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#but how do i do it? be like i have tea and then shell be like ooh girl spill (literally those will be the words used haha) and then what??
doom-dreaming · 6 months
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how do i tell my mother that coming into my room calling me "lazybones" if i'm still in bed at any time past 7 a.m. for YEARS has done near-irreparable damage to my self-esteem and created shame about being able to just fucking relax?
#but she can rot on the couch playing mahjong on her ipad all day it's fine#i don't feel at all angry when i come home dirty and tired from work#and she tells me i'm making dinner#while she sits curled up on the couch with a cup of tea and a book#sure mom. let me just take a shower and i'll get right on that#but please do let me know how hungry you are five times while i'm trying to scrape together some energy#i need to get out of this house#some small part of me kinda hopes she just doesn't come back from vacation#and. and .#as i'm giving her a VERY NICE vacation pedicure last night#she goes 'hey could i maybe use your hardcase on this trip? it'd just be easier in a customs search'#oh the brand new really nice hardcase suitcase that you got me for my birthday? that one?#not one of the four other suitcases you own?#sure. go ahead and take it#anythign else i can get you queen?#my belongings are not my own#my life is not my own#my time is not my own#yes i know i have control issues but i think i've earned them a little bit#i never learned to set boundaries and could never say no to my mom without being reprimanded#and i feel like a shell of a person because she's belittled my individuality if it doesn't conform to her worldview#and i feel like i'm dangling this husk in front of people and saying 'yep this is me. my whole essence'#all because i can't say no to her taking my fucking suitcase like it was never really mine to begin with#like she's just entitled to all my shit#i'm fine. i have a meeting with my therapist next week. i'm fine.
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luveline · 21 days
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spencer x reader where she kisses his forehead and he’s 🥹🥹
“Spencer, are you dead?” 
Spencer ignores your question by accident. Heavy head in hand, he’s slowly sinking closer and closer to the hotel breakfast table to rest. His neck twinges with the effort it takes to stay up. 
“Spencer,” you say more sharply. 
His eyes track like the air is honey. He settles on your sluggishly while offering no greeting, tiredness pulling at him. “My eyes hurt,” he offers. 
“Make you some tea.” 
“Um, okay.” He’s disappointed when you leave, then dozing, face pressed to his desk as itchy eyes press along lids. It feels as though his eyelashes have turned inward. 
You return with a cup. Spencer grabs it blindly, lifts his head to squint one eye open. “What?” he asks. 
There isn’t tea in the cup. There are tea bags, two of them, wetted and leaking tan beige along the white china of the mug. Distinctly no tea. You must be tired too. 
“They’re for your eyes, Spence. They’ll make your eyes hurt less. The caffeine restricts your blood vessels to calm the inflammation, and the tea itself soothes sore skin.” 
“How do you know that?” he asks. 
You rest a hand on his shoulder. “I read about it in a book of modern home remedies. It really works. Here, can you tip your head back?” 
Spencer is very, very tired, but your voice is nice, your fingertips gentle against his neck, so he tips his head back. He doesn’t know how terrible he looks, having forgotten his untucked shirt, his rumpled sweater vest, his hair sticking up all over the place. 
“Close your eyes,” you murmur. 
Spencer shuts them. 
“It’s cold,” you warn, “but it’ll feel nice.” 
Spencer doesn’t care. He waits for you to move. The tea bags you place on his closed eyes feel cold and at first they sting just a touch, perhaps tea finding its way through his lashes, and he can’t confess to noticing a difference in soreness. 
“Hey… what’s this? It looks like it hurts?” you ask, drawing a short line over the side of the bridge of his nose. There’s an indent there that feels like a bruise.
“I fell asleep at my desk with my glasses on,” he says. “They dug in.” 
“You were up late, I’m guessing. Maybe you should go back to the room.” 
“No, I can’t. I’ll be okay. Thank you for the… tea.” 
Your hand rests tentatively against his cheek. He can’t open his eyes to see what you're feeling, and he doesn’t need to. There’s emotion to be felt in your slow strokes, how your thumb rests along his jaw as your nail scratches to the top of his ear, then behind the shell of it. It’s intimate enough to summon a different kind of tiredness. Exhaustion swapped for content. He could sleep in the curve of your palm all day. 
“You’re welcome,” you say. “I’m gonna take them off for a second to check the damage.” 
You take them. Your breath draws near. 
A warmth presses to his forehead atop his left eyebrow. Spencer doesn’t know what it is until your nose graces just above it, and your lips part —it’s a kiss. You’re kissing him sweetly, your fingers sewing through his hair. 
He peels his sore eyes open to look at you. You lean back as unhurried as you’d ferried forward, your hand cradling the nape of his neck. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask. 
Spencer stares up at you. In that moment, tired, aching, and balmed, he’s completely in love with you. You must see a little of it, your lips parting again in an unnamed emotion. It’s sheer luck that you’re the only one awake with him, because if any of his teammates saw the way he was looking at you they’d never let him forget it. And, he gets to see your reaction. Your partial smile. 
“Did that help?” you ask. 
You must mean the tea. “I feel better.” 
“Yeah? Do you…” Your voice turns to cashmere, a thread of bemusement tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Would another one be okay?” 
Spencer can only nod as you wrap your arms around him and position your mouth at the soft skin where his hair meets his forehead. When you kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut. 
“You really need some help with your insomnia,” you murmur. 
Spencer wonders if maybe you’d want to be that help. You must have melatonin in your kisses.
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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Okay so I have a small req (Honestly this is more of an hc than anything-but I need to share cuz vshvskhbjks) I feel like Spencer is genuinely so perverted when it comes to his girlfriend??? like if you leave your panties lying around he IS swiping them and he is not ashamed like...he may not do much in public but in private he will grab a handful of your ass or tits when he can like.....In the early seasons, I feel like he'd be a little ashamed but s13+? hell no, especially when it comes to him getting caught being a lil perv gfkjk (FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF IT ISN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA!!!!)
A/N; Gave this one some ✨️angst✨️ just because I could, but YES TO PERVERTED SPENCER!! YES INDEED!!
Summary; You get to know your coworker well after a decade on the job. You get to know just how much he loves to touch you and just how much you enjoy his hands on you as well. But after prison, something is changed in Spencer Reid.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ Minors DNI. Masturbation (M, F), oral sex (F), hand job, mentions of somewhat public indecency, groping, grinding, etc, unprotected sex, PinV, creampie, dirty talk.
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Spencer Reid had always been a pervert, and it took you six long, quiet months to figure that out. 
When you'd joined the BAU after years of begging for a chance, you were a team expecting field-hardened agents, and for the most part, that's what you'd got. Hotchner was as bureaucratic as they came, Rossi had been at the institution as long as the concept of the BAU had, and the others had some serious qualifications to their names. 
But Spencer Reid was the outlier. He was a bit timid in front of the others, always seemed to put his foot in his mouth when it mattered most and seemed to be patronized around the office a bit until it came to his intellect. 
And you didn't quite know how to act around him until you got to know him very, very well. 
A case in some state or the other had called for emergency motel rooms, unfortunate as some Nascar show or the other was rapidly filling up hotel room spaces everywhere. So, as the two youngest members of the team (and by far the most eager to please), you'd ended up rooming together in a double twin room. 
“So, Spencer, what do you do at night to wind down? Relax after a case?” The motel door had swung shut loudly behind you an awkward three minutes before you started the conversation, and you needed something to break the awkward tension in the room. 
“I… read, I guess?” 
“You're always reading. What book is it today? Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy? Maybe Dickens?” 
In response, he'd just awkwardly held up the book cover for a minute, leaving you to nod and let the conversation peter out. It wasn't the first time one of your conversations with him died out due to a mutual lack of skill, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
Giving in, you grabbed your bag and headed for the small bathroom, a strategic retreat to pass the time without having to acknowledge that the teams resident genius was ignoring you. 
Because he definitely was. 
You'd been on the team for six months, and you couldn't quite figure out why he'd never so much as asked you how your day was. He'd be jovially talking with one agent or the other and would clam up as soon as you joined into the fray. 
Spencer Reid was stuck in his shell, you'd been told. He was someone who didn't open up very easily, especially after his first few, very rough years in the BAU. 
You let each concern roll off your back as you showered and cleaned yourself up after a day of dumpster diving for clues. Your next aim was getting out of the shower, dried, and into bed before you felt the weight of his disinterest in you settle any heavier. 
“Hey  I'm all done now, and I'm gonna hit the hay, so bathrooms all yours.”
“Thanks,” he said and immediately strode in, shutting the door behind him without another word. 
You wished you could shake the man. You weren't exactly used to being so pointedly avoided by a peer, and it was honestly making you feel rather indignant. You wanted to grab his attention and hold it any way you could, so much so that your palms started itching. 
The sounds of Spencer's shower interrupted your attempts to rest, so you set about organizing your things instead. Folding your shirts, you placed them in your go bag, taking inventory on how many fresh outfits you had left and how much laundry you'd have left to do when the case ended. 
It could've been the haze of sleep, or perhaps just an early warning bell, but no matter how many times you counted, you always came up short by one pair of panties. It took another minute of blinking out the sleep in your eyes, becoming suddenly alert again, that you realized it was the pair of panties you'd been wearing before your shower. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, trying to fill the deep pit of embarrassment opening in your stomach before it swallowed you from the inside out. “Fuck.” 
When in doubt, you found it best to curse at least twice. 
And just like that your coherent thoughts went out the window - a morning, afternoon and evening doing manual labor under the guise of a nice desk job would do that to any girl - and you found yourself opening the door to the bathroom without knocking first or even remembering Spencer Reid's presence in the room at all. 
He froze in shock as you came face to face with him, shirt and pants open, his long cock in his hands and his face flushed with erotic shock as he rubbed up and down the length of his cock. 
“Shit, fuck, Spencer I'm sorry I was- are those my panties?” 
Rather unabashedly, your eyes hadn't left his crotch as he froze in fear at your intrusion. 
“I'm not a pervert!” He shouted, still unable to let his dick go, so close to bliss as he was. 
“You're madturbating into my panties, Spencer. What other label would you put on that?” 
“You're really hot. It's hard to ignore. I don't usually do this, but they were in here on the floor, and I thought about taking them back out to you, but then you'd think I was a pervert for touching your underwear and then I imagined you thanking me and putting them back on right in front of me and my cock was so hard and you said you were going to sleep. Did you know most men masturbate eight times a week on average? Me doing this once while sharing a room with you for a week isn't statistically …that …bad. Why are you doing that?”  
You'd been done listening halfway through and had somehow found yourself sinking to your knees. He'd rested his body against the bathroom sink, so you organized yourself in front of him, staring up at him innocently as you wrapped your fingers around his hand. 
“I want to see what it was you were doing with my panties, Spencer,” You moved his hand up and down his length, slowly dragging the lacy material across each inch. “Please let me see.” 
The empty shower kept flowing and the room was thick with steam as you kept up a steady pace rubbing up and downs Spencer's cock. 
A sense of achievement hit you with each moan and gasp he let out. Every time his hips thrust up into your hand, each time his hand stroked your hair in thanks for your copious attention. 
You'd finally gotten through to Spencer Reid in a way that you were about to make sure was mutually beneficial. 
His moans got louder and harder to conceal with a bite of the lip as he got closer to cumming. He really was a pervert, letting his coworker jerk him off in a motel bathroom while on a case. He was practically begging for release. 
“Cum for me Spencer. Make my face pretty, please please please.”
His eyes shot open wide as you stuck your tongue out, just in time to taste his cum on your lips. A few stray ropes hit your chin and cheek as well, with the majority staining the panties you'd come in to search for. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” You giggled, wiping away his cum and standing yourself up to come face to face with him. 
“Y/N, it won't-” You cut him off with a kiss that he eagerly returned hands, falling all over your body in his haste to feel every part of you. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he was a cartographer mapping out its caverns, desperate to learn each soft caress you returned off by heart. 
“If you were about to say it won't happen again, I suggest you think again, Spencer. I want this to happen again. Regularly.”
You shut off the shower and turned on your heel, walking back out to the bedroom and out of the heat for a few minutes. 
“You want to jerk me off?”
“Yes.”
“And I'm the pervert?” 
“You were using my panties and your hand like a fleshlight, Spencer. Yes, you are a pervert.”
“I'm a pervert but you still want to jerk me off?” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.”
That's how it began. Your decade-long escapade with Spencer Reid. It wasn't that you dated. He was still unsure about how to approach you for another few months after that, but there was nothing like the relaxation of a few orgasms to really help you warm up to somebody. 
For the first few years, a case didn't pass without one of you slipping into the others motel room for some late night entertainment. 
You knew just how deep his fingers could hit inside you after only two weeks. You became obsessed with how well his cock could stretch you out, how his hands would gently rub around your clit in circles while you bounced up and down on his length. How he watched your breasts bounce with untold wonder in his eyes. 
You most of all loved that his tongue was as eager to taste you as you had been that very first time to taste his cum. 
Half the times he let himself into your room, he'd satisfy himself by eating you out lazily for hours on end, making you moan his name while you came on his fingers and tongue. Every flash of violet that he caught a glimpse of - that first pair of panties - drove him crazy. 
Motels and hotels and once the back seat of an SUV after a long drive became your time to get closer to your coworker. You never once thought of bringing this physical relationship home with you, though, and it wasn't a continuous thing. 
You'd had to take it easy when he got shot in the leg, not wanting to hurt him anymore. And again, when he'd gotten shot in the neck, though a few times he'd begged you to close his hospital door and help him out still. 
And you'd both distanced yourself after Emily's death and miraculous resurrection. Surprisingly enough,  you'd found your heart slightly twisted when he'd begged the team for help rescuing his girlfriend from a stalker. 
But you always found your way back in his bed with his tongue pressed against yours and his cock buried as deep into you as far as it could go. In the decade you'd been sleeping with the secretly perverted and somewhat insatiable Spencer Reid you'd never gone longer than three months without his body in your bed. 
Until he went to prison. 
The weight of your grief at losing him was unparalleled. You'd been heartbroken when Emily had died, but it paled in comparison to the thought of his isolation. Penelope had to remind you to eat, Luke had to engage you in conversation to keep you talking. 
Emily slipped a spare key to Reid's apartment to you somewhere around the three week mark, and you'd let yourself into a place you'd only ever heard described. You slept in his bed to feel his scent wrapped around you, touched yourself there to remind yourself that you were just feeling the loss of a sexual partner and friend and nothing more. It was lust and sexual frustration driving your depression. That was all. 
Spencer came out different. Everyone did. On the surface, he was still kind, still a little bit nerdy, and he still wasn't the best at reading social cues, but there was an intensity to him that wasn't there before. 
On cases, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and push a hand just slightly under your shirt while you introduced yourself to local detectives. He'd hug you at the end of every work day, breathing in your scent and telling you how tired he was. 
His hand would firmly cover your thigh and not move the entire duration of any car ride, team dinner or family event, and he'd kiss the back of your neck and grope your breasts each and every elevator ride you took alone together. 
Spencer Reid hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you for six whole months, and yet he hadn't actually touched you.
Every time you'd knocked on his motel door, he'd not opened it, and he hadn't once come to yours. 
You'd expected him every day for a week after he'd first gotten out and had even explicitly told him so. You texted your address, invited him over, and sent him pictures of you in those infernal panties that you really didn't wear that often anymore. 
He desired you still, you knew enough from brushing past him and feeling his semi push against your ass, you knew in every hug where he touched you just enough to know he wanted more but still had the control to pull away. 
You knew that he only kissed your neck, because if he kissed your lips his tongue would wander all the way to your cunt and he'd be on his knees between yours making you scream his name in pleasure. 
Spencer Reid wanted to avoid you, but he still wanted you, and after six months of celibacy you were tired of waiting around for him to finally crack. 
Emily had never asked for the spare key back. With 10 years of dalliances under your belt, you were sure the entire office had caught on, if not before prison, then certainly after his hands took possession of your body after his release. She wasn't going to ask for the key back because that was like asking a question she probably would sleep better without having the answer to. 
Spencer started his professorial work, and you finished some nights before he could manage the commute home, so it was easy to let yourself into his apartment for the confrontation. 
When Spencer finally turned his key in the lock, he found you there  on your knees on the floor in a matching violet set of lingerie. Not your originals, but certainly close enough - smaller, though. 
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 
“I'm just sitting here in my underwear for fun, Spencer. You should try it sometime.”
He frowned at your sarcastic reply but stepped closer to you, topping your head up to meet his gaze with a quick flick of his finger. 
“I mean it, Y/N. Why are you here?” 
“I…I want you to touch me again.” 
“I touch you plenty, Y/N. I touch you here,” he traced your lips. 
“And here.” His fingers fell to your neck, sweeping some hair off your shoulders. 
“And a lot here, too.” He cupped one breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze, and you let your head rest against his thigh as he slipped a finger into your bralette. 
“I want you to touch me more, Spencer.”
“How? How should I touch you? Be a little pervert for me and tell me, Y/N?”
Your breathing faltered for a second as he pinched your nipple and you bit your lip before you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 
“I want to feel your dick buried deep in my pussy. I want to cum on your tongue. I want you to stretch me out with your fingers and I want you to fill me up with your cum. Please, Spencer, I miss you so much.” 
He said nothing but withdrew his hand from your chest and distanced himself slightly, turning his face away from you. 
“Spencer, please, what's wrong? Did I do something-”
“Do you miss me? Or do you miss fucking me?” The words would regularly send you into an indignant stomp, and part of you was still begging you to let out a shout of “what the hell is that supposed to mean.” 
But Spencer was frozen still in the doorway of his house, almost statuesque as a melancholic look overwhelmed his features. 
Your courage drained your body as you stood up and pulled the shirt you'd earlier discarded back on. 
“Spencer? Look at me, please.” 
He did reluctantly, and that blank expression still filled his eyes with gloom. 
You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping yourself around him. 
You say there, head pressed into his neck, legs straddling him as his arms slowly came up to pulling you back in. Your heart beat harder by the second, and you counted down the minutes as you worked up courage.
“I missed you so much I drove myself insane. I had to sleep here for a week straight after they told me you were put in solitary. Every day, I thought of your hands on my body and how much I missed seeing your fingers flipping through a book on the jet. I missed asking you what you were reading, and I missed convincing you to put the book down.” 
You pulled your head up to meet his gaze and slowly let your mouth fall to his lips. It was slow, soft. An innocent peck in the context of your usual caresses. It spoke the words I miss you more effectively than your voice could, and neither of you seemed to want to part from the warm embrace. 
“I missed you, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, cutting off your kiss as you grew more impassioned by his touch, breathing harder and speaking faster and faster now as you kept on. 
“I missed you when you came back because you kept your hands on me. You let yourself enjoy my body in public but wouldn't let me share your bed in private. You hugged me, but you wouldn't let me hold you, and you have not once spoken about how you feel, you have not once told me that you are okay now or that you are not okay and you need my shoulder to cry on.”
He was silent until your tears sprung forth, and then he was everywhere around you, kissing the drops from your face, shushing you and whispering words of encouragement and thanks and love into your ears while he placated your breaking heart.
Because somehow you fell in love with the pervert who stole your panties and now you were sitting in a room with a mostly broken man, begging him to use you to feel whole again. 
“I love you, Spencer. Please, please let me touch you.” 
“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, hands finding your hips again as he finally pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
His nails bit into the skin at your thighs as he forced you not to move, instead grinding up into you after another heated kiss. 
“It was hard, but you kept me going. Memories of you, your mouth, your scent your wet cunt wrapped around my cock, you kept me alive in that place.” He worked you up with each dirty confession as his hands pushed the shirt back off your shoulders and bared the lingerie to him once again. 
“Then I was out, and you were still the same as I remembered, but I was different, and I needed more from you. But I couldn't take more, and I didn't want to ask you to give more because I could not beg one more person to love me.” 
“You don't have to beg, Spencer, I love you already, I love you I love you I love you.” 
“Y/N, you don't understand. I am completely enamoured with you. I want to possess you, I want to keep you in my room, I want to have a hand on you at all times. I want to put a bullet in any man who looks at you because you are mine. I'm not a pervert, I'm a monster, and I'm going to hurt you.”
“Possess me, hurt me, keep me, Spencer, do whatever you want to me, I will let you. Just please don't leave me.” 
Your teeth clicked together in his haste to recapture your lips again, his cock hard and already sprung from his pants thanks to two pairs of quick working hands. 
He pushed aside your panties, and he was inside you, pressed to the hilt recapturing the place that was home to him. 
“You picked this color for me. You wanted me to lose control and fuck you and you got what you wanted,” he whispered in your ear as you locked your ankles together behind his back. 
“I did.”
“Good. I'm going to rip them shred by shred from your body so nobody else can see you acting like such a desperate wet cunt ever again.” 
You let out a gasp at his words, and his tongue dropped back down your throat as he rutted into you ferociously. 
“Spencer, yes, fuck me. FUCK!” 
Your hips met his in a furious clash, his hand making their way around to your butt cheek as he aided your thrusting, pulling you up and down the length of his cock. 
“That's it, look at your boobs bouncing for me, sweetheart. Your body knows when it's being fucked right, it knows when I'm here, and I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, right baby?” 
“Yes, Spencer. Yes!” 
His hand came back up to your clit as you met his hips more enthusiastically than before, fucking yourself on the length of him. 
“You're going to cum on my cock. Show me how much you missed me,  missed this.” 
“So much, missed you so much, Spence….need your cum inside me, fill me up Spencer, please."
It took both of you only a few more desperate thrusts to reach the climax you'd waited half a year for. You convulsed on his dick, shuddering underneath him as he filled you with rope after rope of cum.
But when you had both caught your breath, you still didn't let go, still holding on to him desperately as of he'd vanidj in another second despite your confessions. 
“Y/N…” he cooked into your ear as you buried your face in his chest again. “Y/N, we need to get you to bed.” 
“I'm not leaving.” 
“No, you're not. But you're not sleeping on my couch either.”
You pulled away just enough to watch his face as he dipped down for another sweetly chaste kiss. 
Lifting himself up, and pulling his cock out of you, you whimpered a little at the loss of his warmth, but after rearranging himself in his pants, he pulled you up next to him and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he slowly walked you back towards his bedroom. 
“You really slept at my apartment?”
“I slept in your bed. I'm sorry, I know it was overstepping, but you were gone and I-”
“Missed me, I know.” His hands traced your spine again before cupping around your bare ass and hooking it under to touch your soaked cunt. 
“How much did you miss me, Y/N? How did you spend your nights here?” His fingers once again hooked under the panties, but instead of pulling them to the side, he quickly pulled at the seams, and you heard a ripping sound aa his eyes demanded the answer to your question. 
“Close the door, and I'll shoe you exactly what I did here, Spencer. I'll show you everything.’ 
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cedarmoonzz · 1 month
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between the bars •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
followed by: once more to see you and slow like honey
fandom: gravity falls
ship: ford pines x reader
warnings: brief mention of boners, making out, angst
summary:
being engaged to the world’s smartest idiot feels like navigating a storm while he’s engrossed in his portal research. you wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him.
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Three months.
Ninety-one sleepless, tormented days. 
That’s how long you’ve watched Ford, once so full of life, become a shell of himself.
Each day seems to blend into the next, weighed down by the crushing demands of his portal. His bright eyes have lost their spark, replaced by a weary, distant look that suggests he is fighting a constant battle with exhaustion. He’s always buried in his research, disappearing into a maze of endless calculations and theories, only coming up to ask for coffee, food, or help with his measurements. Each interaction is a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, making you ache for the vibrant person he is beneath all the work. It allows you to realize something.
Stanford is an incredibly stubborn man.
You count your breaths, letting the full force of Ford’s distance fill you. Once a day, only in the evening, you allow yourself to feel abandoned, lost, and alone—but only here, only in the evening, before Stanford trudges upstairs for his third pot of coffee. Afterwards, you must set these feelings aside, for there is still so much work to be done, so much still at stake.
Stanford lets you handle all the paper calculations and complex math for the portal, trusting you with the intricate details crucial to his project. Yet, despite your role, he keeps you from seeing the fruits of your labor. You are barred from the basement, the place where the results of your hard work come to life. This exclusion only deepens your sense of isolation and frustration, as you toil endlessly without ever truly understanding the impact of your efforts. The distance between what you contribute and what you’re allowed to see only reinforces the feeling of being a cog in a machine, valued for your skills but denied any real connection to the end result.
Beyond the kitchen door, you can hear your lab mates arguing. The last light of day was leaking through the fissures of the window shutters, changing shape as they paced outside, their shadows stretching to where you sit, hidden, not yet prepared to face them. Though you could not make out their words, you could detect the urgency in their voices. You pressed your palms against your eyes and sighed, then rolled up the loose sleeves of Stanford’s (now your) sweater.
With a harsh, abrupt grunt, akin to the percussive crack of a twig beneath a boot, your fiancé wrenched the splintered door open, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. You were jolted from your thoughts, having been lost in your own reverie as the unexpected noise shattered your concentration. As he stood there, his face etched with a mixture of anger and exhaustion, you could see the deep lines of fatigue and frustration carved into his features. He muttered a stream of incoherent curses under his breath, his visible irritation and weariness painting a stark picture of his emotional state.
Softly, you encouraged him. “Ford, what is it?”
He didn’t answer; he only stood, looking at you as if he might scream.
“It’s Fiddleford!” Stanford growled. “He’s speaking nonsense! Trying to propose that only bad can come from the portal we spent months on! Your calculations, my handiwork and experience? All down the drain because McGucket is scared? It’s ridiculous! I should’ve never trusted him. It seems I can trust no one with my work these days!”
His words caught you between places: you stare down at the ring that graced your finger, the tea kettle whistling, trails of steam emitting behind you, leaving you in between your selves.
“No one?” you repeat, but did not elaborate further. You did not want to be cruel to him, but now that he had insulted you (now, of all times, when you were working so hard to understand him), it was difficult to resist lashing out at him.
Ford paused, words caught between his teeth as you stood in silence. “[Y/n]… my love.” Regret crept into his voice, daring to color his words with a warmth you were sure was genuine—but rather than comfort, it only wounded you. “Of course I can trust you. This portal… It wouldn’t be possible without your work.”
It broke you—or broke what feeble grip you had on yourself, the reserves of strength you used to keep your grief and despair in check all spent.
“My work,” you spat out, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth. You threw the kettle off the stove and pivoted to confront him, closing the distance between you with two broad, angry strides. Pointing a finger at him, you seethed, “Is that all the trust you have? Just your precious portal? Ford, when was the last time you actually talked to me? I can't deal with this anymore! I followed you all the way to Gravity Falls, to the middle of nowhere, and you barely let me see the full scope of my work. Always holed up in the basement.”
Your palm remains red from the heat of the kettle’s handle, but that does not burn as bad as the heat of your fiancé’s abandonment. And still, stupidly, in spite of it all, you wanted to trust Ford. To believe that there was a reason, an explanation for all the half-truths and deceptions. You want to protect him. You want your answers. You want to see him: not a passing nod of acknowledgment, or a pat on the back as you walk past him, or a fragment of him in a dream, but his skin in the flesh, and you loathe yourself for how badly you want it… but you turn that loathing outward, funneling it through the anger, and set the air around you crackling with fury.
As you glared at him, a profound sense of abandonment and worthlessness enveloped you like a shroud. It felt as though you had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified calculator in Ford’s eyes—a mere instrument, a cog in the vast machinery of his ambitions, used and discarded with no regard for your own significance. The weight of your perceived insignificance bore down on you, each moment in his shadow a reminder of how fleeting and unimportant your role had become. The very essence of your being seemed to diminish with every unacknowledged contribution, leaving you to wrestle with the crushing realization that your efforts and sacrifices had been eclipsed by his relentless pursuit, barely noted and even less appreciated.
Stanford’s eyes met yours, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the gravity of the moment. He measured the tension between you, a flicker of regret crossing his features as he struggled to comprehend the full extent of your pain. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken remorse, before he finally cleared his throat, his voice betraying a hint of sorrow for the hurt he had caused and the realization of how far he had let things go.
“I'm sorry, [Y/n].” Stanford reached out to hold your waist—and did you imagine it, or did you lean into that touch, pressing your body to the warmth of his open palms? You swallowed. Softly, he asked you, “Do you want me to go?”
You shook your head, more as an excuse to look away from him than anything—now that you had reprimanded him, you realized just how close he was, and your hair fell in front of your eyes, offering you a moment of reprieve. It was difficult having him so near; when your rage subsided, you were left with a profound sense of abandonment and a wounded heart. In a voice tinged with desperation and hurt, you asked, “Why can’t you just let me help you, Ford?”
As the words left your lips, you found yourself instinctively moving closer, your breath mingling with his. The proximity heightened the tension between you, the unspoken emotions crackling in the air. Your lips nearly brushed his as you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice blending with an undeniable, charged intimacy.
“[Y/n],” he begs, but he keeps his hands around your waist. “It’s dangerous…” But even as he speaks, his head is falling towards yours, his mouth ajar and questing, breath ragged.
You lift your hand from the collar of Stanford’s lab coat to hold his face, running your thumb tenderly over the stubble that graced his sharp jawline.
“I’m just as capable as Fiddleford,” you whisper, only inches between you now, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck as you speak the words. “Let me prove myself to you.”
Ford shudders. When his eyes meet yours again, they read something within them—perhaps some hidden fate or doom—and then, he remains. He holds you in his eyes like he is weighing you, or trying to carry a piece of you away with him. With a weary sigh, he lifts his hands to frame your face instead, tracing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward—you dare not breathe—and presses his lips to your brow, just below the line of your hair. You can feel the soft warmth of his breath against the top of your head. Your eyes sting with tears; you will your body not to shake.
“I know you’re incredibly intelligent, but what Fiddleford saw in that portal… it ruined him. I don’t want the same fate for you.” He pleads, raising a hand of his own as if to pry yours from his face, but it trembles instead, then covers yours, holding the warmth of your palm to his cheek. “It is not that simple.”
“It can be,” you insist, as you lower your other hand to rest above his frantic, pounding heart. “It is.”
The space between the two of you is shrinking before you know whether you or Ford had moved first. Then your palm was carding through the tangled brown hair at the back of his head, drawing him closer as you kiss. When your mouths first met, Ford flinched, as though he might retreat… but he parted his lips for you, and your knees weaken at the taste of his tongue. You clutched his lab coat; his hands danced across your waist to the small of your back and held you against him. His heat rose against you; you could feel him through his slacks, insistent against your thigh—
“I’m sorry,” Stanford whispers, his lips brushing against yours before he pulls away. He turns abruptly and exits the room. Without another word, he heads straight for the basement, leaving you standing there, your heart aching with the weight of unsaid confessions and unfulfilled desires. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional distance that remains between you.
The way he looked at you was too much; so much unspoken between the two of you, so much you wish to tell him, confess to him: how he always makes you feel safe. That this whole research project, the calculations and all, had only ever been bearable because he had let you be by his side. That his presence is more valuable to you than anything; that you had treasured every moment spent with him. That you’re worried for him.
That you felt like he was in danger, and you were running out of time.
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augustinewrites · 11 months
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cw: suggestive content
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“the fortress of meropide takes full responsibility for the beret society incident,” wriothesley states, heaving a sigh. “it was…an unfortunate oversight on my part.”
“it’s not entirely your fault,” clorinde tells him. “don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“thanks,” he grins, slightly surprised by her attempt at comforting him. “never thought i’d see the day—”
“don’t push it.” 
“come on, just admit that we’re best friends!” 
neuvillette clears his throat, like a parent would before lecturing a child. “what steps have you taken on behalf of those affected? many families of the victims have written to my office, requesting indemnification. it’s been explained that the court of fontaine holds no jurisdiction over the fortress. the matter falls into the hands of the warden.”
“i’ve moved some funds around to properly compensate everyone who was affected.” he answers, handing over a report outlining the details. “i’ve also compensated the doctor you sent to the fortress quite generously, as she’s taken on the responsibility of overseeing their continued care.” 
neuvillette chuckles quietly as he reads the report. “is ‘compensate’ new slang for 'intercourse?'”
one beat of silence. then two. clorinde snickers behind her teacup. wriothesley briefly considers swan-diving into the primordial sea. 
“why— why would you ask that?” he sputters instead.
the chief justice simply continues on reading, oblivious to the scandalized reaction of his companions. “oh, calm yourself, your grace. i was merely jesting, no need for anyone to be embarrassed.”
“yeah, if you’re him,” clorinde scoffs, jerking her thumb in his direction. “but if you’re the doctor in this situation…” 
“okay, your best friend status has officially been revoked. and you, chief justice! since when do you jest?”
“since it’s come to my attention that you both hold great affection for one another. sigewinne corresponds quite frequently with the other melusines here at palais mermonia. we know all about you and the doctor’s whispers of desire.”
clorinde chokes on the pastry she’s eating as wriothesley rises abruptly, his face suddenly hot. he swears the tea they’d been sharing is laced with something. “okay, you have my report, this meeting is over.” 
_____
“i got bullied by the chief justice and a champion duelist today,” your boyfriend pouts as he joins you in bed.
you bite back a smile as he pushes his head against your chest, snuggling contentedly against the silk of your chemise. 
“i’m having a hard time believing monsieur neuvillette would do such a thing.”
he releases a long, dramatic sigh as your fingers scratch lightly at his scalp. “can you do me a favour and tell him, in explicit detail, just how well i’m ‘compensating’ you?”
wriothesley yelps when you pinch the shell of his ear. “oh, hush,” you laugh, kissing the top of his head. 
not one to be outdone, the duke sits up, effortlessly trapping you beneath him and nosing at the column of your neck. you shudder as his teeth graze your ear in retaliation, your hand gripping the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck. 
“wait,” you gasp as you feel his lips form the beginning of what you know will be a very visible hickey tomorrow. “do you hear that?”
your boyfriend draws back to look down at you, concerned. “hear what?”
“it sounds like…a whisper of desire.”
“hey!”
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meo-eiru · 13 days
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*cracks knuckles* here I am again. this time with Micah as my victim
so at first,
you definitely should add some more story to him. so far, if I'm being honest, he feels a bit too plain to me. but oh boy, what a potential I see here!
alright lets begin
omg look at him! such a hypocrite! how smart it is, to put all blame on MC while being just as (actually even more) sinful. and he sure hides well; it's your fault, isn't it? oh you and your sinful mind.
buut despite him not really being my cup of tea, I still do like a good old concept of ugly insides, hidden behind a beautiful shell (if that's the vibe you were going for).
Micah seems so pure, so holy, almost like an angel (you played smart by adding a lot of white in his design) – but behind that pristine facade? he's ugly. and that shell eventually starts to crack, because no matter how pure he may seem, Micah is just as human as we are, and definitely not a good one. and what are we, if not a bunch of cruel, egotistical animals? and deep inside he's exactly that, sickeningly human. with that in mind the very first comic you did abt him is actually pretty hilarious to me. your desires? what about his desires, which are strong enough to ruin your whole life?
I kinda feel like he's also a little pathetic in his own way; if he can't make you fall for him, he will break you. isn't it like a very cowardly move? he wants you badly enough to use whatever method it may require to have you, but will never admit it.
but let's talk about that strange desire to destroy MC's purity. why? to make you just as dirty as he is? cute, but doesn't seem like a full explanation to me. he's a priest, right? and even despite those dark insides of his, I feel like Micah still kept at least some of the priest mindset. I mean, they're raised and taught with a very strict discipline. so I feel like deep down, he feels bad (not ashamed, but in a "how dare they" way) for his attraction to you, and punishes you for that attraction. it's not your fault, of course, but who cares? you managed to destroy his perfect, clean facade, which he was methodically building for his whole life with simply your existence. isn't that unfair? so now you must fall into the depths of hell with him.
I like how we can't justify him. Micah is perfectly aware of what he is doing. and of twisted nature of his feelings too, I think, yet still chooses to indulge in his desires, even if it hurts you, the person he was supposed to love and cherish. he makes me feel an absolute, poetic rage, and I love a character I can hate. (don't get me wrong, it meant to be a praise)
and I absolutely adore his design. also if I was on point with the idea you meant for him, that is wonderful too. if a character makes me feel something, I like that character. but girl, you really should add more details about him. because everything I've written here is, basically, just my own brainstorming and bare theories. Micah needs to have more meat on him for a full character analysis >_>
but anyway, I actually have a question.
what if MC wasn't in any way pure? what if they're a complete opposite of that word? count it on my love for hunchback of notre dame
unlike the nun MC, I suggest a MC who fully embraces their sins. like an evil succubus, they enjoy the joys of being tainted. they know what influence they have on their dear Father Micah, and isn't ashamed of that. I feel like that would make a pretty interesting story
(cough cough draw him blushing and moaning and my life is yours darling)
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Another absolutely incredible ask I'll have a field day answering.
I do agree with him being a bit under developed at the moment. Micah was a bit unfortunate as in he was never meant to be an actual character. He was just a momentary creation who existed for me to study color theory. A beautiful man of flowers who didn't have an identity.
Then he joined the cast when I was busy with working on commissions and the 5k celebration comic so I didn't have the time to draw his introduction comic with the things I had planned for him, though I've been trying my best to explore him a bit more thru asks like this one. The fact that I don't want to spoil the stuff I'll draw in his comic is also holding me back a little.
I think Micah is evil, but not completely bad. A man who was born twisted, who was raised into goodness, and even with all the love he received never truly got rid of his inner darkness, but just once, just for one moment, I think he had good in his heart. And that is when he first saw you.
With all his twistedness, all his evilness, all his darkness, I think that love he felt for you was truly pure. Because in his eyes you appeared truly beautiful, like a pure lily.
But Micah isn't a pure man, neither does he want to be. So he prefers to pull you down to his level, so that you two can be sinful together. A truly impure way of feeling that pure and innocent love.
I have gotten asks about him with a more rowdy darling, one who isn't a nun or one who is more sinful. I've been really brainstorming about it but I don't think it would work. Not because I personally can't force the story into being like that but because I think it was just not meant to be like that.
You see I do come up with the characters, but I don't control their actions. If the character is unwilling I can't shape the story to my will. Because that story is their life and they control it. The best I can do is to try to fill the gaps I can.
I might prefer submissive yanderes, I might want Micah to have a more sinful darling instead but it wouldn't be Micah's story anymore. That's one of the reasons why he's so different from the rest of the boys. I'm not super into very dominant guys, I could probably count the ones I have with one hand, it wasn't my intention for Micah to be the way he is, but I don't think he could've been any other way.
Micah was just meant to be manipulative, a gaslighter, a dirty man who'll pull anything to push you below him.
I guess me looking at my stories from an actual novel or manga perspective also contributes to this. Father Micah exists to shine with a darling who he can soil.
Now the darling can maybe go against him in the future, she might rebel or give in to his sinful ways, but that's a different story.
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duskyvenus · 8 months
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444: Written in the Stars
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A PAC about the person who is the one for you 💖 Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. Six piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.
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Pile 1
Your person likes/has cats or cats can be significant in your relationship. This person really likes nature and animals. They like listening to music and may have a record player at home. Could also be an artist. A highly sensitive person. They see beauty in everything. They like taking photos to capture memories. May have brown hair or brown eyes. March and April might be important. This person is a bit melancholic and absentminded at times (?) It can be hard to notice at first but they have a lot on their mind. Nevertheless they know that they are more sensitive than most people and try to stay hopeful. You could feel resilience and healing energy oozing from them when you talk to them. They could also be a therapist or counselor or someone who studies psychology. They have the vibes of a very calm and nice teacher who minds their own business. They know how powerful words can be and they insist on maintaining peace. A very helpful person. "I know you can do it but let me do it for you" kind of person. Numbers and signs: 33, 3, 19, 14, Pisces, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer, Leo
Thank you for reading!!
Pile 2
Your person likes coffee or tea. They like celebrating their wins. I'm seeing cakes and lots of smiling faces. They are definitely very outgoing. They like forming meaningful relationships, not just mindless networking. They have creativity and a lot of ideas, so they could be a content creator or influencer. Sharp, spontaneous and open-minded. They're also financially secure; I'm seeing a job in finance. And they rely on people a lot more than they should? Maybe because they are looking for something that they can't find in a job. I'm seeing some co-dependency. They carry a lot of nostalgia and regret in their heart; someone who feels homesick for people. They may have studied anthropology and sociology. Couple outfits or couple activities is their thing. The type of person who gets hurt by people but still cannot imagine a whole life without a partner. June or October might be significant. They collect things like stamps or shells or dried flowers. Their house could look like a museum. YOLO could be their motto. Numbers and signs: 25, 1, 11, 13, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries, Leo, Taurus, Pisces
Thank you for reading!!
Pile 3
This pile has some young energy. Someone with a competitive spirit. They have this spoiled princess/prince persona for the people that don't know them very well. In reality, they are someone who works very hard to achieve success and they could be very smug about their accomplishments which might put some people off. I'm sensing that they believe in manifestation and law of attraction. They're also a bit defensive and guarded so it's hard to get to know them. I think they are someone who just wants to have control over their own life. They might have grown up in a situation where they didn't have much control over decisions concerning them so now, they are just trying to get their power back. They learned to stand up for themselves so now the people that could no longer control them are not happy about it. They made peace with it though. They're focusing on making their pinterest board dream life come true. One of their biggest dreams is to live in a beautiful house. January and August could be important. Numbers and signs: 16, 8, 5, 4, Scorpio, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Sagittarius
Thank you for reading!!
Pile 4
Your person is everywhere but also nowhere. They remind me of shows like my liberation notes, they feel like a warm cup of tea that comforts you at the end of a stressful day. They are the “always the artist but never the muse" trope. Similar to pile 1, they are soft spoken and kind. They fit in but they don't feel seen. They like journaling their thoughts because they feel so much. "I don't know where to put it down" Despite this, they have a small group of friends that feel like soulmates or soul family to them. Getting closer to them can be hard because they just enjoy their own solitude that they don't feel the need to be with someone all the time. Very independent. When you get to know them though, you will find that they are very accepting and funny even. A true friend and a loyal partner. They will love to share their interests and hobbies with you. They desire someone who gets them on a spiritual level and they will always be there for you. They really value loyalty and a no bs attitude. For some of you, they could be from a different culture/country. They can probably speak many languages. The type to learn your native language so that communication is never a barrier. Numbers and signs: 32, 13, 14, 5, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius
Thank you for reading!!
Pile 5
This person has an elusive persona. The cold and rich male lead character of a manhwa/drama. They prefer night over day; might be a night owl. They are secretly a hopeless romantic. They need someone who is like sunshine. Initially they give off this dark, serious and mature vibe but underneath they have a very soft core. They are a very caring and nurturing person but that energy has been stifled because of their environment. The reason why they act so serious is because they don’t want people to take advantage of them. To them, you are like a warm ray of sunshine that makes them feel alive again. They hate authority. They hate having all these responsibilities that tie them down and keep them busy. They are deserving of their position because of their hard work and leadership qualities, but sometimes they just want to run away from it. They feel that they have a different purpose. However, they could be hesitant to move on from their comfort zone. Out of all the piles, this pile is the most eager to meet you. They said, “you have so much light, the plants grow towards you”. Numbers and signs: 25, 8, 14, 3, Capricorn, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Libra
Thank you for reading!!
Pile 6
This pile has a very endearing energy. Someone who goes through all of it and yet chooses to be kind. “Memories are all I have” A very poetic or sentimental kind of person who struggles in making decisions. Also, they like humor based on their own pain. They like visiting places that are off the grid and collecting random things. They often dress up to go nowhere. They tend to do a lot of silly things that wouldn’t make sense to the average person because they are silly, duh. Quite the hopeless romantic too. Apart from all the silliness, they are avoidant of the reality because they often dissociate and have tendency to spiral into inner turmoil. They may struggle to understand their own feelings. All this is hidden under the persona of being the happy go lucky friend. In the end, they just want to bond over the little things and enjoy the mundane tasks of everyday life with someone. They may work in a field related to children or history. May, September could be significant. Numbers and signs: 26, 6, 2, 18, Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces, Virgo, Libra, Aries
Thank you for reading!!
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mysticheathenn · 5 months
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Reassuring Messages From The Universe
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about messages reassuring you that everything is going to be okay. I felt called to do this reading, hopefully, this reading gives you some sort of solace, peace, and hope.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: The Chariot, 6 of Swords (Clarified by 2 of Swords, reversed), 4 of Pentacles (Clarified by 4 of Pentacles), The High Priestess, King of Wands.
Some of you may be dealing with depression, anxiety, or in general, your mental space has not been in the greatest of shape lately. Something is going to give you your spark back to help you trust and lead you on your way towards victory. You've been in your shell long enough holding onto the reality around you. For some of you, this is by choice but for the majority of you, this is because of your circumstances. You could be dealing with financial struggles or whatnot, either way, I see you finally walking down the path of where you want to go with no fear as to what will or can happen because you are trusting more in the universe (God, Allah, etc) that everything will work out. You're walking away from what could be a job, relationship, friends/family, or even just no longer letting your mental health and mindset get the best of you anymore and finally deciding enough is enough. If not you the universe will show you that enough is enough, this doesn't feel like a thrust into your new direction like a tower moment but more so of a gentle hand. Similar to how an animal is scared or nervous in their new home and you are gently letting them feel the lay of the land and giving them pets here and there of encouragement that everything is fine and that they are safe. This next chapter feels like safety, reassurance, and guidance from the divine. You may still be scared and may sometimes even revert back to what you know best but it will be more so of a quick mindset switch before you continue on this new path. I'm hearing where you are is no longer serving. Trust that you are being led to victory and not another lesson, financial bankrupt, etc. Lead with passion, lead by your passions, and live your life passionately. Be Bold and stop shrinking.
Extra Messages: Tea Trea Oracle: Strong emotion passionate love or hate. November. A period of ill health/Depression. Do not lower your standards. The key to the outcome of your problems. Involvement with the law (contracts or winning a legal battle). Obstacles you will overcome. Happiness.
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Pile ll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Wands, Strength (reverse), 10 of Wands (reversed), 10 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
Weirdly "Hit Me Baby One More Time" came to mind but not in the sense of what the song is about but more so that you are constantly being knocked down by life's challenges and most of you aren't sure if you can get up again. "Knock me down 9 times but I get up 10" - Cardi B (Get Up 10). Your strength is weary but something in you still has that hope and faith that something better is coming and you are right. With the 9 of pentacles and 10 of cups card something better is coming. Because everyone's desires and goals are different whatever this is that you have been dreaming, manifesting, praying, or just working your ass off for is finally coming into fruition. You just need to not give up before the finish line, you're almost there. "I'm almost there" - Tianna, Princess and the Frog movie. Your story might be similar to Tiana's or you may have a deep admiration for her for how she worked hard and finally got her dream of owning a restaurant. Tiana is you, you are Tiana in this reading. She went through some tough times and even thought about giving up a time or two but something in her just like yourself is holding on to that thread of hope that everything will pay off, you just need a sign. This is that sign. Keep hanging on, hold on to your guides/Universe/Ancestors/etc hand during this process when you feel you need that extra push to keep going. I am hearing some of you a fast may help give you more clarity or bring this to fruition faster. Some of you may have been thinking about fasting. Fasting can be anything. It can be not eating from 8am to 8pm, not eating breakfast and lunch, sustaining from social media or sex, etc etc. Whatever it is fast may give you the clarity and strength you need. Fasting is only for some of you
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: October. January. Good Fortune. Protected from negative forces beyond your control. A sincere wish will be granted. Period of frustration, lessons to be learned. The most difficult part is over. Major challenges to overcome. Something important, such as a new job or raise.
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Pile lll:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 10 of Cups, 5 of Wands, 7 of Swords (reversed), The Hermit, 4 of Cups, 9 of Pentacles.
There are two different messages for this pile. For some of you, you are dealing with someone in your life that is causing you a great deal of emotional and mental turmoil. You may even daily try to pray and wish this person away because you don't have the strength to do it yourself, while others of you are in hermit mode because you are tired of receiving people in your life that does nothing but make you hate people, wish you never met them, or just not want to connect with others in general. Either way, the main gist of it all is people are stressing you out and have not been treating you well forcing you to rethink everything in life. Some of you might even question your existence as if you are here to be a punching bag for those who have not healed their inner wounds. For those still dealing with toxic people I am seeing you going into a period of isolation. Your prayers, manifestions, cord cutting rituals are being answered. I'm hearing be careful what you wish for. So for some of you, this isolation is exactly what the doctor ordered while some of you will like it in the beginning but slowly realize exactly what this period of isolation may mean. You may be the type that doesn't do well alone or not always surrounded by people and this isolation it will teach you not only how to see your self-worth and what truly matters in your life (what you want and not allow people to treat you). Others who are in a period of isolation already may have been working on something if not you will receive an idea something that will bring you the emotional and financial fulfillment that you have been desiring for a while. Either way, at the end of both periods of isolation blessings, emotional, and financial blessings are to be found. Take this period of self-reflection as a blessing and utilize it to the best of your abilities to explore yourself. I get a sense that you don't know yourself pile lll. Some of you may have an idea of who you are, what you stand for, and your morals/integrity.....but do you really know yourself..the real you and not the one you put on as a facade. Do not be afraid of what is to come. Do not be afraid of peace and quiet. Embrace the silence. Embrace the change and shift in the current.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Honor and respect will come to you. Changes in your life. Sorrow over a loss. Financial Pinch. Happiness. Peace and Harmony. Deep personal strength and peace that assures success (period of isolation).
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Pile lV:
What are your reassuring messages? Tarot: 9 of Cups, Awakening, The Hermit, Queen of Wands (reversed), King of Wands
Similar to pile lll, but different. Instead of this being about others causing yourself turmoil this is mostly about you not feeling confident in yourself or your abilities to do anything right especially regarding goals, talents, etc. For some of you, this idea was implanted by someone you once looked up to but for most of you, this has more to do with either perfectionism or just comparing yourself to someone else. You aren't realizing that the reason the grass is greener on the other side is because that person too had to put in the work to make it in such a state. They didn't just wake up with green grass but they nurtured it, fed it nutrients, and kept unwanted and negative pests or harmful animals away from it. You need to do the same for yourself as well. You are the grass that needs to be nurtured, loved, and spoken to with such kindness. Anything else that does not give you the feeling of growth, happiness, and peace has no room in your life pile lV. As mentioned before, in pile lll you may either be in isolation or in need of isolation to help clear your mind. Either way in this isolation, you will be finding yourself again. Some of you may even look up things on Tumblr, Pinterest, etc on how to be "That girl/boy/person", Cottage Core, or whatever aesthetic or vibe that you have been wanting to do either way you want to become more tapped into who you are without caring what others may think. You are stepping into your power and becoming happy with life and possibly even trying to romanticize your life more. Some of you may even want to start a YouTube channel to help romanticize your life with edits and so forth. Weirdly I am feeling the vibe of slow-living content (only a few of you.) If not slow living waking up at 5 or 6am in the morning type of routine. Either way, this message is to reassure you that you are and will be coming back to yourself. It may take some time, trial, and error but when you listen to only yourself and not others, you will flourish beyond belief. Take this time to document your journey so you can see your growth as to when you become the person you are meant to be. Being yourself is the key to your financial abundance. That's all I hear. I don't know what they may mean for you either way being and finding yourself is the key. This could be like I mentioned YouTube, this could be giving into your desires to knit or crochet weird things or even making figurines and selling them on Etsy...whatever the thing is, being authentic is the key.
Extra Messages: Tea Tree Oracle: Someone or something is trying to come between you and something you want. Recognition, Reward for merit. Chain of events that will affect your life. Career. March. News of a birth or new business opportunity. Happiness. Money will be coming to you. A goal-oriented person.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
Next Reading: Patreon Related
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garoujo · 1 year
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✩ ˛˚ . WRIOTHESLEY — your boyfriend always had his own ways of teasing you whenever you’d visit him at work.
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, cockwarming, a lot of teasing, office scenes! my first wrio thing ueueue ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i had to write something for him before i lost my mind ,, im going sooooso crazy over him <3
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you were always so incredibly needy by the time you finally got to visit your boyfriend wriothesley in the fortress of meropide. unfortunately, he’d seemed to pick up on that — always figuring out new ways to tease you by the time you arrived, like he hadn’t been yearning for you just as much.
you’d barely been there a few hours and you’d already been palming at his muscles over his shirt, losing yourself in one of the many makeout sessions with the duke that seemed to take all of the air from your lungs. he was a daunting presence, all sharp edges and rough lines and exceeding the kind of dominance he holds over everything else in his life as he kisses you.
“wrio, i want you—please—“ is where wriothesley’s little game begins when he pulls away to give you a narrowed sort of look— crossing his arms over his chest as he hums to himself.
“mmm, in my administrative office space? what ever shall i do with you?” the tone of his voice is playful as he tries to bite back the whisper of a smirk on his features, his sharp eyes are on you and he’s already so consumed by the way your thighs rub together from where you’re sat on his desk.
“it’s been so long, i wanna feel you.” your voice trembles under the weight of your arousal as you blink up at wriothesley, sending him a terribly unfair, glassy look that makes him tilt his head down at you before he breathes out a laugh. oh, he’d devour you entirely— and he will, eventually.
“oh? is that so? well i might have a suggestion to fix that.”
you should’ve known what he meant by a suggestion, known that is was always going to be something amusing for him but oh so annoying for you. he’d led you into it, drowning you in kisses and languid touches when he’d coaxed you into his lap— sinking into you with the sweet promise of making you feel good after he’d finished his work— it was his office you were in after all. god—he was so annoying.
“well then, is this enough for you, hm?” wriothesley grits as he exhales deep against the shell of your ear. your chest is pressed tight against his and your thighs are spread so prettily over his own as you sit on his lap— soft walls wrapped around his heavy cock as you both rest on his desk chair.
he’s got one hand on your ass as he palms at the skin, the other flipping through the paperwork on his desk and he’s so glad you can’t see the way he does it without purpose, his only goal to last as long as possible with you around him— but it’s harder than he thought it would be.
“you didn’t even finish your tea.” his tone is smooth as he grumbles, giving your ass a particularly rough squeeze while he eyes the set of teacups at the other end of his desk— he’d even used the fancy kind to make you that cup. “i could always stop and make you another if you’d rather that.”
“n-no!” you squirm at that, you’re already so wound up tight— feeling his cock smooth along your sensitive walls and stretch you out so mercilessly. his teasing isn’t doing you any favours and you’d do anything for a little friction, all he’s offering you being a few shallow thrusts everytime he readjusts himself on his seat with a ‘oh i’m just getting comfortable is all.’ but you know him, you know it’s just an excuse for him to rock his hips into yours, pushing his cock even deeper into you just to hear you bite back a whimper of his name, a plea.
“wow, you’ve really been waiting for this, huh?” wriothesley tries again and you don’t even need to see his face to know he’s smirking just as he pulls your hips closer to his. there’s a lewd squelch between you both with how wet you are, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your sweet spots until you’re mumbling out a strangled sort of sound, and you feel something burn in your abdomen as you all but drip down his heavy shaft.
“mmhm, that’s a real shame. bet you’re regretting being impatient now.” he truly was relentless,
“wrio! just move already, come on!”
“oh no, you insisted you’d let me work like this. all i’m asking for is a minute to finish my work and my tea, ‘s all. you can handle that, right?”
oh but despite his teasing you feel like silk around him, making his fingers twitch and grip at the edge of his desk as he tries so hard to focus on his documents in front of him. he wants nothing more than to have you over the table, walls trembling around him as you cum but he’d started this little game — he can’t give in too quickly.
“well can you hurry up, n-need you to move!”
“yeah, well .. maybe if you stopped moving so much i’d be done a little faster.” wriothesley grumbles playfully, pulling back to shoot you a look before he’s placing a few ticklish, open mouthed kisses along your jawline.
you can only glare cutely at him in response, not trusting the sound of your own voice when you’re so full— but you still manage to tighten your walls around him as a little playback. you watch his lips part at that before he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, biting back a low growl but you still feel it rumble through his chest— he always liked when you teased him back, it made his games more fun.
“oh? good for you. that is wonderful~” wriothesley grunts with the praise but you can sense the sarcasm, goading as the muscles in his chest expand with a sudden, shaky exhale as he narrows his eyes up at you again— they’re darker now.
the sight alone has your pussy twitching, flexing around him and he hisses through his teeth at the sudden tightness before he thrusts abruptly into you in response. it makes you moan at the sudden friction he’s been so generous to give you— but makes you whimper even louder at the loss when he slows back to a stop before popping his neck to the side.
“quit teasing me! just fuck me, already!” wriothesley can’t deny the way your want—need for him has him like putty, making something burst and warm underneath his shirt when your fingertips graze their way beneath his collar, making him shudder when they trace so gently over his scars. he hums like he’s considering it, thinking it over before he’s placing a sloppy kiss against your neck and taking a ragged breath, then finally rolling his hips languidly into yours.
oh but it’s so fast the way he moves you, pushing you so quickly onto his desk that you squeeze around him from the movement alone. he lets himself curl over you this time, his cock throbbing when your thighs tremble around his hips and you’ve never been so thankful to feel the cold wood of his desk against your lower back and this man between your thighs.
wriothesley’s eyes are blown as they glance down between your bodies, so hypnotised by the way your folds spread for him before he almost crumbles with the first real bounce of his body against yours. his palms reach to squeeze at your hips, pulling back until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you before he’s sinking back down, and the way your pussy coaxes him back in is filthy with the wet, clapping connection of his hips with yours.
“aren’t you eager? seems i win this round. you gonna give me a prize?”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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jello-chennie · 1 year
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relationship hcs!
✧ pairing izuku, katsuki, eijirou, shouto w/ fem!reader
✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
✧ a/n check out my masterlist!
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ izuku ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
isn't at all sure about how he pulled you
but he did and he isnt complaining
would absolutely love a kind soul in his partner
he swoons anytime you do little things to take care of him like if you know he has a pretty busy day, even if you're busy too, you go out of your way to make him a cup of coffee or tea and you always seem to get it just right
or whenever he's super focused on something the past few days and starts getting a little scatter brained, he'll forget to eat
if you're in ua, you'll share your lunch with him (which he will deny at first, but when you start pouting at him, he cant say no)
if he's a pro-hero and working, you take him out to lunch on his break
doesn't matter how far into your relationship you two are, he's always getting flustered by you
despite that, he's always trying to make you laugh (even if it means dying inside from embarrassment)
izuku cannot formally confirm or deny whether or not he may or may not be intentionally getting a few extra bumps and scrapes just so you can take the time to gently and lovingly bandage his wounds
loves it when you cut his hair for him!
even when you mess up (his chest will hurt a little with embarrassment whenever he's out in public, but only a little bc you did something for him, and he loves that more than anything else)
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ katsuki ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
totally would end up in a relationship in which you are his polar opposite
everyone is confused
but it totally works!
you're super shy and sweet, and hes audacious and a little abrasive
he pulls you out of your shell and makes you become less of a doormat, you reign him in a bit and round out his sharper edges
when he takes you to meet his parents, it doesn't fly past him that the two of you have a dynamic that reminds him of his parents
which pisses him off to no end bc that means he truly is his mother's son
he's become his mother
bakugou doesn't form close relationships easily, and is definitely an all or nothing kind of guy
once you're in, you're locked in
it doesn't take him very long to start fantasizing about marriage and kids once you officially become a couple
he is you're personal chef
and once you both enter the workforce, he takes extreme pride in making your lunch for you
can and will enter a silent competition with the significant other's of your coworkers for who can make the best bento
probably makes a social media page dedicated to making cooking videos in which he posts aesthetic af videos of him making meals for you
"pro-hero dynamite is famous on the internet for also being a gourmet chef!"
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ eijirou ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
kirishima would definitely fall for someone super fem presenting
he works out all the time and has all these muscles solely for the purpose of carrying things for you
and carrying you
afterall, that's what a real man does
will stop and buy all the pretty things he sees in store that remind him of you
likes it when you stick some of your cute stickers you make him take you to the mall to go buy onto his gear
is tickled pink by headlines that show up the next day like "red riot big sanrio fan?"
has matching sanrio keychains on his phone case with you
loves to sit and watch you do your makeup
will sit next to you and ask you to explain it to him
kiri will never say no when you ask to put it on him
after all, what kind of man would have his masculinity threatened by a little makeup?
besides, it's not like he can say no when you look up at him with those big, pretty eyes, and the cute, hopeful, little grin on your face
that would be just wrong
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ shouto ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
one of the types of people i see shouto falling for is someone who is a bit of a spitfire
someone who is caring, compassionate, and understanding
someone with endless amounts of kindness in their heart, and a little wise, but relentlessly brazen
he both loves and admires them, and falls for their personality
i see shouto taking little bits and pieces of his partner's personality, and they are ultimately responsible for shouto becoming a little more outspoken
shouto is someone who would become a teeny bit obsessed with his partner
you officially have a shadow once you get together bc he will have no problem following you everywhere, and wanting to hangout with you all the time
isn't at all nervous about having you meet his dad, bc shouto knows that if endeavor starts pissing you off, you'll find a way to respectfully tell him to fuck off without missing a beat
you're also super smart and emotionally intelligent, so when his family life starts to become particularly messy at the moment, you're right by his side helping him navigate
shouto loves you for being his lover and his confidant, constantly there for him with open arms and advice that's strangely wiser beyond your years
once shouto's dad stops being crummy, endeavor actually comes to respect you
shouto's mom and sister love you, and the three of you gossip like school girls
which makes shouto a little jealous when he feels left out
shouto's the kind of bf to get jealous of the cat that he wanted but ended up liking you more
won't say anything, and will spend all day pouting in a corner some where
you have to give him ton of affection to make it up to him
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winterarmyy · 27 days
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You know what I have been itching to write these days? A people pleaser reader with emotional withdrawal. Like…
All this time Bucky’s been so sweet and doting and she absolutely loves it. I mean it’s new, she’s not used to the princess treatment at all but Bucky makes it feel as if it is only natural for her to feel the butterflies in her chest every second he is near. In past relationships, she was always the one putting in all the effort, bending over backward to meet her partner's needs and keeping the peace. She was the one making sacrifices for the walking red flag she fell in love with. It became second nature to her; she was the caretaker, the fixer, the one who made sure everything was okay, even if it meant neglecting her own feelings.
But with Bucky, it's different. He is the embodiment of a green forest itself. 
Imagine that one day when Bucky came home after a rough mission, he was clearly not okay. She noticed immediately how his eyes, usually bright and full of warmth when he greeted her, were different this time. The usual sparkle, the affectionate heart eyes were replaced by something darker, more distant. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his brows were furrowed in a way that told her something was wrong. When he walked through the door, there was no familiar rush to scoop her up in his arms, no playful toss onto the bed, and no smothering her with kisses. 
Instead, Bucky barely acknowledged her, walking right past her. He made a beeline to their bedroom, before she could say anything or follow him. She heard the bathroom door slam shut, the sound sharp enough to make her flinch. She tried to stay calm, telling herself it might have been just a loose screw, but deep down, she knew better. Bucky wasn’t feeling his best.
While he was in the shower, she decided to do something to help ease whatever burden was weighing on him. She brewed a pot of warm tea, the kind he always said helped calm his nerves, and prepared a plate of his favourite sweet snacks. She carefully placed them on the kitchen counter, hoping they’d bring him some comfort. But when she went back to their room, her heart sank a little further. Bucky was dressing, his expression still harsh and rigid, the gentleness was nowhere to be seen.
She couldn’t bear the silence between them, the coldness that seemed to have seeped into their usually warm and loving space. So she tried to break it, her voice soft and tentative as she asked, “Are you okay?” Bucky didn’t reply, his back still turned to her as he tugged on his shirt. The tension in the room was cutting, but she tried again, her tone gentle, almost coaxing, “You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I’m here for you.”
But Bucky was resolved to stay in his grumpy shell. When he finally spoke, his voice was deeper, rougher, and laced with an edge that sent a shiver down her spine. “Y/N, please just stop, okay? I don’t need you hovering over me like I'm a damn child. Just leave me alone.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. He didn’t shout, not like her exes used to, but the harshness in his tone was enough to scare her. A familiar fear crept up, the kind that made her feel like she might lose him at any moment, just like she had lost others before. Her mind spiraled into self-deprecation, the old voices in her head whispering that she was being annoying, that she needed to know her place, that he was right to push her away. She had overstepped, hadn’t she? She should have known better.
“Okay,” she whispered, the word barely audible as it left her lips. Her eyes, once filled with concern and care, shifted to something else; something colder, almost devoid of any emotion. Bucky noticed the change, but his chaotic mind, swirling with anger and frustration, couldn’t process it fully. So, all he did was watch as she turned and walked out of the room, leaving him alone.
Just as he had asked her to.
Imagine how she shuts herself down from that moment on, as if she went into auto-pilot. She still goes to work, sleep and eat properly, all her daily routine was the same but she completely left Bucky alone. She does not necessarily avoid him, but she didn’t reach for him either. She’d let him touch her, kiss her, but she would never touch him herself, she didn’t seek for him, she didn’t make eye contact unless necessary, and even if he’s close by she’d act as if he is not there and continue doing what she was doing.
It took Bucky a few days to return to his senses. And this dumbass boy thought that she was okay; all because she didn’t avoid him, or glared at him, or yell at him when he apologized. It took him a week after to notice she actually never covered from that night. It was in the little things; the way she no longer met his gaze with the same warmth, how she seemed distant even when she was sitting right beside him, how her smiles never quite reached her eyes anymore. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks: she had never been okay.
Panic began to well up inside him, gnawing at his insides. He had to fix this, had to make things right. So, he gently sat her down, taking her hands in his. “What’s wrong, doll?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly, fear lacing his words. But when she looked at him, her eyes were dull, empty; so different from the vibrant, loving gaze he was used to.
“Nothing’s wrong, what do you mean?” she replied, her tone flat and devoid of emotion. It was those words, so calm yet so cold, almost robotic. Like she was programmed to reply him as such. And that, shattered whatever composure Bucky had left.
Imagine how hurtful it was to see her like this, he’d grovel like he had never before. But deep down, knowing no amount of ‘sorry’ and sweet words will fix this. So from that day onwards, he’d show how much he loved her through his actions.
He became more attentive than usual to her every need, trying to anticipate what would make her life a little easier, a little brighter. He’d wake up early to make her favourite breakfast, he’d kiss her good morning and good night, but never initiates anything more.
He’d whisper “I love you.” every chance he got. He’d quietly  take on more of the household chores. He’d brush his fingers through her hair as they watched TV together, offering the comfort without expecting anything in return. He was gentle, never pushing her to talk or to be anything other than what she was in that moment.
He’d leave little gestures of love for her to find later; a favourite snack left on her desk, or a small bouquet of flowers on her pillow. He’d  play the songs they used to dance to in the living room, silently inviting her to join him if she felt like it.
But more than anything, Bucky showed his love through patience. He didn’t rush her, didn’t demand that she snap back to who she was before.
And by time, he'd noticed the slight changes. He’d notice how, when he reached out to touch her, she didn’t just tolerate it anymore; she started to lean into his touch, just a little. Her eyes, too, started to change. Where they had once been dull and empty, he began to see the slightest flicker of emotion return.
Sometimes, when he surprised her with a small act of kindness; a cup of tea waiting for her, a blanket draped over her shoulders; her eyes would soften. Bucky also noticed how she began to respond to his presence. When he sat beside her, she would subtly shift closer. She’d linger just a little longer in his embrace when they hugged, and sometimes, she’d even reach out first, tentatively placing a hand on his arm or leaning her head against his shoulder.
These small gestures were like lifelines to Bucky. That she will come back to him, if not now then later. So in the end, he let her heal at her own pace, silently vowing to be there for her, even if it took forever for her to trust him again. 
And yeah, that’s the urge... to write or to read so...
no pressure tags: @sweetiebarnes , @bucksangel , @littlemiss-yeehaw , @flowersforbucky , @dearest-bucky, @sergeantbarnessdoll , @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky , @buckets-and-trees , @buckys-wintersoldier , @bucks-babe , @ellemj , @buckyalpine , @lovelybarnes , @navybrat817 , @targaryenvampireslayer , @jobean12-blog , @all1e23 , @jessybarnes , @buckgasms , @nickfowlerrr , @espinosaurusrexex , @delaber , @buckylattes
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ty-bayonet-betteridge · 11 months
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your transfem friend recommended a clinic to get your bottom surgery done at. she says its cheap, not gatekeepery, and the results are good, even if the doctors a little skeevy. youre at the address she gave you and are wondering how exactly your murder will go down. the door is on a third floor landing accessible only from a fire escape out of a back alley in the worst part of town youve ever seen. you knock three times and the door is answered by a ratty-looking woman with a severe slouch smoking something that doesnt smell like nicotine and doesnt smell like marijuana. her wavy blonde hair is unkempt. shes wearing an oversized grey hoodie that hasnt been washed in some time. you can identify blood on the left sleeve and vomit across much of her side, as well as other, more mysterious stains. you cant tell if shes wearing anything underneath the hoodie. the inside of the apartment - because it is, very clearly, her apartment - has a smell that you cant place but, if pressed, would probably call sweat, though you know that description is lacking something.
dr davis, you ask. she smiles wide, and her teeth are shockingly good for the state the rest of her is in. just call me riley, she says. never did get a degree.
she ushers you inside and sits you down on a sofa almost as stained as her hoodie. can i get you a drink she asks. a drink, you repeat, dazed. she says yeah. she says she has diet coke, beer, vodka, and coffee. says she used to keep tea around for a friend of a friend but she hasnt come by in a few years and the leaves are probably losing flavor by now. you say just waters fine. she shrugs and says your funeral. she comes back from the kitchen and sweeps some stuff off the coffee table. you see a stray scalpel, a roll of gauze bandages, a soda cup from taco bell, and various crumpled papers amongst the rubbish that she knocks aside before setting down your glass of water. she has a beer in her own hand and pops the cap off with her teeth, though the motion isnt quite how youre used to seeing people do it. she takes a big gulp before she keeps talking.
so what do you want your pussy to look like, she asks. you splutter a bit. she says you are the one who needed their bits redone right. you flush and say yeah thats me. she nods and says right so what do you want. you struggle to give a good answer and she starts asking questions. depth? width? color? clit size? you give your answers falteringly. she starts asking about labia. oh, you dont want dentata, do you, she says. that costs extra. you say you dont know what that means. she says dont worry about it. hey do you wanna get pregnant? you splutter again. not now she clarifies. well i can get you pregnant now too if you want that. doesnt even have to be human i think i have some horse sperm around here if you want. i just meant like ever in the future. you say you dont know. she says okay shell leave it out for now but come back if you ever want her to put the womb in. youre too stunned to reply.
she says oh do you want to keep your dick, i can do that. you say you thought they needed the tissue from the penis in order to make the vaginal lining. she laughs and takes another gulp from her beer. she says so is that a no. you say you guess you hadnt thought about it. she says she can reschedule if you need to think, no rush. you say no i guess i dont want it anymore. she nods and says come back if you change your mind.
she says ok, i think i can start operating now if youre ready. you say okay and she tells you to lie on your back and strip naked. you follow her instructions. youre still not sure if youre going to die today or not. she pulls on a big pair of rubber gloves. not latex medical gloves, they're yellow dishwashing gloves. she grabs a small jar of what looks like petroleum jelly off a shelf nearby. you cant help but notice that theres also lube, condoms, saran wrap, and a bottle of honey on the same shelf. you dont ask. she starts vigorously rubbing the jelly into your skin from the belly button down. everywhere it touches you instantly go numb. she keeps talking while she works. a lot of it is her telling stories about "her amy." you cant tell if amy is a sister, wife, or pet. she might be all three.
she reaches up to grab an empty syringe off the top shelf. when she stretches you notice shes naked under the hoodie. you look away bashfully. she doesnt seem to notice.
she fills the syringe with liquid from a bucket in the closet. the liquid is neon green. she injects it into your inner upper thigh. you are now certain you're going to die today, but you cannot make a break for it with your legs numbed, so you wait.
she says okay this is the part where a lot of people get squeamish so look away if you think you might get sick. she pulls out a set of knives. some of them look like dentistry tools, some of them are medical scalpels, and some of them are kitchen knives. you look away. she starts humming to herself while she works. the tune is pop goes the weasel.
hey, she calls out to you from between your legs, how many nerves do you want in your clit? you say uh i dont know, whats a normal amount. she says about ten thousand give or take two thousand in either direction. you say ten thousand sounds fine. she doesnt respond, just goes back to humming. its a different tune. shes humming old macdonald now.
she gets up a couple times to grab new drinks. you say should you be drinking during an operation? she says dont worry i know what im doing. besides i never took the hippocratic oath. she laughs at that, the sound somewhere between a giggle and a cackle. you don't think its that funny. she resumes her work.
this time shes humming the alphabet song. you ask how old are you anyway? she says somewhere between 12 and 47. then she laughs again. you decide to stop asking questions.
four beers, two diet cokes, three unidentifiable cigarettes, and five hours later, she stands up and announces shes done. she wipes her brow without taking the glove off, smearing unidentifiable bodily fluids across her forehead. she jabs another syringe into your other thigh and the feeling returns to your lower body. you're a little sore but other than that you feel great. she wheels over a full length mirror and tells you to take a look. its perfect. youre everything youve ever dreamed you would be. you cant describe how euphoric it feels to see a vagina, your vagina, between your legs. you thank her tearfully. she smiles awkwardly. of course, shes saying.
how much do i owe you you ask. she shrugs. iunno, a hundred bucks? im not in it for the money. you pay her the hundred bucks and leave quickly. you barely remember to get dressed again before heading out. you have never seen Riley again.
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changisworld · 1 month
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Watersports with Seungmin
word count:2,022
18+, MDNI!! smut below the cut
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
Seventh part of my eight part masterlist of the extension of this & this headcanon of the members!!;3
Kinks & pleasures masterlist here main masterlist here
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->SMUT WARNINGS: Piss(obviously), dom!seung??, subbish reader, so much praise, face sitting, mention of omorashi, hair pulling, tinyyy bit of manhandling, fingering(f rec), cum eating, piss digestion, reader is a bit shy, but comes out her shell:3, seungmin cums untouched hehe
->If this isn't your cup of tea, simply don't read, I know this is a more of a taboo kink compared to pretty much everything I've written so far but ever since I've came to the realisation I luv it,I just needed an excuse to write it heheh, remember & always research new kinks before trying to stay as safe as possible!
You & Seungmin have clicked extremely well since the minute you both met, emotionally, physically & also sexually, very sexually.
You both quickly come to the realisation that you're both very open to trying new things & you both also fall into your roles almost instantly, it now being obvious that he is the dom & calls the shots, you have always been a switch but you never complain at the dynamics, on the odd occasion you try switch roles, Minnie is quick to shut it down (but you'll switch the roles one day)
When Seungmin was sitting with you in your bed, his head on your chest as you twiddle your fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp as you're just scrolling on your phone.
"Y/nnnnnn, I wanna tell you something." he speaks nonchalantly, elongating his words as his own eyes still glued to his own phone, you simply hum a 'mhmm', not expecting what he is about to say at all, but that's mainly your own fault because you should know that he really has no filter around you & the chances of him saying something outlandish is extremely high.
Seungmin takes a small but still overdramatic sigh before continuing He asks, his voice trying to sound natural but you know him far too well by now to know he is a bit nervous to ask & even more nervous to hear your response, turning up the volume by one on his phone to try ease the small bit of tension.
You already kinda knew this question was gonna come up at some point, as his obsession with making you squirt at least once every time you orgasm & also the way he just loves the look on your face & the ay you react when he forces you to hold your bladder while he gives you yet another drink.
"We could try it, but it's a bit scary, what if I embarrass myself or you like, throw up or something." you half joke, turning off your phone & tapping his cheek, indicating for him to look up at you, but he moves himself to look at you as he hugs into you, scoffing at your words.
"Wayyy worse things have happened during sex, remember when I literally almost died from when you almost snapped my banjo when you were on top! I know I won't throw up so don't be silly! I'm dying to try, nothing you do would make me cringe, unless it's you biting ice cream in front of me." he chuckles before kissing your cheek & flashing you his gorgeous toothy smile, his pretty cheeks pressing so cutely against his features.
That's how you've ended up in the position you're now in. You're laying on your back on your bed, with two layers of towels covering the duvet, because you for some reason both think just two layers is enough to keep your sheets dry. You're laying naked, your room a nice, warm comfortable temperature as a random christmas smelling candle is burning as seungmin is nibbling on your tongue as he kisses you deeply, him also being naked, not including just his boxers that are uncomfortably tight around his already hardening cock.
"Are you still fully sure you wanna do this? We can still do something completely different or we can do what we usually do, I won't be upset." Seungmin asks, his voice soft as he parts his lips with yours & looks into your eyes, his hand caressing your lower tummy, right above your full bladder from the multiple glasses of water you've drank just for this moment.
"Wanna do it, I trust you" you smile at him as your fingers daintily touch over his faint abs. Seungmin smiles at you that little bit extra as he nods his head & kisses your nose before he rolls you both over so you've switched positions, Seungmin now on his back & he is quick to grab onto you to help you straddle him as he shuffles his head off the pillows so his head is on the towel too.
He wraps his arms beneath your armpits & pulls you down to lock lips with you again as his fingers push down on on your bladder, making you squirm as you tense up in his hold.
"want you to sit on my face, c'mere" he rasps, excitement in his voice. You would say no to absolutely anyone else if they were to ever ask you, but you shove all your nerves about potentially hurting him down your throat as you follow what he says, almost as if you're in some sort of spell.
You position yourself above his face, his eyes glistening up at you, darting from your face, to your tits, down to your leaking pussy, admiring each one for the billionth time.
"You look so pretty from here, letting me do this to you, thank you jagi" he mumbles in awe as he pulls you down onto his face & the verbal response that you were gonna give him dies in your throat as you let out a gasp, his tongue not wasting even a second before he's making quick work of parting your folds with his tongue, groaning at your taste.
"Fuck Minnie, tongue feels so good" you whimper as one hand rests on the headboard of the bed & your other hand finds it's way into his hair, it's usual spot & you tug on it lightly, giving him the slightly painful but pleasure he is now addicted to.
Seungmin hums at the taste of you, the taste genuinely being in probably the top five things on this earth. His nose nudges against your clit as his tongue decides to get a stronger & deeper taste, fucking it's way into your soaked hole you accidentally grind on his face before putting a quick stop to it, but he is having none of it as he grabs onto your ass to push & pull you back & forth against his face, making your eyes scrunch closed.
You throw your head back as Seungmin's lips suckle on your clit, slurping your wetness & also his own spit back into his mouth before spitting it back onto you, just to repeat the process & your mind is going numb, you can already feel your orgasm starting to bubble but you're forcing yourself to hold back.
You keep mumbling out small praises to the man sucking your soul out of your body, his tongue curling around your button & kitten licking it at a rapid pace. One of his hands move from your ass & lands it on your lower tummy before he starts pushing down on the skin, not too much but enough to make you quease at the feeling, making you try jolt away from the feeling, but he's quick to keep you in place.
"Seung, wanna cum" you whimper as you look down at him, his eyes already looking up at you in almost amazement, looking up at you if he is the cat that got the cream & in his mind, he has.
He lifts you off him just enough to finally speak, using the opportunity to also actually breathe since he's been too happy in between your thighs that he's forgot how to actually take a breath.
"Don't cum till you do what we agreed, maky? Want it so bad, let go for me" he pants, his lower face shiny with your arousal. While he says this, he enters two fingers into you, so you're still getting some sensation & to make sure your upcoming release doesn't completely disappear.
"Don't needa pee Minnie" you whimper, obviously lying as your hips thrusting to get more feeling from his fingers curling inside you, hitting just the spot & Seungmin pouts as he presses even harder down on you bladder & you squeak, clenching has hard as you can to not burst & he tuts.
"Don't lie, you're so good f'me all the time so don't stop now, wanna taste you as much as possible hunny" he purrs before pulling his fingers out of you & then pulling you back onto his face, getting back to massaging your cunt with his tongue as he then taps his two fingers at your lips & you open your mouth to suckle on them instinctively, but all the while, the urge to just completely relax & let go is getting more & more tempting.
Your legs begin to tense up & start to shake as he keeps pushing on you bladder as his tongue suctions onto your clit, his pretty pink lips wrapped around it & by the way your thighs are moving around his head, he knows you're close.
"G-gonna pee Min, wanna cum" you squeak finally swallowing the last part of the pride you have left & you stop clenching, letting all your muscles react & before you have even a second to stop yourself or have any second thoughts, you've let go & a golden stream escapes you, coating the man beneath you's face, your own thighs & also quickly making it's way through the layers of towels, no doubt soaking the sheets below, not that you could be paid to care anyway.
Seungmin moans at the sight & taste, the taste so completely raw & unfiltered in the best way possible as he pulls you just off his face & he slithers three fingers into you this time, bullying into your G-spot as the gush slows down, but your orgasm does anything but that, as you feel it catching up to you quicker than you think it ever has before.
"So good for me y/n, so beautiful, I can tell you're close, cmon" he purrs, looking up at your shaking frame as he is bashing his fingers against your gummy spot & his words just push you over the edge.
You were already clenching around his fingers before, but he is convinced you're gonna rip off his fingers with how hard you're clenching around him as you grip onto the headboard with both hands as you're breathing rapidly, letting out a squeal as you cream around his fingers.
Your orgasm seems to be lasting forever but who is Seungmin to complain? He came five minutes ago untouched so he is just honoured that you're cumming because of him.
Once you settle down & are actually able to open your eyes, Seungmin slowly removes his fingers from your gushing cunt & helps move you so you're laying on the only dry spot left on the bed, which just gets wet anyways as Seungmin moves around, your piss dripping down his pretty toned skin onto the bed.
"How was it? Be fully honest!" you ask, slightly nervous for his response, kinda terrified in case it was nothing like he wanted or expected it to be. "Better than I thought, thank you for letting me try it with you, trust me when I say I loved it, even came in my pants" he giggles & you look down & see a huge wet patch & you giggle back, blushing that you've had this effect on him.
"Let's get you & this room clean mkay? the room doesn't smell of christmas anymore" he teases as he helps get you in the shower before hopping in with you & helping you both clean each other.. after he strips the bedsheets.
->Anon list & tag list is open!
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megalony · 8 months
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Thank Me Later
This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by Anon. I hope you will all like it, I had fun writing this one. I'm trying to work through my requests as quickly as I can.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts
911 Masterlist
Summary: (Y/n) starts to feel unwell on shift and tries to sleep it off, but things go from bad to worse when she interrupts a thief at the station. Then becomes a hostage.
Enjoy.
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"What have we got today?" Evan leaned his arms onto the kitchen counter and arched his back out as he crossed one leg over the other. His head tilted to one side and he grinned as he watched Bobby take a large square dish out of the oven.
They were actually on time for tea today which was a miracle around the station. The bell hadn't sounded and dragged them off to a call out right in the middle of their meal or when they were just about to sit down and eat. Everyone could eat properly today, it had been a calmer day than they were used to.
"Pasta bake," Bobby looked up from the large serving bowl and smiled widely when he could see Evan's eyes widen happily.
"Do you want a drink?" (Y/n) looked up at Eddie as the pair of them headed up the stairs and turned to the left towards the kitchen. She knew he was keeping a slow pace to walk at her speed which had suddenly taken a very drastic decline, but he didn't say anything.
She could feel Eddie's hand hover over her lower back as he nodded and let her move in front of him towards the fridge while he went to sit down.
(Y/n) tried to calm her breaths but she bit down on her lip when her fingers curled around a glass and she realised her hand was shaking. All day yesterday she hadn't felt great but being on shift today only made her feel worse. They had been on a big callout to a car accident this morning and it had somehow snatched all of (Y/n)'s energy and left her feeling burnt out and dead on her feet.
Deep down, she knew she was probably coming down with something. She was hungry but the smell and the thought of food made her uneasy and her head was pounding like she was being hit with a hammer. But she didn't want to go off sick. (Y/n) couldn't leave the station in bother when they had three people off this week and someone had been snatched for another station that was low on regulars.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she poured two glasses of juice and dug her nails into the glass so harshly her fingers began to throb and ache. She couldn't risk dropping the glasses.
It was a relief when she shuffled over to the table and was able to put a glass down in front of herself and Eddie. She let herself flop down into her seat and took a second to tilt her head back and close her eyes, relishing in the way her muscles stopped aching and weighed down when she sat and relaxed.
"Are you alright?"
A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes snapped open when she felt Eddie's lips hover over the shell of her ear as he leaned close enough that his chest bumped her shoulder. And when his hand gave her knee a squeeze, (Y/n) almost melted into a puddle in her chair.
Why did Eddie have to have such an effect on her?
They were friends. Good friends. Close friends. He meant everything to her but the closer Eddie got to her, the more (Y/n) started to panic. She didn't want to feel this way about someone she worked with. What if Eddie didn't feel this connection as deeply as she did? (Y/n) couldn't handle that kind of rejection and then go and see Eddie every day and work so close to his side that they almost felt like a married couple.
How could she watch his back when all she wanted to do was reel him close and kiss him? She couldn't look out for him when her mind was too focused on what he looked like out of the uniform.
(Y/n) realised she hadn't answered and quickly nodded her head despite the pain it caused to bolt down the back of her neck and how her eyes rolled and lost focus from the slight movement.
"Thanks," She whispered quietly when Hen held a plate of pasta out to her since she was the one dishing up the food today.
The steam coming from her plate made her nose crinkle and her head started to swim from the heat. She already felt like she was trapped in an oven and had to switch her button up shirt for a plain cotton shirt with no sleeves to let her body breathe and cool back down.
Two bites of pasta had (Y/n) pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she willed herself not to throw up at the dinner table.
Her head tilted down and she took a few deep breaths, trying to keep her food down as she set down her fork and grabbed her glass instead. Maybe skipping lunch would be a good idea to let her body settle. She could try and eat better when they had tea later on in the shift.
Eddie cleared half his plate before he tilted his head down to the right and realised (Y/n) hadn't eaten more than three forkfuls. His brows furrowed and he put down his fork so he could slide his hand beneath the table and give her knee another squeeze to grab her attention. He could see she wasn't paying attention to the conversation floating around the table and frankly, neither was he.
His full attention was landing on (Y/n) now.
She had wobbled when they got out the truck earlier and he had to grab her before she fell down to her knees. He knew she hadn't eaten breakfast this morning and she had almost lost her footing again on the stairs a while ago. She was having dizzy spells and that was beginning to concern Eddie.
"What's wrong?"
Turning in his seat, Eddie moved so his body was facing (Y/n) and he stretched his right arm behind her and gripped the back of her chair. While his left hand propped his chin up and he tilted his head at an angle to look at her. No one else was paying them much attention so it didn't matter if he turned his back on the rest of the table to give (Y/n) his full attention.
"Eddie…"
Her head was splitting like someone was banging a drum so harshly that her head was ripping open at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even see anymore. All she could make out were the black and white sparkles blinking in front of her eyes.
"Hm?" He pursed his lips and dared to move his hand from her chair to rest on her back but his pupils blew wide when he felt her body loosen and watched her head drop forward.
As quick as anything, Eddie lurched his left hand forward and cupped his palm against (Y/n)'s temple to stop her face from landing in her dinner. He held up her head and slid his right arm down her back to wrap around her waist.
"Shit!"
Eddie scraped his chair back and gave it a swift kick so it was out of his way so he could crouch down beside (Y/n). He tilted her head back and cupped the back of her neck so her head didn't flop backwards and hurt her neck. And his other hand pressed against her neck just below her chin to feel her pulse which was running high.
His thumb brushed through her hair against her neck and he shifted his other hand higher to cup her cheek. He tilted her head down towards him and leaned up to check her pupils when her eyes slowly started to flicker open.
"(Y/n), are you with me?" Eddie could feel Hen hovering at his side, waiting to be given the order to go and get one of the medic bags so they could properly assess (Y/n).
She had only blacked out for a few seconds but it was enough to panic all of them. Especially Eddie.
(Y/n) let her head flop forward until her chin was pressed down into her chest but she managed to raise her hand enough to curl her fingers around Eddie's wrist and hum quietly. Her head kept pounding and the blood seemed to fizle and pop in her ears, but she could start to see again now without spots and dots flickering in front of her eyes. And she could hear Eddie's serenading voice in her ears.
She didn't realise how close he was until his thumb lifted her eyelid to check her pupil and she came face to face with his melted chocolate eyes.
Her heart did another leap in her chest when Eddie pressed the back of his hand against her temple. And (Y/n) let her head tip forward so she could brush her nose against his wrist while her fingers stayed curled around his other wrist.
"You're burning up."
"Alright, I think your shift is over." Bobby leaned his hips back against the table and folded his arms over his chest. His expression stayed stoic yet firm when (Y/n) groaned and tried to look up at him.
Her shift was almost over but she had another two and a half hours left, the same as Eddie. She couldn't leave now, especially not if they got another call out.
Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s stomach and fireworks flickered in her fingertips when Eddie cupped her chin and tilted her head up. He stayed crouching in front of her and stayed silent, watching to see if she could hold her head up and if she was properly conscious.
His hand dropped from her face and (Y/n) suddenly felt cold and deflated until she felt where his hands moved to. One hand curled around her upper thigh and started to squeeze reassuringly while his other hand held her wrist and counted her pulse.
"You don't look good," Evan commented quietly, taking a swig of his drink as he leaned over the table to look at her. She looked sick. Sweating, unfocused vision, trembling and barely lucid. She wasn't well.
"Pulse is evening back out but I don't trust you to drive home." Eddie looked down at his watch before he looked back up between Bobby and (Y/n). "If you hang on I'll take you home when I finish." There was no way anyone was going to let (Y/n) drive home, not when she was burning a fever and she looked about ready to collapse again. She could have another blackout and that would be a disaster waiting to happen.
If she stayed here and tried to rest, Eddie would happily take her home when their shifts ended which wouldn't be long anyway.
He was relieved when (Y/n) nodded. She wanted to stay at the station and finish her shift. She wanted to be around Eddie. He made her feel better and right now, with his hand digging into her thigh, (Y/n) was fighting the urge to squirm and jump down into his lap.
"I'm okay," Her eyes flitted around to everyone but Eddie, trying to tell them that they could sit down and eat their dinner again. She didn't want to cause any more distraction and stop everyone from finishing their meal if the alarm sounded. Not that it bothered Evan who was practically finished now. She wanted them all to go back to their seats; everyone but Eddie.
Her hands moved to hold Eddie's biceps when he stood up and gripped her elbows, helping her up even though she didn't know what he was doing or where he was trying to take her.
His arm swooped around her waist and his hand pressed against her back between her hips and he guided her towards the stairs.
"Your shift hasn't ended yet," She whispered quietly, wiping her arm against her temple that was still flushed.
"I know, but if you're waiting for me to take you home then I need you to rest. Go sleep in the bunker until our shift finishes." The last thing Eddie wanted was for (Y/n) to bustle about the station trying to help out and overdo things. She was burning up a fever and she didn't look well. Eddie wanted her to try and take it easy and rest until he could take her home.
And if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he would actually be taking (Y/n) home today. He might bring her back home with him so he could make sure she was alright. The last thing (Y/n) needed was to be ill and alone at home when she could stay with Eddie and Chris. It would stop Eddie from fretting about her.
A jolt ran down (Y/n)'s spine and her hand lurched around Eddie's bicep when the alarm bell sounded just as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She could feel Eddie's fingers digging into her back and his other hand grabbed her arm to steady her.
"Come on," He mumbled quietly as he guided (Y/n) down the corridor towards the bunker room. He wanted to make sure she actually laid down before he had to go out on this call. He knew what (Y/n) was like and if they went out on a call, she would end up cleaning and tidying and overdoing things.
(Y/n) could feel her mind starting to shut down the moment she flopped onto one of the cot beds. Her knees coiled up to her stomach and she wound one arm to her waist but in a moment of courage, (Y/n) curled her hand around Eddie's and brushed his hand against her cheek.
"I won't be long. Try and get some sleep, love."
Fireworks ignited throughout (Y/n)'s temple and down to her stomach that pumped with adrenaline when she felt Eddie's lips press against her temple. He had never done that before. Maybe he was doing it because she wasn't feeling well and he wanted to calm her down and reassure her.
But (Y/n) hoped the reason was because he secretly felt the same way she did.
***
(Y/n) could feel a storm rolling in behind her eyes and spreading all throughout her head when she groggily opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Her body swayed back and forth when she moved into an upright position on the small cot bed.
Her head lolled back and her eyes moved from left to right until they managed to regain focus again. A groan tumbled past her lips as her hands moved to slam down on the bed to prop herself up but her elbows were shaking and shivers rushed throughout her body.
When the drowsy feeling finally started to dissipate, (Y/n) flopped her head forward and tried to take deep breaths to clear the spots in front of her eyes.
Her hand moved to swipe against her forehead and she grimaced and cringed silently. Her body was flushed and covered in sweat.
Her fever was getting out of control.
It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long, but she couldn't be sure. She felt like she had only managed a ten-minute power nap but her churning stomach and throbbing head told her otherwise. Maybe she needed to go get a drink and wait out front for the team to come back. Once Eddie was back, he would be taking her home because he was right, (Y/n) was in no fit state to drive herself anywhere.
"Fuck," Her knees jerked back and forth when she stood up and her body dithered, deciding whether she could stand on her own two feet or if her weight was suddenly too much to handle.
Her balance felt off. It felt like her centre of gravity had shifted to the left and (Y/n) found her head and shoulders tilting to the left which made her body stumble in that direction when she aimed for the door.
This wasn't good. Eddie was right, she was coming down with something.
The station felt odd and uneasy when there weren't many people milling about the place. She had been left at the station by herself a few times for various reasons, but when she felt ill, the station suddenly felt gloomy and unsafe.
As she wandered down the hall, (Y/n) reached her hand out and trailed her palm across the wall to steady and support herself so she didn't end up taking a tumble down to the floor. Her body aimed to turn left but she stopped walking and looked across to the right when a sound caught her attention.
The only room down that small corridor was Bobby's office. Her feet fumbled beneath her when she darted a glance ahead of her. The fire trucks and the ambulance were gone. The team hadn't come back yet and Bobby wouldn't hang back at the station if the team went out on a call.
So who was in his office?
(Y/n) let her shoulder slump against the wall as she dithered down the corridor. Her heart started to beat faster in her chest when she noticed Bobby's office door was slightly ajar.
She couldn't recall whether Bobby locked the office when he wasn't here or not. It wasn't like the station was ever empty. Someone was always here, they were open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There would always be people on shift and no one needed to go ransacking his office for anything. He had nothing of value hidden in there and no one who worked here would need to snatch anything from the office.
"What are you doing?" Her voice came out rather authoritative and her arms moved to cross over her chest.
She stood in the doorway of the office, frowning across at someone she didn't recognise. (Y/n) had worked at the station for over a year now, she knew everyone who worked here and she knew a few people from the other stations too. She didn't recognise the man in front of her which meant he didn't work here.
Begging the question, what was he doing in Bobby's office? What was he looking for?
(Y/n) realised a second too late that she had walked in on a very, very bad situation.
The man in question was wearing all black; trousers, boots, hoodie and gloves. The only thing he was missing was a mask. The drawers in Bobby's desk were all pulled out and ruffled through, papers were spilling over the edges, pens and stationary littered the floor and almost everything had been pushed off the desk onto the floor.
The cupboards behind the desk were currently being rooted through and by the stranger's foot, there was a duffle bag that was currently empty. He was trying to raid the station.
"Don't make this harder for both of us. Where's the valuables?"
Despite the panic rattling through her chest, the pain bolting across her temple and the unease clouding round her like a fog, (Y/n) managed something similar to a smile. Did he mistake the station for a bank or a posh mansion? What kind of valuables did he think they kept round here? This was a fire house, a place for emergencies. They sent out medical equipment and had ladders and jaws and electrical devices to help get people out of all sorts of situations and fires and people in medical distress.
They weren't a jewellery shop, stashing diamonds and necklaces in safes locked away in the office. They didn't keep money around the station either. Their wages were paid electronically and they had a bank card for any food or equipment they needed to buy; no cash was left on the premises, except for staff wallets in their lockers.
"This is a fire station, we don't have any valuables you can take. You need to leave." (Y/n) began to tap her fingers against her arm and her teeth ground together. She was ill, she wasn't in the mood to argue with a very bad thief. She would give him a head start and let him leave before she called Athena to report this.
"I'm not leaving until I have something of value with me."
"Then I'll call the police."
(Y/n) wasn't playing games, she knew she looked the picture of death right now and she was in no mood to negotiate or help him loot the station.
Her mind was already trying to fathom where she last had her phone while she took two steps back into the corridor and turned around. She wasn't standing around to watch, she would find her phone and call the police and try to contact Bobby to see if they were on their way back yet.
"I don't think so." That voice sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and her feet started to flop and curl in a hurried attempt to start running. She needed a phone, she didn't want to get attacked.
A scream fell past (Y/n)'s lips and her hands moved to cup over her ears when a gunshot rang out through the air. Her body jolted to the left and slammed into the wall, the shock making her knees buckle until she slumped down onto her knees on the floor.
He had a gun.
Where did he get that from? She didn't see it on the desk or in his hand when she looked him up and down. He must have hidden it in his jeans or in the duffle bag by his feet. This changed things. (Y/n) couldn't try snd outrun him when she wasn't in the best state and he seemed willing to shoot her down. She was going to have to comply.
Her eyes snapped closed and her hands let go of her ears to hold out in front of her when she felt a rough hand tangle in her hair and wrench her head backwards. Her neck cricked with pain and her features scrunched up into a wince as she swallowed down a cry.
She braced her hands on the wall to help herself stand up when he all but dragged her to her feet by her hair. But when (Y/n) felt the barrell of the gun press down into her back between her hips, her body turned to jelly and she wobble don the spot.
"Now, you're going to show me where all the good stuff is that I can flog, and I might not shoot you at the end of this. Okay?"
"Hm." (Y/n) did her best to nod her head in agreement but when he harshly shook her head back and forth, bile rose in the back of her throat and she wavered on the spot.
"Well?"
"I-inventory… you can take t-the equipment, hacksaw, medical stock, it'll sell quick." (Y/n) opened her eyes but she could barely get her vision to focus down the hall.
He could take anything from the stock room. They had spare axes, hoses, jaws for car crashes. And any of their medical equipment would sell on the black market and to dodgy clinics all around LA. Everything they had in inventory would sell somewhere and get a good price. It might not be as good as stealing cash or jewellery or selling documents, but it was as good as he was going to get from the station.
"Let's go."
He ragged (Y/n)'s head back until she was almost touching his shoulder, then he suddenly gave her a rough shove forward and had her tripping over her feet. (Y/n) bound one arm around her chest and trailed her left hand along the wall to steady herself and to try and stay upright when her head was turning to mush and her body was ready to drop.
Why couldn't the team have come back already? He wouldn't be much of a match for any of the guys here. Evan and Eddie could of tackled him easily before he produced the gun and they could of outnumbered him.
(Y/n)'s feet stumbled beneath her and she stopped walking when they moved towards the main floor of the station.
The ambulance was parked up. The truck was reversing back in its usual spot. The team were back.
This was not going to go down very well.
His hand left her hair and moved to scrunch up the back of her shirt so he had a good grip in case she tried to move away from him. The gun moved higher until it was pressed between her shoulders and he stood tall behind her, keeping his chest touching her back so she knew he was in charge of this situation.
"Quick." He hissed in her ear and (Y/n) shakily pointed towards the right near the lockers. Behind the gym was the inventory and stock room. They weren't going to get over there without someone seeing them, surely he had to know that.
"(Y/n), hey are you feeling any better?"
Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she could feel tears creeping up in the corners of her eyes.
Eddie's voice made her stomach melt like snow and sent her heart jumping up into her throat until she couldn't breathe. When she looked over her left shoulder towards him, a single tear traced down her face. He was stood behind the truck with his hands on his hips, no florescent jacket on which exposed his bulging arms to her sight. His hair was askew in all directions and traces of mud and dirt coated his face.
His shoulders straightened out and he quirked a soft smile, showing his teeth and creasing his eyes that made (Y/n) feel like her heart had left her chest and gone straight into his hands.
His smile started to fade when she didn't answer him. Eddie tried to catch back his breath but his upper lip curled in distaste when he watched (Y/n) just stare at him like she suddenly didn't know how to speak. He could see she was trembling and even from this distance, he could tell her breathing was rapid and uneven.
"She's fine."
Eddie tilted his chin up as his jaw loosened so he could run his tongue over his lips. He narrowed his eyes while his hands tightened around his hips. Who the Hell was that stood behind her? Eddie didn't recognise him, he wasn't wearing any sort of uniform for the station or police or any other job.
"I wasn't asking you. (Y/n)… is everything okay?" He wouldn't move until he heard from (Y/n) that she was okay and there wasn't a problem here because she didn't look well or comfortable. And Eddie wouldn't have that.
(Y/n) rolled her lips together to stop herself from saying anything but her chest shuddered when she felt the gun press harsher into her upper back and the man tried to pull her to keep moving. Before she could think better of it, (Y/n) started to shake her head. She grounded her feet to the spot and pulled back when the man tried to drag her away.
Her head violently shook from side to side and more tears flooded down her face, making a fire spark within Eddie's chest.
"Eddie…"
"Let go of her."
With his hands clenched into fists at his sides, Eddie started to walk forward. He didn't know what was going on here but he didn't like it at all. (Y/n) was crying and she looked worried and there was a stranger stood behind her like he was threatening her.
"Alright, let's try this again."
Eddie stopped short and stumbled onto his back foot when a gun was suddenly pressed against (Y/n)'s temple.
(Y/n) bit down on her lip harsh enough to draw blood when his hand fisted in her hair again and tilted her head back near his. Her shoulders bumped into his chest and she coiled her arms up towards her chest, scratching her nails into her neck to try and calm herself down when the barrell of the gun moved to the right side of her head.
"Cap." Eddie tilted his head to the side and took a quick glance over his shoulder before he looked back at (Y/n). He held his hands out in front of him to show he wasn't about to lunge forward or get a phone and start calling the police. He wouldn't do anything to jeopardise (Y/n)'s safety. Never.
He could feel Bobby standing behind him and soon enough the rest of the team was crowding around, all stood in a line, their unease mingling together and radiating out around the station.
What were they supposed to do? How could they help (Y/n) when she was now a hostage?
What could Eddie do?
"Okay, everybody stay where they are. We're not going to do anything unless you say so. What do you want?" Bobby took two steps forward so he was in front of his team. He was the captain, he was the one who was in charge of the station and responsible for the team. He wouldn't let anyone get hurt if he could help it and he would try and negotiate and do whatever he was asked to keep his team safe.
"Everybody over there. Now."
When he pointed towards the locker room, Bobby nodded and moved his hands out to usher the team in that direction.
Chimney and Hen moved first, being the closest to the locker room. Evan followed behind and kept moving when Bobby patted his shoulder and nudged him to follow. Bobby turned towards Eddie and rested a hand on his shoulder but Eddie shook him off.
He wasn't going to go and sit in there and risk this man walk off with (Y/n). One look at her and anyone could see she was sick. She was flushed, sweating, shaking and could barely keep her eyes focused. She needed to see a doctor and get away from this stressful situation. Eddie wasn't leaving her.
"Eddie, come on-"
"Let (Y/n) come with us. We're complying, let her stay with us and you can take what you want." Eddie waved his hand out in (Y/n)'s direction, trying to get her to safety with them. None of them were going to tackle him or overpower him when he had a gun on them. Having (Y/n) in the locker room with them would make it better for this guy. He could go and take whatever he wanted without having to drag her along with him.
"She's my security, she stays with me."
(Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath but it didn't relieve the lightheaded feeling swamping through her temple.
"Look at her, she's gonna collapse. Take one of us instead, she won't be much security when she drops."
The way Eddie raised his brows and jutted out his jaw made (Y/n) shiver and she tilted her head back when she realised what he was hinting at. Her lips pressed together tightly and she held her breath for as long as she could until her head weighed down and her body started to shudder.
It wasn't hard to let her muscles go limp and when the man's hand tightened in her hair and became the only thing holding her up, (Y/n)'s vision went black. She could barely register the noises around her and she didn't feel the way her body thumped against the ground when he let her drop down.
Eddie stomped his foot and growled when Bobby grabbed his shoulder, stopping him from lunging forward to grab (Y/n) before she hit the floor.
"You, come with me. You, take her in there."
That was all Eddie needed to hear. He kept his eyes focused on (Y/n) instead of the gun that was pointing at him in case he made any sudden movements. He bashed his knees down into the floor and gently cradled the back of (Y/n)'s neck so he could pull her head up and rest her cheek against his shoulder. His hand moved round to her back and his other arm slid beneath her knees.
"I got you, I got you." He muttered quietly against her temple when he stood up and headed towards the locker room.
As soon as he was inside, Eddie went down on his knees again and gently eased (Y/n) down on the floor. He shifted her round so her back was slumped up against his chest and he curved his arm around her waist while his other hand moved to cup her jaw.
Hen slumped down next to Eddie while Chimney and Evan sat on the bench, all of them grimacing when Bobby locked the door and gave them a pointed look before he followed the gun man down the corridor towards the inventory room.
"(Y/n)… look at me," Eddie brushed his thumb against her jaw and gently moved her head to try and bring her back around. She had tried to make herself collapse and had blacked out in the process. "She's burning up, she might have an infection."
"Pulse is very fast, I'd take a guess that her BP is too high as well. We have to get her to the hospital." Hen held (Y/n)'s wrist in her hand and counted her pulse which was way too high. She was at risk of going into cardiac arrest or having breathing problems if this continued. She she still wasn't lucid yet, her eyes were fluttering about but the only movement she had was her body trembling in Eddie's arms.
"Then we get out of here, now."
Pushing forward, Eddie carefully eased (Y/n) forward until her head was on Hen's shoulder so he could get up. He looked at Evan and pointed at the fire extinguisher, that was their only weapon of defence and their attacker couldn't do anything if they blasted him with a concentrated amount of CO2 from the extinguisher.
Eddie pressed his forehead against the window and took a look around, making sure Bobby and the man weren't coming back yet before he pulled back. He closed his eyes, leaned his chest back and rammed his elbow into the window with as much force as he could manage.
The glass splintered around his joint, imbedding in his skin and trickling blood down his arm towards his fingers, but the adrenaline coursing through his body countered the pain and panic he was feeling. Eddie reached his hand through the broken glass and unlocked the door before he turned back around and leaned down.
"Everybody in the ambulance. Go." He waved an arm at them to make them move before he looked down at (Y/n). "Up we go, sweetheart."
Eddie grabbed (Y/n)'s right arm and curled it around the back of his neck before his right arm clamped down around her bum, hoping she would excuse the touch before he hoisted her up. He straightened up and slumped (Y/n) over his right shoulder, feeling her forehead press into his back and he heard her groan something incoherent as he juggled her a bit higher up so she was secure.
His chest tightened when he realised he had a great view of her arse right next to him. His arm bound around the back of her thighs and he turned around and made a break out of the locker room.
Hen and Chimney sped towards the ambulance and Eddie cringed when Evan turned on the extinguisher, trying his best to aim for the gun man and not Bobby. The last thing he wanted was to incapacitate their captain too.
Bobby seemed mostly unaffected and braced himself before he slammed his forearm out into the man's throat, smacking him straight in the windpipe which immobilised him. He fell down to his knees in time for Bobby to grapple the gun out of his hand, urging them all to move.
"Go!" Evan pressed his hand to Eddie's shoulder and smashed his other fist down on the side of the ambulance when Eddie was in the back with Chimney and Hen was in the driver's seat. Evan closed the door, closing them inside before he took a step back so he was out the way. He would stay behind with Bobby and wait for the police and to be safe in case another call out came through the tanoid.
A weak groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when she felt herself being slumped over from Eddie's shoulder and down onto the gurney. Her arm bound around her chest as she began to cough and wheeze, trying to slow down her breathing because her pulse was throbbing in her ears.
Her head twisted from side to side when she felt one of them trying to press an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose.
"Sweetheart it's to help you, come on let me help you, please?" Eddie leaned over the gurney and braced his shoulder on the wall when Hen took a sharp right turn that had them jolting back and forth.
He brushed his thumb against (Y/n)'s jaw before he placed the oxygen mask back over her nose, relieved when she stopped fidgeting and trying to push him away. It was to keep her system going and make sure she was alright, he wasn't trying to hurt her or do this to be cruel.
(Y/n) flopped her arm out when she managed to focus her eyes enough to see Chimney holding a blood pressure cuff. But she moved her free hand out and grabbed Eddie's hand that was hovering near her neck. She caught his attention and he leaned down closer when she tugged on his hand and brought it down to her chest.
"What, sweetheart?"
He refrained from rolling his eyes when (Y/n) scratched the mask down until it flopped on her chest and she could look up at him. Her lips quirked into a dazed, tight smile but it was enough to make Eddie's heart flutter.
"Thank you," (Y/n) pulled on his arm again until she could flop her head forward and kiss his exposed arm.
She barely heard Chimney mutter something about her blood pressure being high. She guessed he was going to find her some blood thinners when he turned his back to them and rummaged around in the drawers for something. His lack of attention gave Eddie enough time to lean down and press his lips against (Y/n)'s burning temple which made her heart flutter and her fingers tightened around his arm.
She almost saw stars in front of her eyes again when she felt Eddie's fingers fluttering up and down her chest before his lips moved down to hover over her ear. She could feel each panting breath against the shell of her ear that he kissed softly.
"Let me look after you now, then I'll think of a way you can thank me later."
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starrayblogs · 2 months
Note
Scenario or Headcanons of Tmnt (bayverse) x reader who is very friendly and affectionate (maybe crush or beginning of the relationship) but when she gets affection (the boys are e one starting it) she malfunctions? I’m talking getting clumsy, flustered, blushing, stuttering automatically, kinda comical tbh lol
Thank you and hope you have a good day!
ahh, thank you so much for the ask! :3 i hope i don't disappoint, so here goes nothing!! also, likes and reblogs are appreciated as usual ✩
pairings: (bayverse) leonardo x reader, raphael x reader, donatello x reader, and michelangelo x reader (gender neutral)
will include: fluff
while you're usually the more outgoing one in terms of affection, it's not an excuse for your favorite turtle to be reserved with his. in fact, he has his shining moments!
Leonardo
i personally see leo's favorite form of affection is through a kiss
you frequently give him kisses when you see each other and when you're about to part ways after spending time with each other
leo's favorite place to be kissed is on his cheek. he thinks it's sweet and endearing!
he still remembers the first time you did it to him
"See you tomorrow." Leo bows his head down shortly, before he meets your eye again. He turns his back around to make his jump down the fire exit to your apartment, but he feels you tap on his shell.
When he turns around, he's surprised at how swift you are to plant a kiss on his cheek. It was soft, and he wished it lasted longer.
"Goodnight, Leo." you grin, holding your chin up on your palm as you wave the turtle goodbye.
you know he enjoys the gesture, and you enjoy doing it too him as well. so, it's a win-win situation
until, one night, leo decided to turn the tables around you
You just finished brewing two cups of tea for you and Leo. You held the mugs and carefully made your way back to the dojo, where Leo was sitting and having trouble meditating. You offered to make him a cup of tea, and decided to make yourself one too.
"Here," you offer him his mug, "is your tea. I made sure to brew your favorite pack." You smile at him as he takes his cup from you.
"Thank you." He returns the smile. You hum, taking a seat next to him and blowing the steam away from your tea.
You didn't notice that Leo hadn't stopped looking at you.
You were so focused on drinking your tea, you didn't register that Leo had gently pulled your head towards him.
Then, you felt him kiss the top of your head.
Out of surprise, you spit your tea back in the cup abruptly. This backfires on you, because the hot liquid splashes you in the face and you shriek.
"Oh my mutagen, are you okay!?"
you were flustered that night. when leo usually gives you affection, it's in return of what you gave him
however, that day, he did it without you initiating it first- which is what caught you off guard
leo jokes and laughs about that night as much as he can, making your cheeks red from embarrassment
there is one more thing, however
"I still can't believe you actually spat back the tea over that." Leo finishes his sentence after a while of laughing, while you were busy covering your face and groaning into your hands.
"Leo, pleaaaaase. I beg you to forget about it." You whine, albeit muffled.
And since you were covering your face, you had fallen for the tricks of the mighty leader. Which is using this moment to press a kiss on your head again while pulling you close to him.
"Oh my gosh– Leo!" You uncover your red face to look up at him. He just smiles back before kissing you on the lips this time.
Raphael
i like to think that raphael loves callsigns. however, there are different types to these nicknames
there's obviously the nicknames he uses on the bad guys to demean them
then there's the nicknames he uses on his brothers to annoy them
then there's the nicknames he uses with you (yet)
you see, when you first met, you were already calling raph different things
"Hey, hotshot, could you grab me a slice?" You ask Raph from the couch, turning yourself around to give him a pretty smile.
or...
"Raphie, have you seen my history notebook?" You come up to his room where he was doing reps. He nearly dropped the weights on his feet, had you not exclaimed in time for him to jump away.
it came natural to you to call him special nicknames
and it made raph soft. it made him feel special, because you never called his brothers the things you called him: hotshot, big guy, raphie, and, his favorite, handsome
but raph never showed how soft it made him, of course, it would ruin his tough guy reputation!
he thinks about the names you call him at the end of the day when he's laying in his bed
and, one day, he wakes up with the same confidence as you
You were pissed from school today. Your partner for the project the teacher gave for the period wasn't helping you at all and, somehow, they got all the credit.
You were heading down the ladder to the lair and when you turn your head around, you see Raph lounging by the table and watching the tv from afar.
You hurriedly get down the ladder and start stomping your way to the turtle, ranting about your day. You were standing next to him and obviously fuming, until...
"Slow down, gorgeous/handsome. Grab a slice, won't ya?" He smirks, throwing one hand behind the seat.
Your rant comes to a stammer as you feel your cheeks heat up. You slowly turn your head to the turtle, pointing a finger at him.
"E-Excuse me?" You stutter.
"I said... Relax and grab a slice, sweetheart." Raph chuckles, standing up from his seat and helping you into tour own.
He even had to help you eat, because somehow you were messing up eating a pizza from how flustered you were. He also waited until you could properly function again.
Only to call you with another nickname.
Donatello
personally, i don't see donnie as verbally or physically affectionate as his brothers
however, he is a sucker for acts of services
and it just so happens that you enjoy doing stuff for donnie. handing him beakers, writing down notes when his hands are too occupied, and bringing over food and telling him to take a break
"Hey, the guys ordered pizza." You step back in his makeshift lab with a plate full of pizza for you two to share.
You take your seat next to Donnie, who was soldering wires together for a new machine he was making. You hum, tapping on the table gently to break him from his focus.
You learned to not tap on his shell from the last time. You nearly got spilled with deadly chemicals...
Eventually, he pushes up his goggles and meets your eyes. His face softens into a smile and you could feel your heart swell with joy.
"Time to take a break, Donnie." You tell him, watching him set aside his project before you place down the plate of food to share.
"Thanks," he says, "I really would miss more meals if you weren't around." He adds, grabbing a slice. You click your tongue while shaking your head.
and once you're out of the lair, the rest of his brothers (without missing) collectively turn their heads to the lab to hear the squeal that echoes through the entire sewer
he goes to bed at night thinking of all the things you did for him that day
sometimes, he wishes he had the confidence you had to treat you just as fair
however, it's as natural to him as it is to you
You squirm uncomfortably on your chair because it was wobbling. That's unusual, considering Donnie does his best to make his workspace as comfy as can be to enhance his focus.
Donnie seemed to notice how uncomfortable you were and paused on his work. "Here," he stands up from his seat and guides you onto it. "Sit on my chair for now." He smiles at you before facing his work again. "I have a big suspicion that Mikey broke my chair bouncing on it earlier." He clicks his tongue as he rolls his eyes.
"Uh-Uh huh..." You reply softly, cheeks turning red and body turning stiff. You were so in your head, screaming about what just happened, you didn't notice Donnie glancing at you when he asked you to reach for his solder.
He chuckles and taps on the table space in front of you to break you out of your daze. You do, but there is still blush on your cheeks. "Did I do something wrong?" He asks softly and you quickly shake your head.
Michelangelo
this one is a bit difficult to write, considering mikey is the most affectionate of his brothers- but i realized something
other than april, vern, and casey, you're the only other human he's ever interacted with! what makes you different is that, you're more affectionate compared to the other three
he's not used to it! you're so sweet that he ends up freezing on the spot whenever you run up and give him a hug, which he returns ofcourse! after some stammering...
"Oh, hey Mikey!!!" You spot him at the bottom of the ladder as you make your way down and call for his attention. He looks up and grins, waving at you.
"What's up, my favorite human!?" He greets you back with just as much enthusiasm.
"Come on, catch me!" You yell and jump off from the ladder with the widest smile.
Mikey panics and quickly stretches out his arms to catch you. When you land in his arms with no effort, aside from a small 'umph!' from you once you landed, you're giggling and wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Nice catch!" You tell him, giving him a pat on his shell before asking him to put you down. You walked away to greet the other turtles, leaving the orange masked turtle in shock.
because you're the first human to ever be affectionate to him, he isn't as confident as he thought he would be when it came to this type of situation!
he likes you, definitely. so when his brothers find out, they all just laugh it up by saying its just his nerves.
mikey 'psh's them and says he doesn't get nervous around you
but sometimes he gets caught in the moment
You recently bought a new game and wanted to play it with the turtles! You got down to the lair and immediately invited the first turtle you saw, which so happens to be your favorite turtle.
"Mikey-angelo, my guy!" You grin and jump your way over to the couch, where he was. He greets you with the same enthusiasm and you two share a high five.
You mention the game and the two of you don't waste a second in getting it set up and handing each other the controllers. It was a multiplayer game and you two had to work with each other to reach the set goals.
You two played for a while and after an hour or two, you finally defeated a boss for the mission. You cheer from your spot on the couch and turn to high five the turtle, but...
He cheers louder and gets up from his seat, grabs you by the sides, and lifts you up. He spins you around in joy, and you would join him in cheering, but there was one problem.
You're so surprised by this that your face turns red as you admire the turtle's face. He had the widest smile, and you can tell how relieved he is to have defeated that boss. He looked so happy.
When he opens his eyes, he stops spinning you when he realizes what he's done. He begins to stutter as he awkwardly sets you down, and you turn your head in hopes to calm your blush by not looking at him.
Then he brings back your attention by asking, "let's order pizza?" You quickly turn your head back and nod frantically. You go for your pocket to pull out your phone, but it slips from your hand.
Mikey watches as you comically keep trying to catch your phone, but it keeps slipping until it falls on the floor.
You two stare at each other for a while, but it ends with the two of you eventually laughing.
"Who knew you to be the touchy turtle, Mikey." You comment between chuckles.
"I am! I am the touchy one! I just get nervous!"
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envy-of-the-apple · 1 year
Text
Sweet Home
idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 
(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)
Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader
Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 
It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 
At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 
But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 
“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 
It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 
You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 
Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 
“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 
He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 
“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 
You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 
He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 
So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 
You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 
“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 
You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 
“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 
He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 
It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 
“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 
 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 
You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 
You longed for home. 
He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 
“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 
Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 
“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 
You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 
There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 
Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 
Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.
You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 
Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 
Huh. 
You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.
Everything looked fine. 
Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 
“What are you doing?” 
You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 
You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 
You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.
Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 
“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 
He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 
He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 
Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 
“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 
His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 
“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 
You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 
The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 
“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 
He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 
You had joked with this man. 
“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 
“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 
“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 
You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 
“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 
It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 
But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 
You don’t want his pity. 
“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 
“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 
“Including you.” 
You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 
“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 
“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 
“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 
“Miguel-” 
“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 
You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 
Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?
Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 
“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”
You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 
“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 
You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 
“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”
He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 
“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 
Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 
“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 
For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 
A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 
“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 
“You are home.” 
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