while he tried to reason with her, mentioning how agonizing the pain will be and how he'll probably get fired if he agreed to do it.
It made your skin crawl.
You pulled her away before she could threaten the poor man, promising her anything she wanted if listened to the doctor and agreed to anesthesia.
Her eyes flickered to your hand on her shoulder before she looked back at the sweating man, her eyes narrowing slightly.
You held your breath, looking at her with wide eyes, already regretting your offer, but all she asked for was unlimited access to your family archive.
You suppose her request made sense, given your family's history and her unwavering interest in all things unknown, but it still made your heart clench with an unbidden feeling you'd never name out loud.
"No, we're going back to school. I told you I'll take you there over summer, remember?" You patiently reply, subtly eyeing the grumpy brunette.
She huffs, wincing when it causes her pain and turns to look out the window, her eyes slightly hazy.
You take a deep breath and finally pull out from the parking lot, driving in silence and keeping your eyes firmly on the road until you can no longer pretend like you don't feel her heavy gaze on you.
"What is it, Wednesday?"
"Your face."
You blanch, offended. "What about it?"
You don't think you'll be able to withstand her making fun of your looks. She doesn't seem like the type to do that, but you can't be too sure - she is acting rather out of character.
"It's distracting. Turn around." She demands, furrowing her brows.
Your jaw falls open. "Wednesday, I'm driving."
She huffs and crosses her arms. After a minute of contemplation she starts rummaging through your glove compartment.
"Don't," you groan. You won't let her tear you apart for the mess she'll undoubtedly find there, so you reach for your phone. "Why don't you play a game? Or, I don't know, find something to blackmail me with?" You unlock it and toss it on her lap, your hand falling back on the wheel, clutching it in a tight grip.
Your phone lays untouched for a long moment and you have to restrain yourself from looking over at the ravenette. It's the longest you've spent in her company and she most certainly said more words in the past ten minutes than she did in all the time you've known her, and Enid didn't prepare you for conversations.
Your palms start to sweat a little.
She looks down at her lap and picks up your phone with two fingers only to throw it on the backseat. "I'm allergic to technology," she deadpans.
She stays silent for the next few minutes and you relax, thanking every divine being for making this trip somewhat easy for you.
And that's when she turns to look back at you, her expression sour and displeased, like you just said something really dumb. You decide to ignore her for as long as you can, checking your blind spots and fiddling with the radio to seem busy.
She pointedly clears her throat, pulling your attention. You sigh and look at her.
"What now?"
She frowns. "I feel compelled to reveal something you might find… unwelcome." Her mumble comes out distorted and she winces slightly, her hand coming up to cradle her swollen cheek and you swiftly slap it away, sheepishly looking away at her affronted look.
"Don't want you to hurt yourself."
"Usually, slapping ones hand causes them pain," she retorts, fully turning in her seat to face you. "You slapped my hand. That hurt. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but I prefer to inflict pain, not receive it."
You snort, shaking your head at the smaller girl and she pouts. Wednesday Addams, the girl who'd rather jump off a cliff in a river full of piranhas than show an ounce of human emotion, pouts.
But maybe it's not so strange, considering the circumstances.
You adjust in your seat, your right hand landing on your thigh to subtly fiddle with the rough fabric of your jeans. They're light blue, with flowers all over their back pockets and Wednesday absolutely hates them, which is why, you guess, she's currently staring down at your legs like they're her mortal enemies.
The tips of her ears turn red.
"Must you do that?" She hisses, gesturing to your hand on your thigh.
You blink and place it back on the wheel, noting the way her eyes snap up to glare at the road.
"Are you feeling okay?" You ask, because she's starting to look restless. Her fingers clench and unclench on her lap and she keeps glancing at your hand every couple of seconds.
"No." Her eyes snap up to look at the roof of your car, her face a picture of impatience. "Hold my hand."
You gulp, breath catching in your throat and turn to look at the smaller girl just in time to catch her boring holes into your hand and probe lightly at her cheeks. Your mouth opens to stutter a response, but her scathing look makes you shut up.
"This gauze in my mouth feels terrible, I can't possibly endure it a moment longer. Holding your hand will make the feeling bearable." She looks at you expectantly, turning over her hand on her lap, waiting.
You hesitantly reach out and take her hand. She laces your fingers, letting out a quiet sigh as she sags against the weathered leather, turning to look out the window.
You can't believe this is happening.
This Wednesday is not something you're equipped to deal with. Hell, you can barely manage her regular self, which still comes hard at times, especially when you intrude on her writing time. It's not like you mean to do that, but a certain blonde always chooses that exact hour to invite you over, always wearing a mischievous smirk when Wednesday tenses up upon your arrival.
This feels like walking on thin ice at gunpoint with a ticking bomb in your hands.
"How-"
Her nails dig into your skin hard enough to make you yelp, but you don't pull away, eyeing the stewing girl. She's breathing heavily, her lips opening and closing as she seemingly tries to keep herself from blurting something out.
It's so bizarre you have an urge to pinch yourself, but you don't need that with her nails still digging into your skin.
You focus on the road, afraid to stir the dragon.
Her next words make you jolt so hard the car wavers on the road.
"Every time my eyes land on you my heart skips a beat," she says, like she's complaining about a mystery she couldn't solve.
You grip the steering wheel tighter. "What?"
"One does not typically pay attention to such mundane thing, but I do. Whenever you're in my vicinity I can't help, but be aware of each skipped beat of my heart. The feeling is revolting, and I've had the urge to confess this ever since I woke up." She frowns, and it's quiet for a few minutes as she seemingly gathers her thoughts.
The moment you had in your art shed suddenly comes to mind. You went there after a long day of studying in the library, ready to decompress and finish your latest painting. You didn't expect anyone to be there, which is why you shrieked like a maniac when you flicked the lights on, basking Wednesday's rigid form in warm yellow glow. She stood over your painting, her features stony and unreadable as her fingers traced the outline of a shipwreck on the canvas, the still wet paint smudging her fingers and messing up your precise strokes.
It made the painting even more beautiful.
You dug around your backpack, looking for tissues, taking a step closer when you finally found some. With great hesitance, you reached for her hand, your fingers closing around her delicate wrist. Her lips parted as she inhaled, her pulse erratic under your thumb. She took one look at you, turned on her heel and left, her perfume lingering in the air.
You gulp, when her grip on your hand turns painful. "I've been successful at keeping this piece of information to myself for the past two months and twelve days, but now it seems that I can't hold back the words from escaping my treacherous mouth. It's almost as if I have no control of what is going through my brain at the moment. I feel like an adolescent cliché," she complains through gritted teeth, irritated.
Your face burns the same shade as the red light you've come to stop at. You don't know if you should feel ecstatic or fear for your life, because no matter what happens next, you're sure Wednesday will have your head for witnessing a rare moment of weakness. But your heart always had more power than your head, so you're left with trembling hands and sweaty palms, choking on your breath as you struggle to think of something to say.
"Wednesday, I'm going to have a heart attack," you mumble.
"You're not showing any signs of an impending heart attack, if anything, your symptoms correlate with something Enid usually calls having a crush." She's back to staring intently at you, catching every twitch of the muscles on your face as you try your best to keep your blush at bay. Her hand slides up, enclosing your wrist.
Your heart burns in your chest and you feel the need to correct her, to tell her that what you feel for her is more than some stupid crush. You need to tell her about the way your dark wings tingle when she brushes past you, begging to be released from the confinement of your spine. You need to tell her about the way your heart beats out a special rhythm, hammering against your ribs like a caged animal, desperately leading its owner to the girl who successfully stole it.
You need to tell her how easy it was to fall for her and how hard it got when you realized the extent of your feelings.
You need to tell her something, anything.
You need to tell her everything.
A loud honk jostles you and you look back at the road to keep driving, trying your best to hide your face when a car passes by you, the driver giving you a finger.
"Imbecile," Wednesday mumbles.
"Yeah, what an asshole."
"I meant you. The gesture was entirely appropriate seeing as you failed to pay attention to your surroundings."
"Huh?" You gape. "You're insulting me now?"
"Your observation skills never cease to amaze me," she frowns in thought, "just like your remarkable ability to make my existence less bothersome." The haze in her eyes is gone, replaced by reserve and a hint of fondness.
Your brain short circuits.
You pull over and let your forehead fall against the wheel, still holding it in a death grip.
You would never admit it to anyone, not even on your deathbed, but you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at her quiet confession.
Your smile is so wide it hurts your cheeks, but you don't care as long as Wednesday keeps looking at you like that, like she's trying her best at keeping away the warmth in her eyes. They flicker to your lips when you lick them, and this time she can't keep her emotions in check, her eyes alight with fiery passion.
You can't help voicing your concern. "I thought you didn't like me that much. I mean, you barely speak to me when Enid drags me to your dorm."
She looks at you for a long moment. Her thumb circles your knuckle. "Enid has a surprisingly perceptive eye. She noticed a certain change in my behavior long before I did and decided to act on it. I simply wasn't prepared."
"Are you prepared now?" You breathe out.
"Are you?"
You let out a relieved laugh, and pull her hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss on her ice cold knuckle. "Wednesday, I've been pining over you since the day we met."
She lets out a barely noticeable breath and you suddenly realize she's been nervous all this time too, you just failed to pay attention in your anxiety riddled state.
"Good." The corners of her mouth fly up.
Your eyes widen. She has dimples.
She turns away nonchalantly and places your intertwined hands on her lap, looking like she just solved the biggest mystery known to mankind.
2K notes · View notes
flanaganfilm · 6 months
Note
howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve
I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.
Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.
I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.
There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.
But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.
(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)
292 notes · View notes
hugshughes · 10 months
Text
this is me trying L. Fantilli
Tumblr media
Luca Fantilli x fem!reader
synopsis - You just want Luca to know that you're trying.
wc - 2.5k
contains - cursing, academic burnout (self reflection...), crying, not feeling good enough, reader has an older brother, um suggestiveness??? (reader makes one joke), that's it! LMK!
an - im so sorry i kept you guys waiting... but happy thanksgiving, forgive me im so thankful for you guys. this was a bit more self indulgent than my other fics... THIS WAS SO LATE BECAUSE i wrote 2000+ words then they didn't save and so i literally cried over it and couldn't write for the rest literal week whenever i came back to it i was upset, like i was that sad guys. and i really don't love this because it just isn't as perfect as the first one i wrote was. anyways hope you love this!
-
i've been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.
You were sick. Not like physical illness, go to the doctor and get medicine sick. You were sick of waking up every day, going to the same classes, eating the same food, coming home, sitting alone in your dorm, then falling asleep and doing it over again. But you couldn't afford to do anything else at the same time. If you wanted to get the grades you needed to pass your current classes, you were going to have to work your ass off.
You were always considered gifted. You took advanced classes all of high school, attending college-level courses in your junior year. Even in your freshman year at Umich, you passed with flying colors, but now, now it was different. You don't know why classes were so much harder now, and it was especially hard because everything had always been so easy.
Even with all of this, you had Luca. Luca had been your boyfriend since October of freshman year. He'd always stood by your side no matter what, but now it felt different. He'd never seen you like this, struggling so much with things you were known for being good at. You remember him telling you how proud he was when you had gotten a 98% on one of your final exams last year, you were worried he wouldn't be proud anymore.
As a child, you were conditioned into thinking that better grades meant better treatment from your parents. Your brother had been a star student always until he'd slacked off senior year and ended up going to a college he was way too smart for. When that happened, your parents decided you wouldn't be like your brother. You would go to a good school, and get good grades, and in exchange they would love you, at least that's how it felt.
i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.
All the love you'd ever known was for a price, your parents', your boyfriend's, even your brother's it was like you had to be good enough before they would consider you lovable.
You never felt this from Luca, but you never gave him a reason to think otherwise. You'd always been this smart girl for him, a girl he bragged about to his friends. The girl he could go to for help in classes.
You didn't mean to be pushing Luca away, but you were so stressed and didn't want to bring him into it.
I know I already said you weren't sick like an illness, but right now you felt gross. You were stuffy and coughing and had a pounding headache, but you had assignments due at 11:59 pm and they couldn't wait. It was 9:03 pm and it didn't look like you were gonna get any relief from class work for a while longer.
pulled the car off the road to the lookout. could've followed my fears all the way down.
You didn't even know you were crying until you saw tears fall onto your iPad screen, where you were currently writing notes for a quiz you had tomorrow. You felt completely helpless. You couldn't stop and let yourself wallow, because you had to get moving on your study guide.
You dropped your Apple Pencil and just buried your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes till you saw stars. Your pity party was interrupted by your phone ringing. Your phone was on your studying do not disturb so if someone's call was coming through it had to be Luca's.
You quickly tried to steady your breathing before swiping to answer the call.
"Hi?"
"Hey. So, what's with you totally skipping my game? You know that meant a lot to me."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How did you forget? You were the worst girlfriend ever.
"Oh my God, Luca. I'm so fucking sorry, it completely slipped my mind, oh my God, I didn't even know. I had a really long day, baby, I'm so sorry."
You were trying not to cry even more, you didn't want Luca to think you were a crybaby. Crybaby. That's what your parents called you whenever you got like this, too much for them to love.
and maybe i don't quite know what to say,
Luca just sighed, upset. He was upset with you, and you couldn't fix it. You could hear rustling on Luca's end, and another voice. All of a sudden you were seventeen getting a call from your nineteen-year-old boyfriend while he cheated on you, while another girl laid with him.
but i'm here in your doorway.
You didn't think Luca would do that to you, you really knew he wouldn't. But that one part of you was just screaming that you'd proven yourself unworthy to him, that he was done.
i just wanted you to know,
"I just, I don't even know anymore. You haven't consistently talked to me in weeks, every time we do speak you're in your head, and you keep pushing things off and forgetting. I just don't know what I'm doing wrong here."
Fuck, you couldn't stop the floodgates now. You quickly sniffed, holding the phone away from you so he wouldn't hear, soaking the cuff of your sweatshirt sleeve with tears before trying to respond.
"No, no Luc, you're not doing anything wrong. The last month has just been tough, I just don't know how to tell you. I'm trying Luca, I am, and I'm sorry. I know it doesn't fix anything and you still have every right to be angry with me, I understand why-"
this is me trying.
"Hey, it's whatever, just don't worry about it."
No. No this couldn't happen like this. He couldn't be checking out of your relationship right now. You needed him, even if you didn't know how to tell him. You accidentally let out a whimper when you tried to speak, before shakily breathing a deep breath and trying again.
"No, it isn't. I'm not being good to you. I just- Fuck Luca I'm sorry I didn't mean to forget, and I'm not meaning to be such a bad girlfriend I just, there's just,"
"Just what?"
"I don't know how to tell you! I don't want you to think differently about me Luc. You've never seen me like this."
Your trauma was truly shining through, you were terrified of Luca thinking you weren't smart.
"Are you like uninterested now? You could just tell me, not lead me on! Not just ghost me!"
"No Luca! I love you so much, I'm in love with you. I just-"
You cut yourself off, letting out a stressed sigh, rubbing your eyes when you felt the tears prick in them.
i just wanted you to know,
You didn't know what to say, it was so complicated. Every time you ever tried to talk about this with your family they shut you down, told you you were wrong for feeling like you did, and you didn't want Luca to think those things too.
"I just can't do this stuff anymore,"
"What?"
this is me trying.
"I'm just not smart anymore, and everything is so hard. And I don't know how to talk to you about it 'cause I don't want you to think I'm not smart, but I don't think I am anymore."
"Oh, baby."
Luca was stunned, his girl was going through something and he was upset with her over a hockey game. He thought you were beginning to distance yourself from him because you started to be uninterested in him. He never would've assumed you were doing it because you were scared to talk to him. He never would've assumed you were scared he would think less of you.
"Hey, it's okay. Everything's gonna be alright, okay? How about I come over? We can talk more about everything and I know I'm not the brightest guy when it comes to all of your stuff but I could try to help. That okay, pretty?"
"Yes. Please, Angel. Need you right now."
"Okay, give me a couple minutes, I'll be right there. I love you, okay?"
"I love you, Luc."
Luca let you hang up, taking a deep breath and sitting for a moment just to take in what had just happened. He had a bad feeling in his stomach now, knowing how you were hurting. He quickly recovered and got up, putting his shoes and a hat on backward before leaving his dorm.
He walked fast through campus to get to your dorm building, the cold motivating him further. When he got to your dorm building, he quickly went up the stairs, taking two at a time, and to your room. You were in a single this year, so he wasn't worried about a roommate being bothered by his presence. He knocked on the decorated door gently, bouncing on his feet waiting for you.
they told me all of my cages were mental, so i got wasted like all my potential.
Luca could've sworn he felt his heart break when he saw your face, the exhaustion mixed with sadness wearing you down. He didn't say anything before jumping to wrap his arms around you, just holding you for a minute. You clung to him so tightly, you'd missed him so badly while digging yourself into a hole of isolation.
"Hi sweet girl."
You could've started crying again. He held you gently but firmly, and it was all you ever needed. You felt yourself relax for the first time in two and a half weeks.
and my words shoot to kill when i'm mad. i have a lot of regrets about that.
"Hi Luc"
You sniffled, and Luca just melted. He pulled away from you just a little, pulling his arms away so he could cradle your faces in his palms. You brought your hands up to rest on his wrists, rubbing your thumbs back and forth.
"I missed you, pretty."
You missed him like a little kid. But it was your fault you were ever apart.
i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.
"I missed you. 'M so sorry I isolated myself from you, I'm so fucking stressed right now. Everything is hard and it's scary 'cause it's never been hard like this for me, and I-"
fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here,
"I know baby. It is scary. College is just scary. And you are like the smartest girl I think ever so I know it's like even scarier for you when things don't make sense quickly, but it's gonna be okay. Because you have your amazing, talented, stud of a boyfriend to help you."
pouring out my heart to a stranger. but i didn't pour the whiskey.
You gave him a look, laughing for the first time in many days.
"He is pretty amazing, and talented, and hot, isn't he?"
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
He nodded reassuringly, before putting his hands on your hips and pushing you back into your room, closing your door behind him.
"Damn, you just got here."
"Shut the hell up."
You laughed as you climbed up onto your bed, pulling Luca up next to you after he took his shoes off.
at least i'm trying.
"So, about this class. What do we need to learn?"
You explained how tonight you only really needed to do two things, finish a paper that was 75% done, and do another assignment that if you could figure out how to understand the concept, would be done in no time. You both snuggled close together while looking at the paper, Luca helping you through sentences you got stuck on. You finished the paper quickly, then pulled up your notes for the concept of the other assignment.
and it's hard, to be at a party when i feel like an open wound. it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you.
At one point Luca took your laptop to read through the notes so you just turned over and rested your head on his chest, before seeing his gorgeous hair covered by a stupid hat grabbing it off of him, and putting it on your bedside table.
"No hats in my room."
"What? Since when?"
"Since I want to see your pretty hair, not the maize and blue hat I see every other day."
Luca just laughed, shaking his head and running his non-scrolling hand down your back. Luca somehow understood the concept and reiterated it to you in a way that made everything click. He was your good luck charm, you knew it. Everything made sense with him.
you're a flashback, in a film reel, on the one screen in my town.
You made him lay on your chest with your laptop resting on his back while you completed the assignment. One hand was in his hair while the other was gliding across the keyboard. You finished it in 20 minutes. And your chest felt so much lighter after you hit the submit button.
You closed your laptop, sliding it onto the floor before putting both of your hands into Luca's hair.
"I knew you could do it, baby. You just needed someone to tell you that."
"I love you."
"I love you so much."
Luca's arms around your middle tightened, and he moved his head to look up at you.
"I know you feel like you have to be this perfect person, baby, but I need you to know you don't have to do that for anyone, especially me. Because you are everything, and I can't take care of you if you're scared to talk to me about how you're feeling. I know your parents and other people make you feel like if you don't do good at school they will love you less, but you need to know that you could flunk out of school, and you would still be the most important person to me, okay?"
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
You were crying. You pulled him somehow closer and hugged him so tight, pulling away after over a minute to give him a good long kiss that expressed your gratitude. Because you were, so fucking grateful. This boy had seen all of it, and still chose you, and would continue to choose you until his last breath.
(and maybe i don't quite know what to say,)
"Thank you, Angel. You don't know how much hearing that means to me. I love you, so so much."
"You're everything. I see that you're trying, and that is always gonna be enough."
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. at least i'm trying.
832 notes · View notes
venuszn · 9 months
Text
☆ : “I’ll always take care of you.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Cw / Fluffy gf Bada . . . Nothing else !
Author’s note / Thank you @wanderlusturous the request ! I hope you I was able to capture what you wanted and I hope you enjoy <3
Wc / 845 Words
Tumblr media
Bada’s arm wrapped around your waist, firm but gentle, as she held you securely under her grasp. You feel her warmth radiate onto you as the both of you walk side by side, as per her request, seeing as she refused to part from you. 
“Bada, you know you can let go of me. I won't break apart the second you remove your hand.” You gently joked as your girlfriend led the both of you towards your apartment door.
“I know. But we’re home now. I’ll let go once I've tucked you into bed.” Bada says as she digs into her pocket for the apartment keys.
You peered up at Bada. You knew she was protective over you but now more so than ever. It had been just over a week since your surgery and you had just been discharged. But from the moment you left the hospital bed, Bada had not been more than three steps away from you. She was loyally by your side - ready to catch you if you should ever stagger or fall. 
The door unlocks and Bada reaches in and places your bags to the side. You then move your foot forward, ready to walk in, but before it touches the floor you’re suddenly swept up and the floor escapes you. A small yelp shoots from your lips and you instinctively wrap your arms around Bada’s shoulders. With wide eyes you stare up at your girlfriend only to see a satisfied smirk on her lips. 
“That’s enough walking for you.” Bada states as she gently holds you to her chest, as if you were her bride and she was yours. 
“But I'm fine. The doctor recommended walking, remember ?” You try to reason but it falls on stubborn ears. 
“And you’ve walked. So now, let me take care of you.” Bada carries you in her arms and makes her way to your shared bedroom.
In sickness and in health. Bada Lee worshipped you. You were hers to care for and that is what she intended to do.
Bada places you down onto the mattress, attentive to your body as her eyes scan your face for any signs of discomfort. You give her a small smile as you mutter a soft ‘thank you’. Bada returns your smile, the warmth of it reaching her eyes as she gazes down at you and leans in to press her lips to your forehead. 
“I’m going to start the shower, okay ?” Bada says before leaving for the bathroom. 
You watch as she leaves and you feel a warmness enclosing your heart. You were immensely grateful for Bada. You were slowly recovering and Bada was determined to do all that she could to make the healing process more comfortable for you. You remember waking up one night to see your girlfriend curled up onto a chair beside you as she slept, her hand outstretched and resting on top of yours. You remember the way the nurses sang Bada’s praises as she would visit everyday without fail, bringing you home cooked meals and occasionally more flowers to replace the ones prior. You remember the way she would subtly glance at you - worry deep in her eyes. Bada thought that you didn’t notice, but you did. 
Bada wished that she could take away all of your pain, she wished that she could bear it all instead of you. You knew this. You knew that your girlfriend would gladly switch places with you if it meant your happiness. That is why you allowed her to dote on you the way she did. You allowed her to guide your waist, you allowed her to sweep you off your feet and you allowed her to gently wash your body - as she was currently doing. 
You sat in the bathtub as Bada held the shower head, directing its flow of warm water onto your skin. Her movements were deliberate and gentle, careful to avoid hurting you as her free hand guides your sponge, leaving a trail of lathered soap along your body. She then gently massages your scalp, her long fingers intertwined with your hair as the shampoo bubbles into foam and the fruity aroma of citrus fills the air. 
You hum and your eyes flutter shut. “Thank you, baby.” 
“Anything for my angel.” 
You now lay on the bed with Bada’s long arms flexed around you, holding you from behind. You feel soft plump lips brush against your neck and feel Bada’s warm breath dance along your skin. She mutters softly, “You hungry ?”
You shake your head, eyes blinking shut as you slide your hand over hers and pull her ever closer to you. 
“No. Just wanna lay here with you.”
Bada lays pressed up behind you and you interlock your fingers over hers. 
“Then we’ll lay here for as long as you want.”
You smile and your body relaxes in her gentle embrace.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” You say softly.
Bada observes you with tenderness and kisses the back of your head.
“I’ll always take care of you.”
Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight , @nimxie , @badasgff [Open]
292 notes · View notes
fortunekookie07 · 5 months
Text
Alright, I am redeeming myself with this one! All the sappy mushy stuff coming your way!
Confessions in the Rain
Zayne had to admit to himself that he was tired. He couldn't even remember how you had gotten to this point in the first place. It was like the universe had set you to forever misinterpret him. Yet there you stood, face red in anger and eyes watery from un-shed tears.
"Why don't you just admit you hate me already, Zayne? I don't understand how you could even say that to me. I'm doing the best I can." Ahh there it was, a single tear had escaped your control and was rolling down your cheek.
He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. "Don't bother, I know when I'm not wanted. You've made that painfully clear. I'll look for another Doctor!" You're almost shouting by the end of your words as you spin around and run from his office.
You run right past the nurse's station, ignoring them all staring at you. They'd never seen you anything but cheerful in the years you'd been coming. One of them even stood up hand reached out, but you're already gone.
The receptionist tries to stop you as well, but you don't hear her warning that it is pouring outside. You don't care. You have stopped paying attention to your surroundings. Eyes too blurry to see clearly anymore. Whether from rain or crying you don't know.
As you're about to step into the parkinglot you miss the edge of the sidewalk and go sprawling to the ground. Scraping your palms in the process. You land with a grunt. Your palms are bleeding now, but still you don't care. You sit up on your knees crying harder.
You're still sitting there crying when splashing footsteps come in your direction, and your name is called. "Come on, get up off the ground. It's pouring out here. You could catch a cold or pneumonia." Zayne has come after you, of course he did. He had a reputation to maintain after all. "No!" You yell back at him, swatting his hands when he tries to help you stand.
"If I'm sooo much trouble, then don't bother anymore. I'm not your responsibility. Just go away!" You swat his hands again. "You silly girl," Zayne says. softly grasping your arms and forcing you to stand. He holds you to him. Not minding your squirming and attempts to push him away. His voice rumbles in your ear as he speaks again. "Why do you always misunderstand me? You've been like that since we were kids." You freeze at his words, tears still sliding down your cheeks and washed away by the rain.
"Wh-what?" Your voice is shaky from crying. "I have never cared that you cause me trouble, trouble me more. Turn my entire life upside down. I don't care, as long as it's you. Let me take care of you, I've always wanted to." He pauses for a breath. Zayne has never said so many heartfelt words to you before.
"I just wish that you would not take what I say the wrong way. I decided to become a cardiac surgeon for you. I wanted to find a cure for your heart condition. You are the drive behind my every action. Don't you know that yet?" You look up into his hazel eyes, burning with the intensity of his emotions.
"I'm always worried about you, you're job is so dangerous, but you disregard my worry and dive headlong into danger every day. I know I can't stop you or hold you back. Just don't push me away again." He's pleading now. Zayne has never, ever done that for anyone. You try to squash the feeling in your heart again. You have always suppressed your feelings, certain he would never return them.
"Why, why would you go so far for me? Is it because we're childhood friends?" Zayne closes his eyes and drops his head a long sigh coming from him.
"You're so silly, why are you so silly. Fine, I'll spell it out for you then." He takes a breath, "because I love you." He looks into your eyes with finality. There is no way you could possibly misunderstand that.
Tears well up to your eyes again. "Y-you do??" Zayne gently grabs bot side of your face. He rubs circles on your cheeks with his thumbs as he stares into your eyes. "I've always loves you, ever since we were children." He says quietly. You grab his tie and stand on your toes pulling him down to your level before you can kiss him.
Zayne is surprised, his eyes going wide before he returns the kiss. After a minute you pull back and smile. "I love you too."
You're both completely drenched by the rain and the receptionist was standing in the entrance with a scolding look and towels. When you finally start back towards the hospital she's fussing about how wet you both are and the water you're tracking across the floor.
She wastes no time throwing towels over both you and Zayne and ushering you into bathrooms to have a warm shower and put on dry clothes. Despite all this, you can't get the silly grin off your face. Your heart is elated, and you feel like you're soaring high above the storm clouds. You hope that you never come back down from this feeling.
171 notes · View notes
ironstrange1991 · 5 months
Text
A Night Like No Other
+18 Smut
Tumblr media
Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Female!Reader
Synopsis: It's Valentine's day night and you prepare a special night for your Stephens.
Word Count: 9,5k
Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics, a little jealousy, mostly brain rot SMUT: oral sex with male and female receiving, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, creampie, cum eating (There's probably more but I don't remember)
A/N: I'm so happy to finally be posting this fic. I know it's two months late, but I've put so much work into it that I really can't believe it's ready. I really hope you guys like it and have a great read ;)
Tumblr media
"Not this one." You murmured, looking at your endless collection of heels in your closet. "No, definitely not this one. Maybe… this one." You took a pair of red sandals in your hands, but then changed your mind when your eyes found the perfect pair you knew you were looking for. A pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps.
You stood on tiptoe to reach them and then you smiled mischievously to yourself heading to the bedroom bench and put them on. It had been a while since you wore those and you couldn't deny that you felt so powerful in them.
You folded your legs on the bench, positioning your feet so that your heels were clearly visible and took a photo, sending it directly to your three main contacts and giggling to yourself while writing the most cliché pick-up line you could think of at that moment.
WHEN YOU GUYS GET HOME TONIGHT, THIS IS ALL I'LL BE WEARING. ♥️
You replicated the message to the other two Stephens, reading it out loud to make sure the message was clear enough: You were waiting for the three of them that night to celebrate Valentine's Day.
You remembered perfectly the fiasco that was the last one. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but it definitely could have been a lot better. It had all happened because you weren't clear enough about what you wanted for the night, or at least you convinced yourself that it was your fault. You found you always put the blame on yourself so you didn't need to blame one Stephen or the other, but the truth was that navigating between the ego and jealousy of the three of them was the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your life.
It didn't take long for your cell phone to buzz with a response.
I WOULD ENJOY SO MUCH MORE IF THE SURPRISE WAS JUST FOR ME, BUT I CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME TONIGHT.
You didn't need to read the name at the top of the message to know it was Supreme, but even if it was hidden behind jealousy, you could capture the anxiety he felt about returning home and it made you smile from ear to ear. God, you had been with the three Stephens for a little over a year and a half, but you seriously doubted you would ever get used to the way they made you feel. Every time they came home you felt butterflies in your stomach, each loving message made your heart flutter in your chest. It was beautiful and scary at the same time.
You left your shoes on the floor next to the bench and went back to the closet, slipping into jeans and a jumper.
As you were grabbing your bag and keys and heading to the doors to leave you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening and a smile played on your lips before you saw it was just Wong.
"You shouldn't look so disappointed every time I come in. It's offensive." He said. You never knew when Wong was being serious or not, so you rushed to defend yourself.
"Today is Valentine's Day. I have reasons to be anxious for my boyfriends to get home."
Wong nodded as he dragged some boxes and then closed the portal. "Good thing you reminded me. That's reason enough for me not to want to be less than half a planet away from this Sanctum tonight. As if three Stranges wasn't reason enough."
"You say that, but I know deep down you can't live without Stephen, Wong." You smirked, unable to hold your tongue.
He scoffed "Yeah, right. Defender isn't that bad. The other two are the problem."
"Do not tell me that." You agreed "I'm going to the grocery store to get some things to prepare dinner. Do you want me to bring you something? I'm going to go near the Sandwich bar that sells that tuna melt that you love so much..."
"It's very kind of you to offer, but unfortunately - or fortunately - I'm returning to Kamar Taj."
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."
"Bye."
When you parked in parking lot you heard your cell phone ringing and ran to answer it when you saw Stephen's name on the display.
"Hello you"
"Sending indecent photos to distract me from work. You should be embarrassed, sweetheart."
"Really? And what's indecent about the photo of my feet wearing those shoes?"
You can almost see him smirking on the other end of the line before replying, "Other than the message you sent with it, you mean?"
You giggled to yourself "And how effective was my attempt to make you want to come home sooner?"
"Hm, very effective."
You were surprised by the sound of a horn and two drivers fighting each other.
"Where are you?" Stephen asked.
"Walmart’s parking lot. I came to get some things to prepare for our romantic Valentine's Day dinner that you guys have been owing me since last year."
"That's great. And how romantic will this dinner be?" He teased.
"Very romantic. The kind where you have to dress all nice for me and wear that cologne of yours that I love."
"Noted. It's a shame I'm going to have to share you tonight, I'd much rather have you all to myself."
You found yourself rolling your eyes and agreeing one hundred percent with Wong, Stephen and Supreme were indeed the problem.
"Behave yourself" You scolded him, taking your bag and walking towards the store entrance. "It's important for me to have you three tonight. I've wanted this for so long..."
"You just had us together last week" He groaned in frustration.
"I'm not talking about... sex, Stephen" You had to lower your voice to say the word as you picked up the cart and headed towards the produce section.
"Really? I must have been fooled by the photo and message you sent half an hour ago."
"Shut up. Of course sex is a big part of tonight, but it's not just about that. It's about being together, talking, listening to music and having good wine."
Stephen hummed "Romance."
"Exactly. Just because you've already won over the girl doesn't mean you don't need to be romantic anymore, Stephen."
He chuckled "I leave the romanticism to Defender, he's better than me at that... and pretty much everything else apparently."
You sighed, finishing picking up the vegetables and heading towards the refrigerators where you hoped to find a good piece of meat to roast with them.
"I love you, Stephen, but please, no display of jealousy tonight. Please?"
"Okay, I'll behave, I promise."
"Thank you."
"I need to go. See you tonight, love."
"See you, Steph."
You turned off your cell phone and put it in your pocket and dedicated yourself to getting the rest of the things that were missing and walked towards the cashier.
...
You weren't exactly a great cook like Defender, but you always had a willingness to learn and some skill so you could even say that you were good in the kitchen.
You chopped the vegetables that consisted of carrots, onions, green beans, broccoli and tomatoes and dedicated yourself to seasoning the meat and put everything together in a pan wrapped with aluminum foil and put it in the oven for what you knew would be at least 2 hours.
While you waited, you decided to take a shower and took the opportunity to shave every inch of your body to make it smooth to the touch. You blow-dried your hair and used a styling mousse and put it in curlers. You took the opportunity to do all the steps of your skin care and applied lotion all over your body, taking the opportunity to use some body oil to give your skin a little shine. You didn’t even notice time passing while you were distracted taking care of yourself and being surprised by the alarm you had set on your cell phone so as not to let you forget about the roast in the oven.
You put on a robe and went downstairs.
The roast was practically done, so you got rid of the aluminum foil, drizzled the meat with more olive oil and just a little fleur de sel and returned to the oven to brown.
When you heard your cell phone buzzing you wiped your hands and rushed to read the message and smile to yourself feeling your heart fluttering in your chest.
ALWAYS A TEASE, BABY. CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME, JUST A FEW MORE MINUTES AND I'LL BE IN YOUR LOVELY ARMS. LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
You dedicated yourself to preparing the sauce for your pasta and left the pan full of water and salt on the stove, but besides that, everything needed to be put on hold because it was already past 6pm and you knew they would arrive at any moment and although the dinner was an important part of your evening, you were determined that sex should come first.
You turned off the roast, but kept it in the oven and prepared the table with a beautiful red tablecloth, positioning the plates and cutlery, glasses, and, of course, the candlesticks. A romantic dinner needs candlelight.
Once everything was organized, you went upstairs to finish getting ready. You let down your hair that fell in perfect waves to the middle of your back and put just a little gloss on your lips deciding that there was no reason to wear makeup since soon you would be with your face being pushed into the mattress. You smiled mischievously to yourself feeling the desire built inside you. You put on your heels and kept your promise not to wear anything other than them, keeping only the robe on until at exactly 7pm you heard the familiar squeak of a portal.
You smiled, feeling your cheeks get slightly warm and, taking off your robe, you left the room towards the entrance hall.
...
Stephen smiled to himself as he read the text you sent him. He would have replied it instantly if he hadn't been stuck in a meeting with the Avengers. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were going over all the details about the next mission and although Stephen knew the importance of resolving the problem as soon as possible, he was not at all happy about having to participate.
Supreme was at the meeting too, and Stephen could see the smile on his lips as he read a message on his cell phone that Stephen was sure was exactly the same as the one he had read. You wouldn't make the mistake of not being democratic in your provocation, not after the events of last Valentine's Day. It was extremely important to you that the three of them knew that you loved them equally.
Supreme quickly typed a response without bothering to be discreet, but Stephen preferred something more intimate, so he just put his cell phone back in the pocket of his robes.
"We will be in unknown territory, dealing with forces of which we have no knowledge..." Steve Rogers was pointing out the importance of concentrating on every detail of the plan, but was then cut off by Stark.
"Yeah, yeah, supernatural stuff. That's why we'll be taking with us not one, but two wizards."
Stephen rolled his lips, uncomfortable with the use of the wrong term. He wasn't a wizard and Stark knew that because he had already explained the difference a hundred times, but now Stephen was almost certain that Stark was referring to him that way to provoke him. Supreme, on the other hand, interrupted him, deciding to explain to the small Avengers audience.
"The correct term is sorcerer. Wizards are born with magic, we learned it with a lot of study and effort, although for us it came almost naturally."
Stark rolled his eyes, but continued with the explanation.
When the meeting ended Stephen managed to sneak into an empty room and call you. He wanted much more than just calling, he wanted to leave immediately, but first he needed to get back to Kamar Taj.
Once he and Supreme managed to leave the Avengers Tower, they headed directly there where they met with Wong and Defender and discussed matters relating to the maintenance of the Kamar Taj itself, the teaching and training of students, and the protection of the three Sanctums of power of the Earth. When the small informal meeting ended, Stephen looked at the clock realizing that it must already be almost 7pm in NY and was quick to decline Wong's offer to stay for tea.
"We have an appointment at home." Stephen explained evasively, but Wong smirked as if he knew more than Stephen could imagine.
"Sure, sure. Valentine's day and all. Y/n is planning a special night, I imagine."
Stephen nodded. "We'll talk tomorrow."
"You can call us if anything happens, as always." Defender added to what Supreme contradicted.
"Definitely not tonight. There are dozens of other masters you can call, Wong. We're off for the night and probably a good part of tomorrow as well."
Wong didn't bother to respond. He just closed some books that were on the table and organized them into a pile, picking them up and heading out the door.
"What a fucking day! I thought it would never end." Supreme complained.
"Let's go home" Defender said with a tired sigh and Stephen opened a portal being welcomed by the delicious smell of food and the realization of finally being home.
...
Defender Strange was sure that nothing in the world could be better than coming home and being greeted by his wife, but when he saw you coming down the stairs completely naked wearing only the heels you showed him in the photograph you sent earlier, he didn't know what to think. That fulfills all his fantasies.
You were beautiful. You are beautiful. The curvaceous body, the full breasts, the long hair cascading down to the middle of your back, little or no makeup other than a pink gloss on your lips and the typical smile of someone who promises and wants to be extremely provocative, but in reality it’s a shy little thing.
He didn't know how he was looking at you, much less how the other Stephens were reacting to that vision of paradise in front of them, but you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and your cheeks turned red.
"So?" Your voice sounded low.
Supreme took the initiative and approached you and touched your face affectionately and kissed your lips. Defender felt a pang of jealousy when you and Supreme were close, but he was used to not showing it and on the other hand - however contradictory it was - he couldn't deny that he liked seeing you with the other Stephens, that always turned him on.
"You look beautiful, honey."
Your cheeks turned a darker shade of red that Defender found charming.
"I confess the idea seemed sexier when I sent the message. Now I'm too self-conscious."
"You look beautiful" Defender and Stephen responded together and then laughed softly at the situation.
"Come here, give me a kiss, sweetheart. I loved the reception you prepared for us. You know I always love everything you do for us."
You took the hand he offered you and walked closer. Stephen grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to his lips and Defender felt his cock throb inside his pants. He wanted you so much. Ever since he saw that message, all he could think about was the moment he would have you on his lap riding him.
"I made dinner. Well, it's almost ready. There are still a few things to finish."
"I guess we can think about food later, don't you think?" Supreme suggested. "You have other needs that I want you to satisfy first." He smirked "That text... did things to me, honey."
Defender smirked. Supreme was so cheesy sometimes.
He finally approached you and touched your face.
"So bold sending us that photo when I know at home you're super shy, baby."
You blushed even more.
"Did you like it?"
"I loved the surprise. I loved that you prepared something special for our Valentine's Day. I love you so much, Y/n. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful for having you in my life."
You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Defender Strange... how can I not love you when you say those things?"
He chuckled watching you hold his hand and take Stephen's hand and adjust it to hold them in one hand, while taking Supreme's hand with the other "Come on, let's go up stairs."
...
The master bedroom, Stephen's room, was the largest room in the Sanctum. Supreme had a hard time accepting Stephen staying with it, but he was aware that it made sense. For better or worse, Stephen was the Doctor Strange of that universe. That room was the setting for almost every night you had sex together for obvious reasons, it was the biggest room, it had the biggest bed and it felt the most right somehow and Supreme felt the familiar twist in his stomach caused by anxiety when you led the three of them directly to that room.
It was something difficult to explain and he never talked about it with the other Stephens - although he was sure the others felt the same way - but the reality was that he loved sharing you. He loved watching the other Stephens fuck you even though it also filled him with jealousy. Jealousy was hot.
Supreme still remembered the first time, it was your birthday and you had sex together for the first time. It was unforgettable, but everyone was so nervous and insecure that it was not possible to fully appreciate the moment. Now it was different. Foursomes became a common thing in your lives and every time it was incredible. Supreme always had the best orgasms when you let him cum in your mouth while he watched Defender and Stephen fucking you. It was so fucking hot. He was sure he could get stressed and jealous sometimes, but he could never be bored with the life you led. He often felt like he was living inside a porn movie. In the best way.
"Tell me, honey, what do you want to do with us tonight?" He teased when he realized how unsure you were about your next steps.
You bit your lip and then glanced to the two levitation cloaks still tied to his and Stephen's shoulders.
"Could you leave us alone for a moment?" You asked, gently stroking his blue cloak.
The two sentient relics flew out the door and slammed the door on the way out. His cloaky looking particularly offended at being left out.
"I'm pretty sure he wanted to stay and watch." Supreme joked, drawing a soft laugh from your lips.
"He's a brat. So different from Cloaky."
"The relic acquires the owner's behavior." Stephen teased.
"It's explained then" You said, approaching Supreme and kissing him with the passion he would never get used to. Sometimes it was impossible to understand how you could love him so much when he knew how complicated he was. But you loved him and that was always very clear in the way you touched him and especially kissed him.
You broke the kiss and smiled at him, "I love you. I know I say it every day, but today it's even more important to say it."
Supreme opened his mouth to respond, but you were ripped away from him by Stephen's arms, who pulled you to his chest in a clear display of jealousy. You giggled. You loved that. Supreme knew very well. You hated it when they fought - and they fought all the time - but you loved it all the same. You loved the triple attention you received, the kisses, the caresses and vows of love you received every day.
"Now you're going to have to say that to me too, sweetheart. You know I'm a jealous man." Stephen teased and you let out small giggles.
You held his face in your hands and spoke softly. "And I thought Supreme was the most jealous of the Stephens."
"Don't underestimate me, love."
You smiled openly, "I love you, Steph. You know how much."
He smiled proudly, "Then show me, kiss me and call me what you call me when we're alone."
Supreme felt the familiar tightening in his chest that jealousy caused in him and you gave Stephen a reprimanding glare.
"Come on, sweetheart. They know."
Supreme rolled his eyes when you smiled in surrender and kissed Stephen hard.
"I love you Steph. My Stephen."
He smiled smugly, but it was cut off by your direct order. "Now get in that shower, because I love you, but you're all sweaty."
He chuckled nodding in agreement "Yes ma'am."
Supreme even tried to stop himself from laughing, but he couldn't. However, you approached him right away.
"You too, Stephen. You three are sweaty."
He smirked "Want me to get in the shower with him?"
Defender chuckled, but said nothing.
"The idea is temptingly sexy, but I think you'd better use your shower."
He agreed, but couldn't help but point out "I thought we would get straight to the best part, that you were missing us so much and couldn't wait to have us in your arms."
"I am and that was the idea, but reality often prevails over fantasy and the three of you are smelling the heat of Kathmandu."
Ouch. "Okay, I'm coming." He said surrendering. Stephen was already in the shower, the sound of the water indicating that Supreme was behind in the race to get back into your arms first.
...
You were super self-conscious about being the only naked person there and wearing those heels on top of that. The sexy image of the situation that popped into your head when you sent the text to them was long gone, but all it took was a smile from Defender to make you feel better.
"I'm still surprised by how naturally you can deal with the three of us, you know? It's almost as if you were made for us." He said pulling you into his arms.
"Almost?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, to which he smiled in surrender.
"Definitely made for us." He corrected and kissed you tenderly.
"Practice makes perfect."
"In our case, I would say that time has helped a lot. Do you remember last year?" He teased to which you grimaced.
"Don't even remind me."
He laughed softly "I'm going to take a shower too. Wait for me. Promise?"
You smiled throwing yourself onto the bed "I'll be right here. Don't be long."
You lay down on the bed, pulling Stephen's pillow close to your nose so you could bask in his scent and a victorious smile played on your lips as you realized for the thousandth time that you were about to go to bed with three Stephens. Sex was important. God, the sex was incredible, but what really enchanted you about it was the realization of being loved by Stephen. Some people are never loved, you were loved and not just once but three times and by the same man. That meant something.
Defender always talked to you about how he believed that the love you felt for each other went beyond the barriers of universes and you couldn't say how, but you were sure he was right. You loved Stephen the moment you first saw him and it was like that with Defender and Supreme and god help you, you would never say that to them, but if ten more Stephens appeared in your universe, you would have no choice but to love them too.
You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you even noticed that Stephen had gotten out of the shower, only realizing it when his baritone voice pulled you out of your reverie.
"A penny for your thoughts." He teased and you smiled, rolling over on the bed so you could see him. He was wet from the shower, the towel tied around his waist but hanging dangerously below his v line, his hair wet and carelessly pulled back.
"God, you're a beautiful bastard."
He raised his eyebrow and a cocky smile played on his lips.
"So that's what you were thinking about? How beautiful I am?"
You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Don't be cocky. Come on, put your tongue to do something more productive than bragging."
He threw himself on the bed, crawling over you and tickling the sides of your ribs, which made you giggle.
"No, please Steph, I can't..."
"Not so bossy now, are you?" " He teased "Then tell me how you want me to use my tongue then."
You held his face in your hands. “Like this.”
You kissed him hard and he hummed adorably on your lips, but soon after he took control of the kiss and started to grind an obvious erection on your thigh.
"Look what you do to me. You haven't even touched me yet and I'm already like this. To be honest, you've made me hard since you sent me that photo. You have no idea how much I wanted to abandon what I was doing and come home to fuck you."
You smiled smugly and kissed his lips again "It worked then."
"You have no idea" He said on your lips "But I would rather have this night just for the two of us."
You pouted "Behave. You know how important it is for me to have these moments for the four of us, especially on special dates like today."
He smirked "I know you're dirty and insatiable, that's why you need three of me to handle you."
You felt your face flush, but there was no reason to deny it. "It's true, but it's only because I love you so much. That's what I was thinking actually, how I love you so much to the point of loving three versions of you."
He kissed you and went back to grinding himself on your thigh. He was trying to hold back, but you knew he was dying to have you and knowing that made you feel so powerful.
"Sometimes I think I don't deserve so much love..."
"Shhh, of course you do. You deserve that and more. And you can accuse me as much as you want of being insatiable for wanting three of you, but we both know that you like sharing me in bed."
Now it was his turn to blush and that made a petulant smile appear on your lips.
"Do not tease me." He warned, but you weren't about to go back on your words.
"Why not? What are you going to do? Fuck me senseless? Hard and rough? Thank god, that’s what I want."
He held your chin tight. "That's what you're going to get if you don't behave."
"Then I won't behave." You threatened and Stephen pulled you into his lips, but the two of you were interrupted by the creak of the door opening and Supreme's voice.
"And why won't you behave, honey?" He asked and you just smiled watching him approach. He was only dressed in sweatpants and his face was slightly flushed showing that he had shaved before coming back to you. He threw himself on the bed and opened his arms waiting for you to throw yourself into them and Stephen rolled to the other side of the bed letting you have your moment together.
You hugged him and he wrapped you in his arms kissing you hard and then looked at Stephen waiting for an answer.
"She's being a brat and I warned her there will be consequences." Stephen informed Supreme and you laughed, turning to face him, but letting yourself be enveloped and pulled closer by Supreme's arms.
"Maybe I want to be punished." You confessed and Supreme groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"What did we do to deserve a girl like you, honey?"
You let out a small laugh "I hope you mean that positively."
He giggled "Always."
Stephen laughed softly and Supreme pulled you into his lips again. You let yourself be guided, your hands touched his face and a satisfied hum escaped your lips.
"You shaved. I prefer it like this." You said with a smirk to which he chuckled.
"You live with a Stephen who has a goatee and another who has a full beard but can't handle a little stubble?
You shook your head, stroking his face. "It's not the same. I like having a clean shaved Stephen." You rum your index finger on his chin "It's smooth"
Stephen giggled and you rolled closer to him pulling him to your lips “I like the differences.”
"Yeah, we know" They both laughed softly and you took turns holding their lips and hands and that felt like heaven to you. There was no other word to explain it.
Defender arrived a minute later, his hair loose as it rarely was and wearing a pair of pajama pants that made his v line and a prominent erection very visible. You wondered if he had been hard the whole time or if seeing you in bed with Stephen and Supreme had immediately left him in that state. You knew well that Defender liked to observe. All three liked it.
"We've been waiting for you, baby. Come here." You reached out to him and sat on the bed between the Stephens to welcome him with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he let himself be pulled on top of you, your legs opening for him to settle between them to which he moaned softly.
"She's so greedy" Stephen told Supreme "...and so fucking perfect. Fuck, sweetheart. I need you."
You smiled smugly on Defender's lips and gently pushed him to let you stand up.
"So tell me what you guys want. I confess I spent the day thinking about sucking your cocks."
"So fucking dirty." Defend hissed.
"She was never a saint, but I admit she got a lot worse with your arrival." Stephen replied with that beautiful smile on his lips.
You loved that. You loved it when they talked about you like that between them, you loved seeing them understanding each other and talking to each other as if they were a single person - which in fact they were - it was a strong turn on for you.
Supreme smiled seeming to read your mind. "I think she might start with that, don't you? I can only speak for myself, but I've been dying for a blowjob ever since I saw that text."
Stephen nodded "Yeah, me too. But I'm going to want more than a simple blowjob and she knows that."
Defender chuckled and you pouted feigning innocence.
"Are you going to let these two mean Stephens abuse me, baby?"
He cupped your face in his hands and hummed condescendingly, "More than that, baby. I'll love watching."
You could have cum with just those words. You were so wet between your legs that your thighs were sticking together and you could smell your arousal. All that teasing, the game you played was exactly what worked for you, it was what made you love having the three of them at the same time and it worked perfectly when they behaved themselves and tonight they were more than determined to behave, apparently.
"I think I saw a blush on these cheeks." Stephen teased and you stuck your tongue out at him.
"Shut up and get comfortable you three."
They laughed and got comfortable on the bed, sitting next to each other and that sight never failed to impress you. It was so pornographically glorious. You smiled to yourself and tied your hair in a bun with the same determination as a warrior preparing for a fight. You were definitely a woman on a mission.
"Come here, sweetheart, I want to be first." Stephen asked, extending his hand to you. You crawled over to him and kissed him sweetly and your hands freed him from the towel. He raised his hips enough for you to pull and throw it on the floor. He was so hard already. The tip was red and slightly sticky with precum. You couldn't resist, so you held him tight and kissed his head feeling your eyes close and a moan of satisfaction escape your lips as the other Stephens giggled.
"Don't get cock drunk yet, honey, there are two more cocks to suck." Supreme teased.
Stephen held your face, taking his cock in his hand and impatiently directing it into your mouth. "Take it, sweetheart. Give me a hard suck."
You opened your mouth big for him and did as he asked, emptying your cheeks to suck hard, which made him moan outrageously loud. "Oh yeah, sweetheart. Show me what you can do."
But he didn't give up control, on the contrary, he held the back of your head and pushed you against his dick making you swallow it whole and gag in the process.
"Look at that!" Supreme exclaimed and you couldn't see him now with your eyes closed, but you'd bet all your chips that he had his cock in his hands, jacking off as he watched. He was dirty like that, and you loved that about him.
You could barely breathe with your mouth stuffed with Stephen's cock like that, tears welled up in your eyes and ran down your face.
"She takes it so perfectly." Defender pointed out. "She was made for us, wasn’t she?"
Stephen moaned in satisfaction, taking his cock out of your throat to let you breathe.
"I could cum in your throat right now. That's how good this mouth in my cock feels, sweet girl."
You coughed and ran your hands over your face to wipe away the tears and smiled. "I love when you call me like that."
Stephen smirked, "Yeah? You love everything I do to you, sweetheart. Now come here and give me a kiss before I let you go with them."
You let yourself be pulled to his lips and kissed him hard, your fingers tangling in his hair.
"I love you." You said between his lips.
"I love you too. Go now and make me proud."
"Always" You assured, letting yourself be enveloped by Defender's arms. He kissed you hard. Harder than usual and his fingers tangled in your hair and your knees went weak.
"Seeing you with them drives me crazy, baby. I can't deny that I like this more than I should." He confessed in your ear, but loud enough for the others to hear.
"They like it too" You teased throwing a mischievous glance at the other two. "Let's give them something to watch."
Defender smirked letting you free him from his pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear and you doubted there was anything sexier than a handsome man wearing pants without underwear. You threw his pants on the floor and planted a kiss on his lips before spitting into your hand and holding him, moving up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.
One of the things that became increasingly clear to you as time went by was that they were different in almost every way even though they were the same person. With Defender what worked was calmness, glances, affection. He might fuck you harder eventually, but almost every time you made love it was slow, calm and delicious. And that was how he liked to be touched.
He bit his lip to hold back a moan when you bent down and gave a long lick from the base to the tip, stopping to flick your tongue on the head.
You smiled proudly. "Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear you. I like hearing how happy I'm making you." You asked, taking him in your mouth and sucking slowly, using your tongue all the time the way he liked.
He moaned louder, but still restrained. One of his hands grabbed your hair, but he didn't push. Defender never pushed. "So, so happy, baby. Shit... this lips feels so good wrapped around my cock like that."
You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth and you took it out of your mouth smiling your best smile at him. "Yeah? Your cock feels amazing pulsing in my mouth too. But I don't want you to cum yet, baby."
He shook his head "It doesn't matter, you know I have as many rounds as you want to give you."
"Shit, that sounded presumptuous even to us, but coming from him it sounds even weirder." Supreme teased, but Defender completely ignored him pulling you into his lips.
"Tell me you love me." He asked softly on your lips and you buried your face in his neck, surrendering to his charm.
"More than anything, baby. Love you so much."
Defender held your chin and kissed you softly. "Better not let Supreme hear that." He said with a provocative smile on his lips that wasn't really like him, but that made him even more handsome.
Impatient, Supreme took your hand pulling you from Defender's lap gently but insistently. "Come here, honey. I've waited too long."
You couldn't help but giggle at the serious way he said it. As if you were somehow making him suffer by waiting his turn.
You let yourself be manhandled and he positioned you straddling his lap. "Always you, isn't it, Supreme Strange?"
He smirked positioning his shaking hands to the sides of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss.
"You complain, but you love the way I am, honey."
You could have rolled your eyes, but you didn't want to provoke him so you didn't. "If what you want is for me to suck your cock, you should try to be less cocky."
He gave you that beautiful sideways smile of his, "But I know you want to blow me as much as I want it."
"Seriously, just for tonight, can't you be less of yourself, Supreme?" Stephen complained and although you weren't looking at him, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.
"You better get to work, honey."
You let out a small giggle and dismounted his lap, helping him get rid of the pants he was wearing and immediately took him in your hands. He was so deliciously hard for you, the tip wet with precum from being stimulated by his own hands. You licked the tip to savor the salty taste and this time you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back, but for an entirely different reason.
"Oh fuck, honey. Put it all in your mouth, please. Suck it hard, make me cum. I don't care. You know I'm going to stay hard for you anyway."
You did exactly what he asked, adding one hand to his balls, stimulating him as much as possible, rotating the other hand at the base while sucking and licking. Taking your time and enjoying it as much as him.
"So delicious... fuck, honey, keep going just like that. Gonna fill your mouth with milk. I spent all day thinking about doing that."
You hummed contentedly and went even deeper, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and hearing the sounds of approval from the other Stephens at the same time as you felt the mattress dipping and Stephen moving in your peripherals.
"Get your pretty ass up for me, sweetheart." Stephen asked, slapping your ass cheek and you obeyed, moaning loudly when you felt his tongue lapping your folds, the friction of his goatee making you see stars. You immediately started moving your hips against his mouth and he grabbed your thighs, correctly taking the action as encouragement.
Supreme grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed you against his cock making you swallow him completely.
"F-Fuck... take it, honey. Take all of it. Oh shit." He moaned loudly spilling down your throat and making your eyes water. He took his cock out of your mouth allowing you to vocalize the pleasure that Stephen's fierce tongue was providing you now that he was sucking your ass.
This was new for you and you didn't understand how it could be so pleasurable, but Stephen had the gift of addicting you to new and different things and you loved it. Sex with them could never get boring.
Supreme patted your cheek and ran his hand through the hair that insisted on falling across his forehead. "That mouth of yours is otherworldly, honey. I just put my dick inside it and I cum."
You smiled, but before you could respond a moan broke through your lips when Stephen added his fingers to the sum of the stimulation, penetrating you with them.
"That's it. Moan loudly for us. Let us hear how good it feels." Supreme teased, holding your chin with one hand and making you suck his index finger.
“Delicious,” Stephen rasped. "I could spend the whole night like this."
But contrary to what he said, he pulled away enough to direct his cock at your entrance and forced it slowly. "So fucking tight. No matter how many times I fuck this pussy, it's always so tight."
You moaned loudly feeling yourself being impaled by his cock and Supreme smirked at something Defender said and walked away letting him get closer to you.
"I want your mouth a little more, baby. Please." He asked, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You placed your hands on his thighs and took him in your mouth again, sucking voraciously. It was hard to be gentle when Stephen was fucking you so hard.
Defender took your hair in his hands and let himself be carried away by the moment. "Fuck baby, so good. You suck my cock so good."
You kept your eyes open to watch him, he had his eyes fixed on Stephen fucking you and you knew that was exactly what was making his dick throb so hard in your mouth. The obscenity of it all.
"Oh God, baby. I love watching you get fucked like this. So fucking hot."
Stephen slapped your ass in agreement. "Come on, sweetheart, suck his cock and make him cum in your mouth. I want to see it." He ordered, increasing the strength of his thrusts, which became increasingly irregular.
Defender moaned loudly and you felt his thighs shaking. "Oh baby... gonna cum... oh yeah baby, can I cum in your mouth?"
You hummed positively and a part of your brain thought it was cute that he had even bothered to ask.
"F-Fuck... oh come on baby... take it..." His voice sounded broken as hot cum filled your mouth. A lot of it.
"So fucking good..." He mumbled between moans, caressing your face and taking his cock out of your mouth. "Let me see it."
You obeyed, opening your mouth so he could see his cum inside and then swallowing and sticking your tongue out at him dramatically so he could see.
"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He murmured, bending down to kiss you and Stephen moaned loudly, giving two harder thrusts and then spilling himself inside you.
"Oh fuck, sweetheart... You're too good to be true." He confessed breathlessly and then pulled out. His cum dripping down your abused pussy.
Your legs shook and you fell face down on the mattress, but Supreme pulled you into his arms.
"Look what you do to us. It's impossible to last when you're so irresistible."
You smiled, pulling him to your lips. "Is this a complaint?"
You heard Defender and Stephen giggling and the sound filled your heart with such great love with the realization that you were having this moment together and they weren't fighting each other, on the contrary, you could swear that at that point they were practically united against you and you didn't know if you could take it.
"And what man would be crazy to complain about having a woman like you, honey?"
You pulled him back to your lips while squeezing your thighs together. They could have had theirs, but you needed to have yours and if possible, you wanted to have it more than once.
Supreme got the message quickly and got between your legs, spreading them with his arms and holding them open while he eat you. He didn't care that Stephen had cum in you seconds before and the notion of that only made the oral even more pleasurable. Your back arched and your eyes closed immediately and a pornographic moan escaped your lips. You could cum right then if he continued, but Supreme had other plans. He licked your ass, leaving enough saliva there and directed his dick at your entrance, penetrating it slowly.
You still remembered the first time you had anal, it was with Supreme and you were so uncertain about the whole thing, but now you loved it, you loved the strange sensation and the peculiar pleasure that took over once he was inside you. . You liked it so much that you wondered if there was something wrong with you since women aren't supposed to enjoy it that much.
Supreme moaned loudly, laying on top of you slowly and giving your body time to get used to the sensation, then he grabbed your thigh and pulled it so that you intertwined your legs around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper.
"Oh Stephen... feels so good." You confessed, wrapping your arms around him. "Move, please."
He did as you asked, moving slowly at first, but gradually increasing the intensity of his thrusts until he reached a frantic rate.
"Y-Yes, oh yes, Steph, just like that, fuck me just like that..."
He took your lips in a desperate kiss, fucking you at the same rhythm incessantly, the bed creaked, the headboard hit the wall and your moans were so loud. Next thing you know, you had one of your hands between you rubbing your clit to get as much stimulation as possible and your legs were shaking and you felt like you were about to cum. No one could be more sexually fulfilled than you at that moment, but that was exactly the problem, you didn't want to finish, not yet.
"Wait... Stephen... wait. Gonna cum... don't make me cum yet."
He stopped and pulled out with a cocky smile plastered on his lips. "That good, uh? Want me to stop for a bit and let the others have fun with you now?"
You nodded biting your bottom lip. Something about the way he said it sounded so dirty.
He rolled to the side running his hand through his hair "You can barely handle one, how can you handle the three of us?" He teased and you found the strength within you to tease back "I can take it. I always do."
He chuckled in satisfaction at your response and you opened your arms allowing Defender to snuggle into them.
"Baby, I need you. Tell me you're ready for me again."
He let himself be hugged and kissed you hard. His lips moved up to your ear and he confided. "I haven’t even softened, baby."
You pulled him to your lips again, but pushed him away so you could get on top of him. He hummed contently letting you take control and direct him inside you. It was to be imagined, given the rivalry that existed between them, that Defender would not like to be in a submissive position when the other Stephens were around. In fact, it was like that at first, but now he didn't care and you were sure the others loved watching. Before Defender you weren't used to being in that position, but with him you got a taste for it and there was nothing in the world that made you feel more powerful than riding him.
His shaking hands grabbed your waist and he moaned loudly feeling you sink down onto his dick. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him to your lips, kissing him desperately as you began to move up and down and gyrating your hips sensually as you did so. You lolled your head back, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure you felt and Defender took the opportunity to bury his face between your breasts. The other Stephens watched attentively and Stephen, unable not to intervene, grabbed your chin and kissed you.
You kept your pace fast and steady, your body responding to the sensations in all the right ways.
"Oh god, baby, cock feels so good inside me, make me wanna cum so hard." You confessed between moans and Defender pulled you back to his lips.
"Cum for me then, baby. Don't hold back. We've all had one, it's your turn now. You can use me to have it. Fuck me any way you want."
How sweet. He was always so sweet and wonderful all the time that it didn't surprise you that the others were a little more jealous when compared to him and to be honest, you loved it.
"Oh shit, baby. Gonna cum." You moaned loudly, riding him faster and harder, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your stomach.
You placed your hands on his shoulders and your pussy contracted tightly around him.
"Fuck baby... squeezing me so hard... gonna make me cum too."
You were so lost in your pleasure that you could barely form a complete sentence "Please... with me."
Defender moaned loudly, wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you move on top of him and your hands got lost in his hair, pulling him to your lips in one last act of passion and ecstasy until you both came together amidst moans and loudly breathing.
You both came down from your high slowly and there was a proud smile on Defender's lips. He kissed you gently and helped you dismount him.
"Come here, sweetheart." Stephen asked, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. "Let's play a little, what do you think? Me, you and Supreme. You always feel so tight with two dicks inside you."
You bit your bottom lip feeling your cheeks flush, but you let yourself be manhandled. He positioned you on top of his dick and entered you slowly. The squelching sound it made from you being filled with cum was so obscene and so good. You moaned loudly. It didn't matter that you had just cum, you wanted more.
Stephen kissed you and moaned into the kiss. Supreme came from behind, positioning himself in the best way to make the three of you comfortable. The tip of his cock poked your ass and you closed your eyes feeling him slowly penetrate you. It was always a strange sensation, you felt too full and uncomfortable before the pleasure appeared, but it appeared and was always very strong.
"Oh yeah, honey, such a tight ass... squeezing my dick so hard."
You moved slow. Stephen held your waist and helped you slowly move up and down and Supreme carefully moved back and forth. The thing with double penetration is that it's not like it is in the movies, for all parties involved to feel pleasure you need to do it slowly, but once you learn how to do it, it's addictive.
"Oh Stephen... feels so good."
You let yourself be pulled into Supreme's lips and then back into Stephen's as they both thrust into you at a lazy, infectious pace. You loved being fought over like that, there was something devilishly sexy about taking turns between two men's lips. "So fucking good... fucking me... good."
The two laughed softly, observing that you could barely formulate a sentence at that point.
Supreme placed one hand on the headboard and the other on your shoulder and increased the strength of his thrusts and you and Stephen moaned together with the increased stimulation.
"Shit, gonna cum in your ass, honey. Its too good... too tight... I can't..."
He moaned loudly and the grip of his hand on your shoulder also tightened and you felt him cuming inside you.
"F-fuck yes..." He gasped "Oh shit." He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a hard kiss and then pulled out and threw himself on the bed.
Stephen took the opportunity to hold you around your waist and place you underneath him with your face on the mattress and your ass in the air. He quickly penetrated you again and you moaned loudly feeling the delicious sensation of being fucked from behind. But he wasn't gentle, he was too far beyond that, too lost in his own pleasure.
Thrust after thrust he fucked you, pushing your face against the mattress and moaning loudly, completely surrendered, looking for his release.
"You love this, don't you?" He teased "Tell me how much you love taking it from behind."
You moaned loudly feeling like you were close to cumming again. That was something that before the Stephens you thought was impossible, but anal orgasms were possible and were usually the most intense ones you had.
"Steph... gonna make me cum... again." You confessed, completely surrendering to him.
"Yeah? Are you going to cum with my dick in your ass? So fucking dirty. You love being a dirty girl for us, don't you? That's why you sent that text to the three of us, because you wanted to be fucked like that... like a fucking whore."
“Y-yes” You stammered feeling his teasing push you over the edge.
"Then be a good girl and cum with daddy's cock in your ass. Show the other Stephens how much you enjoy it. Come on, sweetheart, I'm right behind you. I'm going to fill this sweet ass with cum."
You moaned loudly, letting yourself be pushed towards the oblivion of everything earthly and launching yourself into ecstasy. Your legs shook beneath him, your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm.
Stephen gave three more thrusts and stopped completely, moaning and letting himself spill inside you. When he was done he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed the top of your head gently and then pulled out and rolled it to the side.
It took you a few seconds to catch your breath and finally turn around and face the ceiling with a silly smile on your lips.
"This was amazing." You praised before giving in to the giggles. "I doubt there is a woman in this world who is more sexually fulfilled than I am tonight."
The three giggled and you felt yourself being pulled into Stephen's arms. He kissed the top of your head before pulling you to his lips. "I can say the same, sweetheart. No man could be happier than we are to have you."
You wrapped your arms around him and felt the tiredness domination you.
“Tired?” Stephen teased.
You smiled lazily  “ I think I need a shower, I'm dripping cum."
The three of them burst into laughter and Defender took the lead, extending his hand to you and helping you stand up.
...
"The pasta is ready, baby, we can add it to the sauce now." Defender reported being extremely helpful. He had offered to help you finish dinner while the other Stephens were in the shower and you couldn't refuse to have that sweet domestic moment with him.
"The sauce is already boiling. Can you add the pasta for me while I stir?"
He did as you asked and came back with the parmesan cheese he had magically grated for you to use.
Without holding back, he stole a strand of pasta to try. "It's divine, love. I love the food you make, the seasoning you add... divine." He praised searching for your lips. You kissed him softly and then pulled away, handing him the platter with the roast and vegetables. "Can you take this to the table for me, baby?"
He nodded, taking the dish and walking away and you couldn't help but laugh when you realized how you both were dressed. So different from what you had planned and yet so perfect. He was shirtless, barefoot, with his hair in a bun and was only wearing pajama pants.
"What is it?" He asked confused.
"Nothing" You said "I just realized that we're going to have our romantic dinner dressed like we're having a sleepover."
He smirked "I like seeing you in my old t-shirts."
You smiled hearing the familiar chatting of the other Stephens approaching. "And I love wearing them. Now take these and come back to get the pasta."
He smiled “Yes, love.”
Tumblr media
Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!
BACK TO MULTIPLE STEPHENS MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney
@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks
@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart @asgards-princess-of-mischief @slytherinqueen4life @spideybv28 @pxanonymous16-blog
168 notes · View notes