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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N.

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️#dark fic

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lani-heart · 26 days

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ATEEZ -> HOW'D THEY GIVE ORAL?

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI ||

genre(s) -> reaction, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> ( separately ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> pure smut... like all of it is smut. MDNI

-> KIM HONGJOONG

Out of all of the members, Hongjoong is who I’d consider the biggest tease and menace. He’d mock you and overstimulate you, probably thinking of this as punishment if you act out. If you couldn’t handle cumming for the fifth time alone with him just eating you out he’d pout and also fake sympathize with you. He’d talk you through it and keep on making you cum even after your squirt. You already made a mess anyway so why should he stop? He isn’t the type to get off of your pleasure to worship you but does it more for entertainment to see you whine and squirm because of him. A huge sadist getting off on how you can’t take it anymore. Maybe even with a slight dumbification kink in there where you’d cum so many times that you can’t even think straight. Would doubt he’d even stop if you passed out ( he’d be worried and make sure you’re okay before going back at it ) and still tease you when you wake up.

“I can’t believe how big of a mess you’ve made… who’s gonna clean it up?” he would say and go back to eating you out saying he was simply cleaning the mess and you were making the mess bigger. “How is that my fault?”

-> PARK SEONGHWA

Arguably the best at oral. Also, the second biggest pussy whipped member here. I think he is one of the members who’d get off of your pleasure and want to hear you cum over and over again. He could skip the whole part of his pleasure and purely be satisfied with making you cum on his tongue alone. Not much of a talker like Hongjoong but instead is pussy whipped where nothing can pull him away from you. Stuck like this for hours or an eternity if he could. Even if you move to close your thighs while he’s still overstimulating you, he’d only chuckle. He wasn’t close to finishing… this was where he’d stay because this wasn’t just about pleasuring you but also his own pleasure. It was as if he was starving or thirsty and hadn't had water for days.

“Let me have one more, just one more time” he’d beg after you tried to pull him away too overestimated to continue further. Though one more… turned into two then three, etc. “Promise this is the last one”

-> JUNG YUNHO

I don’t see Yunho as the type who’d do oral often and would probably only do it as foreplay. Using his fingers more than anything and… we know why. When he would it would be a mix of foreplay and fingering. He isn’t a menace or as mean as other members but if you were to act out I see him more like being a jerk where he’d make you beg for him to pleasure you. He’d use oral as a way to tease you before finally giving in to what you want as well as adding fingers into the hither movement to try to make you cum or even squirt. I don’t see him doing it often for a long time but would do it briefly as foreplay.

“Why should I?” he’d tease to get you to beg before you were a whiny mess and laugh and smirk at your expression before kissing your clit. “Okay okay… we’ll do what you want for now”

-> KANG YEOSANG

This man is scheming… I can see him one day scrolling on Tiktok and finding that one trend of feeding your partner pineapple the whole day. He’d go to the store and buy a bunch of pre-cut pineapple and throughout the day when you’re busy, he’d feed you one until you either notice or you’ve finished the pineapple he bought. Once you finish it he’d have to try to get you into the mood where he’d decide today was an experiment so he’d worship you and tell you later. Though… if it did change something he’d become addicted. Probably would be stuck there for a while even after you come until it's too much after each time he makes you cum. He’d just praise you and how you taste that he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably also decide not to tell you about what he did anymore and implement pineapple in your permanent diet.

“You taste so good… just enjoy it” he’d say completely pussy drunk moaning into you making the pleasure even more unbearable while he wouldn’t even stop to breathe. “I don’t think I can get enough of you”

-> CHOI SAN

The manhandler… he would ask you to also sit on his face. He’s been working out a lot, after all, he could take it. If you were nervous about it he’d just pick you up from your thighs and lay down not letting you go. He wouldn’t even mind, he wants you to put your entire weight. However, I could see him as more of a giver than a receiver even if you offered to help him off when you're on top of him he’d deny it and whine and groan if you moved. Only tightening his grip on your thighs that you’d get bruises. I don’t think it helps that this whole era he’s been a cowboy, he probably also teased you that if you have the cowboy’s hat you’ll need to be able to ride him in return. He could do it for hours until he has no more self-restraint and you have enough pretty red hickies and even the yellow bruises that’ll turn purple tomorrow.

“I wanna show you why I’ve been to the gym” he’d say only encouraging you to sit on him and when you did his tongue would explore everywhere it could... barely even taking breaths in between. “Don’t be shy, princess”

-> SONG MINGI

I also don’t see him as someone to do oral often, probably more of a greedy lover for his own pleasure though I think he would like your reactions. Teasing you with pussy slaps in between him sucking your clit and edging you until you cry literal tears. He’d probably do it for his own entertainment rather than your own pleasure and would just tease you to later give you a bigger orgasm. He would also probably leave marks and would only stop once you’ve squirted. If you do come after all the edging he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and want to feel himself around you. Everything for him is just to see how you squirm and cum because of him.

“You were about to cum? I’m sorry love” he’d say teasing you and you would be able to hear his disingenuous tone. He’d go back to teasing making you cry. “Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?”

-> JUNG WOOYOUNG

Pussy Drunk. Gets off on your pleasure and will cum in his pants because of it. After a long day of choreo just to relax and get off he’ll trap you on the couch and piss your clit through your clothes until you finally agree and get rid of your sleeping bottoms. He’d probably make you keep your panties on. Tasting you through your underwear teasing and restraining himself until he couldn’t handle it and needed to taste you from the source. Would lose track of time that he’d probably get off by humping the couch or a pillow while hearing your moans and eating you out. I think he probably wouldn’t hear you if you started to whine out that it was too much and be so lost in your pleasure that you’d have to pull him away.

“Mmhmm… please I need one more” he’d beg and cry just to continue tasting you and of course how could you ever deny a tired and pouty Woo. “I just wanna feel and taste you some more”

-> CHOI JONGHO

He’d definitely use oral against you. Maybe the meanest member when it comes to punishment. He would tie you up, give you what you want until you beg to cum when he’ll stop and leave you in the room for in theory a few seconds but for you feels like forever wanting to cum so badly and wanting him to come back until you finally apologize for being a brat, begging for him to come back. He would tease you until you finally beg him to finish you off, he’d really only use oral during punishments or special occasions or… when he felt that you learned your lesson and should be rewarded.

“You’re sorry, right? I think we should reward good behavior” he’d tease seeing your pouty and tear-stained face before aiming to make you come. But when you do… it was really intense and– “You can give me a few more right? To make it up to me?”

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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incorrectbatfam · 3 months

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Bruce goes to meet the other fathers? Have a barbecue with Clark, Oliver, Berry and talk about their kids?

"Damian told me that I was cool, it's been a while since one of my kids told me that" or "Mia is doing so well at school these days"

those moments when they are all (old men) father proud of the mess the kids are?

The dads: *lounging on beach chairs*

Clark: It's nice to finally get a day off. I think Jon needed it more than me. He's still reeling from growing up and suddenly turning back into a kid again.

Ollie: How'd that happen, anyway?

Duke, walking by: That's just this blog.

Clark: What?

Duke: Nothing. Hey, B, can we use the jacuzzi?

Bruce: Sure, go ahead.

Duke: *gives Emiko a thumbs up*

Emiko: *drains the jacuzzi*

Harper and Cullen: *start cleaning the pipes*

Ollie: I know how you feel, Clark. Roy's the happiest I've seen him with Lian back but it's still a big change. We're working on getting her enrolled in school this fall so she can catch up on what she's missed.

Roy: *sprays the tub with disinfectant*

Jason: *dries it with a leaf blower*

Hal: Speaking of changes, Jaime graduated with honors. I know he's not my kid but I can't help but feel like a proud uncle. Kyle got a new concept artist job, by the way, and I think he really likes it.

Jaime: *turns the jacuzzi back on*

Kyle: *sets up folding tables*

Barry, chuckling: Bart tried to enter a marathon the other day.

Clark: Kon wanted to pay money to go skydiving. I don't get it.

Aquaman: I remember when Kaldur joined an amateur scuba class at that age. Perhaps it's an attempt to feel more human.

Bruce: It's easy for us to forget sometimes too.

Kon, carrying a giant pot: Boiling hot soup, coming through!

Kon: *pours it into the jacuzzi*

Cass: *adds spices*

Tim, with a clipboard: One down, eleven more to go. Bart, stop eating the ingredients.

Bart: It's just tofu.

Tim: That's for Damian. What's he gonna do now, starve?

Bruce: Dick's been coming home more often lately. I can tell Alfred's really happy when he sees us all together.

Dick: *drapes tablecloths over the tables*

Wally: *sets up plates*

Steve, walking in: Mind if I join? Diana's running a little late so she sent me and the girls ahead.

Clark: Of course, feel free.

Donna, holding a basket: Where do these vegetables go?

Barbara: I'll take them. Could one of you get some spoons from the kitchen?

Cassie: On it.

Steve: So where are all the ladies?

Bruce: They're in the living room. Selina's showing off her latest... um... collection. Alfred has tea in the kitchen if you want some.

Steve: Don't mind if I do.

Yara: Should I put the meat in now?

Jon: One sec.

Jon: *scoops some soup aside*

Jon: You're good now. I just needed a vegetarian portion for Dami.

Kon: MORE SOUP COMING!

Ollie: Honestly, I'm surprised everyone's doing fairly well given the industry we're in.

Steph, leading a crowd into the yard: And here's where our main event will be.

Bette: *checking names off a guest list*

Bette: That's almost everyone. Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are gonna be a little late. Avery's on a mission in Shanghai so she can't make it. Beast Boy and Raven stopped to buy desserts. And the We Are Robin kids just got stuck on a stalled subway train but they should be here pretty soon.

Clark: I think it's a matter of good mentorship and giving them plenty of time and space to get acclimated to the superhero lifestyle.

Jesse: *making lemonade*

Ace: *fills the coolers with ice*

Garth and Kaldur: *handing out drinks*

Barry: And giving them plenty of room to grow at their own pace.

Hal: Very true.

Bruce, sighing contently: You can't help but be proud of them.

The kids, chanting: HOT POT! HOT POT!

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messylustt · 1 year

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౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words

fic masterlist previous part pt six next part

mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.

Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.

As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."

"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.

You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.

You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."

"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."

"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.

You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"

"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.

You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.

You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."

"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.

You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"

Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."

You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.

"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.

Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."

"Hobie."

But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."

;;

You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.

"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.

"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.

"Apparently I'm not fired?"

"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."

"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"

Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.

"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.

"Actually a lot has happened."

"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."

Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."

"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.

Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."

"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."

And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.

Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.

You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?

Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.

When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.

But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.

It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.

You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”

Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.

Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.

You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.

You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.

“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.

“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.

Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.

“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.

“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”

“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.

Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.

Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.

“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”

“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.

“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.

Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.

Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.

“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.

You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.

“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”

“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.

Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.

“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”

You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”

A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”

Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”

“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.

“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”

“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.

“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.

“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”

“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”

“And it still is.”

“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.

But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.

“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”

“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.

“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”

And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.

Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.

There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.

And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.

But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.

So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.

He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.

At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.

“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”

“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”

You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.

“Many people use phones for different thin—“

Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”

You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.

“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.

Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.

;;

A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.

You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’

“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.

“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.

“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”

“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.

“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.

You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”

“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.

“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.

“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”

“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.

“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.

You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.

“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.

“Am I?” He again prays innocence.

“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”

“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.

“What?”

In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.

“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.

“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.

“Find what strange?”

“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.

“I’m not following.” You say slowly.

“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.

“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.

“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.

“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.

“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“

But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.

“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.

As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.

Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.

But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.

Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.

“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”

Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.

You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.

You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.

“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”

“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.

“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.

“Quiero ir a la feria.”

“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.

After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.

Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.

And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.

“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.

You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.

Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.

“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.

Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.

Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.

The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…

“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.

Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”

“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.

He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”

“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”

You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.

You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.

Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”

Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.

He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.

ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad

this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them

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taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6

#the miguel effect #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara smut #atsv #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman

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shojizbae · 5 months

Text

Yeehaw!

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: This is spicy! Use of alcohol, behind drunk/drunk sex, Oral fem! receiving, cowgirl position

Everyone could tell with just one look at you that you were Southern. That being said, anytime there was a case in the South, everyone knew to take a step back and let you lead. This time, there was a string of murders in Aiken, South Carolina, and the team knew that you were all over it.

"Weren't you from a Carolina?" Derek chuckles as we board the jet.

"Yeah, I spent most of my time on Camp Lejeune with my daddy, then I went south for college in Charleston."

"So that means Hotch has been demoted for this." Emily snickers

"No, I just know the South, and I'll get a little gun-happy when I'm back home. It wouldn't be no different had we gone to Chicago, Derek."

"Wow, mama's go home heat today." We settle on the jet, and Hotch and Rossi debrief us. I take a nap as we head south, and unfortunately, the power of the state takes me over. I march up to the sheriff and flash my credentials.

"So, how's it happen?" The sheriff speaks in an accent so thick it makes grits look like juice. I glance at the team, and they seem to sigh in relief when they realize I can understand him. Tirelessly, we worked the case for 73 hours. We met at a fresh crime scene every morning. The unsub seemed to be in a frenzy. He was dangerous and mixed with a high concentration of amphetamine addiction in this area. It was likely he had no clue he was killing.

But, due to the trace amounts of meth, we knew that he was unstable and would trip up eventually. We got some sleep after the fourth body, and there was a trip up in the morning. A fifth, but he had left some of his powdered sugar at the crime scene.

I put a glove on and lifted the little baggie, showing it off to Reid.

"Hey, Spencer, check this out."

"Hey, I've been clean for years," He mopes

"Aw, I'm sorry, sugar," A detective approaches me with an evidence bag. "Here, swab it and run this through CODIS." Spencer and I kept sweeping the crime scene for any molecule of evidence. Nothing all that exciting. The killer left the knife in her this time. Indicative of the fact that they were out of control. I squat next to the body and ghost my fingers over the entrance wound.

"Hey Spencer," He perks up like a gopher, "If you were going to kill someone and you were going to stab them to death, how'd you do it?"

"Are you sure that's an appropriate question?"

"I'm just curious."

"I'd probably use something with a curved blade. It would do the most damage and be the hardest to remove." His eyes go kind of dead, as he explains. An awkward air hangs between the two of us as we survey the wound.

"Damn, Spence, that's messed up."

"You asked." He sasses

Not later that evening, a woman called to suspect a strange man was in her house. We move in immediately and find a man pacing in circles in the bathroom. He's violent and angry, and his nose is bleeding. He tried to swing a knife at Morgan, but I grabbed him by the wrist and slammed his head into the wall. I use my hips to push him forward and cuff him while Emily helps the woman safely out of her house.

I march him to the car while he screams that I'm a bastard whore. Finally, I shoved him into the police car and muttered a good riddance. I even patted my hands like a baker getting flour off.

"I need a drink." I put my hands on my hips

"I could use something to cool off, too. This southern heat can be beat." Derek wipes his brow

"Hotch you think we have the leeway to spend the night here?" Emily asks

"That's all up to JJ, anything pressing enough that we need to get back to Quantico?"

"Well, nothing too scary that we couldn't cut loose after working for six days straight." She smiles at the team

Hours later, we showered, ate a full meal at a steakhouse, and put on the nicest clothes in our go-bags. The team was shocked to discover I had a cowboy hat in my bag. We moseyed our way to the bar, a small dive bar with a pool table. A mechanical bull is in the center of the room, and my eyes light up at the memories. Rossie buys us a pitcher of beer, and we all unwind from the stressful week.

As we knock 'em back slowly and let college stories fly, the team starts to forget what we had seen. Rossi tells us some funny stories about going to college during the summer of love, and Reid accidentally brags about going to Cal Tech.

"Well, what about you? Didn't you go to school nearby?" Emily says as she refills her glass.

"Uh yeah, in Charleston, South Carolina." I clarify

"So you must have spent most of your nights like this." Derek motions around the bar, playing honky-tonk music. Pool balls clack around us, and there's a thin layer of dirt around the edge of the bar.

"Well, most nights I spent in my dorm or the library. Every other Saturday, my roommate and neighbors would go to a dive named Fat Daddy's. We would make bets with the alcoholic dads about being able to ride the bull, and if we stayed on longer than they said so, they'd buy us all a drink. I didn't pay for my own liquor for three semesters." The team stood in shock. Hotch's jaw was agape and Rossi just nodded his chin in acknowledgement.

"Well, now, baby girl, I have to see you in action." Derek almost commands

"No, I ain't dressed right. And ain't nobody betted me."

"I bet you won't last seven seconds on the mechanical bull," Spencer interjects "If you do, I'll buy you that coconut margarita that you've been eyeing."

"Alrght, there's my bet." I march up to the bartender "I'm'onna ride that bull." I point at it and he looks me hat to boot.

"Alright," The bartender seems disinterested. He hits a button, and lights around the bull flash like a carnival. I draw the attention of the whole bar as a pre-recorded announcer calls me a brave challenger.

Big men with fat beer bellies gather around, and I readjust my top. If I play my cards right, I might get more than a coconut margarita out of this. I'm not wearing anything too special—just one of my combat scoop-neck tees and low-rise daisy dukes. The bartender offers his hand, and I use it to mount the big plastic bull.

"You ready, little girl?" He asks

"Yes sir." I grip onto the handle at the 'bull's nape and a bell rings. Slowly the bull starts lurching forward and back while exciting music bounces around the bar.

one Mississippi

The bull speeds up

'ride it, cowgirl!" Derek yells from the edge of the bull enclosure

two Mississippi

It starts going sideways

three Mississippi

I fake with my appearance that I'm struggling and readjust my grip

four Mississippi

I use my hips to grind with the rhythm of the bull as men whoop and cheer

five Mississippi, six Mississippi

My heart starts to thump against my ribs

Seven Mississippi, I win.

The team cheers for me. I keep going, getting bold enough to grind more dramatically. I hear more whoops and hollers as I lift my arms and squee. Someone yells, and another man whistles. I hold onto my hat as the bull speeds up, and I feel my shirt lift.

'Yeehaw!' I hear, and the bar just erupts. I feel so full of life, and I jump up on the bull, riding it like a surfboard. I drop down and sit backward on the bull. I twist around and ride the bull until the bartender slows it down.

"You done broke our record. 39 seconds on the highest speed." The bar screams in glee, and the team closes in on me, handing out high fives. Reid hangs behind the group, and I see him ask Derek a question

"Did you know that (Y/n) has a stomach tattoo?"

"Wow (Y/n), that was incredible." Emily looks starstruck

"I told you I didn't pay for a drink for 18 months." I give JJ a hug, and Reid emerges from the crowd

"I guess I owe you a drink." He smiles, and I fidget with the hem of my shirt

"One coconut margarita, please, sir." He leads me to the bar, where the bartender makes one for me. I hold the glass up to his face, and Reid takes the first sip.

"No, that's fine," He pushes the glass from his cheek

"C'mon, you paid for it."

"Listen, you know that coercion isn't a great thing to do. Most serial killers are more coercive than a skeezy lawyer."

"Aw, you're using my metaphors." I coo and step closer to his chest

"When did you become so flirty?" he braces me on the hip

"All that shaking around must have got the beer movin' in me." I giggle and sip on my glass. "I saw you askin' Derek 'bout my tattoo. y' wanna see it?" I start to roll up my shirt

"No, no, that's fine," He holds my wrist to stop me. "Why don't we get you some water."

"No, this is yummy." I smile and down the cup. He grimaces at the action and tries to walk me over to our table

"Hey, Spencer, you wanna know why I'm so good at riding that thing?" I halt to play with the button of his shirt, and he stops, too.

"Uh sure," He swallows

"Ever the curious doctor," I slur. I'm good with the bull because I love riding," I whisper drunkenly in his ear. He swallows hard and tries to shimmy us back to our table. His hands shake as he grips my tricep.

"Why're you so nervous?" I ask the side of his jaw. My voice swings up an octave, but I snort as I survey the team.

"The liquor got to her quick. I'm gonna get her back to the hotel."

"Oooh, why don't you take me someplace fancy," I tease

"Well, make sure you use protection." Derek snorts as he lifts a brown bottle to his lips

"Aw, you ain't gotta worry. I've got an IUD." Spencer soothes my sentence with a pat on my shoulder, and I slide a hand down his back

"That won't be a problem. I'm just going to ensure she has water, Advil, and comfortable clothes." He jumps away as I make an attempt to grab his butt.

"You sure you don't want either of us to take her?" JJ offers and points between Emily and herself. I rest my head on his chest. I can feel his heart pounding against my temple.

"You gonna take good care of me, Doctor?" I smile up at his concerned face

"I'm not that kind of doctor." He scolds. He helps seatbelt me into one of two FBI SUVs. Slowly and carefully, he drives me to the highway motel we were placed in, and he marches me into my room.

"Alright, are you sober enough to shower?" He sits me on the bed, and the mattress shrieks beneath me

"Yeah, so long as you help me get my shirt off."

"No, I won't be doing that," He finds a glass and fills it with water. He digs in my go-bag and finds the bottle of Advil. He drops two in his hand and gives them to me as well as the cup. "Drink this," he tucks some hair behind his ears.

"My feet hurt," I whine and put the pills in my mouth.

"Well, you're wearing those ridiculous boots," He stressfully tucks some hair behind his ears

"They ain't ridiculous." Stick out a foot and twist it to see the whole design, "Maybe a little flashy." I tuck my foot in and look up at him. "Will you calm down if you held me out of these sugar?"

"Yeah, sure." He kneels down and tugs each of my boots off, and lines them up with the rest of my shoes.

"Aww, you're so caring. C'mere sugar." Reluctantly, he finds me on the mattress, and I pat it next to me. He's hesitant, but he sits, and I lean against him. "Hey, Spencer?"

"Yes, (Y/n)?"

"You wanna ask about my tattoo?"

"No,"

"Really, because you keep glancing down at my stomach. I may be a drunk one, but I am a profiler. What about it? Gets you going so much?"

"What?" He scoffs in shock "It doesn't 'get me going'." I hold onto his arm

"Really? Because I'm pushin' my tits against you, and you're still lookin' at my stomach."

"I uh I'm not." He's distracted enough that I can swing my legs across his lap "(Y/n), this is really inappropriate conduct for coworkers."

"I ain't on the clock," I slowly drag my shirt up to reveal the design. Two big blossoms of overlapping lavender and olive flowers. Any protests he tries to make are halted as he studies the image.

"These ones, "I guide his apprehensive hand as hi pointer finger traces my stomach "Are olive blossoms, they stand for peace. and these are lavenders."

"They mean feminity and grace." He clears his throat

"I've got more," I whisper playfully

"C-can I see them?" He swallows. I cross my arms at the hem of my shirt and pull it off, lifting the hem of my bralette.

"There's some text under my boobs."

"te amo para siempre." He reads without an accent, so it sounds stilted. "Did you get that for a boyfriend?"

"No, it's something my grandpa used to tell me." he runs his thumb over the cursive, "And on my collarbones." I guide his wrist to my right clavicle.

"'An eye for an eye,' I guided him across my chest, and he traced like he was reading braille.' leaves the whole world blind.' He connected his eyes with mine. His pupils were real big.

"Aw gee, I just realized I'm a little underdressed."

"Of course," he shifts around to encourage me to get off

"Uh uh, it could be you're just overdressed," I hold onto the knot in his tie

"No (Y/n),"

"You know, darling, your mouth is saying no, but your body is saying yes." I slide my hips forward and feel him suppress a shudder. I direct his head to look at me with blown-wide puppy dog eyes. "Maybe we should tell your mouth to let your body take over." I sink my lips against him, and he melts into me. Our lips smack as he pulls away

"(y/n), no, this isn't professional," he tries to disable my arms as I slide his tie knot apart

"Well, that's good. If I were professional, you get a hotel in a local jail for soliciting a prostitute." I get the knot loose and free his neck, making headway on the buttons. He shiftsbutI kiss his complaints away. Soon, sounds of complaint turn to moans as he succumbs to his body.

"Hey, Spencer," I pull away briefly and chew on my lip at the view. His hair is fluffed, and the top half of his shirt is flipped open. "I've got one more tattoo, and I think you'd really like it."

"I would?" he pushes his hair back "Why." I give him a peck as I reach for the button on my shorts. He grabs my hand and undoes the button himself. I guide his hand to the zipper, and he tugs it down. Instead of shimmying out of the shorts, I hook his finger in the elastic of my underwear. He pulls it down just enough to read the black text that slowly faded to show green.

"C6H12O6?"

"Yeah, you remember what that means?"

"It's the chemical formula for sugar." He snaps the underwear back into place, and I jump at the sensation, "Why?"

"Because I'm so sweet." I dive back in and kiss him. Heated aggressively like he's got the last cup of water on his tongue. He reaches into my hair to steady me, and with his second hand, he grabs my hip. I continue to unbutton his shirt until he shores it off into the distance.

"Well, look how handsome you are," I watch him blush, but I run my hands up his chest and over his collarbones. He blushes but guides my hand to his belt buckle. I love the sound a belt buckle makes. Before I can get his pants off him, Spencer surprises me. He picks us up and twists us, so my back slaps against the squeaky mattress.

He slithers down my body, kissing down the various tattoos. Gently, he slides his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He slides them down and separates each of my knees. Almost entranced he licks up the gray cotton panties I wore.

"Spencer!' I moan in shock

"Please, this is my favorite part." He pulls the underwear off and tosses it to the side. I don't protest any further. It's rare to find a guy willing to go down on me, much less one that initiates. He wraps his arms around my thighs and places my knees at his shoulders. He wastes no time diving in.

With every man I've slept with, I've never felt someone go down on me with such fervor and skill. I'm taken down. He clings onto my clit with desperation. He drops my right leg so that he can trace gentle circles around my pussy.

"Spenc- Uh"

"Sh-sh -shh, just relax." He soothes me and rubs my inner thigh. I try to look down at him, but as he continues his ministrations, I lose my strength and flop my head back. Slowly, he sinks his pointer finger in, and I take a sharp inhale.

"Spe-EUUh!" His skill is shocking as he slowly moves his finger in and out. Once I was acclimated, he pulled out and put both his pointer and middle in. I do my best to suppress it for the comfort of the surrounding guests.

"Don't hide from me." He comes up and looks my face over

"There's other people around, Spencer."

"Then let them hear." He places a kiss on my forehead and sinks down to continue devouring me. I don't hold back as much as I'm embarrassed. He starts a 'come hither' motion and I roll my hips up into his face. He braces a hand on my hip.

"Sit still." He commands

Steadily, I felt a climax rising in me. I felt the muscles in my stomach clenching and tensing. I feel like yellow waves of pleasure ripple through my body.

"SPE—Spencerr, I'm gonna!" I desperately reached around and threaded my fingers into his hair. With my other hand, I felt around for the disheveled comforter. I balled my hands into a fist around what I held: his hair and the blanket. I climaxed faster than I had expected. Accidentally, I locked Spencer in with my legs. Desperate to keep the pleasure close to me.

It took me a moment to catch my breath. When I came to, I released my legs, and he resurfaced, wiping his mouth as he checked on me.

"How are you doing? Was that any good?"

"Good?" I gaped, and I saw him crumble a little in insecurity. Spencer, that was the best head I've ever had." He chuckled boyishly as I held his pants so he lay on top of me.

"Spencer?" I ask slowly

"Yeah," He kisses me on the side of the mouth

"I'm gonna fuck you now,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I sit him up and unzip his pants and pull them down. His legs are ridiculously long, and it feels like an eternity to get him naked. I geek at his boxers. His cock is jumping against the fabric, and there is a small precum stain. I rub over the fabric, and he keens into my touch.

"Aww, so you're all talk," I tease

"S-shut up, you were just writhing under me." He leans back on his arms. The veins in his forearms are bulging, and I can see his stomach shift as he shifts under my pawing.

"Yeah, and now you will be."

I slide my fingers under the elastic, and he lifts his hips to help me free him. Gently, I stroke him, and he gulps back and moans. I mount him, letting Spencer guide himself into me. I sigh as I feel him slide in, and his hands gravitate to my hips.

"Woah," he grunts. It's probably the strangest reaction I've gotten, but I appreciate being such a stunner.

"How are you doing, Reid?"

"I-I'm sublime. How are you?" I shift my hips in contemplation, feeling my eyes pool in the back of my head.

"Oh, I'm doing-g just-" My sentence cuts itself off as the head of his dick kisses a sweet spot inside me. "Can you just give me a little boost?" He holds each of my hips and drags me across my lap.

"Oh fuck," I sigh, and I pick my hips up. We fall into a sensual rhythm as the world disappears around us. "Spencer, that feels so..." My forehead collapses against his collarbone. There's something about his dick that itches a scratch I didn't know I was feeling. Similarly, he mews below me.

"(Y/n)," he groans out below me "Don't stop." and I don't. Instead, I pick up the pace. I brace myself on his shoulders and slam my hips back and forth until my thighs burn. And when the sensation becomes overwhelming I keep fighting.

"Oh my- uh," He groans beneath me "(Y/n), (Y/n), I'm gonna cum." He sounds desperate. "(Y/n) you have to get off." He whimpers

"No, I'm gonna cum too. I won't-" I keep my hips galloping against his thighs, "PLEase- fuck, I'm gonna." I feel his cock twitch inside me, and warmth spreads through my thighs.

"Uh, nice and deep." I halt myself for a second," Spencer I gotta keep going."

"M'kay." I ride with such speed that I'm scared the legs on the bed will snap. Finally, I feel the point of no return—like watching a slow vase fall over, knowing you're too far away to stop it. I came. My knees buckled, and I fell chest-first onto Reid.

"Are you okay?" He holds my back steady and gently rubs my spine, and I catch my breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I sit myself up, and Spencer tucks some frizzy hair behind my ear. "Probably some of the sex I've had in... ever." His face lights up. I use his shoulder to stand up, and I feel it slide down my thigh.

"I'm gonna need a shower, but there's always room for two." I smile and trot off to the ensuite. It's not long before Spencer is chasing me behind the vinyl curtain to wet his hair and press a kiss to the back of my shoulder.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #the south #mechanical bullride #smut

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chaoticforever · 4 months

Text

Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader

Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?

Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.

After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.

This wasn't his room.

It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.

The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.

And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.

Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.

Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.

Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.

"Hey, Mercedes."

"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"

Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."

"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"

Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."

"And why won't it happen again?"

"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."

"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."

Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.

Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.

XXXXX XXXXX

Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.

The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.

As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.

When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.

And then:

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"

Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.

Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.

The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."

His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.

Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"

Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"

Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out.

"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."

For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.

"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened."

The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now."

Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.

Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.

Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.

"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"

The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.

"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.

She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."

Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"

Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."

"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."

Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.

Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.

When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.

"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"

A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"

"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."

Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.

"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.

To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.

"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.

Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.

"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.

"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."

Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.

"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."

Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."

Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.

And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.

As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.

The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.

Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.

His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.

A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."

Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"

"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."

Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?"

Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"

"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."

"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."

At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.

Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"

Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.

Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.

But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.

As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.

"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"

"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"

Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.

"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest."

Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."

Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.

Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.

"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"

"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.

"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.

Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.

As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.

"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.

Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.

No extra strings attached.

"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.

"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place."

A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.

"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."

"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."

The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.

Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"

Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.

Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.

As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.

Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.

"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."

Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."

Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.

And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.

Or so he thought.

Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.

And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.

"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.

The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"

"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."

"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."

"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.

"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever." Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.

But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.

This was the last straw for Y/n.

Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.

A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.

Stephen was dead.

A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.

Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.

As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.

Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.

"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.

With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.

Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.

He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.

With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?

Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?

"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.

The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.

But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.

"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.

Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."

Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.

"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."

Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.

Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."

The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"

"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."

"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."

Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.

"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.

"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"

Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.

Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.

The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.

When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.

And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.

Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.

So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.

Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.

However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.

The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.

That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.

Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.

Y/n.

Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.

And that's exactly what he did.

Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.

Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.

Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.

Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.

Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.

Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.

He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. He did nothing but help Y/n see the truth. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all, what’s life without a little danger?

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x male reader #yandere stephen strange #yandere stephen strange x reader #yandere stephen strange x male reader #yandere doctor strange #yandere doctor strange x male reader #dark stephen strange #dark stephen strange x male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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sardonic-the-writer · 3 months

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𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 [+ 𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥] 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: dean, sam, castiel, and gabriel

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: dance macabre—ghost

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧

• When Dean first meets you in the middle of bumfuck nowhere on a hunt, he's not surprised that you know his name

• Afterall, he has brought on the apocalypse more than once, and the hunter community isn't exactly known for its ability for people to keep their mouths shut

• What does surprise him, though, is your knowledge on him as a person

• It's nothing creepy— the thought of someone knowing all about him in that way brings him back to where he first met Becky through Chuck, and the thought makes him shudder —but just enough to where it's obvious you've done some digging and people reading of your own

• "Brought back some pie with dinner; didn't know what you wanted so I got apple."

• "Careful handling this case, it's got some nasty demons. We don't want you diving head first into hell. Again."

• "No no, don't use that. It didn't work on that shape-shifter you ganked last year in Massachusetts, so it won't work on this one. Throw it out." You eventually say one night while looking in Baby's trunk for some ammo, and Dean finally turns to face you

• "How did you know that? How do you know any of these things?" He clears his throat, squinting. You shrug with a barely there smile

• "Who do you think cleans up your messes when you're done, Dean? And what can I say. Word gets around."

• It's a simple case of Dean's reputation preceding him. Although, as you discover, there's a lot more to the Winchester than just his precious car, a strange love for greasy food, and his ability to fight off a demon with his bare hands

• "You sure you aren't obsessed with me? Because its totally fine if you're obsessed. I mean, look at me." Dean asks you at one point while gesturing down at himself. He's leaning on his car door in what he probably thought was a sexy manner, watching as you lugged some equipment out to the vehicle. You manage to press your lips together just in time to hide your amused grin

• "Keep dreaming, man." You shake your head. "There's a difference between reading up on people, and stalking them."

• "So you admit it?" He grins misheviously, pushing himself off Baby. "That you've spent your spare time thinking about me?"

• "Sure. And those witnesses never mentioned you'd be this insufferable." You scoff light heartedly, even though thats exactly what some of them said, and leave it at that. But for the rest of the hunt Dean can't stop elbowing you in the ribs to make a playful remark; something that, strangely, you don't find yourself minding

𝐒𝐚𝐦

• Unlike his brother, Sam takes the information that you practically already knew him with a bit of embarrassment

• Sure, he had been (or was supposed to be) Lucifer's vessel, and sure he also had a habit of being at the center of everything world ending, but he never really conciders him anyone other than a hunter that just happens to get the worst cases

• So when you just offhandedly started dropping these facts about him, he's a little off put

• "How'd you know that?"

• "You're literally one of the most infamous hunters to ever exist, Sam. You tangle with angels. Most of us only ever get to meet a werewolf or two before a friend is organizing our funeral the week after."

• "Oh. Right"

• Gets a little curious after a while as to what you exactly know. It's not like he keeps a journal about his feelings that the public can read, and that this point he's just praying you haven't discovered Chuck's Supernatural series, so he'd probably ask you all of what you know and why you know it

• "So you're telling me you've done research on our hunting styles—" Sam asks you while leaning forward. You nod, so he continues. "—and all the people we've ever pissed off?"

• "Call it too much free time, which I certainly don't have enough of these days, but I knew if I ever ran into you two knuckle heads, and I knew it would happen eventually whether I wanted it to or not, then I would need to be prepared." You dragged a hand down your face and exhaled for a moment. "That meant making a checklist of every vamp, demon, or god you've ever had out for your head. And trust me, it's a lot."

• He's silent for a moment after you finish, but it doesn't take long for him to pipe up again

• "Can I see it?"

• Safe to say, after seeing the list, Sam started to rethink some of his past decisions

• "Seriously, how are we not dead yet??"

• "Buddy, I have no idea."

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐥

• He does not understand why you seem to know so much about him. Not only as a person, but as an angel

• Castiel is used to the Winchester's asking questions. The first year of knowing them was filled with 'How Did You Do That''s and 'Can You Do This''s. He'd answer all of them, even if he found their questions to be on a kindergarten level most of the time, until eventually they had no more to ask

• You hadn't been like that. Castiel doesn't think he could ever recall you asking him things unless they were about hunts or special circumstances, like the time Sam lost his soul. Hell, you seemed to know more about him than some angels knew about themselves

• Grace knowledge, wing anatomy, biblical lore—you name it and Castiel's probably heard it come out of your mouth at some point

• He gets around to asking you about it one day, albeit very bluntly

• "You don't ask questions." Castiels voice sounds from behind you. You don't even bother to turn around; you heard his wings flutter the moment before he dropped in

• "What do you mean Cas?" You sucked some air between your teeth as you scribbled away at the papers before you. It was something Sam had asked you to follow up on, and you'd been at it for a hot minute now. Hopefully you could make this conversation quick so you could get back to it

• "About angels." A beat of silence. "About me."

• This time you do turn around in your seat to look at him. He's already studying you with that silent squint, and you resist the urge to mirror it

• "Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?" You parry. The case papers lay on the table, forgotten by now. Your response gets you a rare, but endearing, Cas head tilt

• Upon further questioning, he finds out you'd spent a lot of your early hunting years doing nothing but reading up on anything remotely supernatural. Even calling them 'hunting years' was a stretch. You were more like a crazed researcher that never left the library than a hunter, even resorting to keep mountains upon mountains of notes on ancient lore stored away in the margins of dusty books

• "That's certainly explains why you weren't surprised when we met for the first time and I healed you." Cas's low voice drawled slowly after you gave him a moment to interject. "Or how you knew the symbol for sending us back to heaven before Dean or Sam ever did."

• "Like I said." You smiled to yourself, and Castiel got the feeling he was missing a part of the joke. "Lots of reading."

𝐆𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

• Do not bring up that you used to have an angel phase back in college. Under no circumstances should you reveal that. He will never let you live it down

• Especially if he finds out you used to study artwork and literature about him specifically

• It's all over the moment he finds your old school books. They're stuffed full of old crinkled pages with his name thrown in there. Of course, this was way back when the idea of angels being real was laughable to you and you still had dreams of graduating college, but that doesn't change to fact that the notes are there, and that Gabriel found them

• "Wait wait wait listen to this—" An old binder is clutched in the hands of a very amused and very heavenly being as he paces around your spot at a table. His eyes are skimming the pages as a speed quicker than light, and Gabriel's shit eating smile grows as he continues to read

• "The archangel Gabriel isn't depicted as much as his brothers Micheal or Lucifer in classic literature, but when he is, it is often as a symbol of great power and beauty—"

• "I'm going to kill you." You cut him off and groan with hot cheeks. Your hands had come up to cover your face a while ago in an attempt to keep what little dignity you had, but something told you it wasn't working

• "Glad to know you think I'm beautiful, sweet cheeks." Was all Gabriel said. You could hear the teasing lit in his voice. Sure enough, when you looked up to glare at him, he was already looking at you and wiggling his brows suggestively. It took you a total to three seconds to throw the closest thing at his head

• "Hey hey! Watch the beautiful goods!" He laughed while dodging a pencil. It his his chest anyway and bounced to the ground with a dull thud

• "Gabriel." Your tone was downright murderous

• "Okay, okay! I'll stop!"

• He does, in fact, not stop. Someone restrain him for the love of Chuck, for he is getting way too much enjoyment out of poking fun at you

• You're gonna have to avoid him for the next few weeks after that if you want to keep your embarassment levels to a minimum. No other way around it

• Let's just hope he never realizes you had to spend time in art class analyzing renaissance paintings of him in the nude. Now that would be the conversation to end all conversations

• "Heyyy, you never told me you had an art folder—"

• Oh shit.

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shuenkio · 1 day

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That basketball player | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Since when did heeseung get that big glow up? Back in the junior year he was just a guy with his bang covering his forehead but now? You can't help but to stare at him every time he is playing basketball, jingling.

Cw: masturbate in the bathroom, bigger cock Heeseung, drunk, public explicit scenes, cursing, no plot Ig, alone time, mentioned of cum, stained etc. [18+] mdni

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

A#N: Yo what! I feel pity to leave y'all alone with my no update so here a smut hardcore, before I vanish once again. (Yes this is me, a bit freaky than usual ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Being friends with a sports guy like Heeseung is not an easy job, nor is it for your mental, freaky mind. Every time you were there, watching him practice for the competition. You can't find but to stare at a little distracted place, like a weirdo. However, it's not one fault side; since Heeseung does have his own package ever since then, it'd be a jingle bell at every instance.

Not to mention, back in the junior year, Heeseung is just a guy who just hit puberty, freshly adult, bang cover all his forehead like a nerd. In the meantime, all that matters transformed into this: a hot guy with a huge beard that could squeeze a lemon, a slender yet masculine frame from head to toes, and the most glow-up part was probably his middle part.

Which you can't help but to wonder while nosebleed; imagine how'd it look like to be sight. And so on, wondering turns into reality when it's happening during the party of one of your classmates. Walking in the bathroom, as you thought nobody was there with no light on, until when the lights flickered, you were stunned, your hearts just doing a back flip once you saw the tipsy Heeseung who's jerking off on the toilet.

Omfg, is this for real? Think to yourself. Can't hide the red blush that was painted on your face, you immediately apologize and leave; however, before you could, a large hand appeared and pinged you against the door, allowing you to escape this awkward situation.

"Hmm... M/n? What a surprise to see you here during my alone time," said the half-drunk guy, looking down to see his cock peeking through his zipper, naked. In front of you, but did he care? No. You swallow down, feel like a stone stuck in your breath—this is just a dream wake-up.

Your reaction was funny enough to make Heeseung chuckle out; you seem to be nervous, shy, and lately a bit of a turn-on.

"We're alone, aren't we? Now don't hide your true colors, bud; I know you've always wanted this, isn't that right?" Heeseung claim, pointed out right through you. No way he caught you in act, but where? Yet there's no use right now to wonder about it; a big gigantic cock is staring at you right now; he was so hard his cum is leaking out, desperate for some way out of those balls.

Out of surprise, you snapped as Heeseung let out a moan, in contact with his skin too close to yours. Cover your face with your palm to evade your crazy mess face; his pre-cum began to stain on your pants!

"Fuck m/n, take a hold of it. Before I change my mind, I'm not sober," panicking Sprint free in your vein as you shudder to his words, Should you or shouldn't? This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is so rare, you wouldn't want to go to waste.

Seeing you froze in the spot, back pressed against the door too much, Heeseung snatched one of your hands and wrapped them around his shaft. Lord, have mercy.

"Ahh, so good, m/n, euuu, that's right," biting his lip, his back arching forward, thrusting inside of your palm in rhythm. Both of his hands are pinning you in between, while he endures in pleasure. No word to say; you seem to enjoy what you're doing. His foreskin moved up and down, his tip peeking in every stroke.

Heeseung's freaky side was not what you expected; he was far more wild. Your surroundings are no longer your priority; you didn't care if anyone might hear. Continue to please the man of your dreams; no, this is a dream to be able to touch him, your friend.

A few more strokes, his hip bucking more and more needy, his balls later slipped out of his underwear, come out before slapping against the friction of his own pant. As a result, the fire in him turned on even better. Both of you can't think straight, locked in this bathroom, just the two, enjoying times together.

"Cum... I need to cum m/n!! I'm going to piss Ahh Ahh FUCK." He's knees weaken. The hands that are pinning you in find their way to belt around your waist, despairing for support, before a load of hot cum splashes out on both clothes. Heeseung is indeed sensitive; that might as well be one of his weaknesses for your dictionary.

He then falls down on the floor on his knees finally, as he leans against the wall nearby in this tight space. Draining out and overwhelmed by the masturbation. Little did you know, there's also a stain in your pants too, not only from Heeseung's cum stained. Ugh, he got you in anyway possible.

"Shit..." A couple of minutes passed, his brows furrowing while his eyes shut, before he pissed out for real.

"I—damn it."

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getonite · 8 months

Text

PLAYING : HOTLINE ! — DAZAI TUNES IN!

𝗧hinking about Dazai, your childhood friend and the one who shows his vulnerability only to you. Years after you've gone and left the Port Mafia and your terrible past behind, he knocks on your door. He looks downright terrible. His bloodied hands are trembling as he grips onto the fabric of Odasaku's coat, he's trembling, and on the verge of tears.

"Dazai, how'd you—" he practically leaps, his bandaged arms wrap around your neck, squeezing harshly, though you wonder how he found you... Ango.

There's not a word spoken between you two, but you know exactly what he needs. You pull him inside, carefully closing the door. "How about we clean you up first, okay?" You whisper. He stinks. His eyelids are puffy and there's red underlining his eyelashes. His hair is due for a wash with split ends, and he's pale. You guess he hasn't taken too much care of himself since you left. He silently nods, leaning his full bodyweight into you.

You bring him to your bathroom, carefully peeling the layers of clothing from him. The first to come off is the black coat he's regularly worn since he joined the Port Mafia.

His knees are to his chest as he speaks for the first time. "Mori-san's coat, burn it. I don't need it," he whispers in a raspy voice as if he's been screaming. You hum in acknowledgement as you set the dirty thing on the bathroom tile. Your hands carefully help him undress before starting to undo his bandages. "Years later and you still can't change your bandages like I told you to," he hears you whisper with a small smile. The bloodied and worn bandages fall to the floor as he hears the sound of streaming water come from the bathtub inches from him.

Once he's in the bath, you carefully rinse his body with warm water, lathering his new and old scars with soap carefully. There's a hint of guilt in your heart as you hear him wince, though this is probably for the best.

The pads of your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair, just like you did when the two of you were kids. You carefully trim his wet hair and brush it before getting him out of the tub, helping him dry off. You were likely the only person he could truly trust to see him so...bare and vulnerable. You couldn't exactly tell if the silence was tense or comforting, regardless you continued with is predictable mute moment. He always got like that when there was something wrong, you sigh.

"How about, I get you something to eat? I made some bento boxes, you can eat one and then brush your teeth, is that okay?" You speak softly and re-bandage his tender skin.

You smile softly at him when be finally nods. "Okay," you whisper and attempt to finish quickly before his mind changes.

As his hair dries it becomes its usual fluffy self, you'd assume hair matches personality; however, Dazai's eyes were close to dead. He only seemed to relax, feel different, when you touched him so gently. You quickly clean up and head to make him food. "You don't have to eat all of it y'know...just some, okay?" You whisper, setting the box in front of him.

He can tell your eyes are studying him as he eats, wondering what your Dazai from years ago has turned into. You look at him proudly when he finishes half of it before pushing it away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Handing him a toothbrush, you let him brush his teeth and fix the mess that is your bedroom, knowing he'll ask to sleep. And surely, 5 minutes later he stumbles to your doorway. "Can I...Can I stay?" You look him up and down, smiling softly. Compared to the terrible look he had when he first appeared at your door, he looks better. No longer like a man seconds from being a corpse.

"'Course," You smile, pulling back the covers, "C'mere."

He walks to the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets carefully. His brown eyes look at you expectingly, watching you get under the covers with him. He moves his body next to yours, putting his face into your neck without a word. "Ready to talk?" You whisper. His hoarse voice whispers a 'No.'

The calming effect your fingers have as they glide along him and his hair makes him feel like he's home. "Okay, just sleep. I'll be right here, I'm not leaving."

Dazai again, speaks no words, but his legs entertangle with yours. He remembers just why he came here. He missed you. Even if Odasaku is gone, he has you to make sure he doesn't go over the deep end. He'll save people, he'll grant Odasaku's last wish. But first, he wants to rest. Right next to his home.

"I promise, sleep." The man listens, squeezing onto you as if to test that this is real before drifting off.

For the first time in days...he's at peace.

A/N: dazai srsly needs a hug, 'n ill b the one 2 give it 2 him if no one else will! we need more fluffy fics of taking care of dazai, rather than dazai taking care of us. nyway, if u haven't signed up 4 the new tag list u totally should! there's new options n better format.

SUBSCRIBERS : @avatsu @sofliesy @tamreadfanfiction

#(💿) -> SNIPPETS!#(🎵) -> O. DAZAI #dazai osamu x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai x gn!reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gn reader #gn reader #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai fluff #dazai angst #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs

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bitterbutblue · 1 day

Text

feixiao on top!

i'm guilty of falling for you twice ☆ feixiao x reader

~ feixiao is so cool shes so cool but shes also so babygirl coded u need to hear me out guys u need to SEE my vision like shes so babygirl coded please hjgsfjkhdlkjlka anyways domestic fluff with feixiao because we should love her more instead of thirsting over her

song: fallin' twice - chevy (robin's singing voice!!)~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Jiaoqiu, can you stop that!"

"I'm trying to cook!"

"You're being irritating-"

Feixiao lets out a loud groan as the sounds of bickering fill the room once more. Being around you and Jiaoqiu always feels like a babysitting job with how often the two of you argue over the smallest things, whether it be his food being too spicy or your need to add coriander to everything.

"Guys, please."

Her voice cuts through the bickering like a knife, and you immediately shut up. You look away, pouting like a child with your arms crossed as Jiaoqiu raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Feixiao.

"How'd you get her to shut up?" Jiaoqiu looks at Feixiao, who just hums as she flips to the next page in her book with minimal regards to your pouty state. You shoot a glare at him.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Both of you, calm down." Feixiao rolls her eyes "Jiaoqiu, can you excuse us for a bit?"

"Wha-"

The look she shoots his way has him closing his mouth and leaving the room with a disgruntled huff. The second the door closes, Feixiao gets up to walk towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Darling-"

"He was being a bitch!"

"Language." She chides, lightly flicking the back of your head with her finger. You wince, but ultimately melt into her embrace as she rests her head atop yours.

"You mustn't keep picking fights with him, he saved my life."

"He's a cocky little bitch." You whine, and she just laughs. Her laugh sounds genuine, not those she puts on for appearance in front of the other generals, or in front of Jiaoqiu or Moze. Her laugh around you is light, and for a moment all you can focus on is the feeling of her heart beating through her chest, echoing onto you as her hand interlaces itself with yours.

"He may be sometimes, but you should still try to see him the way I do."

You turn around to face your girlfriend, sighing.

"I don't actually hate him, Feixiao."

"I know. But for my sake, stop arguing with him all the time?"

You don't notice the way her breath hitches in her throat when you smile up at her, you don't notice the way her heart jumps and flips when you reach up to cup her cheek. You don't see how her eyes soften when you tilt your head to the side with a small smile.

You don't notice how she falls for you all over again over something as simple as a smile.

"Anything for you baby."

She just blinks, face turning a light pink and you grin.

"Flustered?"

"No." She responds quickly, clearing her throat as she looks away. You grin up at her, pulling her so that she's now standing in front of you.

"You're so pretty when you blush." You whisper, and her ears fold down from embarrassment which has your heart absolutely soaring. Who else gets to see the tough general like this?

"You- uh.." Her eyes dart around the room anxiously, worried that someone may walk in.

"Stop worrying."

She yelps when you tug her down,. She stumbles over her feet, catching herself on the armrests of your chair so that she has you caged in between her arms. She turns redder at your close proximity and you laugh because how is she still so flustered around you when you've been dating for almost two years now?

"You're adorable."

She wants to swoon, the great general of the Yaoqing reduced to a giggly mess over her girlfriend. It took her a while to finally be able to put her guard down around you, but being able to do that was the best decision of her life. You love her, unconditionally.

She loves you, unconditionally.

"You're... you're also cute." She mumbles out, and you smile up at her before moving to quickly give her a peck on the lips.

"I know."

She finally lets out another laugh, the softest smile on her face.

"Get over yourself..." She mumbles, before kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, hand cupping her cheek before she pulls away.

"Jiaoqiu will return any moment now. Do I look alright?"

Her face is red, ears flapped downwards and she looks like a giggly schoolgirl after seeing her crush.

She looks perfect to you.

"He will definitely suspect something."

"Fuck."

Se doesn't get any time to even recompose herself because Jiaoqiu storms in, finger pointed up at you two as if accusing you of a crime.

"I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT- GAY PEOPLE! GAYS! MOZE, YOU OWE ME!! THEY'RE GAY AND KISSING!"

"JIAOQIU, GET OUT!"

#feixiao #feixiao x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #xianzhou yaoqing

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alwaysobsessed777 · 10 days

Text

SAILOR SONG PT. 1 - N.M.

**this is my first time writing on here so please cut me some slack.**

Words: 1014

Warnings: None other than it being sad (sorry)

Summary: Slowly falling in love with Nika. Things just seem to be going so perfectly, but nothing last forever....

I saw her in the rightest way

Nika Mühl. Where could I even start. Seeing her in the hallways, on the court, in the few classes we had; I wanted nothing more than to talk to her. She always seemed so perfect. I would never reach whatever planet she had all to herself.

My day was going as usual, except the fact she had moved seats in Psychology. Instead of sitting with some of her teammates, she moved beside me. Something about the way she threw her stuff down, she was sitting her out of frustration. It wasn't because she wanted to. I dropped my head, not looking in her direction. She wouldn't talk to me anyway.

"Hey," A small accent coming out with the word, "I shoulda asked but can I sit here for today?"

I nodded, not able to look at her. She shuffled in her seat, uncomfortable I could assume.

"I'm Nika by the way," She lifted her hand, wanting me to shake it.

I smiled, lifting my head to see a similar one on her's, "y/n."

Her smile grew, our hands meeting, "Cute name."

Instead of listening to the lecture, she talked to me. She asked me questions, she let me ask her questions. It was back and forth. Never in a million years did I think I would talk to her, but here I was.

"So, I can sit here tomorrow?" She asked, my brows raising, "If you don't want me too that's fine I ju-"

"No, I want you too," I cut her off, "It was nice talking to someone for once."

She smiled, "Well, I had fun talking to you too, y/n." She slid me a piece of paper, folded neatly her handwriting showing slightly from the ink bleeding through.

"What's this?"

"Just open it, I'll see you tomorrow," She waved, walking out.

I sat there stunned, I had spoke to The Nika Mühl. Not only did I talk to her, she gave me her number. The small note, there on that piece of paper was her number. Her name under it with a small heart beside it.

And then, she came up to my knees. Begging, baby, would you please? Do the things you said you'd do to me, to me

After sometime of talking and getting to know Nika, I found out she had a boyfriend. He was cool. He played basketball. He was made for her. She'd talk to me about him on our daily walks, something we started a week into being friends. She's complain that he seemed perfect, but she didn't want perfect. She wanted something real.

When they'd argue, which was becoming often, she'd come to me. She'd talk about how'd she wanted someone to listen to her, to actually want her.

"I would," I blurted out. Her eyes widened.

"You would what?"

"I would treat you so much better. I would give you everything. I would listen to you, talk to you, want you, everything," My face began to heat up, my cheeks burning.

"I know you would," She smiled, "That's why you'd make an amazing girlfriend to some girl one day."

I wanted that girl to be her, Nika. I kept that to myself. Sometimes I would hope I would just tell her to break up with her boyfriend, find her someone better, find me. I couldn't though.

One day, she came to me, crying.

"What's wrong, Niks?"

"Naheim," I rolled my eyes, "I know, but I think I'm done with him."

My face wanted to show every emotion, the smile trying to creep up, my eyes wanting to light up with joy, but I couldn't. Not right now.

"What happened?"

"I caught him," She broke, "He was with another girl."

I sighed, holding my arms out, "Come here." She listened, making her way into my arms. How could one mess something up with the perfect woman.

"You should show me," To say the least, I was confused.

"What?"

"I want you, y/n, to show me how you would treat me. You said you would do it better then he could," I was shocked.

"Nik-"

"Please, I honestly just need to feel loved by someone. He's just made me feel so...so...usless," I broke, I knew I loved her, I knew it. But, this seemed like she didn't want to reciprocate the feelings. She just wanted them to be sent her way. I couldn't say no to her though, it was Nika.

"Okay," I brought us to my couch, simply opening my arms for here to make her way to me. She smiled through teary eyes, laying on top of me, her head snuggled into the crook of my neck.

Oh, won't you kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

It almost felt real, I think it was real. The way she held my hand during the couple of classes we had. The hangouts becoming sleepovers, laying in each others arms through the night. We had never kissed, but I wanted to. I really wanted to.

"Hey, Nika?"

"Yes, y/n?"

"Can I kiss you?" Her eyes widened, shock apparent on her face, "Or not it's cool, I jus-"

She pulled me into her, our lips meeting. It felt so right, she felt right. The way her lips moved with mine. Her body on mine. I've wanted this, and it was exactly how I've always imagined it.

"Was that good?"

"More than good," I paused, I wanted more, "It was perfect."

I pulled her in for another one, a longer, deeper one. Her soft lips moving against my lips. It felt like they were made for each other. The act felt like a drug, I never wanted to stop. I flipped us, her on her back, I over top of her. Her eyes scanned my face, biting her lip slightly.

"Is something wrong?" I was worried I'd gone too far.

"No," She smiled, "I think I love you."

My heart fluttered, beating out of my chest, "I think I love you too."

Her arms snaked around my neck, her hands making their way through my hair. She pulled me in for another, and another, and another. That's all we did that night, we kissed. It was like we were both addicted, we were each other's drug.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: First time writing on here, I'm kinda excited. Hope you guys like this. Totally expect more from me on here. (I felt there needed to be more stories with Nika)

#nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #nika mühl #wbb #wbb x reader #wnba basketball #womens basketball #wnba players #Spotify

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murdrdocs · 8 months

Note

doing this off anon because i’m simply unhinged but - ghostface!luke doing it to fuck with you when he’s mad…

like you beat the hermes cabin in capture the flag or sumn,, and the first time it happens you wait for him in the woods to meet up after everyone’s in their bunks. and you hear rustling behind you and suddenly there’s a knife to your throat and he messes with you for a while with the mask until you find out it’s him.

and then he gets addicted to the fear in your eyes and the crying he saw and so he keeps doing it 😩 somewhere out there is a picture where luke is pulling your hair with the camera flash on like the tiktok trend im SCREECHING please

cw dark content; ghostface!luke; suggestive content MDNI 18+

the energy of the vengeance coursing through his veins is so electric that it's a wonder you can't feel it.

luke figures it's because you're stuck in your ego. in your glory. it's practically radiating off of you, momentarily protecting you from what pumps through him, meddled with the blood and ichor to create something dangerous.

but he's not here to seriously hurt you. no matter how many times he has to remind himself. he just needs to put you in your place. to remind you that this win was singular, and another won't be following it. with you, there's no better way to do that than to strike fear deep into your core.

it takes a second for it to reach you.

when luke purposefully steps onto a branch, and you turn to face him, he's only met with brief shock. then, like the overcompensating brat that he knows you to be, you laugh in his face to hide your fear.

"what's with the getup?" you gesture to the mask and gloves, amusement in your eyes but luke can see the way the corners of your lips tug down just a bit.

he doesn't say anything, tilting his head and watching on as you ramble to yourself.

"here to scare me? how'd you know i was out here anyway. unless..." you take a step closer, squinting your eyes. "luke?" your smile turns bigger, more genuine.

"knew you were a little weirdo but i didn't suspect this. what, are we gonna do it in the getup? am i gonna be your helpless victim? are you gonna make me beg for my life?"

you get closer and closer to him as you speak. eventually, you reach a hand up and attempt to lift his mask, but he catches you.

"luke?" you ask. he shakes his head, and it's then that the fear starts to set in.

you don't have time to react before luke has you spun around, your hand locked behind your back and your chest pressed up against the rough bark of a tree.

you wince. "ow, luke. you're hurting me," you tell him, trying to wedge yourself out of his grip but this is always one position you couldn't figure out the escape for when you would spar with luke.

he has you at his mercy. and before he'll let you go, he has to play with you for a while.

when the cold and sharp metal of a knife presses against the pure skin of your cheek, you flinch away, only to be stopped by luke forcibly nudging his crotch into your backside to remind you that when he's here, you're not going anywhere.

he hears your sniffles, and he briefly wishes he could see the tears glide down your face. but there's something more perversely addictive about only being able to hear you and not see you. something that makes luke's cock twitch within the confines of his cargo pants.

you're starting to plead, telling him that there's someone coming out to meet you. that he's big and strong and the best swordsman around and he could end your assailant in less than a minute. luke wants to laugh at the irony, and eventually he can't hold it in.

he does. he laughs right in your ear as he lets the knife slip a little and he slices a thin line against your cheek, watching the blood gather from behind the eye slits in the mask before he finally decides to show you mercy.

"not so big and bad now, are we?"

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #ghostface!luke #luke castellan x you #celeste + apollos-calliope #luke castellan smut

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staticbleeding · 18 days

Text

⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars ⋆°⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

Part 3 is here y'all!! I'm tempted to keep a majority of the story in Ford's POV. Let me know what y'all think! warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

1972 What happens when Ford's chance to ask you out is right in front of him? Will he grab it and run? Or will his time run out?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Ford's POV

"Hello?"

What do I say? God their voice is so pretty. Do I hang up? No that's creepy.

Thoughts race through my head. Fear and anger crashes over my body like waves. Finally the reality hits, I need to say something.

"H-Hi (Y/N)?" I stutter out finally.

"Ford? Hey! How'd you get my number?" Their voice rings in my ears as a blush raises throughout my face.

"Stan. He saw you left your notebook in class today and let me call to tell you..I promise I didn't look through it at all! Just your..number." I feel myself mentally cringing at how creepy all of this could sound.

"Oh shit. I didn't even notice! Thank you!" They laugh and thank me, I feel my heart begin to beat faster. Not out of fear or anxiety, but of something else.

"Oh it's nothing! Just..buddies looking out for each other...not assuming we are buds or anything! Just a phrase..yeah phrase." I say and look up seeing Stan shaking his head and laughing. A silent glare is directed at him.

"Of course we are! Looking out for each other. Speaking of which, um would you like to meet up sometime this weekend so I can get it back? Not like a date or anything." I hear their voice quiet down at the last part. My heart tightens up and my stomach drops.

"SO like a date?! Oh he would LOVE to honey! I'll make sure he dresses all fancy for ya. Flowers and all! I like you already! He will pick you up tomorrow at 7 alright?" My mother's voice rings out through the line. I turn around towards the living room and see her sitting in her usual chair with the phone in her hands. She looks up at me and blows a kiss before getting up and walking away like she didn't just say the words I have been so scared to say out loud so nonchalantly. Oh God please let the floor open up and just swallow me whole.

"A date!? Oh! Um if Ford wants it to be a date..then yeah." I hear (Y/N) say into the phone.

"Excuse her! I am so sorry! I..is a date alright? Don't feel pressured to say yes at all! It is completely understandable if not." I cover my face with my free hand and quietly say into the speaker.

"I would love a date with you Ford..." I hear them speaking but after those 8 words leave their mouth I can't focus on anything else but my heart beating faster than it ever has. This can't be real. I am going on a date with them. An actual date. With the prettiest person to ever step foot into this town!? Oh stars what if I mess this up? I feel myself start to lose my mind to worries and anxiety. Tuning out everything except my own voice.

"Do I need to tell you the address again Fordsy?" I hear their laughter I have come to love so much, slowly bring me back into reality.

"Shoot! Um sorry yeah. Wait let me get a ink pen," I run around the kitchen finding something to write it down, "Okay continue please."

Writing down every number and word they say, brings this entire thing to reality. I am going on my first date ever. Do they know this is my first date? What do they even like? Where do I acquire flowers for a date?!

"So..tomorrow at 7?" A smile coats their voice so sweetly I can't help but smile back as if they can see it.

"Yes. Tomorrow at 7. I will..see you there!" With that we say our goodbyes and hang up. Finally a steady breath finds my lungs and fills them up.

"See!? Wasn't that hard Sixer. Just needed a push." Looking up I see my brother and my ma giving each other a high five. Rolling my eyes, I watch as ma goes to look for a suit that will fit me. Stan looks at me and tells me I can use his cologne that "all the ladies love it on me, surely it can help you". I can't help but smile a little. Silently thanking them for the help. I slowly walk to my room and find myself laying in the bed I have spent countless night dreaming. Dreaming of how I can ask them out, maybe the stars heard me? If I ever visit the stars, I will have to thank them. A big smile finds its way to my face. Maybe everything will be okay.

The next few hours are spent with Ford's eyes wide open. Imagining everything that could happen. Many thoughts circle the Young man's head. 'The possibility of this date going completely perfect is slim to none' , 'What do we do?' , 'I have to impress them. make them want to do this date thing again'. Ford slowly drifts off to sleep imagining the chances of this working out. Stan creeps into the room and smiles at the twin asleep cuddling against a pillow. A smile on the older Pines brother, bigger than Stan has ever seen on the usual stoic and serious face.

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Ahh! Chapter 3! Sorry for the shorter chapter! Didn't want to put the date and the phone call all in one. Gotta stretch it out wink wink. I hope you all are as excited as I am for the date.

#stanford pines x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford x reader

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bountycancelled · 9 months

Text

something more than friends

(lucy gray baird x reader)

tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined

requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡

content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.

warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.

a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them

lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.

there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.

sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.

so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?

she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.

you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.

but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.

you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.

you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.

she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.

the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.

but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'

you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.

there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.

she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"

her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."

lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."

you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.

"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."

she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"

she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."

your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?

despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"

you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.

she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."

you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?

she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.

that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears that flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.

you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.

it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.

"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."

"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.

the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.

#tbosas #the hunger games #lucy gray fluff #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird #lucy gray my beloved #lucy gray angst #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games headcanon #tbosas x reader #tbosas x you #wlw #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird x you #coriolanus x reader

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mehidktbh · 2 years

Text

A Little Injury

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get shot at during a mission but after seeing Soap getting injured too you decide to keep yours a secret. Until your lieutenant catches on.

Warning: Guns, violence, serious-ish injury, reader shoots someone, blood, you're in a ton of pain, swearing, crying?, reader gets shot, yelling/shouting, Ghost is a bit of a jerk but not really because he basically patches you up in the end <3

A/N: I'm so sorry if I messed anything up plot-wise mainly because I'm not too familiar with MW2 and how the military work. I only know some parts...

(I'm sorry that you don't have a cool nickname to go by, I was struggling on a name anyway)

"Motherfucker!" You yell, quickly grabbing your gun again before you pulled the trigger, (attempting) shooting the guy in front of you. Ten bullets drop at your feet as you continue to unload at the man in front of you. Stopping suddenly as your arms tremble, you reload and shoot the guy again, just to be sure. The adrenaline wears off quickly as you drop your gun in agony, groaning and gripping your leg in pain as you tried to breathe in and out slowly.

Looking up your eyes scanned the now-dead man in front of you, his body slouched over on the wall with his gun in his lap. His hand was unresponsive and lifeless, you could barely see through your squinting how you just barely missed his heart. Your mind was racing the second he shot you and you had no time to perfect it.

A loud screech came through the walkie-talkie you had strapped to your chest armour, your ears ringed and your vision blurred as you mentally cursed yourself. "Y/N come in!" You recognised John's booming and aggressive voice, "Y/N Do you copy-" "Yes, yes I copy." A relieved sigh could be heard from the other side, "Status?" You looked around you, your eyes inspected and examined the room ignoring the voice in the back of your head to state your injury.

"I'm alright, do you need me?" Gunshots could be heard from outside the building, and streets were littered with violence and war. "Soap is down, injured badly we need everyone grouped up now!" Before you could reply John left, a static screeching out from the walkie-talkie just as you let your finger go of the button. But you pulled through, giving yourself a pep talk before grabbing your gun. Aiming it before leaving, your leg getting worse with every step.

♡ ♡ ♡

Limping around the corner you were met with your task force, John, Gaz, Soap and Ghost, their heads all turning to look at you. Soap was in the backseat of one of the military cars, bandages wrapped around his arm as he smirked at you. "Took your bloody time." Ghost mumbled roughly behind his mask, watching as you laugh before opening one of the doors. "Yeah yeah"

Getting in the backseat you were squished against the window, Soap leaning on the other side while Ghost sat in the middle. John and Gaz swearing about what you guessed to be themselves or arguing over another safehouse to stay for the night. Looking out the window you tried your hardest to focus on the horrible environment rather than your arching leg, the sounds of echoing shouting only died down once you got further away.

"Fuckin' battlefield out there" Soap spat, your head turning towards him, "How'd you get injured anyway? Tripped over?" Your teasing tone only made Soap feel better, his ruff chuckling made you smile as he pointed over to Ghost sitting in between you both. "Asshole doesn't know when to move." Ghost eyed him, giving him that jokingly shit-eating look before he continued, "Always in my damn' way." Your eyes drifted between the two of them, the thick tension could be felt between the three of you.

The agony of your leg coming back to ruin the moment, you huffed in frustration as you tried to catch a quick (Sneaky) glance down at your leg. Your heavy cargo pants felt wet when your fingers glided along the fabric. Looking at your fingers more you could spot your blood sliding down them before quickly wiping it away. Unknlowly catching the attention of Ghost.

♡ ♡ ♡

"Fuck I need to take a piss," Gaz said before disappearing into the bathroom. After what seemed like hours of torture from riding in the car ignoring your leg you guys came to a stop at a dingy motel. A more suspicious owner who glared at all of you when you tried to reason with him to get a room. Only the room was not clean and had a weird vibe, looking around you spotted a small TV sitting on a stand with 2 bunkbeds facing the opposite side.

Soap seemed to already claim the bottom bed with his blood and clothes as he tried to quickly discard them to unravel his bandages. You instead took the opportunity of claiming yourself on the top bunk - even though you did want the bottom - you took your time to slowly get up the ladder, hissing under your breath when you put too much weight on your other foot.

You stare at the ceiling, the beige colour was all you could think about as you drowned out everything around you. Your mind raced with thoughts, "Am I going to die?" "It hurts so much" "No one wants to patch you up" "No one cares" The thoughts were the only thing polluting you, they screamed and shouted at you as you tugged yourself to sleep. Telling yourself it'll heal in the morning and no one will know a thing.

The noises of the TV blurred in the background, the sounds of laughing and talking could be heard from below you but you paid no attention. Slowly and painfully drifting to sleep.

♡ ♡ ♡

You sniffled, shutting the door quietly behind you as if the guys would hear you through the loud TV playing an advertisement that no one was paying attention to. Turning on the light a quiet humming filled the bathroom, the uncomfortable, plain beige wallpaper followed into the bathroom as the white tiles fell hard against your boots.

Gripping onto the cold and slippery sink you had no intention of using the bathroom only the thought of weeping silently to yourself. You could have taken some of Soap's bandages or alcohol-free wipes but your mind was only focused on getting to the bathroom you didn't have time to think.

A loud knock shook you out of your struggling state, you nervously looked towards the door before preparing yourself to act normal. "Yes?" You questioned, your happy and normal voice didn't get past Ghost as he replied. "Open up." His British accent was demanding and serious as he waited for you to open up, "Go back to bed, Ghost-" "Open this fuckin' door. Y/N." He interrupted you this time more demanding than before as he knocked more forcefully.

You opened the door after what seemed like forever to him, you were met with his usual mask and muscular body. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, raking over your puffy eyes and left leg that was lifted off the ground. He pushed his way into the room, closing the door behind him with his foot as he signalled you to sit on the sink. You watched as he dropped the first-aid kit next to you, scavenging through it before he pulled out some cotton swobs and some alcohol-free wipes.

His eyes were met with yours as he stared deeply at you, he didn't say anything but he didn't need to. His pupils told a thousand words, like how wanted to ask you if it was okay to touch your leg, his hand hovering over your injury waiting for you to answer. And when you did he slowly pushed your cargo pants higher up your leg, giving him full access to your bare leg and bloody injury.

"Why didn't ya' tell me." He cursed at you, his fingers gently patting the cotton swab on your leg, soaking up and cleaning all the dripping and dried blood away from your leg. But you only shrugged your shoulders in response, "I can take care of myself" Your low, soft voice replied sounding determined but failed to get through Ghost as he stood between your legs.

"Clearly not." His husky voice only made you feel guilty, the long painful sensation felt sweet against his touch. "You not only failed me but the rest of the team" His stern and disappointed voice affected you, not only did you blame yourself before but now it only felt worse. "I'm-" You hissed feeling the throbbing and piercing sting of what could only be described as hell but instead it was Ghost trying his best to slowly and softly wipe the alcohol-free wipe across your injury.

"I'm sorry..." You huffed out, your gentle and drowsy voice pleaded and sounded genuine to Ghost. He hummed in reply, his clothed fingers dancing and massaging your leg, sometimes you swore he could squeeze or go higher up your thigh. His low and husky breath could be heard through the low humming of the bright bathroom light, leaning against the mirror you felt relaxed now that there was no pain.

"Don't try that shit again, you hear me?" Ghost wrapped your leg up and let go of your leg now he only stood between your man-spread legs. Arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you, "I'd hate to see you hurt again." His dreadfully quiet tone was possessive and penetrating, you swore he grinned once you smiled in return.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #ghost #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #fanfiction #my little meow meow #simon riley #cod ghost #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you

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