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tsukimefuku · 1 month

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the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

445 notes · View notes

theplumsoldier · 10 months

Text

loverboy

summary: carmen makes a move on you while you think he's still got a girlfriend. could've gone smoother but you end up inviting him

pairing: carmy berzatto x afab!reader

word count: 4,2k

warnings: insecurities, self-doubt, small lies (carm makes you believe he lives closer to you than he does), vulgar language, mention of "setting boundaries" of a not-yet-existing-fwb-relationship, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, semi-public grinding, oral (f&m receiving) soft!carm, idiots in love, friends to lovers!!

"You know, I don't think I've said this." He hadn't. "But I'm-I'm really—we're all really glad to have you here."

He was nodding to himself as he said it, and he hoped you didn't notice the hesitation. Carmy wasn't for a second doubtful that they were happy—he was certainly happy that you had joined the crew during the hectic weeks prior to The Bear's opening.

It was just that now, here, sitting alone with you in the back alley of the restaurant, sharing one of the bottles of expensive-as-shit Coup Beaujolais, he was getting unsure of himself. On whether he had completely misread your banter. He wasn't very good with that, flirting—never knew when someone was hitting on him and always double-checking whether he himself was, in fact, hitting on someone. Richie had said the chemistry between you guys was more dangerous than Fak recalibrating. Fucking stupid, he thought, but it made him think.

And then Carmy realized he had been flirting with you, in his own stupid fucking way which he worried you hadn't picked up on. Shit, he hadn't noticed it before Richie told him. Now that he sat there, with you, alone, he wondered if Richie had been fucking with him again.

Carmy wanted to know how you felt about him, but he didn't want to fuck up as was his specialty lately—didn't wanna make you uncomfortable, didn't wanna make anything weird.

"Yeah, uh. Thanks, chef," said you, chewing at your bottom lip to ease the tension. Carmy had a real habit of making situations awkward. "I'm glad you'll have me."

Phrasing.

Carm nodded, the persistent way he does whenever he's turning words in his head. You could almost hear the gears scraping.

"You always seem so cool—about everything. Like, even though we're jumpin' off the fuckin' walls, screaming n'shit, you'll just—you're collected. S'a real good quality, you know?"

You grinned, thinking of those exact memories, some just a couple of hours old. "Yeah, well—I'm sure it's more hectic n'the kitchen, right? Like there's, open fire, sharp knives and shit. Gotta be jumpin', like, all the time, yeah? To avoid the obstacles n'stuff."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Peter Parker-type shit."

"Yeah."

You held the plastic cup out and he poured you another one.

"Anyway, keeps me sane, you know? I think—I think at some point you made me realize that—that, you know, it's not normal to fuckin' scream all day. Like I didn't even realize I got fuckin' migraines 'til it was quiet, you feel me?"

It made you bubbly, to hear that Carmen did in fact appreciate having you be a part of the team.

You just sat there, quietly watching him. His bicep popped when he poured a slob into his own cup. You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips before taking a sip.

You sat like that, speaking mindlessly for a while, sharing experiences and goofing around. You loved this, getting to know him better, but when you suddenly found that he had sought closer to you, you felt your heart leap.

His body was so close you could feel the heat of his body radiate. It was intoxicating, more than the wine and though your subconscious reminded you it was wrong to lean into his welcoming touch, you couldn't help but forget what was right and wrong.

His crystal blue eyes caught the light from the street lamp, and you were mesmerized as he looked into your soul. You felt vulnerable but safe in his company.

Though there had been much lead-up, it seemed to come out of the blue. Carmy leaned in, and his eyes were fixated on your lips. Before your lips touched, your senses returned and you moved back against the fence.

"Yo, what the fuck are you doing?"

Fuck.

"Wait—I'm sorry! I'm sorry."

"You have a girlfriend!"

Oh.

"Wha—no, no—shit, that's not—" he stumbled back, running a hand over his dazed face, dragging the expression down with it.

Fuck—fuck! Carmen thought he must look like a fucking jagoff.

He stood with his back to you, but you could see the way his broad shoulders heaved with every.

You pushed, not appreciating the silence. "Yeah, no—her name is Claire. You've been dating her a couple months now and known her, for like, forever. That ring any bells?"

When Carmen turned around to face you, he looked defeated. He then crouched down beside you again.

"We broke up."

What?

Carmen told you how he had had an existential crisis during opening night, how he had thought he vented to Tina while stuck in the walk-in, and Claire had heard everything he had said. You could sense the sadness in his voice, but there was no regret. It spread a warm feeling in your chest, and you immediately felt a pang of guilt. When you had first met Carm, he had been with Claire and so the immediate attraction you had felt—well, you had obviously tried to suppress that.

"—I guess I just... I realized I can't both manage a—a restaurant and a relationship. I—I don't know, it don't come natural to me."

Your brows were furrowed, mixed feeling prickling at your skin. "So... why'd you try to kiss me just now?"

Again, he looked despondent.

"I—fuck, I don't know, I've—I guess I've just been feeling this for a while now, with—with you and I dunno. Richie's been getting in my head and I had a stupid thought and figured fuck it, you know?"

It wasn't a question but he was looking for an answer on your expression. Carmen feared you had stopped him from kissing you, not because you thought he had a girlfriend, but because you didn't want to kiss him.

Carmy watched as you looked thoughtfully at the ground, his hands fidgeting as you did the same.

Fuck.

It's over, he thought to himself.

Battling the voices in your head telling you not to, you said: "You know, it's not that the thought of kissing you, like, disgusts me."

His head tilted upward, hope in his sorry eyes.

"No?" he quizzed sheepishly.

"No," you chuckled. "I mean, I've thought about it before."

Carm lit up. "Ye—yeah?"

"Yeah," nodded you, wetting your lips as you recalled your fantasies. "It'd probably be stupid though, right?"

"So stupid," he agreed, nodding vigorously as if trying to shake the thought. It would be fucking stupid. He knew it. But it didn't deter him. Carm wanted to take the chance. He shouldn't, after all, he broke it off with Claire because he "wasn't ready". Why would he be ready now? "Still want to, though."

So badly. It felt more like an urge; a need rather than a want.

"So do it," you finally tested.

If you didn't, you were sure you'd back out, run into the kitchen with your tail between your legs. But you would regret that, you knew it. You tried to convince yourself you shouldn't back away. You wanted this—had for a while. Carm was the one who should second-guess himself, not you. He had ended a relationship because he couldn't dedicate himself and now he wanted to give it another shot. With you. It made you desperate, knowing he wanted you like you wanted him. Still, you worried he would kiss you and regret it immediately, confirmed in his suspicions—he didn't have time for romance. Keep your eye on the price.

"Fuck it," breathed he, putting aside an internal battle and leaned closer, knocking aside the bottle of wine as he pressed his hungry lips to you.

Your lips felt plump against his, chewed with anticipation and soft with spit. You tasted like a perfect dessert.

Lost in the growing heat, you cradled his face, swiping your warm tongue over his needy lips and Carmen did not hesitate to grant you entrance. A desperate although soft whine escaped him and you swallowed it down, living for the way he desired you.

Without interrupting the dance your tongues twirled, Carmen's large palm grasped your hip and pulled you into his lap. Automatically you ground down on him and moaned at the sensation of what you did to him.

You'd thought about how he would feel against you. From behind the bar, you always had a perfect view of his station and often got distracted by the way he moved—the way his mouth curled when he would scream commands, the way his arms would flex as he worked. It was a surprise nobody had filed a complaint against you. On more than one occasion you had mixed the wrong drink or spilled liquor because you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. It was unprofessional, but he was mesmerizing like a starry sky; the longer you looked, the deeper you fell into the abyss.

Carmen mumbled a curse under his breath as he broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he ground up into your clothes sex.

"Do—doesn't feel so stupid, huh?"

You grinned and shook your head lightly, pressing your forehead against his.

"If we're gonna fuck we should probably talk about it," you said blatantly. "Set some ground rules."

Carmen was caught off guard for a second. He knew what he wanted but when you said it so casually it made something twitch in him.

His eyes were attached to your lips. They looked so delicious, kissed rough and he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb before he even registered it.

"Probably," he breathed even though he wasn't quite sure what your words actually meant. He was quite literally thinking with his cock.

Carmen clashed his insatiable lips to yours again, but the second he did so, the back door to The Bear clicked open and Marcus appeared, garbage bags in hand. By the time you looked up at him, you had clumsily shuffled off of Carmen, sitting awkwardly with your legs to your chest. You weren't sure what he'd seen nor what he made of it.

"Hey," he hummed, moving to sling the plastic bags into the container.

"Sup, bro," acknowledged Carm, putting his hands on his hips, suddenly standing up, playing it cool.

"Imma call it a night," Marcus said. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Yeah, uh—good job t'day."

Marcus disappeared and Carmen looked back down at you, holding out a hand to help you to your feet. The interruption had broken the spell.

"Can I walk you home?" he offered. It made more sense to him, taking you home. He wasn't about to violate health code on the kitchen floor of his own restaurant.

"You live close to Maygrey?"

No.

"Yeah."

The walk might do him some good, he figured. Perhaps the chivalrous gesture would help him get lucky tonight, and even if you decided you were not about to fool around with him, he could at least say he had done a good deed today.

Carm hadn't realized you made a twenty-minute walk every night, and although he often did the same, it bothered him a great deal. He hadn't had any uncomfortable encounters himself, but he knew Sugar had. One time when she had been late to dinner at his place because of some creep bothering her on the street, and he had asked her why she hadn't called him (he would have picked her up), she told him it was not a first nor was it a last. It angered him, knowing it was not unusual for a woman to feel afraid when walking alone.

Carmen recalled your mention of ground rules, but you didn't once embark on the topic. Instead of talking about sex, you joked as if you were friends and nothing more. It made him wonder if you regretted kissing him.

Of course you invited him up. How could you not?

Carm looked dubious suddenly and you raised a brow, giving him a soft smile.

"I won't be mad if you turn me down now. No hard feelings."

He realized you were just a pair of self-doubting idiots—none of you wanting to pressure the other into something you might regret. And Carmen knew he might just do that—not because he was unsure whether he wanted this with you (he hadn't wanted something this much in a long time), no—he feared he would find himself in the same emotional clusterfuck he had with Claire.

Something about you made him want to throw caution to the wind and become the loverboy he so pathetically wanted to be for you.

How could he ever turn you down? A simple kiss in a back alley had dragged him in too deep.

You stood atop the staircase and watched curiously as Carmen closed the space. His hand cradled your face and he planted a soft kiss on your lips, not as vigorous a kiss as earlier that night, but just as hungry, just as passionate.

He then gave you a reassuring look and you knew you had it bad cause you could've sworn you fell in love with him just then.

Grabbing his hand you dragged him along with you, eagerly pulling him up the steps to your apartment, not wasting a goddamn second in connecting your lips again.

Carm chuckled against your lips as you pushed him into the door, closing it with him as if locking you away from the outside world. It was just the two of you.

Carmen was too far away to realize you had undone his belt until the familiar clinking sounded. He was so fucking hard by now, aroused by your eagerness. It was almost mortifying.

He composed himself. "Where's the bedroom?"

You gave him a look. "It's a one-room apartment, Carm."

For the first time, he looked around and got the message. The kitchen was awkwardly lodged into a small corner of the living room and the living room was also the bedroom. There was a door three feet ahead but he was unsure whether it was a closet or a bathroom.

"So when I fuck you on the couch I'll also be fucking you in the dining room?"

You looped your arms around his front from behind, pointing to the corner of the room. "Yeah, n'the trashcan over there's the bathroom."

He spun around, placing his large hands on your hips to keep you close. "Cozy."

There was a glimmering to his eyes, and his contagious charm infected you with an enticing smirk. You leaned in, cradling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"So you gonna fuck me Carmy? Or are ya just all talk?" teased you, planting wet kisses against his throat, sucking the place below his ear. That's the spot.

In a flash, he hooked your legs around his waist and you would've been embarrassed by the stupid fucking giggle escaping you if a low moan hadn't interrupted you. His restrained cock felt even bigger now, pressing up into your clothed crotch.

You could hardly wait to see his weeping head.

Carmen straddled you on the couch, breaking your lips apart to shift his focus. Peppering kisses down your neck, your chest heaved with a shaky breath, whining for him. You wondered if he would flip you over and fuck you roughly if you asked nicely.

Another time you told yourself. Tonight, you were too ecstatic as he worshipped your body like the prettiest fucking tenderloin he'd ever seen. The thought made you smile into your arm, gasping as his hot breath swept over your belly.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he murmured against your skin, tongue poking out to taste the flesh.

Writhing beneath him, you tugged at his curls, and he swore he was about to bust right there, with your glossy and dazed eyes blinking down at him. Fuck, Carm wanted to hear you beg for him.

"What is it, baby girl?" he taunted, looking curiously at you while he peppered kisses across the skin he exposed by lifting up your shirt.

When you ground up your hips to show him where you wanted him, he kept you pressed against the cushion. You cried out.

"Carmy!" you mewled, helplessly thrashing.

After removing your shirt, he praised your patience: "you're so good for me," he said and unbuttoned your jeans. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

You threw your head back into a pillow with a thud, wanting to both strangle and fuck him (which you had wanted many times already since you started bartending at The Bear) as he pressed teasing, open-mouthed kisses by the seams of your panty line.

"Just—mpff! Fuck me already, Carm," you whined.

His face tilted up and you wanted to slap the smirk right off of his sly face. "In a minute, baby."

As he moved back a little, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, but when you arched your back with need he used your movements to flip you onto your stomach. He roughly placed you as he pleased, propping you on your knees, and slid in under you.

"Just a quick taste, baby," he drawled.

Realizing he was gonna eat you out, you melted completely, seated perfectly on his face as was his wish. You barely managed to get comfortable before he hooked a finger through the leg of your underwear, the cold of his ring making you shiver and he dug in like a man starved.

A sound bordering on a thirsty moan and a dry cry escaped you. Carmen looped his arms around your thighs. His tongue explored the nooks of your lips, lapping slick from your folds and into your pussy.

A string of curses left your lips as he relished your juices, groaning into your cunt. He couldn't help but relieve some of the pressure on his impossibly hard cock by palming himself through his jeans.

He had lost himself for a moment there and when he looked up, he became doe-eyed with adoration. You had removed your bra.

His hand left his cock and slid up your curves, palming your breast instead and the other went to deftly work your clit. He elicited a muffled shriek from you, obviously surprised by the sudden added sensation to the delicate bud.

"Carmy," you panted, grinding your hips against his mouth, all of it seeming both too much and not enough. He was going to ruin you and you would let him. "Fu—fuck! M'gonna come, Carm."

Your confession merely made him more eager, more hungry and he concentrated on bringing you closer, encouraging each wave of your hips with a low moan. Carmen let you fuck his face, rolling and grinding on him to persuade your release closer. You grabbed at his curls to steady yourself as it came in euphoric waves, moaning, crying, whimpering, and grinning as he lapped your cum, savoring every last drop. It quickly became too much though, and as his nose tickled your sensitive clit, you fell apart, tilting over and crashing above him.

"Ho—holy fuck," you panted and he stood up from the couch, ridding himself of his clothes until there was nothing but a gold chain gleaming at his chest.

Still recovering from your orgasm, you gaped at his size. The head was red and strained, pre-cum beading the slit making it look like it was crying. The shaft was long with protruding veins drawing purple along the length and he was thick, too thick to fit in the circle created when you connect the tip of your index with that of your thumb.

He was perfect.

Carmen looked a bit flustered from your shameless gawking but you couldn't help it. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He grinned sheepishly down at you, grasping your legs, pulling you to the edge of the couch, resting your calves on his shoulders.

"You are," he insisted, pressing his lips to yours in a feverishly soft kiss as he aligned his head with your folds.

Gasping, you took a second to relax around his head, knowing it would sting painfully if you didn't. You wouldn't let anything ruin this moment. Not with his eyes gazing so intensely down at you; not with saliva connecting your mouths with a string, not with him before you like this, looking like he was carved by fucking Donatello, nothing hiding an inch of his tantalizingly soft skin bar the gold chain dangling from his neck.

You instinctively edged closer, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him into you. He eased into you as he kissed you hungrily—insatiable, always needing more of your taste.

Carm held his breath as he bottomed out, finally exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't believe how good you felt around him, hugging—no squeezing the life out of his cock as you desperately clawed on his back, feeling every cleft and hill, moaning into his mouth. He hoped your nails would leave marks on his skin.

With your forehead pressed against his, you looked down with hooded eyes and watch as he slid in, devastatingly slow, inch by inch. Carm followed your gaze.

"God, look how good you're takin' me, baby. Doin' so well f'me—doin' so good," he groaned, head digging into your neck, licking, sucking, biting.

He commenced a thrusting-grinding pace, reaching every crevice inside you, tickling all the right places. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure so delicious as he poked and prodded places untouched. He felt unreal.

Soon Carmen drilled into you like a madman, steadying himself against your hips, rutting into you at a bruising pace. You'd feel him long after he was gone.

You held him close by his neck, securing him by threading your fingers through that damn sexy gold chain and the locks of his hair. His brows were furrowed, concentration and bliss evident in his expression.

You begged him to go faster, harder—before you knew it he granted your wish and his hand had returned to your poor clit, and you grasped whatever you could, the armrest, cushions, him.

You chanted his name, exchanging your vocabulary for his name so that he was all you knew. Carm fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own as you cried his name. The combination of your moans, your begging, and the vulgar sounds of your skin slapping—it made him fucking delirious.

His bicep flexed delectably as he put all his weight on his right arm, making a considerate pause for a sweet but overwhelmingly intense kiss, only to thrust impossibly deeper.

Feeling his consistent pace become erratic, you begged him. "Please, please, Carm—fill me up."

You could feel your frantic pleas going straight to his cock as he twitched inside you, groaning—but fuck it sounded like a frail whimper.

The furrow between his brows deepened, a red blush painting his face and chest.

"You're fuckin' unreal," he manages, shaking his head.

Carmy's pace became sloppier and more desperate, cursing into your mouth as he stuttered, a strangled moan signaling his high.

He filled you up, squirting white ropes of velvety cum into you. You felt his seed trickle out as if there was not enough room for his generous load. Then he collapsed beside you.

You lay still for a minute or so, chests heaving in unison as you came back down to Earth.

"Fuck," he said after some time, pronouncing the cuss as if he had just learned the word.

You chuckled, agreeing. "Yeah."

"Shit, lemme get ya somethin' for the—"

"No, no—don't worry," you stopped him, already getting up before he could do much. He watched you go, admiring your naked body. You reached between your legs, feeling his cum trickle down your thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Carmy laughed when he realized what was going on, a sort of childish grin he couldn't hold back from rumbling in his chest. He hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time.

You disappeared out of sight. He heard water running splash and he figured you were cleaning yourself. Carmen wondered if he would get to fill you up again—preferably sometime soon.

You returned with a damp washcloth, your feet padding softly against the floor as you approached him. Carm couldn't help but smile endearingly as he went to move to free up space for you, but you placed a soft hand on his thigh as if telling him to lie still instead.

"Oh—" he began when he noticed the washcloth, but to his surprise you wrapped your lips around his cock, earning a strangled moan from him. Your warm tongue licked him clean and you hollowed your cheeks around him as if vacuuming his mess.

The pleasure turned into a ticklish feeling and he felt like grinning and kicking his feet suddenly. You looked up through your lashes, and he felt as if his eyes had remolded into heart shapes.

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with such tooth-rotting affection it made him wonder if he loved you. In this situation, it felt natural to say to you—it felt easy and welcome, right on the tip of his tongue.

You offered him an enchanting smile and took his large hand to your mouth, kissing his knuckles, then began cleaning his cock with the washcloth.

Carmen's head dropped back at your touch and he exhaled deeply.

A smile danced across his face and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; the one you had kissed.

What am I going to do with you?

#theplumsoldier #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear carmy #the bear #jeremy allen white #the bear fx

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mistywaves98 · 4 months

Note

Hi meena! This is my first time requesting so pls lmk if I didnt meet your request standard/ I need to fix smt from my req 🫶🏻

I think I'd just like to request wanderer x fem reader and the kinks wanderer has!

My bad if this gets kinda self indulgent..

✧･ﾟ:* ->Wanderer's Kinks!

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Degrading, Fingering, Riding, Dom! Character, Sub! Reader!, Biting, Hair Pulling, Oral (f. receiving)!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Smut written by a minor!

>Degradation

Wanderer just adores the way you clench around his cock whenever he whispers phrases and names of belittlement into your ears, topped with the slightest praise. That mixed with the combination of hushed curses and grunts or moans was just so hot. It always made you squirt for him, and he doesn't hesitate to make fun of you for it too. Though if you ever thought he went too far with the degrading, he'll try to tone it down a bit even if it's a bit difficult for him considering his normally sharp-tongued personality.

"Fuck— ... You masochistic bitch. You like it when I call you my pretty little slut, don't ya?.. Shit, just when I thought your whorish pussy couldn't get any fucking tighter.. God— keep squeezing me like that, pretty thing. I want to see your slutty cunt cum hard around my cock."

>Fingering

He isn't stupid. He's seen the way you practically drool over his hands, or more specifically, those perfect fucking fingers. Wanderer would be lying if he said he didn't take pride in seeing his slender fingers pump in and out of your pussy. His favourite thing to do when fingering you is having you face the mirror as you sit on his lap, back against his chest. That way, you can get a clear view of his fingers moving in and out of your walls.

"What did I tell you about looking away, hm? If you look away one more time, you're not getting to orgasm tonight." Wanderer's free hand came to grab your face, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips are puckered. He forces your head in the direction of the mirror, where you see his long middle and ring finger knuckle deep in your pussy, thrusting in and out at an even pace. Lewd squelches filled the room along with your moans, making him smirk,"See that? See how your greedy cunt sucks in my fingers so eagerly? I know you're on the verge of cumming, so do it. Cum for me."

>Riding

Wanderer absolutely adores the sight of you bouncing on his cock, hands gripping his shoulders tightly for leverage. It's so much fun to see you moaning and crying like a sweet little submissive for him even when you're on top, desperately trying to reach your high. He almost feels bad for just laying back with a sadistic grin on his face, letting you do all the work. But the way your breasts move up and down is so irresistible, he can never stop himself from reaching his hand up to toy with one of them, as his mouth engulfs the other.

His hand comes up to grab your waist as his lips wrap around your right nipple, his other hand reaching up to toy with the other. You gasp when you feel him give it a hard pinch, causing the bud to become slightly swollen. "You look so cute moaning like a whore for me. Can't get enough of my cock penetrating your tight little pussy, can ya?" Suddenly, he pulls his mouth away from your breast and the hand playing with your left nipple goes down to grasp your hips as he begins to bounce you on his cock himself. Sweet mewls of his name fall from your parted lips with every thrust as you feel your climax rapidly approaching.

>Biting/Marking

He is a very possessive person and doesn't appreciate the idea of someone trying to take what's his. So what better way to deter them than showing that you're taken? Your body is like his personal canvas, hickeys are everywhere, especially on your inner thighs and neck. If the marks ever show any sign of fading, he'll be very quick to pounce on you and ensure that your neck is all colours of the rainbow by the time he's done.

Wanderer's teeth sink into the soft flesh of a faded bite mark in a vampiric fashion, the slight pinch of his unnaturally sharp canines not really doing much to lessen the effect. His arms wrap around you from behind, one around your stomach and the other delicately tracing the purplish skin,"These marks are getting to light for my liking. Let's fix that, shall we?" He begins to suck on the fold of skin in his mouth, his teeth simultaneously chewing and nibbling on the flesh slightly till it turns a deep purple mixed with dashes of red,"That's better, now let's move onto the other spots..."

>Hair Pulling

This could go either way, he loves having his hair pulled as much as he likes pulling yours. if you ever have your hair done up in a ponytail, prepare to be feeling a lot of random tugging throughout the day. He loves using your hair as a way to tilt your head in whatever direction he wants you to face. Like pulling it back to tilt it up so your neck is exposed, or to pull your face out of the pillows while he's taking you from behind. When receiving, he adores the way your fingers entangle themselves in his indigo locks whenever he's eating you out, desperately begging him for more.

You lay back on the bed, thighs spread apart as Wanderer practically smothers his face with your pussy. His hands move up to your hips to hold you in place as his sharp eyes glance up to meet your squinted ones,"Stay still." A moan falls from your lips in response as he begins to suck on your throbbing clit, making you throw your head back in bliss. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, fingers carding through his locks before grasping them and attempting to pull him closer. This elicits a pleased groan from him, which vibrates against your clit and makes your toes curl in. "Fuck...pull on my hair like that again and I'll make sure to ravage this greedy pussy—"

#genshin smut #smut #x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*#scaramouche x reader smut #scara x reader smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scara smut

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astrophileous · 7 months

Note

hi !!! can i request literally anything with spencer based on "in a world of boys he's a gentleman"? everytime i hear it on tiktok i just think of him and i physically cannot😭😭 thanks a lot <3

ANON YOUR ✨️MIND✨️!!! I go crazy over any edit of spencer with slut! audio omfg and you're absolutely right, the lyrics scream HIM SO MUCH 😭🫶 Thanks for the request lovely ❤️ btw some parts of this are kinda similar to details of my other blurbs but you know what? idc 🥰 I hope you still enjoy it tho <3

Warning(s): fem!reader, minor injury (scrapped knee), reader being stood up, profanities

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

You turned around at the familiar voice. "Spencer? What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the job. Were you inside the club?"

You glanced at the entrance of the establishment behind you. "Yeah, I was. Can you tell me what's going on? Why was everyone evacuated? Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, angel. Don't worry. We've got things under control." Spencer looked around at the mass of people in your immediate surroundings. "I thought you said you had a date today?"

You shuffled your weight from foot to foot, ducking your head so Spencer couldn't read the embarrassment on your face. "I do. My date, he's—well, he said he saw some of his friends earlier and went to say hi, but then we got evacuated, so..."

Spencer frowned. "He hasn't contacted you yet?"

"No." You looked at your phone again for good measure, hoping that somehow your date had dropped in a text or a missed call in the two minutes since the last time you checked the device, but alas. "Maybe he doesn't have service? The signal on my phone has been terrible as well."

You and Spencer both knew that it was a pathetic excuse, but you were thankful that he chose to brush past it completely.

"Are you cold?" Spencer asked when he saw you shudder. He instantly took off the FBI bomber he was wearing and draped it on your shoulders. "Here. You know you get cold easily. Why didn't you bring a coat?"

Truthfully speaking, you didn't think you would need a coat when you left your place earlier that night. After all, your date was going to drive you from your apartment to the club and back. How were you supposed to know that he was going to stand you up halfway through your date, leaving you alone and freezing in the middle of a sidewalk?

Perhaps the fact that he decided to bring you to a club out of all places for a first date should have been your first red flag all along.

"Better now?" Spencer asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Spencer."

Someone bumped against you from behind, and before you could dive head first onto the curb, Spencer caught your fall mid-air. He led you away from the mob of people littering the club entrance with protective arms enveloping your shoulders.

"What happened to your leg?" Spencer asked when he saw the slight limp in your walk.

"Oh, that? I, um, kinda grazed it against the pavement when I fell."

"You fell?!"

"Well—" you winced when a particular step sent a jolt to your limb, "—believe it or not, people can get real physical when they panic, and a sudden PSA to evacuate the premises is apparently the surest way to do it."

"Let me see." Before you could stop him, Spencer was already kneeling in front of you in the middle of the road. He flipped the sheer material of your skirt so he could inspect the damage. "Shit, angel. You're bleeding. Why didn't you say anything?"

Carefully, Spencer ushered you towards the nearest ambulance, sitting you down at the back before requesting a first aid kit from the paramedic.

"Need help with that?" the paramedic asked.

"No, thank you. I've got her."

The way Spencer said the phrase made your entire insides heat up all at once. It didn't help that for the following minutes, you had to endure all the gentle ministrations Spencer was doing to treat your scraped knee. You were both glad and mournful when Spencer finished dressing the wound, your skin tingling with the aftermath of his delicate touches.

Spencer took a seat right next to you. "Still no word from your date?"

"No." You sighed. "I don't even wanna think about him right now. Should've trusted my instinct and not go on this stupid date in the first place."

"Why did you go anyway?"

"I didn't feel right canceling just like that. Deirdre went through great trouble setting it up for me."

Deirdre, bless her heart, was your best friend and closest confidant. She was also the person who arranged this blind date for you because she was, quote-unquote, tired of seeing you pining over a certain FBI agent with an IQ of 187.

"For a certified genius, he's sure as hell real dumb if he hasn't figured out how you feel about him by now," Deirdre had said once upon a time.

So, like the good friend that she was, Deirdre set this blind date in hopes that you would finally stop moping around and start moving on instead.

"Your date is a friend of Deirdre's?" Spencer questioned.

"No, no, no. I think he's a coworker of her sister's husband or something? Anyway, thought I'd at least show up and have fun, y'know? I didn't expect that I would be the one getting stood up."

Spencer clenched his jaw. "Well, you can tell Deirdre that her sister's husband's coworker is a brainless dickhead."

"Spencer!" You wanted to reprimand him, but the giggles that broke through betrayed your intention completely. "You don't know that. You've never even met the guy."

"Don't need to. He's got to be the biggest idiot in the world to have the audacity to stand you up when he should be thanking you for even giving him the time of day in the first place."

Your stomach churned into knots. "You appraise me way too highly, Spencer."

"I appraise you exactly as you deserve." Spencer's shoulder bumped against yours. Even under the layers of clothes you were wearing, your skin still managed to burn. "I wish you could see that."

His words washed over you like a high tide. Spencer was the only one who held such power in the world; the power to render you compliant just by the utterance of several words.

It should have been terrifying.

"Do you want to go home?" Spencer offered as he rose to his feet. "C'mon. I'll drive you."

"What? But your case—"

"They'll be fine without me."

You followed him to one of the parked SUVs several paces ahead. Spencer meandered for a minute towards a group of people whom you could only assume was his team. You offered a small wave and an awkward smile when their gazes slithered your way.

"I feel bad for taking you away like this," you admitted once Spencer returned. He had tendrils of curly hair falling down his forehead, and it took every willpower you had not to reach out and stroke them away.

"It's fine. They understand. We all cover each other all the time when one of us has more urgent things to do."

You were 100% certain that taking you home should not have been categorized as "more urgent things to do". After all, Spencer was a federal agent working a federal case, and you could've easily taken the metro or a taxi back to your place. If it had been any other person with you at that moment—if it had been any other guy—you doubted they would have gone through all those troubles for you.

But Spencer was different.

In a world of boys, Spencer Reid was a gentleman.

He opened the car door for you before getting himself into the driver's seat. The drive back to your apartment lasted a little over twenty minutes. You stared at the building outside your window before turning to face Spencer.

"I'm sorry again for hindering you from your job."

"Are you seriously just gonna keep apologizing to me?"

You grinned. "Maybe. Unless, well, you'd let me treat you to lunch sometimes. Or dinner. Whatever works for you."

Spencer chuckled. "Deal. Just text me when and where, okay?"

You bid your goodbye and exited the SUV. Just before you could close the door, though, Spencer suddenly called out your name.

You bent down and peered inside the car. "Yes?"

Spencer assessed you in silence before looking away. "Nothing. Just... don't forget to brush your teeth."

"Brush my teeth? Who are you? My mom?"

Spencer waved you off when you started to laugh.

"Goodnight, Spencer," you said one last time, slamming the car door and heading towards the entrance of your building.

Spencer's heart stirred as he watched you walk away. "Goodnight, angel."

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 3 months

Text

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 4 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

A/N: This is all angst and fluff because I'm working on two other smut fics. Please accept this impromptu filler chapter for now (I'm sorry ❤️). I hope you enjoy it anyway.

WARNINGS: [ SFW ] + [ SLIGHTLY MATURE THEMES ] + [ FLUFF ] + [ ANGST ]

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

You waited patiently for Alastor, standing at the window, admiring the fading moon as the sun's rays gradually inked the sky. It’d been a longer night than you imagined, but you felt energized rather than overtly exhausted.

You supposed that's what having a child felt like: tiring but never lacking excitement. A smile crept onto your face at the thought, heart racing at the image of a small hand wrapping around your finger and the possible jingle of childish laughter following the gesture. It was all you could think about.

Would they resemble you or Alastor more?

A boy or maybe a girl?

Twins?… Oh, twins would be so extraordinary but troublesome!

Oh, who am I to complain… they'd be just as lovely as Alastor.

You jumped from one thought to the next, unable to keep track of your puzzling emotions but deciding your only concern should be the present. With a steadying breath, you gazed around the room, searching for something to do or a task to occupy yourself with since sleep failed you. The room was spotless besides your belongings, which you'd already reorganized after stealing one of Alastors dress shirts to replace your blood-stained nightgown. There was a bookshelf full of various stories tucked into a corner near an old rocking chair, and the idea of reading to relax didn't seem terrible.

“A good story can be grand entertainment…”

Your father coined the phrase and always followed it with an unbelievable bedtime reading. Those nights filled with his storytelling were your fondest childhood memories, and you considered passing the sentiment onto your child. You imagined Alastor more prone to telling bedtime stories; he had the charisma, the soothing voice for it, and you had no doubt they'd become attached to him doing so.

Your smile grew wider, getting ahead of itself as you waltzed over to the tall mahogany bookshelf. “Hm…what shall we read, little one?” you placed a hand on your stomach, gently rubbing circles against it as your other grazed the worn book spines. Each title caught your eye, all ranging in subject but consistent with what Alastor told you about his mother's efforts to advance his literacy.

“Some might say she willed proper speech out of me, but I wouldn't be where I am now without such vigorous practice…”

He was far from wrong; your father had educated you similarly, claiming that despite young women of the time being expected to rely on their beauty, you'd advance farther with brains.

“Let's see..” you mumbled aloud, reading a few titles to narrow your decision, “…perhaps Penny Dreadful? No, The Grim Brothers Tales’?..” A soft giggle left your lips as you considered how ridiculous you sounded speaking aloud, but it couldn't be helped. You were longing to talk, to shout with joy, but resisted the urge in fear of causing a minor disturbance.

Finally, a book held your attention, not as worn as the others but fairly withered. “Alice in Wonderland shall do.” You pricked it from the shelf, sitting in the rocking chair while opening its front cover. The words on each page were familiar, immersive as intended, and for a few quiet moments, you thought of nothing but its premise as you whispered nonsensical sentences in their written order.

Time passed quicker than you thought; by the third chapter, you heard the bedroom door creak open, and in stepped a refreshed Alastor. You beamed a coy smile his way as he shut the door behind him, returning your smile with tired eyes while walking over to you, “Mornin’ darlin’..”

“Good morning, mon cher. You look much better.” you muse as he leans down to kiss your head, “Thank you, sweetheart. Once I get some rest, I might feel better as well.” He doesn't stand up fully, content with being at eye level with you to converse, and you unconsciously blush from the intensity of his gaze. Strands of his hair were curled into its natural waves, dripping with tiny water droplets, slithering down his mocha skin with every breath he took. It was a miracle his glasses didn't fog up, resting neatly on his face and doing nothing but accentuating his piercing brown eyes.

You could get lost in his stare; that ocean of amber took your breath away effortlessly, and you wondered if the trait would pass on to your child.

Indeed, it would… surely he'd love it.

A lump formed in your throat as anxious excitement built in your chest. You needed to tell him calmly, but the longer you waited, the more you wanted to hide away.

Did he want this?

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…”

He'd said it himself, but it was hard for you to deny that Alastor was very vague with his genuine emotions. Even as his wife, you found him hard to read

There was only one way for you to find out, and stalling wouldn't solve anything. Alastor studied your expression as you thought, perceptive to the minor changes in your mood, “My dear, are you alright?” he asked firmly. You perk up, nodding slowly while clutching the book to your chest, “I-Im, I'm fine... It's just that I have to tell you something rather delicate..”

Alastor raised a brow, watching as you bit your lip and stared at your lap, “The news you alluded to earlier this evening?” His eyes narrow, glinting with prowess as he ponders the possibilities of your announcement.

With a heavy sigh, you nod again, shutting the book before placing it in your lap, gripping it tight with one hand as the other instinctively rests on your stomach. You feel his gaze shift from your face, fixated on your abdomen, as you stumble out an explanation.

“I. Well, I'm… “ you cut yourself off when words fail, reaching for his hand gently, placing it over your own as a nervous smile adorns your face.

Oh…does she mean to say?…

Alastor froze as the warmth of your skin settled against his palm, rising and falling in a gentle pattern as you willed yourself to breathe normally while gauging his reaction. His shadows quivered in the darkness of the room, able to hear two faint heartbeats underneath the drum of your own, and the definitive sound brought a grin to his face.

It seems she's given us exactly what we hoped for. Twice the yield as well.

How delightful.

Alastor knelt before you, placing both hands on your stomach, eyes soft with affection as he finally voiced his thoughts.

“My darling wife is going to be a mother..” pride laced his tone as he averted his gaze to yours, grin ever present as you nodded excitedly with a bright smile, “And you're going to be father..” you whisper.

Your words drifted quietly in the air, sinking into Alastor’s consciousness and stirring his specters into a giddy frenzy.

My wife is having my children…

Mine and only mine.

A laugh rippled in his chest as the possessive thought invaded his mind, growing stronger as he heard your delighted giggles join his. “Come here, darlin’…” Alastor lifted you with one gentle tug on your wrists, catching you in his arms as your feet hovered off the ground. “Alastor!” you yelped excitedly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt and laughing more as he pecked your lips tenderly. You hummed into the passionate kiss, arms locking around his neck as you kicked a foot up gingerly. He tasted like mint, calm, and refreshing. A welcomed contrast to the waning heat you felt as your nerves winded down.

He was pleased to know, which filled your heart with relief.

——- ——- ———

“Oh, my stars! Al! Y/n! I'm overjoyed for you both!” Rosie shot up from her seat, dress flowing as she glided around the coffee table to squeeze you in a tight hug as you set out the platter of sweets you'd finished baking moments ago. “Thank you, Rosie. I still can't believe it myself,” you blushed as she squealed, drawing back a bit to cup your face with both hands; her eyes sparkled with admiration as she looked between you and Alastor -who sat comfortably in an armchair. He hadn't stopped grinning since your return home from the countryside, rambling on and on to his mother about the news until the last minute, and he insisted on telling Rosie as soon as you stepped foot in New Orleans again. She was his long-time friend, after all, yours as well, by extension, and so you didn't mind revealing the news to her. Just as his mother felt like your own, Rosie filled the space of an older sister for you. She was energetic, fashionable, and constantly aware of everyone's lives.

She was a true gossip girl, but you enjoyed her company more than others.

“Al, you devil! You could've waited another year to knock my dearest friend up! Now, who will I take out on the town?..” She huffed dramatically but couldn't hold her frown as you giggled softly while he waved a hand dismissively. “I'm sure you'll survive, my dear.” he quips. Rosie rolls her eyes, returning his nonchalant gesture with an equally smug smirk, “I suppose you're right. Although, my nights out won't be as thrilling anymore with you gone being a new father and such, Al.”

He sat straighter. You happened to catch the slightest frown on his face at Rosie’s comment, but it vanished when he felt your eyes on him. “I'll accompany you on occasion when time allows it.” His response is politely chaste, and one might deem it disappointing.

Was he bothered by the notion of having less time with Rosie?

You knew they ventured to socialite parties together regularly, something they'd done long before you married him, but you never questioned it since Rosie assured you it was their fun hobby. Still, you felt concerned that Alastor could regret the idea of children if it meant a less spontaneous party going with his oldest friend.

You opened your mouth to say something, stepping towards where he sat, but Rosie grabbed your hands and whisked you away to sit on the plush sofa with her. “We must discuss everything Y/n. Having a child is no small feat, and I know Al won't spare any expense.” She grinned, squeezing your hands gently, and you smiled back at her before sparing your husband a curious glance. “He spoils me too much already, so I think he'll naturally do the same for the baby,” a soft laugh floated from you, and he tipped his head reassuringly while pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “Whatever their little heart desires, I shall give,” he replies calmly, standing to his feet and gazing between you and Rosie. “It's about time I head on over to the station. I don't suppose you’ll be leaving anytime soon, Rosie?”

You checked the grandfather clock that stood against the adjacent wall, noticing it was nearly time for his broadcast to begin, “Seems we lost track of time.” you smiled apologetically at Alastor. He shook his head while chuckling, “It's not your fault, darling. I got caught up listening to this one ramble,” he gestured to Rosie before walking over to the parlor room coat stand. He pricked his preferred overcoat, slipping it on quickly as she glared at his back. “Is that any way to speak of your child’s future honorary aunt and godmother!” she faked a skeptical look to which you feigned concern, “Oh, my dear Rosie, he didn't mean it, I swear!”

Alastor turned on his heel, biting back a more comprehensive smile as he admired the two of you carrying on, “I will not apologize for telling the truth, ma chère, but Rosie does have the privilege of godmother so that for I will ask for her forgiveness.” he stood behind the sofa, leaning down a bit to kiss you once then twice before pulling away with a content hum.

Rosie watched the sweet exchange, able to separate the manic version of Alastor she killed from the doting husband he was in your presence, proud to see him so controlled and happy. He pulled away from you, adoring the glimmer in your eyes as you reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, “I love you,” you whisper, and he blanks for a moment, hearing the endearing phrase.

Love…is that what this is?…

Would it be so wrong to say it back?…

A flash of vulnerability crosses Alastor’s face, and you're tempted to take your words back, but he beats you to speak. “Je t'aime aussi..” he mutters back, stepping away to bid Rosie a proper goodbye, “Take good care of her while I'm gone.” he kisses her cheek, and she swats his arm, “Oh, you know I will. Now run along before you're late!” He heads to her, scolding her out the door in seconds, leaving you in her company.

“I thought he'd never leave,” Rosie chirps, glad to have some privacy to speak with you and eager to get down to the details you had to tell. “Tell me, how do you feel, honey? I know this all might be terrifying you…” she spoke softly, pricking a freshly baked cookie from the platter you set out, and you nodded timidly in agreement while fidgeting with your hands.

“I'm scared, yes, but not of being a mother. You know I've always wanted to be one. It was my biggest dream when I came of age, and I'm glad it's coming true with Al..” You rested a hand on your stomach, feeling it flip at the mention of him, and luckily, no urge to throw up followed.

Thank goodness for Angelique and her tonics!

She'd given you a case of vials to take home, all containing a special brew made by her hand, and she'd given you a strict regimen for consuming them.

“Drink two of these twice daily, morning and evening, but only take it after you've eaten. Have Alastor phone me when you need more..”

Whatever was given had a wonderous effect on your mood, reduced your fatigue, and calmed your nerves. You were grateful for her assistance, but not everything you felt could be cured with medicine.

You hoped Rosie would understand, could help calm what the tonics couldn't, so as she peered at you curiously and asked, “What's the matter, dearest?” you inevitably blurted out your worst and only fear.

“I'm afraid of how Alastor will be as a father..”

She blinked, taken aback by your confession, but it didn't show on her face. “May I ask why?”

You hesitated, fidgeting with your hands again as you thought of what to say, but Rosie rested a hand on yours to still them in a gentle grip. “Y/n, it's alright, be honest. He may have been my closest companion initially, but you are my truest friend in this moment. I'm here to listen, not to criticize. He won't hear a word of it, I swear.”

You glanced between your conjoined hands and her kind smile, and after debating whether or not to spill your heart out, you decided it wouldn't hurt to express your doubts.

You could trust Rosie. Right?…

“Well, I know he wants children. He recently told me so, but it's how he'll receive them. Alastor is a complex man, we both know that, but I fear that complexity will make it hard for him to…to..” you tried to phrase the last of your concerns gently, unsure if what you said made any sense to her, but Rosie merely smiled before finishing the thought for you.

“You're afraid he won't show them love?..”

You nod, heart clenching at the thought, “Yes. I know how his childhood went; I was there through it all, so I know his father wasn't the best man. I know what he put his mother through and Alastor hates the idea of becoming like him..”

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to tear up as memories of Alastor coming to you in the dead of night, bruised and battered but stoic as ever as he asked to sleep next to you in your bed. He'd never tell you what happened, where his father was, or if he'd been majorly injured. You'd have to coax information out of him, promise him that you'd never betray his safety, or tell your father what went on in his family. Then and only then would he relax, let you mend his scars before huddling under the thick covers with you, and though you were both exhausted, you'd whisper stories aloud to each other until the sun peeked through the trees.

It felt odd to wish for times like that to return; they all resorted from darker places, but it brought you two closer. You were able to understand Alastor to an extent most speculated of. With all the insight into his life, you hoped the irrational fears you felt would wither away, but after the incident at his mother's, they just worsened.

It felt as if he were hiding something from you.

At first, the notion piqued your curiosity, but now it ate away at your conscience.

What was he withholding from you, and did you need or want to know more?

Logic voted ‘yes,’ but your trusting nature leaned towards ‘no.’

“He won't ever be like him. I'm sure, but he's only recently expressed he cares for me. Truly loves me, so I suppose I'm afraid of that same affection not being openly expressed to our little one as well.”

Rosie nodded, scooting closer and giving you a tight side hug to calm your frazzled state. “My dear, you have every right to fear such a thing. However, if I may vouch for Alastor, I do believe his softer side will show itself for your child.” You peered at her, hope in your eyes, “Really? You think so?..”

She grins, “I am certain of it! He cherishes you like no other! Unlike my husband, yours is a dime and a man who'd kill for you if necessary.”

You blush, surprised by her claim, “I don't think he'd kill for me, Rosie, but I understand the sentiment.” She scoffs, hand rubbing your shoulders, and retorts, “Yes, he would, and he'd show the same devotion to your bundle of joy.”

Her statement soothed your worries, but the seriousness in her tone made your heart skip a beat.

It felt as though she did know he'd kill for you…kill for your child.

A shiver racked your body at the thought.

I hope it never comes to that…

xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxx

What do you guys think of the story so far? I'm just curious to hear your thoughts and theories.❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He may be a monster, but at least he's dedicated to it; morally grey, but honest to his silly little murderous behaviors ❤️ credits to the creator

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minhosimthings · 2 months

Text

love.

Synopsis: in which Hyunjin comforts you on a hard day

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, heavily self indulgent because I can, hurt/comfort, reader cries, mention of food

A/N: yay I did this finally it's out of my notes Woohoo! Idk when this idea came into my brain but it did and I couldn't stop thinking about it so now it's here. For my loves @chlorinecake and @astraystayyh they are my Hyunjins

Song rec: love by Wave to Earth

The weight of the world on your shoulders.

You had often heard that phrase as a child. It was ridiculous, initially.

The world can't possibly weigh that much.

You were the smartest in your class, you knew the multiplication tables by the time you were five, the capitals of the world by eight, and by fifteen, the weight of nothing but your own shoulders dragged you behind everyone.

University was an easy affair, that's what you told everyone. Someone's got to keep up the smart girl, book child status up right?

Studies were easy, just understand it, write it down better. Yet, fuck, you could feel the words fading by, was it a stalactite or a stalagmite?

Graduation was easy, you were peaking and nothing was in your way!

Then you realised something.

The world did weigh too much.

Everyone weighed too much.

Your mind weighed greater than your heart, something you fought off for eons now.

And diamonds are formed under pressure, but hadn't you learnt that diamonds turn into graphite every now and then too?

You were so smart as a child, what happened?, You wished ever so fervently that you could tell them that you weren't a child anymore.

No longer the child that thought the only thing that she needed to do to be loved was to get a good grade off her papers.

Or was that love starved part of you still inside?

"Rough day, love?"

Love. It was the nickname you most adored. Lucky for you nicknames were Hyunjin's personal favourite job.

"Fuck..." You swore softly, immediately collapsing onto your couch, and wrapping yourself into the warm cocoon that was your boyfriend's arms. You swore you would become a butterfly from your current catterpillar state one day.

The gruesome world always seemed to calm down on its axis of rotation as soon as you reached Hyunjin's touch. As if he was the petals of honeydew calming down the speed of a hummingbird. Would you have been the overactive bird rushing around to cater to the needs of everyone around her?

You could hear your own heartbeat in the moments of silence, when the dust seemed to still and the winds seemed to wait, eavesdropping on conversations old and new. The hauntedness of the thumping sound made you shiver.

The tightness around your throat felt tighter by the moment, like an invisible rope hanging round it. Your heart felt too heavy too for some reason. It's a heart, you tried to convince yourself, you need it to live. But you knew that you could rip it out of your chest at this moment, and you would still keep living on. But did you really have to-

"Want to talk about it, love?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

A loud sob ripped through the thick air, coating the curtains of the atmosphere in a blueish paint that seemed to have rotted inside it's bucket far too long. Hyunjin was quick to bury your head further into his chest.

You know you smell really comforting?, that went on in his mind, the thing you said on your first cuddle session, in which, he remembered fondly, you described his scent a bit further than most people usually did.

Broken strings of words escaped your lips, I'm sorry—im so sorry! Guilt always flowed through your veins whenever anything like this happened.

But Hyunjin understood, he always understood. And fuck, you both hated and loved that he understood.

One hand lay on the back of your head, while his other caressed your back, rubbing circles on it. As if a magical void would appear and take all your problems away.

Hyunjin was your magical void.

"Can you talk to me?" Hyunjin asked quietly. He felt you shake your head against his shoulder, causing him to tighten his hold on you.

"It's going to be okay love. I promise you."

Another wave of tears surged through you, nearly making you double over at the rush of fresh emotions popping off in your brain, your jaw tensing as you tried to stifle the illegible babbling falling from your lips.

Hyunjin's words in your ear and his hand rubbing ribbons of comfort onto your back made you catch your breath, and slow down. Silence rose once you had stopped crying, you felt even more tired now and you had to admit, Hyunjin was a nice pillow.

The occasional sniffle and tired breath from you, broke Hyunjin's heart even more. He hated seeing you cry, so much so, he'd always distract you if he ever sensed you were in a depressed mood. Even if there were times that you poured your entire heart out of him in tears, he'd always shed his own tears in private, sometime later.

"Love?"

"Hmm?"

"Want me to run you a bath?"

"With the candles and everything?" You managed to say in a quiet, exhausted voice. Your throat was tired from all the crying.

"With the candles and everything." Hyunjin smiled down at you, pushing back stray strands of your hair behind your ear, "Can we go up to the bedroom, love? Can we do that?"

He was speaking so softly to you, and it was making you want to sob rivers again.

Silently nodding, you felt yourself droop down all over again as soon as Hyunjin got you up, strong arm wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his side.

Pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head, Hyunjin started with shuffling moments upto the bedroom, which you followed, not even being able to lift your head up from the pure exhaustion.

Sitting on the bed felt like you were hung down by iron nails, while Hyunjin prepared the bath for you. Even a moment without him felt down, and even if it was a bit dramatic , you were willing to admit it.

"Hands up?" Hyunjin looked at you softly, taking off your shirt for you and discarding it in the empty laundry basket, "You did the laundry yesterday? Wow, I'm proud of you baby."

You let out a breathy giggle at his words. Hyunjin somehow always knew every word in the instruction manual of how to make you laugh.

"Is the temp alright?"

You couldn't get yourself to say yes so you hummed what seemed to have been a 'yes'. Your throat was raw, and your face was congested as well as your chest. You sounded like you swallowed a frog, and the frog was also now sick and subsequently congested.

The water truly didn't have any texture or temperature to it when you got into it. The world felt numb again as you relaxed into the tub, which, evident from the scent, Hyunjin had filled with your favourite bath salts.

What seemed like a year's worth of time, passed in silence, as Hyunjin quietly stroked your skin with soap, was it the lavender one or the tea tree one? You couldn't tell, remembering how you often joked that both of them gave off the same perfuminous vapours and that Hyunjin should just buy one of them. The water seemed more mellow now.

"Love, look at me?" Hyunjin's voice broke you out of your seemingly never-ending stupor. Like it always did.

You turned your head and rested your eyes on Hyunjin's softened ones, and you felt that familiar tightening of your throat again.

"Hyun I-"

"Don't you dare apologise." Hyunjin said before you could even get a word out, "You never have to apologise to me. Not for this."

His hands were sickeningly sweet as they ran over your back, washing lathers of soap off of your back, his voice even more so.

“You deserve to relax, you know that right?" Hyunjin said, as he wrapped you up in your purple coloured towel, "“You did so well today and you do so well everyday and you deserve to rest for a while."

Hugging you into his arms again, Hyunjin provided you with a little den, a cave where you could settle into whenever you felt that you were too tired for a lion's hunt. And you were forever grateful to him for him.

"Now-" Hyunjin looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "You are not allowed to leave the bed until you finish every single cupcake I got you."

"You got me cupcakes?" Your lips broke into a smile, a genuine one this time, "What flavour?"

"Beef." Hyunjin joked, sending both of you into a frenzy of laughter, as you pressed a kiss against his nose, making it turn the touched skin like a tomato.

The one thing that you'd have never admitted to anyone when you were younger was the fact that you wanted to be loved. That was a silly notion to you.

But maybe now, under the watchful gaze of Hyunjin as he saw you devour the cupcakes, you'd admit it.

You'd want to be loved, even if it was another weight on your shoulder.

Maybe that'd be a weight you'd like to ephermally lift.

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distort-opia · 1 month

Text

And in today's second installment of "How about that guy Tom King's brain??"... did you know the man basically developed an entire stabbing-as-sex metaphor between Batman and Joker over the course of multiple comics and that it's just absolutely bonkers? :)

So. Remember this spectacular page from Batman/Catwoman (2021) #9, in which Joker describes a particular fantasy of his regarding Batman?

"And that's when I put the knife into him. [...] And I put the knife in him again." Joker could not have made this more about sex if he tried. Hell, he tells Selina that he thinks he could fuck Batman better than her. But alright, keeping this in mind-- the metaphor of the knife and penetration, what does it imply about the other two times Tom King has written interactions between Batman and Joker where there's a knife present?

Alright, I'm putting the rest under the cut, since there's a lot of comic panels, my own ranting... and attempted stabbing.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #9 ("The Winning Card")

In The Winning Card, a reimagining of Batman and Joker's first ever meeting, we get two fights between them that are so heavy with symbolism; but it's the second confrontation we're interested in, and that's pictured above. We see that it was Joker who drew blood the first time... it's him who sunk the knife penetrated Bruce at the very beginning. And really, was there a need for the unending focus on Bruce pulling out the blade? But then there's what he does next, and the way it's framed... He starts beating Joker, but then realizes that beating him does absolutely nothing.

So he switches to trying to communicate with him, to trying to tell (the worst) possible joke, all while holding up the knife:

First of all: genuinely terrifying, if I may so myself. Secondly, we're shown Bruce bringing down the knife doing the penetrating, but the next page is not about him having killed Joker. It's Bruce and Alfred having gone fishing, talking about what happened... and why Bruce left Joker alive.

And this is how Tom King chooses to have Bruce say it:

"He put the knife in me." Tom King I am inside your walls. This is exactly how Joker phrased it in his fantasy. And then, we're shown that Bruce couldn't kill Joker; he stuck the knife in him, but didn't kill him.

But what's the other time Tom King wrote Batman, Joker and a knife? Well, that's during the infamous The War of Jokes and Riddles. We're told TWOJAR happened in the second year of Batman's career, so (at least in King's little Universe) pretty soon after The Winning Card-- which takes place in Year 1. And in TWOJAR, after finding out Riddler's motivation for causing so many lives to be lost, Bruce tries to stab him:

[squinting my eyes suspiciously] Thrust the knife out, huh. But then, Bruce never manages to commit murder, because Joker steps in:

Batman (2016) #32

So. If we follow King's own metaphor... Batman tried to have sex with the Riddler and Joker stopped him. Joker couldn't allow it. Bruce ended up stabbing penetrating him instead.

Pictured above: me

Is King the first to do this sort of thing? No, obviously not. Miller equated the violence between Batman and Joker to sex in The Dark Knight Returns, Snyder and Capullo did that too in both Death of the Family and Endgame. Still, it's... deliciously fucked up, and I thought it needed some showcasing.

#I don't wanna say 'writer's poorly disguised kink' but. well #once is happenstance. twice is coincidence. three times is a pattern :))#batjokes #batjokes meta #king's writing #batman #bruce wayne #joker #tw blood #my meta #why YES I am procrastinating something important with all these posts

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oneofstarkskids · 3 months

Text

a girl

peter parker x female!reader

setting: civil war, meeting for the first time

genre: a little angsty at the beginning but it's mostly fluff

you're lost in a trance as you use the blowtorch to reshape the dented metal on one of tony's suits. you insisted that he let you work in the lab because it had a way of taking your mind off of everything else.

and right now, you could really use a distraction. steve was god knows where and the whole team just seemed to be getting closer and closer to falling apart. your family was falling apart.

there was nothing you could do about it and it killed you. of course your dad's way of handling things was just to make demands and empty promises, so you had a hard time seeing a way back from all of this.

natasha tried to tell you that you were wrong. she consoled you and reminded you that tony and steve aren't as different as they think. she held you and told you that everything would be okay.

but how could you believe her when all the evidence showed otherwise?

peter wandered around aimlessly with his head up in the clouds, looking for tony. he popped his head into the doorway of the lab that you were in.

when he saw a person covered head to toe, wearing a mechanics apron, a face shield and gloves that were way too large for their hands, he automatically assumed it was tony. "mr. stark! hey, i was meaning to ask you-"

he was interrupted by you pulling up the face shield. you were exhausted and your hair was stuck to your forehead by the sheen of sweat covering your face. and yet you still managed to take peter's breath away.

"wow," he swallowed. "you're a-uh...a-" he choked on his words.

"a girl," you finished his sentence for him with a smirk.

he let out an awkward laugh that was partially a sigh, "sorry."

"what for?" you asked.

peter just stared at you with big doe eyes.

"i thought you were..." and just as he began to say his name, tony walked in from behind him looking for something specific.

he didn't even spare peter a glance as he spoke, "you better not be flirting with my daughter, parker."

peter's jaw almost dropped. daughter!? it made sense the more he watched the two of you, but it surely wasn't what he was expecting.

"no, sir. i would never. well, it's not that i wouldn't," he changed the subject before he could get himself in anymore trouble. "i was just going to ask where i should come in during the fight. like, should i have a cool catch phrase. maybe something like," he lowered his voice, "a spider bites to kill."

you rolled your eyes and tony looked peter up and down, thoroughly unamused.

"let's skip the catch phrases and instead you can go help rhodey with surveillance," tony clapped him on the back.

"okay. so we'll just say it's a work in progress?" peter asked hopefully.

tony shook his head, "don't push it."

peter slowly backed away, "i'm not hearing 'no'. is that a 'maybe'?"

you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction. the new kid was kind of adorable.

your dad quickly spun around to give you a disapproving look.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #fanfiction #marvel fluff #peter parker #fluff #peter 1 #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #stark!daughter #stark!reader #peter parker x stark!reader

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Author's Note: Yes I reworked this piece because I liked the concept of forbidden attraction, but wanted it slightly different cause I didn't like how I executed it the first time. I think this works much better! Also stay tuned for Tuesday, October 31st cause we have a real treat for Halloween coming!

Joining the 141 had one hard rule: no relationships of any kind between members, but that is something proving to be too much the closer you and Simon get.

You weren’t meant to be here, panting like an animal in heat, nearly naked in Simon’s bed as his fingers traced burning lines down your abdomen and over the curve of your hips to tug playfully at the seam of your panties. Yet that's exactly where you found yourself.

You were pure temptation, forbidden fruit, the most delicious type of sin; you were not supposed to be doing this, but from the moment you first met when you joined the task force as their medic he knew he had to have you and nothing could sate that growing, gnawing hunger in him until he possessed every last inch of you for his own.

It had started innocent enough: chaste glances whenever you came into contact, friendly quips and pleasantries, guiltless touches that never lingered more than need be… until that just wasn’t enough. That nagging ache was just too strong to hold off the closer you both got, the attraction clouding all judgment that told him this was wrong and that he should leave it alone; coworkers couldn't get involved, that was the one rule that was strictly upheld when you joined the task force.

This wasn't like him to risk his job, but he just couldn’t let these feelings go.

How could he when you made him feel alive for the first time in years? Even just being in your presence left him giddy like a fucking teenager again, full of raging hormones and excitement for days after. Why would he not want to have that all for himself?

You weren’t much better, not once you realized what was happening between you. “We’re just friends,” you’d repeat over and over as if the very utterance of the phrase could alter what was slowly creeping its way inside your mind, but the more Simon found reasons to come visit you in the infirmary, the more you knew what not nipping this in the bud would lead to.

And yet you didn’t want it to stop.

He was more than the stoic killer, the man cloaked in the face of death; he was passionate and smart and he looked at you as if he would burn everything to the fucking ground and salt the earth just to have you. To be coveted in such an all-consuming way, having never experienced something so intense before, that was euphoric. How could you possibly let that just walk away?

It was just drinks, it was just staying out a little later than usual, it was just a little crush that’ll pass; that was your excuses for him time and again. And yet you could not help the way you began to imagine coveting such intense passion for your own or what it would be like to have such a strong, virile man take you rough and exasperatedly. To belong to someone who was so obviously obsessed he could not help himself that he was willing to risk it all, put his entire life into jeopardy, it was hard not to get sucked in.

No, not just anyone. Simon. Only Simon.

So that was how you found yourself in his room after hours by some flimsy excuse made that you couldn’t even remember now. And the low light of the room, the tension permeating the space like a heavy fog, the closeness of that beast of a man as he looked down at you with those eyes that screamed he was being swallowed whole by his desire was enough to make things start.

Calloused fingertips sliding across your bare arm were then suddenly around your waist and then your hip. Not once did you try to swat his hand away; you didn’t want that feeling caused by his touch to stop, the one making your mind fuzzy.

Then his shirt was off along with your own and Simon found himself struggling to breathe. Inhaling deep and exhaling just as heavy, he could only stare back at all that soft, supple skin. “Goddamn,” he stammered out the breathless word as those fingers traced patterns on your palms hanging at your sides. “You’re more beautiful than I coulda fuckin’ imagined, sweetheart.”

You’d patched him up so many times, seen more of him than anyone else, and yet here and now it was like experiencing the sight of him bare before you for the first time. Pupils dilated, breaths hitched, nerve endings exploded to life and the overwhelming urge to explore each other until you both knew the other by touch alone filled the space between you.

Those same fingertips played with the button on your jeans, testing how far you were willing to let him go. At any second there was an unknown fear your hand would push his away and you would stop this right in its tracks, but as you gave him a nod and he undid your jeans and slid them down your legs, he allowed himself to hope that this wouldn’t end at all.

Suddenly he grabbed your hand and brought you over to his bed, sitting you down to sit beside you so close he was pressed into your side. Being this close, everything became so clear and even though the room was anything but cold, a shiver went up his spine a the weight of his decision.

"Take it off," he murmured near the side of your head as he filled his nostrils with your scent, that natural musk that was specific to only you, the one that made it near impossible to function whenever you were close. "The mask. I want ya to take it off."

You couldn't be stopped. With unsteady hands you reached up to his face, gently sliding your fingertips under the thin fabric covering his face and slowly you pulled it up and over until all of his visage was revealed to you. It wasn't the first time you'd seen him, but this time was so much more important.

Copper eyes sparkled now that they were released from the bounds of the mask, shifting colors in the pale light as they were so full with emotion. Lust, yes, desire, of course, but so much more and you were caught in their penetrating gaze.

His hand moved up to cup against your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek as his eyes flitted to your lips where he watched the moistened, full bits of flesh call him to embrace. Instead of connecting those yearning bits of flesh, his hand wandered to the back of your head to pull it towards him so that he could rest his forehead against yours.

"I need ya," he said, that gruff voice unable to hide the begging lilt in his tone, "so fuckin' bad."

“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered the half-hearted objection with eyes closed as he leaned in and ghosted his lips over your own, so close he could taste your muggy breath.

Risking more, your fingertips glided across the bulky muscles of his abdomen, called as if by a siren’s song to stroke along all that beautiful skin available for you alone. They danced over the sparse covering of hair that led down into his pants and the sound of him trying to gulp down air to fill his lungs as his breath got caught in his chest caught your attention.

The unbearable need to shove you down onto your back, spread your legs to slip in between, and fuck you until you were too exhausted to move flooded his veins; it was a monumental task to keep himself from giving in, but he had to be sure you wanted this just as bad, that he was not taking something that was not his to take.

That you were willing to accept the risk as well.

“Then tell me ta stop,” he breathed back onto your parted lips, rough fingers taking your chin firmly into his grasp to pull your head up so that he could place his lips along your jawline. Each caress of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, tiny pricks of electricity that had you reeling in agony for more.

Under your chin and down the side of your throat he went, scourging the flesh for anyone else that would dare come after him. “Shove me away, tell me to get the fuck out so ya can get dressed and leave,” he groaned into your skin. “Tell me ya don’t want this and we’ll never fuckin’ speak of it again. But…I want ya to stay; I'm tired of pretending you're not in my goddamn veins and that I don't dream 'bout all the ways ta make ya mine.”

You swallowed hard, sanity slipping violently away the longer his mouth left those euphoric trails of tingles down your neck until your cheeks flushed crimson while that damp heat continued to gather between your legs. Bodies molded into one another, desperately begging to become one in that lust-fueled connection that would send you both straight to hell, the air thick with unrequited desire that had built to its breaking point, you knew there was no way you could leave him now.

Your choice had already been made the moment you stepped inside his room and he shut the door.

Opening your eyes, you waited until he felt you move and pulled his head up so that you could look directly into those copper eyes nearly black now in the dim light. “No,” you shook your head, “I can’t leave, not now. I need you Simon; fuck, I need you so bad it hurts.”

What more was there to say to that? He had wanted to hear you say those words for so long now it almost didn’t feel real, as if at any moment he would wake up alone in his room with a wet spot staining his boxers and the cycle of agony would continue.

Harshly he moved his hand back to where it was wrapped around the back of your head and taking a deep breath he pulled your face to him to crash his yearning mouth onto yours. Fiery and aggressive he captured your lips over and over, greedy to make up for all the lost time he had spent pining for their embrace.

Simon needed you like air in his lungs, like a man dying of thirst needs water, and in that moment nothing existed in the entire world outside of that bed: not consequences or repercussions for his actions, not reprimands or disciplinary actions, not court-martials or anything else the higher ups could threaten him with. The ecstasy of you was worth all the goddamn bullshit he may face for the crime of needing you.

Advancing on top of you, he pushed you down onto your back until you were pressed into his mattress beneath him, his body buzzing from the high of finally unleashing the monster that had kept him suffering. Torsos pressed firmly together so that you could hardly breathe, limbs intertwined as he easily slid between your thighs, hips grinding into one another, he completely lost himself.

“Never thought I’d hear ya say those words,” he groaned into your mouth, making you swallow down his desperation. “Needed ya for so fuckin’ long, thought I was gonna lose my goddamn mind, luv. It’s been so hard tryin’ to keep distance between us. I'm fuckin' dyin' wantin' you and not being able to do a damned thing 'bout it. I don't care what the fuck the rules say, I have ta have ya.”

“Then take me,” you moaned as your hands slipped between your burning bodies and rushed to his belt to loosen it so that you could undo his pants and pull them down. “Please, Simon. Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Simon shimmied to help you until they hung around his ankles and he could kick them off, that same he did with his boxers, never letting up on his assault of your mouth. Fuck, he was so hard it was nearly painful and he hissed as the head of his cock brushed up against you. His large hands pulled at the crotch of your panties, sliding them to the side and out of the way.

The excitement of the moment had gotten to your body and what met his fingers was that sticky moistness that meant you were ready for him. Sitting up on his knees he aligned the tip of his cock so that he could slip through your delicate petals to coat himself in your juices, adding lubrication to make this easier.

You got the first feel of what he had to offer and fuck was more than you could have imagined as it throbbed and pulled near your aching hole. Grabbing onto your hips, he pressed his swollen tip directly onto your entrance and thrust until it slipped inside. Instantly you were filled with him, fuller than you had ever been before, and your head flew back as you mewled loudly at being stretched to capacity.

The agony was finally over.

"N-nh… mmm…" Simon groaned behind closed lips as he jerked. So fucking tight, so soft and warm and wet, it was more than anything he could have hoped for and he had to pause a second to collect himself.

Right and wrong didn't exist anymore, it was only you and him now, reveling in that thrill of experiencing each other for the first time in that most intimate way. As he began to thrust back and forth through your pussy, he knew he would do whatever it took to have you like this over and over again, fuck the rules.

And as his body meshed perfectly with yours as if you were created for one another, cock pounding into you to make the desperate moans escape your lips like quiet praises, you knew that from that moment on no matter what came you were his.

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