#if i wasn't so tired from work and stuff guys

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

[sleepycoffins-and-benhargreeves]

Standrew heart-eyes from $13 Shrimp Vs. $27 Shrimp

[running-in-the-dark]

ooooh. we got an apartment!!!

the house isn't completely finished yet so we can't move in until April. we'll have to figure that out. but that's fine. it's in the town where my husband works! which is amazing.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

woah woah woah yuri you're still alive????

haha what happened you may ask??? well, life just gave me hell and decided that today. TODAY, was gonna top it off with the biggest disaster so far!!!!!

i literally just wanted to have ONE day off after my bday, but the next morning my computer wouldn't work! which was fantastic because literally every single one of my wips/ finished not posted works/ digital art was on there so i stressed. the FUCK. out

it's fixed now ofc and THANKFULLY nothing was lost except the artworks that weren't autosaved that day! (which- yknow, sucks, but there was worse at stake before :'D) after me bEGGING my dad to help me with the problem

except it's NOT OVER yet!!!!

sai's settings and brushes reseted for some reason and my absolute fav custom brushes were gone! so with me trying to recreate them then loosing them all over because they just wouldn't be SAVED OMG and me going for a trip to my uncle's small town and watching the leftover day offs i had dwindle so goshdarn fast i was feeling so sO drained-

and wanna know the funniest thing??? when i come back home ready to post art and FINALLY rant about this what happens?? no wifi :DDDD

prioritizing the water and electricity bills first, i got to work and drew everyday to make it up for you guys and look at that! i have good and horrible news!

so SURPRISE! since you guys have been SO patient with me (thank you all :'D), i will say that i have a LOT of finished works to post! all ranging from 1 animated gif, 9 artworks, 1 illustration that's part of a little prompt idea i came up with (1 done and 4 left)

technically, i have 2 pieces finished and 3 wips for the remaining days of fnk week and 2 new ocs!!!! (and redraws of 4 older ocs, 2 of which are ready to post)

as for the worse news... man. i'm barely hanging here but woo i broke my tablet's pen and it's charging wire!! (i literally don't know how but it got separated from it's body while it was in it and i can't i can't even)

i am so so broken right now- i was so happy to update yesterday and reblog stuff since i finally got wifi again and- man it feels like i'm making this shit up but oh my god i wanna cry

i guess i could post everything i had the chance to draw before but gosh i'm so sorry but i can't promise more art after i announce which one was the last in stock- (at least until i get enough money to buy a replacement for them both)

i know i suck at communicating if i'm alive and just having a hard time but i swear this year was really rough on me and my health in general so i hope you guys can understand :'(

[lighteyed]

you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington

summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls

He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.

"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.

"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.

He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.

"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.

You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"

He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.

You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.

"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.

"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.

"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.

The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.

At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.

"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.

"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.

The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.

When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.

He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?

"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.

"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"

"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.

As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.

"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."

"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.

"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.

"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.

"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.

He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."

"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."

"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"

"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."

His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"

Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.

"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.

The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."

He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader. In the aftermath of your apartment flooding, Sukuna makes you a deal that is too good to pass up. You don't fully know what you're agreeing to, but if you did would it have really changed anything? Reader POV

cw: Sukuna may seem like just a nice guy stepping up but really he's a red flag you're just too tired to see. It's hinted reader has not been treated well in the past but no specifics.

You hadn't known what to do when you woke up to the sound of rushing water. You had acted on instinct and grabbed your daughter from the room next to yours and stood in the kitchen, calling your landlord from the number on your lease to no avail. Your daughter was starting to get fussy and after the fourth attempt with no answer, you felt lost.

Your ex hadn't exactly been the reliable type and he probably would have just contributed by cursing and complaining about shitty landlords and even shittier affordable housing but that wouldn't have helped then and thinking about it wasn't helping you now. Single, alone with your daughter who was growing more disgruntled by the minute.

You hated to even consider but, there was someone who you kept coming back to that you thought could help.

Sukuna.

The tattooed man across the hallway hadn't struck you as the friendly type, but he had proved you wrong in the few months since you moved in. He looked like the type of guy you would cross the street to avoid, but he always had time to stop and talk to you when he saw you. He also always made it a point to say hello to your daughter and listen to her rambles, even when they didn't make sense to you.

Your other neighbors had warned you about him. Stories that included threats and assaults you just couldn't connect to the man who had taken you and your daughter to the aquarium when your piece of shit ex bailed on you both, again.

You had googled him afterwards and what you saw was pages and pages that included things like attempted, suspected and scarier words like murder, hospitalized and other things that just didn't fit with the man you were still getting to know.

The water was still falling and once your daughter started waking up, you called it and went over to the maybe scary man across the hall, who never scared you.

Within ten minutes, you found yourself in Sukuna's guest room while he stayed behind at your apartment to figure everything out. When was the last time someone told you, "I got it." You were always the responsible one. You were the mom friend, the girlfriend people liked to introduce to their parents. You had basically parented yourself!

But now, there was someone who told you that, "I got it."

So who could blame you for going along with what came next. When the next morning came and Sukuna told you that your super had come too late and the apartment was damage and you couldn't stop yourself from putting your head in your hands as your daughter happily munched on the pancakes he had made you both.

"What am I going to do," you groaned and you couldn't help but lean in when Sukuna placed his hand on your cheek.

"He said he would put you up in a hotel until it can be fixed," he said gently and you sighed. You envisioned the next several months in some shitty motel with no kitchen, sharing a lumpy bed with your two year-old, disrupting the routines you had been trying so hard to build as a single mom. No more afternoon trips to the park that was less than a block away. No more feeding the ducks with your leftover veggies or sharing pick up duties with the other moms at the daycare by your work.

"This sucks, I don't want to have to build my life all over again." And you really didn't. This was so frustrating and over what, a little water damage?

"Well," Sukuna started and he tilted your head so you were looking at him. "I do have the guest room. You could move some of your stuff over here and camp out until it's fixed. Pocket the hotel money, use it for something for the kid."

"Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that-"

"I wouldn't offer if it was an imposition," he said, his eyes glinting and for just a second you could see a little of the danger your neighbors had told you about, but then it was gone and he was leaning over you to take another pancake from the serving tray and putting it on your daughter's empty plate.

"It's not just for you, I would-I would feel a lot better knowing the both of you were taken care of. I doubt the hotel that-" he cut off looking over at your daughter, "you know is putting you up in is going to be the safest place for the two of you."

You couldn't believe you were considering it but you were so tired. You felt like life had just become a series of less than ideal circumstances you were forced to deal with just because you didn't want to settle for the wrong guy or give your daughter less than she deserved.

"I would pay rent," you said and he looked ready to argue but you held up your hand. He smiled, amused and gestured go on. "Just until they can fix the apartment and if we get to be too much tell me. We can tough it out in a hotel. We've dealt with worse," you added and he frowned before nodding.

"Deal." He turned to look at your daughter and smiled. "You hear that bug, you and mommy are moving in." Your daughter giggled and clapped her syrup covered hands.

"Temporarily," you reminded him and he smiled at you.

"Right, let's go grab the stuff you'll need while you're here temporarily." He went grabbed a towel and wiped your daughters hands while she kept laughing and chanting "move in, move in!"

Is it your fault that you didn't know that your circumstances were anything but temporary?

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

maknae line

a/n: first reaction ¡! i decided i would go with the "compares you" part. hope i did it well for yall and to the person who requested it, thank u!!! i'll publish maknae line whenever i'm free:]

chan ✉

arguments could get pretty heated with chan sometimes (he's a libra at the end of the day). it could get stressful since you've been going back & forth for so long now, as you tried to make him understand that he wasn't taking care of himself but it only brought back hurtful words that you were letting it pass under the excuse that he was "too tired". maybe you were too naive at that moment thinking that he would calm down and you guys would solve it like you always do.

then you heard it, he didn't say their name but you could only imagine who he was talking about at that point and time. 

"they would just leave me alone and let me be, why can't you do the same? ah right you're not them and you will never be." he said and horror washed him instantly as they realized what they did. fights were inevitable but you can always keep comments to yourself right? it was just the heat of the moment that made him slip out such cruel words. as soon as you were turning away to leave, he was trying to find his way to you but it was too late anyways. "baby nono, don't leave not right now, it's late and i was fucking stupid. i'm so fucking sorry-."

"i just need some space right now, yeah? i need to be away from you." you said and that only made him worry even more as that's the last thing he wanted right now. "just let me christopher, we'll talk when i get back." 

"don't call me that, i'm still your channie, your boyfriend and i still fucking love you. listen i'm sorry but please don't go." he said close to the tears falling from his eyes and you just shook your head as you grabbed your things and he followed you around the house like a lost puppy. "(y/n) let's work this out yeah? i'll go to the dorms tonight and you'll stay here."

eventually knowing he wouldn't give up, you just nodded as you went to your shared bedroom and sighed. letting the tears finally from your eyes and hearing the door close was enough to let your sobs out from how much those words stung in your heart.

minho ✉ 

fighting with minho wasn't easy. his witty responses and his hurtful comments always stood out like daggers in your heart. he usually didn't fight at all but when he did, most of the time he took it too far and it wasn't easy to forget what he said. as the new comeback approached, you tried your best to be supportive but when you couldn't see them on their first win, it hurt minho. he wanted you to be there, backstage or in the crowd cheering for them but he did not see you anywhere. turns out you were too late, had a "work" emergency, he called bullshit on that.

"i'm sorry min, i'll promise i'll be on the next one. my boss really needed me and-." he cut you off immediately, not wanting to hear it.

"it's fine. it's not like they would miss out on this like you did. maybe i should just get back with them." he muttered and it was enough for you to walk away from him. all the boys were there to talk to him about what just happened and why were you crying but he was completely petrified from your reaction and how you just went away without a word. "god i'm such a fucking idiot." he said as he chased after you through the hallways.

"don't even try talking to me. i get that you're fucking mad but that doesn't give you an excuse to say stuff like that." you said as you still walked away and didn't even look in his direction. minho tried to process what was happening all at once but couldn't bare to see the look in your eyes as the tears were still going down your face.

"please listen to me for a second. it was stupid that i got mad, i should've understood you from the beginning but please stay and i'll make it up to you. i promise." he said and even if it did sound sincere, you just couldn't do it.

"i'm sorry, i think i wanna be alone tonight." you said as you looked at him one last time and kissed his cheek before muttering "goodbye minho" and walking through the door. leaving a distraught and regretful minho behind.

changbin ✉ 

it wasn't rare for you to fight with changbin, what was rare was when he got mad. this time when you were at the studio, making sure 3racha were feeling well and not overworking themselves, you were met with a furious bin. it surprised you, you've never seen him mad and maybe something else was happening that you didn't know or you chose the worst time to visit the studio. whatever it was, it made you feel so small and like you were in a place you did not belong. jisung and chan weren't even there to witness it but you guessed that as soon as they heard, they left you guys alone.

"look i'm sorry. i don't know what i did wrong but that doesn't excuse your attitude and how you're treating me right now!" you said but it wasn't enough to his ears as he gave you the next words.

"god i can never say anything, at least with them they would let me express myself. i should've never broken up with them if i knew i was gonna end up with you." ouch was all that could be said about that as you nodded and felt the water in your eyes grow slowly. "shit- i'm so fucking sorry, i don't know what came over me baby."

he tried to get close to you but you just took a step back and that broke changbin's heart completely. it made him feel like a monster in front of you but he couldn't blame you for that, it was all his fault in the end. when he saw you walk away, as much as he wanted to, he decided not to follow you and let you go. he couldn't describe what he was feeling when he saw you practically run away from the building and not answer for jisung's calls since he was just walking in with chan. 

"what the fuck happened hyung?" jisung asked as he crossed his arms and that's when changbin lost the control of his tears. he wasn't one to usually cry but he was now gonna be haunted with muttering those words to you and what he made you feel in that moment.

"i fucked it up like i always do." he said brokenly.

hyunjin ✉

as much as you loved hyunjin, he got so petty in fights it was irritating. he was the definition of drama queen and he could fight on & on about the tiniest of details. like right now when you just got home and you forgot to do some things in your shared apartment. tiny things like the dishes or the laundry usually didn't piss him off but today when he got home practice and saw, in his words, that the whole house was upside down, he got stressed. 

"look i'm sorry, i forgot to do it and i know you've been busy with practice. i'll do it tomorrow since i get to go home earlier." you tried to explain but he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

"tomorrow? are you serious? they would've done it right here and now and wouldn't be putting up excuses like you're doing." he didn't even have to mention them for you to know who he was talking about. it felt like twisting the knife on the wound as you just looked at him with the most hurtful stare.

"of course they would. they didn't have a job in the first place and relied on you for everything!" you said and laughed bitterly but in a sad way. "if it's my job then it's a problem but with your job there's literally no excuse right? 'cause it's more important. grow up hyunjin." 

"look babe i'm sorry. i don't know what the fuck i was thinking when i said that." he tried to make up an excuse at the moment but he knew nothing would justify what he said and implied with his words. it was met with a sigh from you and it was your turn to shake your head. "i don't think your job is less important and i shouldn't have said what i said-."

"but you said it." you whispered and decided to head to your shared bedroom to lock the door. you needed some time alone not only because of the harsh words but because it made you process your whole relationship in a flashback. 

[yoon-kooks]

seven tattoos later | jjk

🐰pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x tattooartist!reader

🐰genre: fluff, smut

🐰summary: if the hottest fuck boy in town made it a point to visit your little tattoo studio every week, how many tattoos would it take to make you fall in love with him?

🐰word count: 3.3k

🐰warnings: unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, sex on the couch, doggy, hes big and rough, lip tattoos, hickeys, lil bit of drinking, hes so annoying in this im so sorry

As you close up for the night, you look out the window and count at least four couples out for a dog walk. It’s past eight, but still warm and bright out. It’s like the sun never stops shining. Summer sucks like that.

Maybe you’d appreciate the sun a little more if you had a puppy to walk or at least a handsome guy friend to drag you outside so you aren’t just rotting away in your empty tattoo studio on a Friday night. Everyone’s apparently on vacation or getting married in Hawaii or something, so work’s been exceptionally slow this week. Fuck summer.

It’s lonely.

You might even miss Jeon Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to get along with. The first time he walked into your studio, he didn’t waste any time in hitting on you and making it painfully obvious. You were convinced he only walked in and got a tattoo that day because he thought you’d be an easy lay. 

That was around two months ago.

“What do you think would look good on me?” he’d asked while scrolling through your portfolio. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to take in his good looks, imagine the carved out physique beneath that leather jacket. That’s what guys like him do. And he was far from the first male client to ask you that. He wasn't special.

“I don’t know, maybe like a bunny or a duckling?” You just said the first things that came to mind—your two favorite animals. You didn’t give a flying fuck about what design would actually look good on someone you’d just met. Your icy heart definitely doesn’t warm up to people that quickly no matter how hot they are.

“Bunnies are cute,” he said without hesitation. You swear he was staring right at the dainty bunny tattoo on your collarbone. Then he tapped the top of his left hand, the one without all the other tattoos. “I’ll take one right here.” 

At the time, you didn’t think he was serious. (He was serious.)

“So, for touch-ups and stuff, it’d probably be good if I had your number, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the counter and admiring the final product on his hand. Him and his cocky ass smile. It’s annoying how hot he is. Unfair, too.

After inputting your number into his phone, you needed to make one thing very clear: “Send me a dick pic and I’ll tattoo all of your exes’ names on your forehead.”

“I promise no dick pics,” he chuckled. He must’ve taken your threat as a cute little joke. “But I would like to take you out sometime.”

For a moment, you just stared at his handsome face. Everything about him was bright and shiny. His pretty eyes, the art wrapped around his arm, that confident smile. The sun had nothing on him.

But the thing is, you knew better than to trust guys like him. They’re always saying shit they don’t mean. And you were tired of being let down by those empty words.

What would make Jeon Jungkook any different from the fuck boys who’ve burned you in the past?

You didn’t know enough about him to answer that question, but you also weren’t willing to get to know him.

It was for the best.

So after you politely declined the invitation, the boy nodded, waved farewell, and jogged out the door. At least he was decent enough to accept his fate and move right along. (He wasn’t.)

Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of him, he spun around. “See you next week for the touch-up, Y/N.”

He was still smiling like an idiot. You didn’t understand why.

“You’re not gonna need a touch-up in a week,” you shouted back as he dashed off. Fast little fucker. You doubt he heard you, but it didn’t really matter. With all those other tattoos, he already knew how touch-ups worked.

Besides, what were the odds of him showing his pretty face again after rejection? Every other client you turned down never came back. Not even for a touch-up.

You didn’t believe for a second Jeon Jungkook would be back.

A week later, he proved you wrong and waltzed right back in like you never rejected his ass. Of course he did. The week after that, he had three of your designs etched into his hand. And he just kept coming back for more, week after week.

Somewhere along the way, you learned he’s a wedding photographer, an artist like you. He’s shown you his photos a few times even after you specifically said you hate weddings. The photos were gorgeous, though. As much as weddings make you want to gag, the sweet moments he captured had the reverse effect. Somehow, you were envious of what those couples had.

You’ve also overcome the impossible task of learning to tolerate his dumb humor. It’s probably because his laugh and smile are so contagious. He won’t stop running his mouth until he sees you smile either, especially when you’re having a bad day. Your cheeks hurt whenever he’s with you.

Fast forward two months and he now has a total of seven of your tattoos. It feels weird not seeing him this week, not breathing in his woodsy cologne, not leaving your mark on his perfect skin. But you suppose that’s just what happens when the guy who’s been annoying the shit out of you suddenly goes to Hawaii. The withdrawal symptoms are kicking in. 

Your world is a whole lot quieter. It’s peaceful for once. And yet, you miss that chaotic idiot. 

Fuck summer. Fuck people who get married in Hawaii.

Your phone buzzes just as you finish cleaning up. Hopefully it’s someone who wants to book an appointment. (It’s not.)

When you read “jungcock,” you roll your eyes with the faintest smile—the perfect example of your clashing feelings for the boy.

jungcock🥴 [8:24PM] “Got time for me tonight?🫦”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “arent you supposed to be in hawaii rn?”

Y/N🐰 [8:24PM] “and dont use that emoji ever again”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “I’d never choose Hawaii over you😌”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “(They called off the wedding)”

jungcock🥴 [8:25PM] “🫦”

[8:25PM] [jungcock🥴 is now blocked]

[8:31PM] [You’ve unblocked jungcock🥴]

jungcock🥴 [8:31PM] “Is that a yes?”

Y/N🐰 [8:31PM] “i hate you a lot”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “Hear me out”

jungcock🥴 [8:32PM] “What if😳👉👈 I brought snacks?”

Y/N🐰 [8:34PM] “fine”

You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket. Sometimes you wonder how you let this dork finesse his way into your life. Where did you go wrong?

Jungkook arrives at your studio ten minutes later with your favorite peace offerings—soju and pancakes. Ah yes, this is how he finessed his way to the top.

“Ooh snacks,” you hum as if you didn’t believe in his ability to pick something up on the way over. “What kind of pancakes did you get?”

“Your favorite, obviously,” he nods, handing you the warm box and a fork. There’s something about the way he crosses his arms, as though he’s just waiting to catch your reaction when you open it. Why does he look so fucking proud of himself?

“I never told you my favorite pancakes.” You raise a brow. The only thing you told him was your favorite pancake place. But they have like a million different options, ranging from classic (blueberry and chocolate chip) to fancy (tiramisu and that edible gold stuff). There’s no way he can magically guess your favorite pancake.

“Just open it.” He gives you his idea of a “playful shove” on the shoulders, which would’ve knocked you over with the pancakes if he hadn’t grabbed a hold of your wrist. He was definitely that annoying kid on the playground who chased around all the girls he had a crush on.

You mumble on about him being too rough as you open the box. To your surprise, it’s strawberries and whipped cream drenched in red syrup on top of a fat stack of pancakes—aka your favorite pancakes.

You look up from the mountain of strawberries and tilt your head at the boy like a confused puppy.

“I asked the waitress with the purple hair what you normally order,” he explains.

“Okay, but she doesn’t know me by name. How’d you describe me to her?”

He takes a few steps closer until you get a whiff of that woodsy cologne you missed so much. You feel the tips of his fingers trace along your collarbone. He’s not so rough anymore. In fact, the warm caress just barely grazes your skin, as if to tease your body. You’ve always lowkey looked forward to that tiny bit of warmth while working on his tattoos. Maybe he’s always been aware.

“I called you a cutie with a bunny tattoo.” His nose scrunches when he smiles this time, giving your skin one last poke. “She knew it was you when I showed her the one on my hand.”

Of course Jeon Jungkook walked into your favorite pancake place pretending to be your boyfriend. Of course he did something as embarrassing as showing off what appears to be matching tattoos. All for the sake of bringing you your favorite pancakes on an otherwise shitty summer night.

“Now she’ll think we have matching tattoos,” you say softly, shoving his chest. “How am I supposed to show my face in there ever again?”

“Hey, I don’t have a problem with the whole matching tattoos thing.” He puts his hands up to protect his chest from your wrath in case you’re feeling feisty. “I’ll just pick it up for you again.”

You’re not feeling feisty, so you give the boy a thumbs-up and bring him over to the couch in the back corner of the studio where you usually eat or take naps.

At long last, you stab a piece of pancake and strawberry and coat it in whipped cream before shoving it into your mouth. It’s delicious. “Is it mean if I say I’m glad the Hawaii wedding was canceled?”

“Because you’d be lonely without me here?” he teases.

“No, it’s because you bought me free pancakes, you simp,” you grin, handing off the fork to the simp so he too can get a taste of heaven. He passes you the soju in return even though you’re already feeling a little giggly.

“It’s not free,” he denies. “I’m supposed to be here for another tattoo, remember?”

After a tiny sip, you set the green bottle aside and grab Jungkook’s hand with both of yours. It looks so silly with all your tattoos surrounding the cute little bunny in the middle. He’s silly for letting you do that to him.

“I don’t think there’s any more room on your hand for another one,” you giggle. “Where am I gonna tattoo you next?”

You wonder how many tattoos he has under his clothes. Maybe he’s already got them all over the place. Then, eventually, his body will run out of space and you won’t be able to tattoo him anymore. That would suck. You kinda like his company.

“What about a lip tattoo?” you chirp, tapping on his lower lip with your index finger. When he doesn’t swat you away, you tug down on his lip ring to check for a hidden tattoo there. Nothing. “I have one.”

“You do?” His eyes immediately fall on your red strawberry lips. You pull down your lower one for him to see tiny black letters that read “bad girl.”

“My ex did it. I was supposed to tattoo ‘bad boy’ on his lip, but he chickened out,” you shrug. “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Wait, I thought you can’t stand matching tattoos?” He’s such a good listener. Boyfriend material.

“I didn’t have anything against them up until that point,” you hum as you play with his wavy hair. The perm is cute on him. “But that’s basically when my perspective changed.”

That’s when you lost faith in men. When you grew to hate the idea of marriage. When you started rejecting every guy who approached you, even if he was half as hot as Jeon Jungkook.

“Well fuck your ex,” he frowns. Yeah, fuck him. No, wait. Your ex isn’t the one you want to fuck right now. “You’ve convinced me. The next tattoo I’m getting is a lip tattoo.”

“Got any design ideas for what you want there?” You climb into his lap, cup his chin with one hand, and play with his lip piercings some more. You’ve never been this up close and personal with Jungkook, but you like it. You can already feel his cock hardening beneath you through your leggings.

“Your lips,” he says without hesitation. Cheesy, but you’ll take any excuse right now to close the gap between you and him.

Just like that, something clicks in your body, and your lips just find their way to his. You’re not sure how much of it is alcohol and how much is your actual feelings for the boy, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when the kiss tastes like strawberry pancakes. It’s perfect.

You throw your arms over his shoulders as he kisses back. He’s already got his hands slipped up the back of your little tank top. 

Your hips start to roll against him.

“Should we close the blinds?” he asks against your lips. “Unless you like an audience.”

You glance at the window. The sun is finally going down, but of course people are still walking their dogs. Maybe they didn’t get the memo that it’s officially fucking hours, not dog walking hours.

Normally, you’d be all for closing the blinds and turning out the lights, but your ass is nice and comfy in his lap and you’d rather not change that. Plus the back of the couch should hide 90% of what’s going on.

You shed your tank top off and toss it onto the coffee table next to the unfinished pancakes. His big eyes flick to your lacy black bralette. 

“Let them watch.” You press your lips into his neck and suck away like a vampire. The hickeys you’re about to leave him with will have to make do as temporary tattoos for now. You’re not gonna have time to tattoo him tonight.

“You sure you want people to see you so desperate and needy like this?” he asks as you wiggle out of your leggings. His hands immediately find your ass and give it a good squeeze.

“I’m not needy,” you whine, your naughty hand feeling how large his cock is through his joggers.

“I think you’re pretty needy, Y/N.” Two fingers slip past your thong and spread the wet lust between your legs. He has the biggest smirk on his face as your body squirms to his touch. You do everything in your power to hold back a gasp. “Do you want me to fuck you that badly?”

Yes, but you’re not going to admit it. Ever.

“No way,” you answer with confidence. He helps you out of his lap and you let him prop you up on your hands and knees so he can get a good look at your ass. “This is just my way of thanking you for the pancakes since we both know you aren’t getting that lip tattoo tonight.”

“The lip tattoo can wait.” You feel your thong drop to the couch where it belongs. Two very strong hands hold you at the waist. “You’re my number one priority tonight.”

As he fills you with his cock, you’re already melting to the heat between your legs. Your weak little arms lose all their strength. You reach for your fluffy white cloud pillow to muffle your moans and let him do all the work from behind.

The tight hold he has on you is a mix of possessiveness and all the sexual tension built up over the past two months. You wonder how many times he thought about bending you over and fucking you silly in the midst of getting a cute little frog tattoo. You’ve seen the way his lustful eyes look at you during his appointments. You’re not that oblivious.

“Nice ass tattoo, by the way.” He pinches the bit of skin with two pink butterflies. You’d always regretted that one because not everyone shares the same appreciation for it, but that tiny love pinch made it all worth it. “You and your cute little tattoos.”

He slides in and out, pounding your deepest spot, and drawing a pathetic whimper from your throat every few seconds. Doesn’t help that he has a finger or two rubbing away at your swollen little clit. That’s when you realize you’ve been missing out on amazing sex for far too long. Seven whole tattoos. That’s how long it took before you gave in.

He’s already rougher now than the playful shove that nearly knocked you over earlier. Good.

This is exactly what you need after such a boring work week.

“What would you be doing now if I were taking wedding pictures in Hawaii?” His voice is getting breathier. He’s working hard out there.

“Gagging at all the romantic shit you’d be sending me.” Even if he weren’t physically there with you, you know he’d still find a way to be annoying. He’d let you know he’s still thinking of you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you gag tonight.” You don’t have to turn around to know he’s got that dumb smirk on his face. “Maybe another time. If you’re into that.”

Your response is a soft moan into the pillow. The thought of his cock shoved down your throat isn’t as repulsive as you would’ve thought two months ago. Giving head isn’t usually your thing, but you’re open to trying it with him. You’re glad he can’t see you lick your lips.

He doesn’t slow down either, instead picking up the pace and going harder. Your fingers dig into the pillow, your whole body dripping in pleasure. It feels too good.

“Mm, Jungkook,” you pant like a poor puppy with your ass up in the air. Your little clit can’t take much more of his fingers. You’re so close.

“Thought you couldn’t stand me,” he teases as you tighten around him. He’s so annoying! During sex, too. “And now you’re about to cum for me?”

“Fuck you,” you gasp as the wave of pleasure passes through you. His fingers and cock help you ride out the high. He’s lucky he’s a sweet guy with a strong sex game. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fallen for his annoying ass.

As soon as he pulls out, he flips you onto your back, staring down at you with his cock in hand. A few extra pumps along his length is all he needs to get his release and drizzle your belly with his creamy glaze.

He climbs over you to give you a soft peck on the lips. You’ve been with a lot of fuck boys before, but you can’t remember any of them kissing you once the sex was done and over with.

This boy is different.

He lets you lie there, basking in the afterglow as he searches the studio for a clean towel. When he finally gets ahold of one, he offers a hand to help you sit up and gets you cleaned up.

“All jokes aside, I’m happy you were here tonight,” you say in a tiny voice. “Fuck Hawaii weddings.”

He chuckles in his usual adorkable way. “You should come to a wedding with me sometime—when I’m not working, of course. Maybe you won’t hate them as much as you think.”

You lean in for another kiss. There’s still a hint of pancake on his tongue, but it's even sweeter. “Sure.”

The corners of his lips curve upward in satisfaction. The annoying little shit is about to jump out. You can feel it. (The annoying little shit does not jump out.)

“Now finish your pancakes,” he smiles. For once, it’s not him looking all smug and shit. And it’s really endearing.

Somehow, he just keeps proving you wrong. In a good way.

You look at your favorite pancakes on the table and wave them off. “Nah, I’m good.” Once more, you scoot your ass onto him and press a finger to his lip. “I think I like the taste of you better.”

[retroellie]

Loud

Summary: After being dragged to a small town for a case, spencer found himself littering the town with his moans because he couldn't keep quiet.

A/N: I actually hate this, but i wanted to post something. Work has been killing me (literally) Anyways, miss yall <3

Warnings: NSFW, riding, dirty talk, praise, normal CM stuff

Word count: 3.9K

Spencer Reid was vocal in anything he did whether it be profiling, chess, books, statistics... you name it and he can talk your ear off about it. So this didn't come as a surprise to you when he was extremely vocal and loud in bed. He would whimper and whine until his noises were bouncing off the walls, consuming every single quiet corner. He couldn't help it, it was so hard to focus on anything when his cock was deep inside of you. It did not help that you tried your hardest to get these noises out of him, it fed the huge ego that you had developed since having sex with him.

Spencer had been shamed his entire life for how talkative and loud he was, so he assumed his loud whimpers weren't an exception. He tried so desperately to keep quiet, he would bite his lips till they bled, shove his face into your skin until it turned red, he would strain himself so hard so no noise could sneak past his lips. You hated the fact, that Spencer tried so hard to keep his noises in. You wanted him to enjoy himself, you wanted him to be comfortable with everything you were doing with and to him. You didn't want him to feel like he had to hide, ever.

To be completely honest, you had grown to enjoy his high-pitched whimpers filling the room. It was your favorite song, your favorite melody to play as you rode him into the sun. You would constantly reassure him that you loved those noises, you would even sometimes punish him if he tried to hide them. One time you even got so frustrated with his shyness that you edged him for 2 hours, teasing him with your pussy until all he could do was babble... suddenly a 187 IQ went straight down to 60.

As much as you loved his loud moans and would usually encourage them! This was neither the place nor time to be letting them flow out of his mouth freely...

A case had dragged the team all the way to a small town in Alaska, a population of less than 300 people. It was a quiet town, made on top of hunting and farming. There was only one motel, the townspeople were more than happy for you and the team stayed in it. They were actually more eager to get you checked into the motel, they had all been so tired of this person killing their loved ones.

It was a small motel, with only 4 rooms and 2 shared bathrooms between the team. You couldn't complain though, it was beautiful and quiet... quiet, something Spencer wasn't being at the moment. Something along the long trip here had gotten you excited, basically bursting at the seams as you were immediately on top of Spencer as soon as you stepped foot into the room.

Both of your clothes had been scattered around the small room floor, things knocked over from tables, the bed already looked slept in as you rode Spencer roughly. There was already so much noise that echoed through the room, between Spencer's moans, the sound of slapping skin and the headboard being rocked into the wall. You prayed that the others didn't hear, but it was a small and old motel... The walls were thin. You were going at an animalistic pace, trying to get both of you guys off in a quick round so you wouldn't disturb the rest of the motel for long and hoping it was quick enough to be able to be written off as "old cabin" sounds. You knew Spencer wouldn't last too much longer, due to his high pitched whimpering and beet red face. He started off good, his moans stayed below a whisper but his cock started grazing the spongy part deep inside you... he couldn't hold back.

"Shhh..." You shushed, putting a hand over his mouth as his eyes fluttered closed. "gotta be quiet honey... Morgan and Garcia are quite literally 5 inches away from us."

Spencer moaned into your hand, digging his nails into your thighs. He couldn't make out most of your words, his hearing going in and out as you spoke to him. He threw his head back, your hand falling from his mouth as he obeyed you and quieted his moans.

"72 inches...." Spencer huffed out, squeezing his eyes shut as his cock twitched inside of you. He was so extremely close to the edge that he could taste it.

"What?" You asked. Your words barely above a whisper as your confusion took over your mind.

Spencer let out a few more moans, gripping tightly onto your thighs they started turning red and will probably leave a bruise in the morning. Your confusion led you to slow your movements, causing a whimper from spencer to rise from his chest. He sounded whiney, almost pathetic as he pouted that your movements had slowed. Spencer squirmed underneath you, taking in a breath as he found the words to explain himself.

"Garcia and m-morgan are actually 72 inches from us..." He stuttered, moving his hips up to meet you as your confusion still filled your head.

You didn't really even want to know how he figured that out, especially since the only time you guys had been in this room is now... and Spencer didn't have enough time to scope the room before you were on him. Spencer's mind worked in mysterious ways, it was the main reason why you were riding him now. His mind was amazing to you, his knowledge of literally anything was so impressive that it felt so amazing that only you could make him a dumb, moaning mess. Spencer looked up at you as you furrowed your brows, a face that he saw often because everyone was confused about why he knew anything he knew.

"I took the square footage of the building, divided it into 4 rooms, and then..." Spencer couldn't finish because, with a swift move of your hand, you took your underwear that had been hanging off one of your ankles and showed it in his mouth to silence him.

He looked up at you with big eyes, his surprise taking over his face as you leaned down to be face to face with him. He bit down on your panties as you drove your pussy down on him, a couple of hard thrust almost pushing him over the edge.

"It doesn't matter..." You hissed, watching his eyes snap shut as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. "Either way, they can hear you... the entire cabin can hear you. Do you really want our coworker to know how much of a whiny brat you actually are?"

Spencer whimpered softly, the taste of your juices making his back arch into you and his hips thrust widely. Your dominance leaked from every pore of your body, only causing Spencer to moan louder. You were getting frustrated with him, his moans bouncing off the walls as the sound of your hips hitting his was still echoing through the cabin. However, there was a slight bit of excitement that coursed through your body. Everyone hearing how easily you can break down the boy wonder, everyone knowing that you were the only one who can reduce a 187 iq down to 0 with just one swift move of your hips.

"can't... gonna..." He tried to get his words out through your underwear that was stuffed into his mouth. He was shaking now, frustrated with his inability to speak but also your slowed movements. You chuckled softly, brushing his hair from his face before pecking his cheek.

"Gonna what?" You asked, mocking his inability to form a single sentence. "Gonna cum huh? Gonna cum in me like a good boy?"

Spencer whined softly, your praise ripping his self-control away from him. He could no longer control his loud moans or his hips snapping back into yours. You leaned back from him, sitting straight as you placed your hands on his chest. You prepared yourself to go faster, preparing yourself to push you both off that edge. You lifted yourself and then snapped your hips back down over and over again, watching as Spencer bit harder down on your underwear with each thrust. Your nails dug into his chest, your own moans escaping your mouth as you sloppily thrust into him. It took only seconds for you both to be cumming, your liquids soaking the bed beneath you.

You shoved your face into the sheets next to Spencer, moaning loudly into them as you were too embarrassed for your own moans to be heard. Your body spasmed out, not able to stop your hips from fucking yourself through your orgasm. Spencer had been doing no better than you had. He had left his body and went to cloud nine, your underwear now soaked with his drool as his body tensed. His nails were still dug so deeply into your hips, small moon-shaped crescents were becoming present now. It was a fast but lovely type of pleasure, it was there and then it wasn't.

Your body shook, hands placed into Spencer's hair as you left sloppy kisses on his neck appraisingly. Spencer was coming back into his body as you did so, each kiss sent him further down within himself until he was there and he was present with you.

"Did so good for my love..." You spoke, continuing your kisses on his neck. Spencer and neck kisses were like a puppy to a treat, his favorite way of getting praised. "Always so good for me. How'd I get so lucky huh?"

Spencer couldn't help his blush, he loved the praise and it had caused his cock to twitch once more. You rubbed his cheek softly, leaving a small little love bite down his neck. He definitely was going to scold you for that decision in the morning but as of right now, you did not care. All you cared about was the fact that you were deeply fucked for spencer, you just fucked him in a small town, with a serial killer on the loose, while your coworkers were 72 exact inches away. How fucked can someone be for another person?

"Not lucky..." Spencer whispered out, his voice raspy. Your panties had been taken out of his mouth, laying by his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Just really nice boobs." He joked.

You chuckled softly, pecking his neck one last time before sitting up. You were still straddling him, feeling as his cock was starting to get hard again. The way your sweat-drenched chest looked while on top of him had his cock standing to attention, his exhaustion soon melting away and turning to excitement. You would have loved to go a couple more rounds, fucking spencer till he cried and than passing out in his arms was one of your favorite before-bed activities. However, this was not the time or place to go multiple rounds.

You looked around the room, looking for anything in your close proximity to clean you both up with. Spencer took this time to sit up, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place as he started to work his own soft kisses down your neck. The feeling felt heavenly, his hardening cock beginning to brush against your clit as his mouth worked wonders on your soft spots. You could feel yourself slowly start to melt into his kisses, moaning softly when he nibbled at your collar bone.

Spencer was kind of messy and dumb when he was horny, he didn't have much common sense when it came to it. All he cared about was how good it felt, how the inside of your walls would clench around him until he felt he would go crazy if he didn't cum deep within you. So as of right now, his mind was not in the place yours was. He wasn't thinking about the serial killer on the loose or your team being only inches from you, all he was thinking was you and how he wanted to be inside you once more.

If you weren't in your "FBI profiler" mode then you would have caved in the moment he started kissing your neck, but you were and you knew one round was enough for right now. You didn't want to disturb the motel more than you already had, knowing that Morgan was definitely going to be teasing the both of you in the morning. You just wanted to save you both the embarrassment of it all, even if Spencer was the one making all the noise.

"I gotta take a shower." You said simply, reaching up to grab his face in your hands. He looked up at you, eyes glossed over with lust as he looked at you like you were a goddess. That look alone was going to really make this much more hard than it already was. You left softly little kisses along his face, the only thing you could do without losing complete control over what your vagina did.

"Can I come too?" He said innocently, his lip coming to rest between his teeth.

You wanted to say yes, so desperately wanted to let him come with you. But you knew better. You knew that every time you took a shower with spencer he some how had your face shoved against the cold wall as he fucked you roughly. Spencer didn't like the germs that came with sex, so he let loose when he fucked you in the shower. It was never an innocent "I'm going to help you get clean" shower, it was always a shower that still came out dirty. You sighed softly, brushing your hand through his hair as you knew the one single word that was going to come out of your mouth was going to break his little heart.

"No." You stated simply.

"What! why?" He pouted, looking like a literal child as he did so.

You smirked softly, hoping off his lap as you made your way to your closet. You were still naked, with only a flimsy button-up over your shoulders. Spencer thought you had been teasing him, watching your thighs glisten with his cum as it dripped out of you. He wanted more, he craved more and you were completely denying him of a need. Spencer knew in the morning he was going to regret this entire decision, he wasn't dumb. He knew he would cringe at the fact he was so loud, that Morgan would probably cook him for this one. But he didn't care, all he could focus on was his now very hard cock.

"Because..." You mocked him, bending down to grab your pajama pants that somehow made their way onto the floor when you threw your bags down. You weren't worried about where they would land, you were too worried about the fastest way to get Spencer's cock in you. "Showers always end with sex and since you can't keep quiet... you will not be joining me."

You took a washrag from the desk, assuming that the motel staff put them there for your stay, and wiped his cum off the insides of your thighs. Spencer pouted some more, letting out huffs and promises that he'll be quiet and blah blah blah. You didn't hear much of it though, trying to clean yourself up as best as you could before going over to Spencer and doing the same thing. He was still pouting when you wiped your own juices off his cock, making sure to get his lower stomach as you did so.

This was definitely a punishment, it was so much fun hearing spencer begging to fuck you and get all high-pitched when he didn't get his way. When he was all cleaned up, you quietly collected your things as he listed the reason for you to let him get in the shower with him, your favorite one being "You made a mess out of me! I need to get cleaned up too!". You knew his intention was not to get clean in that shower, you knew he'd somehow end up inside of you. You were stronger-willed than him however, you begged and he would cave almost instantly but it was not the same for you. You couldn't tell if you were good at not giving in or if Spencer was bad at begging.

"You will live my love." You smirked, collecting your things in a small shower bag before making your way to him. You bent down to peck his lips softly, taking his face in your hands as you did so. "One shower without me will not kill you."

Spencer tried to make the kiss deeper, trying to make it so you just couldn't say no to the hard passionate kiss he had created. You again were much stronger than that, pulling away with a smirk as he whimpered at the loss of your lips. Spencer sighed softly, he couldn't stand your self-control sometimes. You grabbed buttoned up the long button up shirt, making your way to the door.

"There's still an unsub on the loose, so it might kill me." He pouted out, watching you walk away. You couldn't help but laugh loudly at his words, shaking your head as you did so.

"Alright well, don't die I guess." You joked back, opening the door to your hotel room. Spencer ripped the sheets over him as he was still sitting on the bed, cock out and everything. "cause then you wouldn't ever get to fuck me ever again."

You fake pouted, watching as he rolled his eyes as you mocked him. You stepped outside the room, closing the door as you did so. You swear he was going to be the death of you, his sassiness and sex drive was going to one day make it impossible for you to even utter the words "no" to him. But for tonight, you were going to take a nice hot shower without your boyfriend's cock deep inside of you... although that did sound nice.

-

You made your way down the steps to the old motel, files in your hand as Spencer followed closely behind you. There was a new break in the case, a new suspect that the town's sheriff had put together with the help of your profile. This caused hotch to call your cell phone at 4 am, telling you that you needed to be at the police station in 20 minutes. You debated on getting up this morning, wanting nothing more than to sleep off the side effects of an overwhelming orgasm. Your thighs were sore and your legs were still slightly shaking. Spencer wasn't doing any better, for he had to go to bed with a hard cock.

He woke up extremely needy this morning, but he couldn't do anything about it due to the fact you both were rushed out of your hotel room to come and once again go over the details of the profile. You found yourself being extremely irritated with the day already, you should've just caved in and let spencer fuck you... maybe this mood you were in could have been avoided if you didn't avoid the orgasm. You debated on if you and spencer could get in a quickie in before you arrived at the station, but most of the drive there was spent going over case details and you actually did care about catching this fucker.

You both arrived a bit late, the team had already begun talking about the suspect and Morgan even went in to interview him. As soon as you two had stepped foot into the room, the team had stopped what they were doing and their eyes landed on you both. Even Hotch had begun looking and if Hotch looks then you know it's bad. Spencer was completely clueless about it, he was never much for picking up on social cues, but you knew. Spencer sat down with a smile, saying "good morning" before digging right into the new case file.

"Good morning indeed, pretty boy." Morgan teased, causing the rest to snicker.

'Oh god, it's already starting' you thought to yourself, hoping that you could at least get a moment of peace before they started throwing their jokes at the two of you. You rolled your eyes, sitting down at a chair next to Spencer as you sat your stuff down on the table. You were not prepared for today, even on 3 cups of coffee you could not handle this. Spencer squinted his eyes at the team, again not really picking up on their reason for laughing.

"Did y'all sleep well?" Morgan added, hoping at least Spencer would fall right into his trap... and he did.

"Yeah, we slept as good as you could in a 60-year-old bed," Spencer said back, his statement not even an overstatement. Those beds were around 60 years old and they sounded like it when you fucked in them.

You just kept your head down, not wanting the attention on you even though it was. Spencer was lucky that he was clueless, not understanding that you are quite literally the butt of the joke. Spencer's words caused a slight reaction in them all, they all knew you did a lot more than sleeping in that 60 year old bed... they all heard it. You could tell they all could, even Rossi who was the very last door in the hall could hear you.

"I know I didn't sleep too well..." Emily added in, looking over at Morgan as she smirked softly. "I kept hearing what sounded like a grunting goat?"

There it was, Spencer's confusion turned to embarrassment as she said those words. He suddenly sunk into his chair, feeling exposed as he now knew he was the butt of the joke.

"No, it was more of an owl who hasn't gone through puberty yet." Garcia joined in, causing everyone to laugh as you and Spencer both grew red.

Hotch was even laughing softly, his eyes peeling away from the file as he looked at you both through his eyebrows. You knew this was going to be a long trip... excruciatingly long and you knew this was only the beginning of the teasing and the jokes. Morgan had now started to make high pitched moaning sounds and Garcia would do it back to him, sounding completely ridiculous but honestly pretty close to what Spencer sounded like... you couldn't hide your laugh as they did them.

"Alright, alright..." You finally said, your face now on fire as you tried to redirect their focus on the case. "I'm sorry you guys are all not getting any... but we really have to focus on the case right now." You joked back, wanting the attention off of you now.

Spencer looked over at you, silently thanking you for attempting to get them to stop. They all continued to laugh, however, laughing even harder at your words. Your embarrassment slightly dissolved as you realized how stupid this entire thing was. You felt stupid for being embarrassed at how good you fuck your boyfriend, how he wasn't able to control his moans when he was with you. Your embarrassment turned to an ego as you looked at it like that.

"Y/N is right..." Hotch joined in, looking back down at his file. "But y/n, If you and Spencer keep me up until 2 am again... you're fired." 

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Me & my hubby!

—When you accidentally introduce your boyfriend as your husband

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Jouno X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: Suggestive content in Dazai's

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: This is very rushed so sorry if its not well written

↳Osamu Dazai

As the door of the fitting room opened, your boyfriend came into sight. The white tuxedo hugged his slim frame perfectly, making his tall figure stand out even more. The color had given him an elegant look, which nearly made you wonder if he was the playful guy you were dating.

Dazai smirked as he picked up on your stun and flashed you a cheeky smirk. "Like what you see, Bella? You're staring a little too hard you know~"

Suddenly the fitting room seemed like the perfect place to show him how much you actually liked his new look. It didn't matter if you made a mess out of the tux, since you were about to buy it anyway.

"Oh Osamu... You should wear white more often"

"Everything alright here?"

The salesclerk was checking up on you with a warm smile.

"Ah yes! We would like to buy this one. It looks gorgeous on my husband"

You didn't exactly pay attention to your words, but seeing Dazai's eyebrows jump in surprise made you question your statement, and...

Oh.

Anxiety washed over you as you weren't exactly unfamiliar with your partner's commitment issues, but much to your surprise, Dazai wasn't upset nor terrified; his huge ass grin was showing off his joy and flatter.

"I'm her husband!"

For god's sake.

The salesclerk on the other hand was looking at you oddly, probably questioning her life choices.

"Ah, ok. Well then would you mind taking the tuxedo off? I'll wrap it up for you"

A snicker left your boyfriend's lips as he pulled you close by your waist. "Sure, but I might need my wife's help to take my clothes off. Will you be kind enough to help me out, Anata?"

"Oh shut up already!"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

One of the benefits of working at the same organization was that when your boyfriend had a mission overseas, you could go with him.

You had just arrived to your hotel after a five hour flight, which made you tired as hell since you couldn't sleep on the airplane. Although that wasn't enough to lessen your excitement for going on what could be some kind of a trip after you finish the job.

"Have you made a reservation beforehand ma'am?"

"No, it was kind of rushed. Would that be a problem?"

The receptionist shook his head to the side. "Not at all. Lucky for you, we still have some rooms available"

The door of the hotel opened and Chuuya came in, approaching you with your luggage in his hand. You looked back at the receptionist. "Great! Then I'd like a room for two people. We're going to be here for a while since my husband needs to take care of some stuff from work; right, honey?"

Chuuya froze in the spot and a light shade of crimson appeared on his cheeks. This was definitely unexpected. It made him feel butterflies in his stomach in a good way and somehow questioned all the logic that made him avoid thinking about the future of your relationship.

"Well your husband doesn't seem to be sure" The receptionist commented in a humorous way. "Alright then, here's your key"

On the way to your room there was a silence that couldn't exactly be marked as "uncomfortable". Chuuya was wearing a warm smile yet so drowned in his thoughts that you refused to take him out of his zone. However, when you reached the door, he suddenly lifted you up, making you suddenly gasp and gaze at him with astonishment.

"What are you doing?"

"What a good husband is supposed to do"

The familiar beam was back on his face.

"I'm carrying my wife to our shared hotel room"

↳Ranpo Edogawa

"Ranpo! You can't eat this whole cake!"

Going to the bakery had become some sort of tradition since you and your boyfriend started dating. You went there every afternoon, tasted the new pastries, you lectured him to not get carried away and he stopped you by shoving a cookie in your mouth. That was pretty much repetitive, except that something extra was coming along today.

"I can and I will. That's why it's called sample y/n" He munched on his cheesecake, delighted by the sweet taste lingering in his mouth.

"Well Mr. detective, It's a sample so you should just take one bite and then move on! If you like it then just buy one!"

The baker chuckled and walked toward you. She knew you since you were regulars there, and she had enough respect for the president to not throw a tantrum over a few pieces of cake. "It's alright Miss y/n. Let the man eat his sweets"

"You don't understand ma'am! My husband eats way too much sweets and that's not healthy at all! What if he comes down with diabetes or something?!"

Ranpo stopped chewing for a brief second and looked at you from the corner of his eye. The lady on the other hand, was more excited than shocked. "You got married? Oh! Congratulations! It's nice to know that Mr. Ranpo has finally settled down!"

You didn't know if you should correct yourself or hide your red cheeks. "I— I meant that— " "Please have some more cake! They're on the house. Consider them a gift from me"

As she left you alone, you finally turned to your boyfriend to see his reaction, which was exactly the way you expected it to be; smug and playful. "Ah, I went into this marriage with so much hope"

"Oh grow up!"

↳Fyodor Dostoevsky

"How's your steak honey?" You asked, looking at your boyfriend with curiosity. He had been taking bites reluctantly, swallowing without actually tasting the meat.

"It's burnt to a crisp, even though I ordered it medium rare" He gently wiped his mouth with the napkin, placing the cutlery on the table. You gave the dish a once over and flagged the waiter down. After a while he approached your table. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

"Yes. My husband ordered his steak medium rare and as you can see, this is not what he asked for"

My... Husband?

"Eh, so... He'd like his steak... Medium rare... Please?" Awkwardness was hitting you and you really didn't want to be alone with Fyodor right now, but unfortunately, you were on a date and there were no way to escape from it.

The waiter excused himself after apologizing and taking the plate back to the kitchen. He did find your sudden change of expression odd, but he didn't say anything since he wasn't asking for less tip. However, Fyodor was completely ready to bring it up. You could tell that based on his grin, but you were doing your best not to face him at that moment.

Not that it was enough to stop him.

"How's your pasta Mrs. Dostoevsky?" "Fedya! Stop!"

↳Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Getting sick on valentine's day was not originally your plan, but at least you got to visit the doctor together. You were now waiting for the secretary to call your names.

"How long should we wait?"

Covering your mouth with a tissue, you lightly coughed. "Anytime now. All the people ahead of us went inside"

Akutagawa glanced at the door of the doctor's office and nodded. He had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant today and was planning to take you to some place nice afterwards, get on one knee and ask you to spend the rest of your life with him, but you suddenly got sick. It's not like he could be mad at you. It was not your fault, but... It seemed like the perfect opportunity. The perfect day for a memorable gesture...

"Mrs. Akutagawa! You're up"

Akutagawa.

She was referring to you, with his last name.

You had introduced yourself as Akutagawa. He was sure you did it accidentally since your face was redder than a tomato now, but still, he never thought hearing it would feel so... special.

The raven-haired man held your hand and leaded you to the doctors office, a ghost of a smile spread on his face. He might've lost the chance to propose now, but it's not the end of the world. You're stuck with him and not going anywhere, so he would try to make the perfect plan for a perfect proposal, for the perfect girl.

↳Saigiku Jouno

"Are you sure this is the store?" Your boyfriend crossed his arms.

"For the thousandth time! Yes!" "Well, you were also sure that you knew my size but it turns out you were wrong" "Ugh! Let's just get inside!"

Thanks to his job, Jouno was always on endless missions and barely had time to rest, let alone go shopping. You this T-shirt when you were walking by and you just couldn't help but to imagine your boyfriend in it. It might've cheered him up if it was his size.

The clerk recognized you the second you set foot in the store. "Oh hi ma'am! Welcome back!"

"Hi Amaya. Thank you. So, remember how I was not sure if the T-shirt was my boyfriend's size?"

She only nodded with a forced smile, because how could she forgot? You spent fifteen minutes staring at the T-shirt, wondering if it would fit him.

"Well, it wasn't" Jouno's smile got wider and you sighed. "Yeah yeah, I admit it. I don't know what size is suitable for my husband. I'm the worst partner ever. Can we please change this one and leave?"

"I don't understand ma'am"

For real? You just can't take a break.

"I'm saying that the T-shirt was too big for him!" "Yeah I got that, but I thought he was your boyfriend?" "What do you mean you— oh!"

No.

No no no no no no no no.

Jouno's smirk was still on, and now with a little smugness. He was clearly enjoying himself.

"If this is your way of proposing, it's really lame" "Oh shut up you big jerk!"

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

Tag List:

@pussydrunkfyodor @silverbladexyz @h8kolya @gettinshiggywithit @exhausted-doll @echo28 @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @circinuus @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani @spiritis-rambles @glitch-karma @ilovechuuyaa

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

[heartofwritiing]

His sweater

paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader (featuring cc!tommy and cc!tubbo)

summary: you and wilbur are in a private relationship and one day while you’re streaming chat recognizes the sweater you’re wearing.

authors note: I wrote this a while back when I was coming back into writing. I'm sorry if its not as good as my usual stuff. the reader is a small streamer but she's close with all the britsh ccs, (bc she lives in the uk) she and wilbur are dating and no one knows not even their friends! but some of them do suspect it! I thought it was cute not sure if it's been done before and I really enjoyed writing it!!

warnings: secret relationship, anxiety attack, fluff, not proofread, and unedited!

It was supposed to be a relaxed stream, chatting and hanging out before Wilbur got home. That’s what it started as. You logged onto Twitch around 7:40 or so, after hanging out with Tommy and the gang for the day. 

Wilbur had gone to his office. He told you to head off without him and said he would be home in an hour or two after he finished editing. That was fine with you. You didn’t mind when he worked late since you didn’t go to bed until around midnight.

No one knew you and Wilbur were together. Like together, together. They thought you were close friends. Not even your friends knew you and sometimes hanging out with them was hard because you wanted to be all

It's not that you were embarrassed by each other. You wanted your privacy and time together to be yours and yours alone. You knew everyone in the group could be eccentric about romantic relationships. You knew deep down they would be happy for you but this was something you and Wilbur agreed to keep secret. For a while at least.

Only a few times have you let it slip when you were out with friends. Everyone knew you two were close so it wasn't that odd to see you being close.

Phill was the only one who knew what was going on. Because once he had caught Wilbur taking your hand in his while you walked side by side. You both completely forgot he was walking right behind you. Separating your hand from Wilbur's when Phill was giving you a knowing glance out of the corner of your eye. Wilbur felt you let go of his hand and he turned to you pouting.

Wilbur got the message completely, seeing Phil smirk back at him. Then, to make matters worse Tommy caught on to Phill being suspicious about something all day. Hence began the young blonde bugging him about what he was all smirking about all day.

Then there were times when you both streamed together. Whether it be at your house or even playing on the SMP, sometimes things would slip out on both your faults.

Like you’ll flirt with each other, or he’ll call you love, or darling. Small things that not everyone can catch onto. Everyone thinks you’re roleplaying anyways but you both know it's not. If you’re on stream you’ll hold your hands under the desk out of view of the webcam. Wilbur would caress your knuckles with his thumb, letting you know he was there. Or you’ll lay your heads on each other’s shoulders during late-night streams when you’re so tired. Little things like that, and of course chat goes nuts for it. 

They think it’s adorable how close you guys are. You love it too. , some people ship you guys but you ignore it, not caring about what they think. It wasn’t anyone's business.

So here you were taking a sip of water from your bottle and as you read the chat a donation came up and it made you perk up.

“Alyssa thank you for the four months!” you read off the donation with a smile. It made you happy that people wanted to stick around with your channel and found it a safe community to fall back on. That was what you wished for.

Your chat was going slow as usual since only about 2,000 or so people were watching. You were comfortable in your little corner.

Your eyes skimmed through the incoming text on your monitor. You froze when you saw a particular statement about your attire.

User: Wait is that Wilbur's sweater?!

You didn’t dare say anything as you tried to shake it off but the comments kept coming in after that faster than before. Everyone seemed to recognize it since he often wore this one in videos. 

You had forgotten Wilbur gave you his sweater sometime early in the night. It wasn’t cold in Brighton during the day, it was warm in the sun. The perfect weather for a band shirt and your favorite pair of comfy pants. But after sunset, you had gotten chilly and Wilbur had offered you his sweater.

You shivered as the chilly wind made goosebumps rise on your arms. You wished you had brought a jacket before going out. You forgot to check the weather and you didn’t think you’d be staying out all day. It was fine, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it.

Wilbur, who is walking with Tommy glances in your direction. Noticing your shivering state with your arms crossed, you failed to warm yourself up.

Without hesitation, Wilbur pulls his yellow jumper over his head and jogs to catch up with you. Holding out his arm with the sweater all bunched up in his hand, he nudged you.

You turn to look at him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of why he was handing you his sweater. He had noticed you were chilly and your stomach grew butterflies.

"You're shivering. I don’t want you to catch a cold."

You felt warm inside. You never thought you’d find the typical romantic gestures appealing but then you met Wilbur. Who proved you wrong. He was always a gentleman. It made you fall in love with him more and more.

You take it gratefully and put it on. The bright yellow contrasted against y/h/c and somehow made your skin glow. It made you look happy somehow, but it could be the fact you were wearing your boyfriend's sweater.  The smell of his cologne faintly lingers on it.

Wilbur blushed and felt a bit dizzy seeing you wearing his clothes sometimes, and now it was the same case. He thought you looked adorable and was glad he could help you be warmer.

“Thanks, Will,” you smiled.

You almost stood on your toes to kiss his cheek but stopped yourself short. You didn’t want the others to see. Wilbur didn’t care. He leaned right over and kissed your head quickly.

"Of course, darling."

You smiled at the memory of two hours ago as the chat was still spamming you with questions. You tried to ignore it so you booted up your saved game of Stardew Valley. Knowing everyone wanted an update on your farm.

As you played you would glance over to your other monitor and notice chat wasn’t letting up about the sweater. It was getting a bit on your nerves since chat was getting a little hectic and you wanted to have a normal stream. Suddenly you heard an alert for Discord on your computer and you perked up like a golden retriever.

“Oh hold on chat, I’m getting a message!” you say opening up Discord on the opposite screen, just in case. Hopefully, someone wants to join you for a game or chat with you for a while. You were optimistic about finding out.

You saw it was from Tubbo. You immediately got excited seeing a notification from one of your closest friends. Your eyes read his message carefully making your heart sink to your stomach.

Tubbo: Hey, Y/N I don’t mean to alarm you but you’re trending on Twitter. I think you should check it out. 

Below his message was a link and you clicked on it hesitantly, assuming the worst you were bracing yourself for. Twitter opened up to reveal a whole thread of posts involving various screenshots. You sat in your desk chair with your messy hair and Wilbur's sweater clinging to your body.

You tried not to show too much emotion on your face while you scrolled. Knowing that all your now 4,000 viewers were watching you with every beat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as all this attention was starting to overwhelm you.

You typed back a reply to Tubbo.

This is bad, right?

You were trying so hard to keep it together, everyone was figuring out your secret. You didn’t want everyone to find out this way, especially not your friends. They deserve better.

No no no, they don’t know what they’re talking about and just ignore it.

Easier said than done tubs.

ik ik

I was watching your stream and I noticed chat being nosey and I could tell you were uncomfortable. Are you okay?

You moved your eyes back to the chat again. It was going even faster now. Your viewer count had gone up even more. Everyone was asking why you were being so quiet all of a sudden. You apologized to everyone before returning to your chat screen with Tubbo.

“I'm sorry guys just message my friend real quick.”

Yeah.

Listen y/n if it's true or not I’m happy for you either way.

I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

Don’t be. It’s not your fault.

Does anyone else in the group know?

Just me. And technically Ranboo but he hasn’t figured it out.

You giggled at that.

You were so enthralled talking with Tubbo that you didn’t even hear the front door open. Will was home, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his flat keys.

You typed to Tubbo that you were going to end the stream. Make up some excuse that you were too tired but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. That’s when Wilbur snuck up behind you and leaned down so that he could wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Chat went even crazy. Spelling his name in all caps. Chaos. Absolute chaos.

You instantly froze at the contact and stayed like that for a good solid couple of seconds in shock. The smirk on Wilbur's lips was still prominent, but what he did next stunned you more than you already were.

Wilbur leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek tenderly. His lips lingered on your skin. Burning. You always felt this way when he kissed you. It was sweet and brief. You could feel his breath across your skin when he pulled away. Like it wasn't a big deal that he simply kissed you in front of thousands of people. Looked up at your monitor and smirked when he saw your chat going ballistic.

“Oh are you streaming?” he asked. Of course, he knew you were streaming, and yes he did see the tag trending. Tubbo had messaged him as well and Wilbur thought now was the best time to reveal. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours. So he hatched a scheme in his head to surprise you by coming home while you were still streaming. So, you were in shock that your boyfriend had come in and kissed your cheek on camera. In front of your viewers.

You were a bit mad at him at the moment. Then you saw how cute he looked with his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the chaos issue from his work.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh darling?” he hummed into your ear softly.

It made you flustered when you felt his lips brush your ear. 

“Now everyone knows you're mine.”

Your heart was beating a million miles per second. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You were so relieved and yet kinda annoyed with Wilbur at the same time for sneaking up on you. You wanted to swipe that cheeky grin off his face. He could be such a smart ass sometimes, but you love him for it. 

Now would be a good time to end this. You thought as you cleared your throat and kept your eyes on the chat log.

"Well, that's enough for me tonight, goodnight.” You finally say quickly, coming out of your flustered state.

"Bye chat,” Wilbur waves.

As soon as the outro screen came on you logged out of Twitch. Immediately, you lay your face in your hands and began crying. Wilbur grew concerned.

"Y/N?" He spun your chair around to face him. He got down to his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your arms. Your heart was beating in your ears, pounding as the situation became too much. Hitting that end stream button brought a sense of relief now that you could finally take it all in. Everyone knew. There was no going back from this. You were so sure that you'd never get a break from the constant questions and judgment that come with being a content creator. 

Besides you on the table, your phone was going off like crazy, vibrating and shaking with alerts. You lifted your head to stare at it in fright. Wilbur detected your uneasiness immediately and grabbed your phone to shut it off completely before turning his attention back to you. 

He brings his hand up to tuck strands of your hair out of your face and behind your ears. You try your best to begin a breathing exercise to calm yourself down. 

Inhale through the nose. 

Exhale out of the mouth 

Wilbur's touch begins to calm your racing mind and heart. His voice anchors you back to the surface of your deepest thoughts. 

Breath. Just breathe. 

“That's it, in and out." 

When you finally get your breathing down to somewhat normal and you surpass a panic attack. Wilbur doesn't say anything. Just holding you until you’re ready.

“I'm sorry,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in shame. Tears flow out again as Wilbur shushes you. 

“Don’t be sorry, don't." He chastised.

“It was just a lot.” You sniffled. 

“I know, but it's going to be okay, you know why?” 

You shake your head from side to side. 

“Because I love you so much, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It’s you and me,” he reassured. 

You smile tearfully. “I love you too.” 

The rest of the night you are spent curled up next to Wilbur, your phones turned off to enjoy some time together away from the internet. The sudden sound of your PC exploding with the sound of the discord call ringtone has you groaning and pausing the movie you both were watching. You had forgotten to shut it down during the chaos. Wilbur goes over to your monitor to turn it off but sees it's Tommy calling. Reluctantly he answers and the room is filled with the teen's loud voice. 

“Why didn't you guys tell me!” he shouted, his voice breaking up through the speakers due to his loudness. 

“Hello to you too Tommy,” Wilbur spoke. 

“Wilbur! I never thought you’d get any women!” 

Wilbur glared over at you as you burst into laughter. It was clear that Tommy was surprised and happy for you both but he was also being his obnoxious self. 

“Alright Im hanging up now,” Wilbur says. 

“No, no!” he laughed. “Im genuinely really happy for you two,” 

“Thanks, toms!” you shouted from your spot on the couch. 

“Thank you Y/N!!” Tommy exclaims. ”See Wilbur, at least someone appreciates my remorseful attitude,” 

Wilbur rolls his eyes and ends the call, shutting down your pc so no one else could bother you. You laughed as he made his way back over to you on the sofa so you could continue your movie. Wilbur was likely going to try and protect you from being bombarded by your friends too much if you decided tomorrow that you'd talk to everyone, You were nervous to face them but you would know that nothing was going to change that your friends supported you. 

[bigification]

Jealousy Jealousy

Strong, loyal, dedicated. All words used by the boss to describe me, and every word seemed like a knife in the back of my roommate. I can hear it in the way he talks to me, ever since I joined the military all he ever seems to be is jealous. I've always been stronger and more dedicated than him, he's smarter but that doesn't even matter that much.

The walk back to our room is awkward. It is completely silent and I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. I wanted so badly to be friends with him, but he makes it impossible. I've always worked out and kept my body in good shape, and apparently that's unforgivable to him.

We get back to our room and he immediately goes rummaging through his stuff. I pace back and forth, debating whether I should talk to him. It's hard living with him and I just want things to be civil between us.

"Hey man, I wanted to ta-" I'm interrupted when he quickly swings around and jabs something into my stomach. I look down and see a needle sticking into the side of my stomach. I feel frozen with fear, I can't talk, almost as if there is something stuck in my throat. I let out a groan as he pushes the end of the needle, injecting a green liquid into my body.

"I'm tired of being in your shadow, let's see how long you'll last after this." He monologues like some cartoon villain. What does he even mean by that, was that some kind of poison? Is he killing me just because the boss likes me more.

I stumble back against the wall, I feel weak but it hurts less than I thought it would. Although my stomach feels like it's boiling.

Am I dreaming... It feels more like a nightmare. But it must be a nightmare. I see a lump form under my shirt, and it seems to grow every time I blink. It can't be real, but it feels so real. The lump grows until it looks like I have a little belly. Do I have a belly? It's growing faster and faster until my shirt becomes untucked. It finally stops after growing into a sizable beer belly, making it impossible for me to see my feet. Maybe he gave me drugs, maybe this is just a bad trip. But it feels so real.

It doesn't end with the beer belly. Next my pecs start to swell. Something I worked so hard on is gone in seconds. I see them soften into a pair of man tits, growing until they press against my shirt. I always swore I would never let myself go like my father did, but I guess that's a lie. At least it took him until his thirties to get fat, I can't even make it to my late twenties without pigging out.

I still have no idea what's happening to me. It's getting harder and harder to think. I was thinking about... Something about pigging out. It must be because I love pigging out, that's how I got this belly.

As I'm trying to think, my body continues to grow. I hear the button on my pants pop off and feel the pressure release. I think my ass is growing, not that I mind. I feel my body being pushed further and further away from the wall as fat spilled into my ass.

Why does my crotch feel so tight? I could have sworn it didn't feel this tight a moment ago. I don't really care anyway, I can't even remember why I should care.

My pants strain against the fat filling my legs, I think I can even hear some rips tearing through them. My arms follow suit, softening up my defined muscles and fattening up my hands. Better off that way if you ask me, fatter hands means better belly rubs, and I like belly rubs.

I feel an itchiness engulf my body as a thick pelt of hair covers my skin. My arms, my legs, my chest, and most importantly my belly become a forest of sweaty hair.

My body finally relaxed and I let out a loud burp. Oh... I'm so hungry. I rub my belly trying to get any relief. It's all I can think of. Wasn't I stressed about something? What would I have been stressed about, maybe I was just hungry.

"How ya feeling big guy?" My roommate asks me.

"I'm so hungry." I cry out.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a diet?" He teases me.

"Why the fuck would I be on a diet. This is the mark of a true man!" I say as I slap my gut.

"Well I'm sure this box of donuts won't hurt your fitness assessment next week, and they won't eat themselves." He pulls out a dozen donuts. It feels like I lose control of my body as I instinctively ravage the donuts.

I lean back after finishing off the last donut and let out a loud burp. God I'm stuffed, but I want so much more. I rub my belly, trying to process the snack I just had, so I can make room for more.

"There's plenty more where that came from, big guy."

Credits to bulkgainer92 for the video and for inspiring this story.

[jadeddangel]

I saw that u write poly stuff and my mind was inspired, maybe u could write something where adam and lute comfort reader because something happened and even a bit suggestive if u want:))

EEEE IM SO HAPPY I INSPIRED YOU!!

Lute x reader x Adam

"It's gonna be ok, beautiful"

Warnings: None

Art isn't mine and belongs to @.D4gm4rs on twt

The bed was cold even though it seemed like Adam and lute had left hours ago ,although it had only been 30 minutes. It was your day off.. you had finally gotten a break from everything. You were tired of souls coming to you for help for all these things that you couldn't possibly help with. The worst part of all, though was there was this angel that wouldn't leave you alone, he had been pretty much stalking you. He was trying to get you to go on dates to try and get you to hang out with him.

You were hesitant to tell Adam and lute scared Adam would over react and that lute wouldn't leave your side; you can imagine how surprised you were when they just gave you some love and left for work. And so here you were, alone, still laying in bed, you just wanted to sleep and stay here forever..

You must've fallen asleep cause when you woke up it was almost dark. With a sigh, you got up, tugging out of the bedroom and going to the kitchen to get dinner ready. You paused seeing that there was already a bag of food on the counter.. it was your favorite, and it even had your favorite drink.. you heard the tv running in the living room. You smiled and walked to the living room seeing 2 familiar tuffs of brown and white grey hair. You reached over and covered Adam's eyes from behind him. "Guess who?" You snickered a bit. Adam hummed a bit. "Is itttt my pretty girl?" Adam guessed, tilting his head up towards the ceiling so you could see his smile. You giggled and leaned down, giving him a kiss. "mhm.." You hummed against his hips. You pulled away brushing his hair back out of his face, you tilted your head to face lute, "there's my pretty girl" you mused leaning closer to her and giving her an Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead. Lute smiled a bit. "Hi there, baby.. how was your day?" She asked sweetly. You climbed over the back of the couch to plop in between them. "It was as good as it could get with me sleeping all day" you laughed a bit. Lute played with your hair absent-mindedly while Adam tugged at the baggy pajama pants you were wearing. "You know I really like this color on you but maybe we should just take it off hm?" Adam hummed slowly slithering his hands up your thighs til he was holding onto the waist band of the pants. "Adam I will literally never make you ribs again if you take those off" you said curtly opening your eyes a bit to give him a glare. Adam huffed and pulled his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler. You sighed a bit but decided not to deal with it, "Adam will you get the bag of food? Please? I'll give you head in the morning I promise" you bribed knowing he was going to fight you if you didn't offer. Before you could even finish the word head Adam was already up and grabbing the bag excitedly, "deal!", Adam even went the extra fucking mile and started making your plate for you while watching the movie that was barely getting any attention.

The night was relaxing, you and lute took a bath together cause Adam couldn't be trusted not to start something. Then it was onto dessert, another movie and cuddles. As promised in the morning before work you gave Adam head before he left. And you know what maybe it was good luck cause that day wasn't half bad.

You didnt know what happened(Adam and lute beat the shit out of the guy and talked to your boss about easing up on you) but that didn't matter and as long as everything kept going well it was always gonna be a good day.

[rboooks]

The Adoptive Son. Part 2

Dick tries his best to keep his smile as Danny Crowne fumbles with his laptop, attempting to show Dick all the fantastic features he programmed onto it.

Don't be wrong; he enjoys new software, and the stuff Crowne made was awe-inspiring. He just wished it wasn't being used for one of his most disgusting crimes.

Babs, who was recently super into coding, had been all but foaming at the mouth when she got access to the new writing application Crowne Industries put out.

Yes, she got access a bit earlier than most since she hacked into the system attempting to find evidence of criminal activity, but she had tested it out and wanted it for herself.

"This writing program has an automatic save option after a certain amount of time goes by." Crowne blushes a little, looking bashful when Dick sends him a winning smile. "I-ugh, I forget how often computers crash, taking with them hours of work, so hopefully, this will help tired college students. It even has a way to retrieve lost files, just in case something does get deleted."

"Wow, you made all this by yourself? That's so impressive." Dick purrs, allowing his hand to land on Crowne's knee. The other man jumps slightly, looking down at the hand like he's never seen one before. At least this mission was easy.

Crowne's had plenty of people flirt with him over the years of his adoption. Dick had watched him at galas, sidestepping any courtship attempts like a well-practiced waltz. He charmed so many would-be suitors simply by his prince-like mannerism, silver tongue, dripping good looks, and of course, very large wallet.

He had thought it meant that Crowne was experienced in this sort of thing. Imagine his surprise at the beginning of the mission; Crowne fumbled through his flirtations and seemed so awkward it was almost endearing.

Danny Crowne didn't make much sense to Dick in this way.

He quickly became one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors and one of the first openly bisexual ones. Despite his adoptive parents less than ideal views on the gay community, Crowne never hid that part of himself. Once he had taken over the company, he had even gotten charities set up to support the gay youths of Gothams. He practically funded the Pride Celebrations, even more than Bruce, which showed how he became the new head of Crowne Industries

In four short years, he had snatched the company from the jaws of bankruptcy and dragged it to the top again. Everything they made was so revolutionary, even Bruce had been tempted to ask Crowne to join him for the first two years.

Back then, Dick had thought Crowne was weird.

All the guy did was talk about tech, and when he wasn't, he was staring into space or attempting to get into different equipment so he could take it apart and figure it out.

Crowne had been invited to his birthday party a few months after his adoption. Dick had seen him arrive, but he vanished from the room not long after- at the time, he didn't blame the other. The rest of their classmates were snobbish and a pain to be around- he later found Crowne pulling out one of his light sockets to check the wiring in Bruce's house.

It may have been the cheap light he was using, but Dick swore he had seen the guy's eyes glowing while he muttered to himself in an unknown language.

The Crownes had been mortified, forcing Crowne to apologize profoundly for ripping Bruce's things. Bruce had to play his part of Brucie, so he had laughed it off, asking the boy why he had done it in the first place.

" I meant no offense. I apologize for allowing my curiosity to cross a line. I was only interested in how advanced your home is. I figured the Wayne's would indicate where the world's leading systems would be." Fourteen-year-old Danny Crowne had told Bruce with a sweet smile that was far too wide and eyes that were far too bright.

It creeped fourteen-year-old Dick out so much he actively avoided the adoptive son of the Crowne for the last four years.

Now he wishes he had paid a little more attention. Maybe then he would have caught on to Crowne selling street kids on the black market.

"It's nothing, really." Crowne laughs nervously, flushing read as Dick gently rubs his knee. He smirks inwardly as the other man fumbles. "I couldn't have done it without Tim so-"

"Tim?" That's a new name. Dick quickly pressed the recording device that Bruce had installed into his bracelet. He hated that he was working with his ex-mentor again, but this was too big of an issue to allow his hurt feelings to get in the way. There were so many kids at stake.

"Tim Drake. His parents are out of the country a lot, so I started babysitting him when he was eight. He's thirteen now, but I got temporary guardianship of him when I turned eighteen. He's my pride and joy. " Crowne clarifies with a growing smile. Dick wanted to punch his teeth in for acting so loving, so caring, so fucking kind when it came to children.

He swallows the urge with incredible difficulty. "He sounds great."

He did know Timothy Drake, actually. The boy was his neighbor for years but didn't stand out much. He always looked like a little doll at the galas, vanishing from sight once his parents' backs were turned.

Dick often thought the boy was out of the country with his parents, primarily when they enrolled him in homeschool when he turned eight.

To think the Drakes were working on making a good relationship with Crowne since he first showed up, and no one within the Bats noticed. It was a little troubling.

Were the Drakes involved with the trafficking ring? Were the world trips just a means to smother out poor victims? Were they using their son, or was Tim Drake part of the scheme?

More questions and not enough answers.

"Y-you could meet him if you want," Crowne coughs, playing with a specialized keyboard- it was so flat. Dick had never seen a slimmer design- his face was a lovely red hue. "I have him for this month, so he's back at my apartment with his babysitter."

Perfect an opening.

"Mr. Crowne, are you inviting me back to yours?" Dick asks, allowing his voice to turn husky with sinful promise.

Crowne face turns even redder. "I didn't mean to assume, but...ugh, are you hitting on me?"

Dick almost laughs.

"I am." He says even as he thinks If only you weren't a scum bag. You are not ever going to get this lucky, you disgusting pig.

"Thank the Ancients. I was worried I may have interpreted your intentions. I would be honored if you accompanied me home-but, not for sex! I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to sex at a later date-just dinner? I can cook." Crowne closes his eyes as if pained, and Dick wishes he was the person he was pretending to be.

Oh well.

They all have their own masks.

Dick just happens to be someone who was bestowed with a criminal. He slips it on as quickly as his NightWing one, throwing an arm over Crowne and placing a tracker on his neck. The bastard didn't even notice. Good.

"I would love that Crowne."

"Danny." The man says with a warm relieved smile. "You can call me Danny."

"Then you can call me Dick"

Dick will have this man rotting away in a jail cell soon. He swears it.

(Part 1) (part 3)

[lovelybrooke]

Yandere Spiderman Across the Spiderverse x reader Concept

I really, really loved this movie and I'm super excited to write for it. I'm kinda sad this was only part 1, but it was great either way. On another note, I've seen the requests for this movie, and I will be writing those, so be patient with me. Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoy, and please request if you want to see more. (This is also not going to be 100% canon, sorry).

Life is super boring, at least that's how you viewed it. Everything was pretty monotonous, you wake up, go to school, go to work, go home, do homework, eat, sleep, and repeat. It's not even like it was bad, it's just, tiring.

This was until you meant Peter Parker. At the time, you thought there was nobody else like him, how stupid were you, right? You met when you two were paired up for a project at school, and eventually, after a little encouragement and time, you two became best friends.

Of course, at the time, you knew about Spiderman, New York's friendly neighborhood hero, but you never thought it was Peter. When he told you, you honestly thought he was joking, laughing at him as he tried to be open with you. After a long, long talk, you eventually came to terms with your friend's responsibility.

Everything was pretty good for a while, and you eventually even started helping Peter out on his little hero escapades. You weren't as courageous as him, so you ended up becoming his "guy in the chair", you didn't come up with the name. Your knowledge in technology allowed you to stay back and help him on missions from the safety of your home. You'd notify him whenever there was a villain in the area, hack into surveillance cameras to make sure he wasn't being seen by the police, and even made some upgrades to him suit to make him even stronger.

Everything was great, until the death of Peter's Uncle Ben. He meant everything to Peter, so when he died, Peter just, stopped talking to you for a while, it's like he just completely shut down. You tried to get a hold of him, but it was basically impossible. His aunt May never knew where he was, and you couldn't track his suit, so for a while, he was just a ghost.

When he did finally show up again, he was different. He used to be extroverted, happy and bubbly. But when he returned after months of silence, he was cold and distant. You could tell something was off with him, and the fact that you couldn't track his suit put you off. You knew he was okay with the tracker so you could contact him in case of emergencies, so then why was it suddenly not working?

For the short time Peter was back, he barely talked to you, and when he did, he was muttering something about someone trying to get him, which you assumed was because he was so out of it after coming back. When you tried to ask about it, he rambled something about the multiverse, before quickly shutting up. You never got the chance to ask him about it, because the next day he was gone, again. And you haven't seen him since.

And that's how you're back to your supper boring life. It was sad that your best and only friend was gone, Aunt May was devastated. Most of your time was spent trying to find him, using all the knowledge you had to find any trace of him. You assumed that his disappearance had something to do with the metaverse nonsense he was muttering about, but everything you found led to a dead end.

You were about to give up when a strange portal appeared into your room. It started out small, before quickly overtaking most your room, sucking you and some of your stuff in with it. It was a terrifying few seconds before you stopped moving, your butt hitting the floor. When you opened your eyes, you quickly figured out you were in some strange new place. Even though the room you were in was dark, you could tell it was super high tech, computers and wires everywhere.

It took you a while to stand up, disoriented as you were. As you stood up, a few lights turned up. Not enough lights to make you feel less nervous, but enough to see who was in the room with you. The man was tall, towering over you on his hovering platform, his back towards you. You didn't want to say anything, afraid of the man in front of you.

"You're digging to deep, (Y/N)." He said, his head tilting toward you, only a part of his face visible.

"Who are you?" You murmur, "why am I here?" you question.

"Don't worry, I'm doing this for your own good." What does that mean? His platform eventually reaches the ground, allowing him to walk close to you. Despite his intimidating demeanor, you felt a sense of comfort around him, which almost caused you to let your guard down. Slowly, the man brought his hand close to your head, brushing a small strand of hair out of your face. "I'm Miguel O'Hara, Earth-928's Spiderman."

You started to panic at that, this must be the Multiverse Peter was talking about. You took a step back from Miguel, the room around you becoming tense once again. You shake your head, giving Miguel a confused look, "So, the Multiverse is real? There's more than one Spiderman?" Miguel takes a slow step forward, eying you carefully.

"Yes." That doesn't really answer your question, but he continues, "and it's my job to make sure the multiverse stays stable." You look at the ground, suppressing tears, is that why Peter is gone? You stay quiet, prompting Miguel to continue, "that's why I need your help." Shocked, you looked at him, Miguel getting closer and closer to you. "With your skills, you can help a lot of people." You didn't know how to respond, simply looking at him with tear feared eyes. When Miguel wrapped you up in a tight hug, your fears for Peter were confirmed, he was gone.

---

Ever since, you've been working for Spider society. You mostly stayed with Miguel, seeing him a sort of father figure, even though you would never tell him that. Miguel gave you a room close to his, a room you barely even left, why would you when all your computers and tech is in there.

Miguel was protective of you the moment he met you, met being a strong word since you didn't know about him. You were just so kind and happy; he was almost jealous of your earths Spiderman. He never planned on killing him, especially since he knew what it would do to your dimension, but you were safer with him anyway.

He hated when you started becoming friends with the other Spider people, mainly the ones closer to you in age. He knew you were shy, but that also meant people would take advantage of you. It's why he didn't mind you staying in your room, he could keep watch of you there better anyway.

Gwen was fine, since for the most part she wasn't a troublemaker. She was the one to make sure you were eating, which Miguel was appreciative of. She would also bring in movies from her dimension for you to watch. Pavitr wasn't that bad, though he did like to push you out of your comfort zone a lot, but always knew when you were uncomfortable. Hobie was a different story, he was like a big brother to you, and would do your makeup and teach you how to play different instruments. Though, he always managed to get you caught up in all his little scheming, which does not make Miguel happy. When Miles eventually starts showing up, he also becomes one of your close friends, often hanging out with you and Gwen.

Most of the Spiders were pretty aware of their obsession with you, some of them more conscious of their behavior than others, but they see it as their job to protect you. You're one of the few non spiders welcomed into Spider society, of course your important to them. They've all lost so much; they couldn't lose you too. None of them are afraid of using their trauma against you to make you forget about your dimension and your Peter.

For most of them, you're the only peace they have. When they come back from a long mission, they just want to be with you, because you're the only constant in their lives. You're probably the only thing keeping Miguel from losing his mind, he just wants to keep you safe. They all just want to keep you safe.

It's why Miguel doesn't let you leave HQ; it's why he encourages you to call him dad. It's why Gwen will subtly remind you about the death of her best friend and how she couldn't handle losing you as well. It's why Hobie and Pavitr get upset when you mention anything from your dimension. Its why Miles can't stand being away from you for more than a week. You understand, don't you?

---

A/n: I don't know how to feel about this but I'm happy it's out. I know I didn't get into Jessica or Peter B Parker, but I hope you guys like this. I have a lot of ideas for this, and I will not be shutting up about Spiderman anytime soon. Please, please, please request. Thank you!!!

[itslixtoyou]

Revenge

Miguel O’Hara x fem reader

Fic type - NSFW/smut (Minors dni)❗️

Warnings - Miguel is possessive, oral sex, semi-public sex because there’s someone in the next room, Miguel is a little forceful, p in v sex, lmk if I missed any.

Summary - You tell Miguel about the guy who’s been flirting with you at work, so he invites him over to clarify how he feels of this man’s pathetic behavior; but not with his words. ;p

Word count - 1,800 words

Note - This is kind of short and sweet, I wrote it while I was in a mood lol.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Miguel’s voice sounded tired as he walked inside, one hand holding his phone up to his ear while the other closed the front door; locking it as well.

You glanced up to look at him from where you were sitting on the couch. He gave you a small grin while he made his way through the house, continuing his conversation as he set his stuff down on the floor next to you.

“Alright, thank you sir.” He spoke, placing his hand behind his neck. “Okay, I’ll let you know in the morning.” He glanced at you with his eyes strained, silently complaining about how he wished the call would end already.

Fortunately for him, his pleas were answered.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodbye.” He ended the call, sighing heavily afterward.

“Sorry, Cariño.” He smiled as he walked toward you, planting a kiss to the top of your head and taking a seat next to you on the sofa. “How did your meeting go?”

“It was good,” You motioned for him to lay his head on your lap; which he happily complied with. “It wasn’t as long this time so I got to leave early.” You started explaining, feeling him rest against your thighs.

“That’s good.” He slowly began circling your leg with his thumb, nuzzling his face against your soft skin.

“So, when I got there...” As you continued with your full report of the meeting, Miguel quickly began to tune you out. He didn’t mean to ignore you of course, but the minute you placed your fingers in his hair and began gently scratching at his scalp, he knew he couldn’t resist falling into his trance.

He closed his eyes to listen, not necessarily to the words you were blurting out, but to the sound of your voice.

What were you saying? Something about a co-worker? He didn’t care that much, all he was concerned with now was that soothing tone of yours and how it seemed to calm him, relaxing him after the stressful day he’s had.

“Mhmm,” he faked a response, reveling in your touch as you eagerly ranted on.

Coming home was always his favorite part of the day and the reason for that was right here, letting him rest on her lap. It was occasions like this that he enjoyed the most, fragments of time where he didn’t have to worry about a single thing. Though he had no clue as to the words you were speaking, his heart grew warm nonetheless.

That is, he wasn't listening, until something you said suddenly grabbed his attention.

“Wait what?” He quickly got up from your lap. “Say that again?”

“He asked me to have dinner with him.” You repeated your last sentence.

“Who did?!” He asked urgently.

“That new guy I was telling you about the other day. Apparently he didn’t know I was married.” You giggled at the miscommunication, however, your husband didn’t share in your giddiness.

Miguel was furious. He knew who this guy was. He’d been flirting with you from the day he got hired, but now he’d clearly decided to take it up a knotch.

How the hell could he not know you're married?! Did he not see the ring on your finger?

That’s when Miguel paused, remembering you hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring the past few days because you had to get it re-sized.

That must’ve been it! That must be the reason that little weasel thought he had a chance.

Since you were too preoccupied with your job, you didn’t talk much about your husband while at work anyways. If you did, it would’ve been with the employees you were close with, not someone you just met like this annoying new guy.

You probably hadn’t even talked about Miguel yet around him, and that’s why he thought he could creep his way into this marriage.

“What’d you tell him?”

You chuckled at his question; assuming you’d ever say anything besides “no.”

“I told him I have a husband obviously.”

Your hand swatted his shoulder lightly, telling him to knock it off with the newfound jealousy he was clearly feeling.

Except it wasn’t jealously he was experiencing, it was possession.

How dare this man pretend he even had the smallest chance with a woman like you, or that he could so easily replace the man you called your husband.

He shouldn’t even have the privilege to look your way, much less have the audacity to think you’d be interested in a bum like him.

This man was already an annoynace in your husband’s eyes, but now he crossed the line. And now he’d pay for it.

“Why don’t you invite him over for dinner?”

Your nose scrunched at his suggestion. “What?! Why?”

Miguel quickly leaned in to place a tender kiss to your cheek, pretending to have changed his attitude. “Just so he knows for sure that you’re married. Plus, we can set him up with one of the more desperate ladies in the office.”

You were confused at first. Why would Miguel want to have him over for dinner, he clearly despised the man? But while your husband placed a second kiss to your cheek, whispering about how “he’s got this” and “it’ll be fine,” you figured there was nothing to worry about.

After all, it’s just a dinner, nothing too terrible should come from it, right?

WRONG.

When your husband first asked you to leave the dinner table and follow him to the bedroom because he “needed help with something,” it’s safe to say you didn’t expect him to start making advances on you.

“Miggy!” You squealed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, assuming his position on top and trapping you beneath him. “What are you doing? We can’t do this now!”

“We’re doing it.” He answered with a stern tone, wasting no time in stripping you of the clothes that covered you.

He took a second to pause afterward, admiring your glorious body beneath him. He smirked gently at the sight, knowing this was a view only he had the privilege of seeing.

That little pervert still sitting at the kitchen table could never dream of observing something like this. Your figure was a work of art to put it lightly, every heavenly curve of your outline was nothing short of breathtaking.

And it was all Miguel’s.

He quickly adjusted his stance, spreading your legs widely and lowering his mouth to your cunt.

“Wait Miguel-”

“Hush querido,” he shushed you, leaning forward to spread you open and begin his revenge.

You tired to protest. It was beyond unsuitable to be doing this when your co-worker was unknowingly sitting in the room right next to you both. What if he heard?!

But you see, that’s exactly why your husband was doing this; He wanted him to hear. He wanted to prove to that filthy little urchin that he never had a chance with someone as astonishing as you.

That imbecile could never treasure you the way Miguel did, he’d never know how to make your back arch and your fingers tighten around the sheets the way Miguel does.

He’d barely even started, but just his tongue was enough to have your eyes rolling back and your lips spreading to moan his name. So much for trying to stop him.

You did try at least, but once he started lapping at you just the way he knew you liked it, your self control was all but gone.

Miguel knew every movement that made you shudder, every flick of his tongue that made your thighs squeeze against his head. He especially knew how much your pussy loved the feel of his cock plunged inisde you, how your eyes would well up with tears when he hit that sweet spot just right.

Miguel knew all these things that no one else did, especially not the man who was eating at his dinning table. The one who stupidly thought he could even come close to measuring up to your husband.

“Miguel! Nghh!” You moaned, trying to catch your breath as your husband reletnelesly paced inside you.

“Louder!” He demanded, making his thrusts deeper so you’d obey. “Louder hermosa, I want him to hear your voice.”

He gritted his teeth, grasping your thighs so he could nuzzle himself deeper inside you. Which quickly sent you over the edge.

“Ugh! Fuck!” Your legs trembled at his touch, feeling the way he was drinking you in; completing you.

“That feel good?” He cooed, placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Who makes you feel this good, huh? Anyone else?”

You shook your head as a reply, but he didn’t like that answer.

“Say it! Who makes you feel this good? Anyone else?”

He repositioned himself, leaning backwards for a little head start before he slammed back inside you.

“Agh!” Your walls quickly clamped down on him, a blissful sensation washing over you in the process. “No- ugh!.. No one else Miguel- ahh.. only- o-only you!”

Your sentences were slurred and your breathing staggered. You were struggling to speak the words he commanded, but you got there eventually.

“That’s right. No one but me!” He boasted loudly, thrusting for the last time before he decided enough was enough and laid against your bare chest.

With how loud those sweet moans of yours were, there was no doubt that pathetic excuse of a man in the other room heard it. Miguel had made his point. He’d shown what a real man is capable of when it comes to pleasuring a woman the right way. He proved just how insignificant that little moron was. Also how idiotic he was for ever thinking he could even breathe your direction without compensation for it.

Looks like your new co-worker will be finding a job elsewhere, especially after the way he scurried out the front door once the two of you finally came back to that forgotten dinning table.

“No its fine, I just forgot I had plans! I should be going now!” The cretin was stuttering out excuses like there was no tomorrow. Going on about how he had a “family emergency” he had to get to immediately.

And Miguel had the greatest pleasure of hearing from you about how your little friend had decided to quit his new job unexpectedly the next day.

How odd. I wonder what made him decide something so suddenly?

Oh well, what a shame.