#I was scavenging in one of the closets there

[evie-sturns]

needed this - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a month-long business trip, you finally return home to your boyfriend matt. you find out he hasn't came since you left, obviously you have to help him.

warnings: smut, very sub!matt, overstimulating, swearing.

-------------------°°••....••°°--------------------

i've been away with work for just over a month, meaning matt's had the house to himself, i'm finally arriving home this evening.

7:54pm

i twist the key into the white door, pushing it open. the scent i'm so used to filling my nose. "matt!" i call out, placing my bag down by the front door and bending over to unstrap my heels.

"i missed you." he says with a grin, speed walking up to me and wrapping his arms around me. i bury my face into his chest, "how was it?" he asks with a wide smile.

"it was good! how was the empty house?" i say, grabbing matts hand and dragging him upstairs.

"lonley as shit without chris and matt aswell, they've been filming with other creators for ages." matt says with a sigh as we walk into our shared bedroom.

"oh yeah, i saw that tara and shit meetup with them" i say, pulling my minidress off over my head.

i can feel matts eyes laying on me as i scavenge through our closet for anything comfier to wear, giving i've been in dresses for 5 weeks straight.

matt clears his throat, "movie?"

i nod, "yeah, yeah just pick whatever you want sweetheart."

matt flicks on the tv at the end of our bed, i unclasp my bra, letting it fall to my feet. i grab one one matts shirt, pulling it down past my head,

i jump into bed beside matt, my leg resting across his waist and lap as i cuddle to his side. the netflix intro blares through the room

"jesus christ!!" i laugh, grabbing the remote and turning down the volume. "my bad." matt says with a smile, shaking his head and pulling up the white fuzzy blanket over us.

-

8:23pm

i shift the leg which is laying across him, i feel matt grow tense under me, "you okay?" i whisper, looking up at him. "yeah- no yeah- yeah no i'm good." matt stammers, i laugh slightly,

"matt whats wrong?" i say with a giggle, "no- no yeah, shit i'm fine." he says again, his cheeks a deep red as he fidgets with his rings.

"matt." i say with a serious tone. "stop!- i'm fine!" he says, getting worked up.

i sit up in bed abrubtly, the blanket falling off my body, i look down at matts crotch,

hes hard.

he yanks the blanket up over his lap, i pull it back down and straddle his thighs, staring into his eyes. "why are you hard?" i ask quietly, "i'm not!" he instantly replies, his eyes drifting away from mine.

i palm him through his sweatpants, squeezing lightly, he lets out a breathless groan. "so.. what was that?" i tease him,

"i dont know? just your leg moving.." matt says, rubbing his eyes with his fists,

"you got hard from my leg?" i laugh slightly, he nods.

"thats okay." i assure him, reaching for his waistband and toying with it, his breathing intensifies quickly, "why are you so sensitive?" i ask, "just been different since you left a month ago" matt says quietly

"different like how?" i push,

"haven't- you know.." he sighs, "i don't know actually." i reply cheekily.

he doesn't reply, his eyes fixed on my hand which is resting just under his waistband. "tell me the last time you touched yourself" i say, matt goes redder somehow.

"month ago." he says, barely audible "thats okay." i say, tugging his waistband down. "please.." matt whines slightly, "i know." i say, pulling his waistband down to his mid-thighs.

"you want this?" i ask, lifting my self off his thighs to pull my panties off, "jesus, obviously." he says, i shoot him a 'watch your tone' look and he instantly goes quiet.

i sit up, hovering myself above matts tip, which is now red. his hands stay by his sides, i'm 95% sure his brain is so fogged he doesn;t know what to do with them anymore.

i grab his cold hands, placing them on my waist. i stay sitting above his tip for a few more seconds, its tempting to see how worked up i can get matt. he trys to guide me down, but i resist.

"please." he says, "matthew, stop whining and tell me what the fuck you want." i say, "please, you know what i want" matt says shyly, i stay still, waiting for him to practically beg.

"ride me, please?" he breathes out, i can see his stomach jolting up and down from his desperate breaths underneath his white sweater.

i nod, moving my hair to one side and slowly sinking onto matt, he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands dropping from my waist and balling up the white fuzzy blanket. i slowly take more of his length before bottoming out, sitting comfortably on his dick as matt lets out small whimpers

"you alright?" i ask, grabbing his hand which is squeezing the sheets.

he nods his head, "look at me, matt." i say, he opens his eyes, letting in small breaths. "calm. down." i say, he nods again as his top teeth sink into his pink bottom lip.

i slowly start to bounce on him, his eyes stay fixed on me as i quicken my pace. i throw my head back as i balance my hands on his thighs behind me.

"close- really close." matt squeezes out, "no, not yet matt." i tell him.

"i can't, oh my fuck-" he whines, his grip on my waist tightening, the cold metal of his rings pressing against the warmth of my skin.

"you can, and will." i say, placing a hand on his stomach to balance myself as i continue to ride him. he lets out soft groans as he throws his head back into the pillows, his hair flopping.

"your okay, your doing so well." i say with a small moan as I repeatedly hit my g-spot.

suddenly i feel matt release, coating my insides. matt rubs his eyes "did i tell you you could do that?" i say, looking into matts eyes.

"im sorry, shit- i'm so sorry." he rambles, instead of pulling off him, i chase my own orgasm. he groans from overstimulation, "too much, sensitive-" he says,

"is it my fault you came early?" i say as i sit down on his cock, rubbing my clit against his pelvic bone.

he shakes his head, somewhat arching his back off the bed as his hands dig into my waist. i let my head falll foward as i look down at matts hands,

"fuck it hurts." matt says,

we have an established safe word, he knows he can use it whenever he needs, but he's not.

"you want me to stop?" i ask, he pauses for a moment before letting out a breathless "no. fuck please dont-"

i continue to bounce on his length, i feel the pit in my stomach growing as my cheeks flush, matt has mutiple tears falling down his cheeks.

"i think i'm close-" matt says, my eyebrows twist with a small laugh "again?" i question, "yeah- shit." matt groans .

i clench around him, i think thats enough for matt to finish. the knot in my stomach snaps as i feel matt finish again. i collapse down onto matts chest as i attempt to catch my breath, he reaches down and pulls out of me with a wince.

"you okay? did i hurt you?" i say as i rest my face on matts shoulder.

"yeah- no im fine, needed that a lot." he says, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.

after a handful of minutes i sit up on matts lower stomach before lifting myself off him, stepping down onto the plush of our carpet. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." i say, wiping matts face with one hand, matt stays still on the bed.

"matt? stand up" i say, matt has a small smile on his face, he wipes his eyes before starting.

"i cant.. stand."

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#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #m

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this is for a friend that celebrated a birthday this week. I hope it was a good one! 🎉

when it's mc's birthday | the demon brothers

2.6k words | nsfw | gn!reader | fluff and non-explicit smut

cw: my fav bias is showing again. mostly soft!demons. car sex; levi's tail gets its own warning; bathing together and bath tub sex; dream magic and implied dream sex.

Lucifer plans your birthday with the utmost care. He booked a reservation at your favourite restaurant so that he can treat you to an intimate dinner. He remembered the various items you've pointed out to him in the past while browsing through the Devildom's shopping district. He went back and bought every single one of them, and they're already wrapped and tucked away in the back of his closet for later.

After he walks you home from the restaurant, there's a bottle of Demonus on ice waiting in his room. You share a toast while he watches you open your gifts. You kiss his cheek, eyes shimmery and warm with so much affection, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you properly. A soft, booze-sweetened kiss leads to another kiss, and another, and another after that. He strips your clothes off slowly, like he's unwrapping a gift of his own. He memorizes the sight of your body stretched languidly against his dark sheets. He almost feels selfish for a moment because he wants you so desperately, but the lust simmering in your gaze makes his heart race. He knows how much you want him too, and he's powerless to deny you.

The first time he makes love to you, it's heat and frenzied passion, the build-up of coy anticipation that finally boiled over. He reaches for you throughout the night between quiet conversation and short naps. Each time he pulls your body close to his again, his lips whisper tender confessions against the delicate shell of your ear while he worships your body with his over and over again.

Mammon isn't very subtle. In the days leading up to your birthday, he asks random questions about things you might like or activities you're interested in. He wants to get a head start and beat his brothers to the punch. His fake nonchalance isn't convincing, but it's still endearing how much he truly cares. Who else should celebrate your birthday if not him? He's your first, and he's not going to let anyone else spoil you more than he does.

He tries to budget his money and curb his spending so he can afford whatever it is you ask for. If that fails, he takes on some less-than-prestigious part-time gigs for extra cash. You could ask him for the world and he'd find a way to scrimp and save and scavenge and steal if he has to so he can give you whatever you want. He doesn’t realize (or doesn't believe) that his company is what makes your birthday really special.

He dresses up nice and polishes his car to a high-shine to match your own stunning smile and natural radiance. It doesn’t matter what you wear because when he tells you how gorgeous you are, he’s so sincere. You outshine all the riches and jewels he used to dream about—now he dreams of you instead.

He takes you on a date that's sweet and light-hearted. He holds your hand and stares at you across the table with a dopey grin on his face when he thinks you're not looking. Once you're alone in his car, that boyish giddiness fades into something greedy and confident. You meet him halfway when he leans over to give you a kiss. When kissing isn't enough for either of you, you push the seat back so he can climb over and settle between your legs. He takes you apart in the cramped front seat of his car until your voice is hoarse and you push him away from sensitivity. The car smells musky with sweat and cum and he doesn't care that you made a bit of a mess on the seat. He palms himself on the drive home, and by the time you get to his room, he's eager to do it all over again in the comfort of his bed.

Levi isn't sure what to do for your birthday, but you offer to plan a little outing for the two of you. All he has to do is keep you company, right? He braces himself with a mantra he repeats over and over in his head: do it for them, do it for them, do it and LIKE IT because you love them. It ends up being a lot more fun than he expects: a lunch date at one of the cafes you both like followed by a movie you’ve been excited to see. You don’t make fun of his sweaty palm when you hold hands in line to buy movie tickets and overpriced snacks at the concession bar. There's a cute plushie on display where they sell collectible merch. He buys that for you too and shoves it into your arms before you can protest.

He relaxes when you take your seats and the theatre lighting dims as the movie starts. You lean against his shoulder and he's glad you can't see how pink his cheeks are. Partway through the film, he decides he likes the movie, but not as much as he enjoys your warm fingers laced with his.

He jolts suddenly when you pull your hand away and slide your fingers onto his denim-clad thigh instead. Your fingers squeeze with the tiniest bit of pressure and he nearly gasps at the unexpected wave of lust that washes over him. He glances at you in confusion—you're still focused on the screen, but he can see the little smile curling the edge of your mouth. He squirms a little and pretends not to notice your fingers drawing lazy circle-eights across his jeans, inching higher up his leg when he doesn’t stop you. And you're right, he's not going to stop you. You run a fingertip over the growing bulge hardening against the zipper of his jeans, just as you feel his tail slide onto your lap and tease the sensitive skin between your legs.

Satan decides to take a different approach when he sees how overwhelmed you are by his brothers' plans for your birthday. Sometimes simple is best and what could be more relaxing or romantic than your favourite home-cooked meal? He fusses in the kitchen until everything is cooked exactly to your liking, and the dish he serves you looks as good as it smells. His room is tidied enough so that a small table fits—he doesn’t want the others bothering you if he serves you in the dining room. There are dozens of candles that cast you both in an ethereal glow while you eat together. His room might not offer the rich ambience of Ristorante Six or the electric atmosphere of The Fall, but nothing outshines the romance he creates here, just for you.

Once dinner is finished and he tidies up the mess, he pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a slow dance. It's more like swaying back and forth together as a classical record plays quietly in the background. Candlelight flickers playfully along the walls of his room, and your face is painted by a mirage of shadow and flame. He eagerly traces those shapes on your skin with his tongue after he lays you on his bed, and by the time you're shaking and falling apart in his arms, you'll know how much he loves you.

Your birthday is another chance for Asmo to spoil you. Throughout the afternoon, he leads you to each of his favourite boutiques in the Devildom's shopping district. He holds up dozens of clothes against your body and admires how the colours bring out your eyes or compliment your complexion or how luxurious the fabrics are. He pretends that he didn't pick all these out to show you (and buy them for you) in advance.

When he finally takes you to Majolish, his greatest gift is revealing that he personally designed this outfit specially for you. It fits flawlessly and even you think you look amazing. It’s obvious that he poured his love and passion into creating this for you when no one else ever has before. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his smile radiates warmth when he looks at you. His eyes burn with all the ravenous love he feels for you. He loses control of himself and kisses you, pressing you against the changing room wall and sliding his thigh between yours. He doesn't want to stop, but he doesn’t have the time or space to touch you properly here. When he pulls his leg out from between yours, he misses the searing heat of your body against his. Perhaps it’s for the best that he take you home first—he would hate to get stains on your new outfit so soon.

(He originally planned on taking you to The Fall but he changed his mind. He’s not in the mood to share you with anyone else tonight.)

When he takes you home, he leads you straight to his private bathroom and urges you to get undressed while he gets everything ready. He draws a warm bath and the steamy air clings to you both like a second skin. You feel self-conscious about being naked even though he stands before you, waist-deep in the bathwater and just as naked as you are. He takes your hand and pulls you gently into the water with him. He supports your weight when you lean against his chest and his hands start to wander over your body. His fingers leave a soapy trail up and down your spine. He cradles your neck and leans forward, capturing your lips in another kiss because he can't possibly wait anymore.

The kiss reignites both your desperate desires to touch and be touched. He walks you back towards the edge of the tub. When your back touches the cool marble stone, he reaches behind your thighs and lifts you onto the edge; he swallows your half-hearted protest with his lips moving greedily against yours. His mouth moves away from yours, ghosting along the curve of your jaw and down your neck while his fingers gently pry your legs apart. He bends his head low once you’re spread open for him, hot and trembling and all his. His eyes glow bright when you tangle your fingers in his hair, and it’s the last thing you see before he dips his head between your legs.

It's not surprising that Beel plans to take you out for dinner on your birthday. It's a tricky proposition because it's easy for him to lose control of his hunger when he goes out to eat. He doesn't want his sin to ruin your birthday dinner, so he eats a meal's worth of food beforehand. Having a partially-full stomach means he's not going to be completely distracted by hunger—he wants to focus on you.

He likes taking you to nice restaurants and your birthday is no exception. You put on a new outfit he’s never seen you wear before, but it looks so good on you that he's drooling from the corner of his mouth before you even leave the house. The restaurant is cozy and everything on the menu sounds delicious. Your nose bunches up adorably when you can't decide what to order, and Beel suggests ordering one of everything. He laughs deep in his belly when you glance at him skeptically over the brim of your menu. His eyes are bright with mischief even though you know he's dead-serious. He simply grins at you from across the table and reminds you that he won't let the food wouldn’t go to waste.

It doesn't take long for your food to arrive. Beel enjoys watching you eat while you make little sounds of contentment between bites. He offers you food from his own plate to try. When your plate is empty, he worries you might still be hungry; he's only satisfied when you promise that you're close to bursting and completely full. He leads you out of the restaurant by the hand, and his other hand carries a bag full of leftovers to share with you tomorrow.

When he walks you home, he doesn't want to seem needy or presumptuous even though he's reluctant to end the night so soon. He pauses outside your door and kisses you softly, whispering happy birthday against your lips that still taste sweet from your dessert earlier. He can’t resist swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth for one more taste, and the kiss deepens when you part your lips for him. You only break the kiss just long enough to open your door and pull him inside your room before slamming the door shut again. Your hands tug impatiently at his waist, and he shivers at the metallic clink of his belt buckle coming undone. He can sense hunger rising inside you again, and when he pushes you gently onto the mattress and covers your body with his own, he realizes your appetite is as insatiable as his own.

Belphie doesn't mind if the others want to take the initiative and plan your birthday party. He prefers it that way, actually. When his brothers ask for his input, he recommends something casual at the house, nothing too fancy. He wants you to be happy and relaxed and spoiled where you can be comfortable.

He sneaks into town to buy you a gift before the party, of course—something you mentioned to him in passing once that was too expensive for you to justify buying at the time. He and Beel wrap the presents they bought you in their room. Belphie's present looks insignificant compared to the large pile of gifts stacked near your birthday cake. He's not worried, especially when your eyes light up when you open it. You're just as appreciative of his small gift as you are of the others you receive. He knows you so well.

(You keep the contents of his card to yourself: a reminder that he has something special to give you later.)

Sometimes when he takes you to the attic for bed, he falls back against the mattress and waits impatiently for you to crawl on top of him. There's no hint of his lazy smugness tonight though. His hands are gentle but efficient when he strips your clothes away first before taking off his own. He follows you down onto the bed and smothers your body with his. The soft mattress cushions you when he grinds against you, and it squeaks from the force of his thrusts when he rocks inside you too. Your skin is littered with the little marks he sucks and nibbles into your skin. He cleans you with a warm, damp cloth after because your thighs and belly are covered in a sticky mess of you and him. He takes care of you with so much tenderness. You’re already snoring lightly by the time he's finished, and he cuddles against you with a yawn.

Shortly after you fall asleep, you dream of him. It’s a shared illusion between you conjured with the sleepy brand of magic he commands. You writhe against him in your sleep as the embers of lust continue to burn deep inside you. When the dream ends, you both wake up and instinctively reach for each other as the remnants of the dream fades away. He kisses you breathless despite your stale morning breath. You whimper against his mouth and he rolls over until you're underneath him again. After indulging in a night of dreamy, lustful sins, you're both still desperately eager for more.

read more: obey me masterlist

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #mammon x reader #mammon smut #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #satan x reader #satan smut #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus smut #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub smut #belphegor x reader #belphegor smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[jhkfan123]

dress | coriolanus snow

pairing: youngpresident!snow x assistantfem!reader

in which: a wardrobe malfunction leaves you with no choice but to wear a red dress to the presidential gala. a very scandalous red dress. one that your boss, coriolanus snow, was sure to notice.

warnings: heavy kissing (light smut, no s3x), cheating

wc: 2k

just my luck, you thought. they had tailored your dress completely wrong. you had no backup option. no alternate dress. but as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed every place this special dress no longer fit. it was a gorgeous dress, a showstopper. everyone at the gala would turn their heads. you knew it.

but there was no way you could still wear this. you would be the laughing stock of the presidential gala for years to come if you did. and you knew that snow would not like it. and he had to like it.

you really needed this job. being his assistant. it paid well, and you needed that. and you had come to the conclusion he had taken quite a liking to you. he didn't seem as cold towards you as others, though still, quite cold. he laughed at your jokes occasionally, made sure you had everything you needed.

and you had come to the conclusion that there was something about his cold personality that you liked. he could sometimes be charming, when he wanted to be. and of course there was no doubt he was a very attractive man. besides, being the president's personal assistant was a great job to have for future work.

you slipped the now ruined dress off and began to scavenge through your closet for anything that was close to suitable to wear tonight. you only had an hour before your car was here. it was either a new dress, or makeshift tailoring of the other dress. and you didn't know how to sew.

most other dresses you owned had too much of a work vibe, or far to short to be respectable.

then you came across one, tucked away in the back of your closet. you weren't sure when you got it, you certainly didn't remember purchasing it. but it was there. and when you took it off the hanger and got a good look at it, you thought it was worth a shot. floor length, and deep red color, it could work.

it wasn't until you fully looked at yourself in the mirror that you noticed the one flaw in the dress. almost the entirety of your left leg was exposed. a huge slit went up one side of it. the fabric bunched at the top, pretty much at your hip.

you almost gasped at the slit that exposed you. there was no way you could wear this. but as you continued to dig through your closet, you realized you had no other option. you were going to have to show up in this dress. you had no idea how people would react. but it was this or nothing.

as you stepped out of your car and approached the steps up to the presidential mansion, you saw heads turn at your outfit in the way you hadn't anticipated. you chose to walk with a confident exterior. just because you knew it wasn't the outfit you intended, didn't mean they had to know. you ignored all the eyes on you as you walked past and headed straight inside.

by the time you got there, most people had arrived. you weren't here with anyone, even though you had been given an option for a plus one. you didn't have anyone at home, and it would be nice to not have the obligation to stick with one person the whole night.

walking into the ballroom, less people turned their heads at your outfit. they were more focused on dancing, or eating, or talking to notice someone's outfit. and that was just what you wanted. if this outfit didn't go unnoticed, it would be the talk of the panem elite for weeks. they were all gossips.

you chatted with a few people who were connections through president snow, but they were just as uninterested as the vague topics as you, so you clung to a wall, drink in hand, and decided to watch the crowd.

"y/n." you heard. you recognized the voice as your boss's, snow. you turned to locate the sound and found him walking towards you. he was dressed in a suit with red accents, his signature color. in fact, it was almost the same shade of red as your dress.

"oh. hello mr. snow." you greeted him as he took the drink in your hand and gave you a fresh one.

"please, coriolanus. coryo, even. we aren't working." he corrected you. you nodded.

"sorry. hello coryo." you spoke again, taking his correction. going with his nickname, you noticed a quiet reaction in his face. he raised one side of his mouth into a little smirk.

"no, no don't apologize." it was at this moment he looked down at your outfit. you watched as his eyes scanned from the top of your outfit, down to your heels, and then looked at your leg from the bottom of the slit to the top. you weren't surprised, but this did incite some sort of fear in you. if he didn't approve of this outfit, you had no idea what the consequences could be. "i- um," he cleared his throat. "i like your dress." the comment seemed like a cover up for his true opinion.

"thank you, snow. the suit fits you great. i'm glad it worked out." you were present for all of his fittings and the entire process of picking out the suit. you were his assistant, after all.

"thank you. that's-" he took a pause and looked at you're outfit again. "that's not the dress you said you were going to wear." you knew it would come up. he had approved the original dress you picked. you decided wether or not to admit to the mishap, or play it off.

"last minute decision." you smiled at him. you couldn't tell if he bought your lie or not.

"mm." he looked around the room and took a sip of his drink. "i hate these things, you know." the presidential ball had been around for five years now. you had only attended last year's ball, as you had gotten this position only a few months before it.

"why keep throwing them?" you asked. he looked at you as if it was odd to even ask the question.

he thought for a moment before answering. "keeps people busy, distracted. it's become the event of the year. not bad for the campaign, either." he responded. you nodded in agreement.

"where's livia?" you asked. his wife, livia cardew, was supposed to be the most dressed up person here, yet you hadn't spotted her in the crowd yet. you noticed as he rolled his eyes at the mention of her name. he had an odd coldness towards his own wife. you knew their marriage wasn't great, but it was as if he never really loved her at all.

"i'm not sure. haven't seen her all day. she might not even be here." he responded quickly and vaguely. you looked around the room for a moment before you looked back at snow. you caught him staring at your exposed leg again. he quickly looked back at you.

"i'm going to go talk to people." there was something about the way he looked at you that made you want to escape. he looked at you in a way a married man shouldn't. he nodded and you lost yourself in the crowd.

after dancing and a drink, you were back on the wall, people watching. that was until a hand grabbed you and began to pull you into a separate room. you looked up as you saw snow enter the library, your hand in his, and shut the door behind you.

"coryo what the hell!" you immediately regretted the way you talked to your boss. you almost covered your mouth in regret, however, he didn't seem to mind.

"i can't take this any longer." he began to pace in front of you. the warm light of the library fireplace backlit him.

"what?" you were still flustered from the sudden entrance to the library.

"you know, i could handle you when you were in regular dresses, and pantsuits, and everything but this." he gestured to your dress. "but you absolutely cannot show up to my gala looking like that and expect me to not notice you." he got closer to you now, still going on. he was breathing heavily and seemed like he was arguing with himself. "expect me to not want you." he finally took a moment to catch his breath.

"notice me? coryo, what?"

"you are tormenting me. in that outfit. you're driving me mad. you're making me hate you and need you at the same time." you began to get butterflies in your stomach at his comments. "i tried to distance myself from you, but no matter how far away i was from you, i was across the ballroom from you and i still couldn't get you out of my head." you couldn't help but smile. he noticed. "don't smile at me. god don't do that."

he paused. he thought for a moment. you couldn't help but get red at his comments. you knew exactly what he wanted to do. you knew exactly what your boss wanted from you:

you.

so you looked at him, batting your eyelashes once in a while, waiting for him to do something. waiting for him to snap.

"you drive me insane." he spoke again, this time much quieter. "insane." he walked over to you and kissed you like he had never wanted anything more. he backed you up against the bookshelf and ignored the fact that a few books fell. you kissed him back. something about the words he had spoken earlier had convinced you that you needed him the same way he needed you.

he grabbed your leg, which was easy from the slit of the dress and dragged it up until it was sitting on his hip. he held it with one arm. he began to slither that arm up your leg towards your thigh. that was when your adrenaline high ended and you realized the magnitude of your decision. you realized that at any moment, livia cardew could walk in and see her husband cheating on her with his assistant. you pulled away to speak. he didn't bother to stop and this time began to kiss your neck.

"coryo-" you took a beat to catch your breath. "coryo, you're married!" you took heavy breaths as he continued to kiss you.

through rough kisses, he spoke again.

"barely. i couldn't care less if she sees us." something about the comment made your knees go weak, and you directed his kisses towards your lips again.

everything about this was wrong. but the high you got from him made every bad outcome disappear as you focused on the moment. he made the entire world outside of this library disappear. all you wanted right now was him, close to you. in fact, you wanted so much more than that.

and you knew he did too. you could tell through his unspoken words and kisses that this was something he had controlled for a long time. something he had kept inside. but the dress you had worn tonight clearly set him over the edge. he picked your other leg up and started to take you somewhere. you heard as he pushed multiple things off the desk at once and place you there instead.

there was something about the scandal and secrecy of this all that made it that much more appealing to you.

as he continued to make you feel things you hadn't felt before, he threw his coat down. every move he made was that much more attractive.

at the beginning, this felt risky, but now, as you sat there, letting him kiss you wherever he pleased, you had no regrets. none at all.

the dress that had been your biggest concern that night had given you the biggest reward.

getting absolutely high off coriolanus snow.

tags: @mischieftom

#jhkfan123 #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #snow lands on top #hunger games #tbosas #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanussnow #coryo #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagine #tom blyth x you #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #tomblyth

[rninies]

✮ matching hoodies

౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, ratio is so in love w you, modern!au — wc: 733 | tags: @rosequarzo @fairykazu

notes. hai im back w another ratio fic

"remind me why we are here again?" veritas asks, watching you look through the hoodie section of the store.

"i’m here to buy a hoodie, veritas. you’ve asked that question ten times now," you sighed. turning your head to face him, you see a pronounced frown on his face. "why are you frowning? do you not like accompanying me shopping?"

"no it’s just- our closet is already full of your hoodies. more than half of the closet is filled with your stuff. why do you need more?" veritas answers.

you give him a sheepish smile in return. "well, i happen to be someone who loves hoodies so deal with it. besides, i know you love borrowing my hoodie from time to time."

veritas's face actually turns a light shade of red hearing you expose his actions. "you- you didn’t have to say that out loud, idiot."

you gasped dramatically. "veritas ratio, language!" and you dodged an incoming balled-up scrap of paper. "what was that for?!"

“for being annoying.”

"oh you wound me," you placed a hand over your chest for dramatic effect and couldn’t help the laugh from escaping your lips as you see veritas's disgusted look. "okay, how about you sit over there while i find the perfect hoodie for me to wear, yeah?" you pointed at the small seating area and veritas agrees silently, taking the other shopping bags with him. 

as soon as veritas sits down and busies himself with his phone, you scavenged through the pile of hoodies, racks of sweaters, basically anything that fits the category ‘long-sleeved and keeps us warm’. hoodie hunting wasn’t your favorite pastime as it not only takes up so much of your time but you also have to let go of the other cute hoodies you find along the way.

when you reached the last pile of hoodies, you find a white hoodie with a small brown dinosaur holding out a finger heart while winking and facing the right. looking below that was an identical one, it being a black hoodie with a green dinosaur doing the same pose except it’s facing the left. putting the two hoodies next to each other, it makes it seem like the dinosaurs are shooting hearts at each other.

your eyes light up as soon as you find these two pairs of hoodies, grabbing both and ran to the cashier (veritas fortunately did not see you). as soon as you paid, you basically skipped your way back to veritas, which caught his attention. "why- when did you pay for the hoodie? i could’ve paid for you."

"just now!" you replied and took out the black hoodie from the bag, showing it to him. "look, isn’t it cute? especially the dinosaur!"

veritas nods, not really paying attention to the hoodie. "it’s cute, yeah- what are you do-" he gets cut off when you basically force him to wear the hoodie.

taking out the white hoodie, you wore it, and smiled at him. "look, now we match!"

veritas looks at the mirror in front of him and true to your words, you both were indeed matching. "what the hell?"

"don’t you dare take it off," you warned, seeing veritas about to reach for the hem of the hoodie. "i paid for these hoodies and you’re keeping it. it’s cute, okay? look at the dinosaurs! just like you and me."

"very funny, y/n," veritas grumbles, holding you by the waist as he leads you out of the store. "this is embarrassing!" though the way his hands tightened around your waist says a different thing.

"be glad i didn’t end up picking one where it was super obvious that we got matching hoodies." you say, poking his cheeks. "besides, we don’t have any matching items! the closest thing we have to something classified as matching is that keychain we bought on our first date."

"and do you not like the keychains?" veritas asks. "it’s two cats and when you connect them with each other it looks like they’re cuddling with each other.”

"okay, i did not ask for your inner cat lover to come out when we’re discussing the keychains," you pointed out. "yes i love the keychains, but i want something more, hence the hoodies."

veritas groans, looking at his hoodie and yours. "be glad that i love you."

"that’s such a cliche thing to say." you giggled.

"shut up."

#kylin.writes #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x y/n #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio fluff #veritas ratio hsr #dr ratio #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail dr ratio #honkai star rail veritas ratio #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr veritas ratio #hsr dr ratio

[jiminrings]

good day miss jimjiminieerings 🫡 i hope i’m not being a bother for asking this but may we 😍 with deepest humility and pleasantries 🥹 have a tiny tiny sneak peek of your brothers bff single dad au 😍👉👈 😍? again if it’s not a bother miss jimjiminieerings!!! feel free to ignore this ask if u are unable to post– im just excited 😍🙏😅🥹

fail-safe (sneak peek)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

sneak peek 01

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye.

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself.

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.”

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot.

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.”

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion.

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

.

.

sneak peek 02

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing it against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

ruh-roh new series alert :O wanna read the entire first chapter of fail-safe now + intermission 01 + chapter two + gain early access to succeeding chapters + read other exclusive content?? subscribe to my patreon :D

also to get ahead of the questions: yes, this is a general fic aka it WILL be posted on tumblr too!!!

#sneak peek

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

And All The Fears You Hold So Dear

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. Unplanned Pregnancy. Mild violence. Also there's like a smidge of nsfw talk there but thought I'd let you know beforehand just in case.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Part Three and Final Installment of something that started as a one-shot and somehow escalated into this¿¿

I just want to thank you for all your very kind comments and let you know that I got a couple requests that I'll be working on, so this might not be the last you see of me. Ily <3

also i cried so much writing this now you have to suffer like i did. xo

Right after the tears finally stopped coming, the emotional exhaustion translated into an intense weariness that made you collapse on the sofa. That hour spent out of consciousness was a blissful interlude in the pain that had your chest hurting and leaving you unable to breathe.  You’d once read somewhere that there was something called “phantom limb syndrome” in which people could feel pain in an amputated hand, arm, or leg. When you woke up, you looked out at the now dark sky and thought of giving Miguel a call to tell him about what an awful day you were having until the memories came back like a harrowing tsunami that had you tearing up when you wondered for how long you’d have to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t there anymore. This time, however, you became angry. And oddly self-assured.

You didn’t need him. You’d given him a choice, and if a sad, pitiful, lonely life was what he wanted, then good riddance. His loss.

You could do this. Jessica’s pregnancy hadn’t stopped her after all. Sure, it would be challenging but there were mothers out there who took care of one or more children and balanced several jobs didn’t they? So what if you moonlighted as a vigilante whose life was on the line every day? What if you’d have to spend the rest of your life protecting him or her from the bunch of fairly dangerous enemies you’d made in the past months?

Or maybe you didn’t have to.

Your eyes wandered off to your suit which you’d mindlessly thrown on the floor the second you’d arrived home, scrutinizing the details and the care that you’d put into creating it. You wondered what it would look like inside a box, hidden in the back of the closet for years, or until your kid stumbled upon it and asked about mommy’s dutifully hidden past.

An obnoxious beeping sound coming from between the cushions snapped you out of your fantasy as you fished your watch. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken it with you and now it was issuing a warning concerning an anomaly with an amazing timing that had decided to pop into your dimension.

Placing a hand on your stomach, you looked out of the window and doubtfully pressed your lips together.

“Shit. Please, let it be a Vulture that’s literally a vulture, please,” you pleaded with whatever deity chose to listen to you as you picked up your suit and rushed to the bathroom, mindlessly throwing the test into the trash can before pulling the mask over your head.

Unfortunately, you didn’t arrive at the location to find a confused scavenging bird flapping around. You weren’t even sure of what you’d been sent to capture. At the scene, several police cars had formed a barricade outside of an empty warehouse and seemed to be lying in wait, aiming at the door with their guns. Good. That meant you could get in there and set things straight with the unwanted visitor before anybody got hurt.

You stealthily made your way from a nearby ledge to the roof, finding your way in through a broken skylight and landing on top of a pile of metallic crates solid enough to hold your weight but making your entrance noisier than you would’ve liked.

Whatever you were looking for, it was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was in such darkness that, if it wasn’t for the night-vision lenses Miguel had fitted into your mask, you wouldn’t be able to see further than your own nose. They had come in pretty handy, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so opposed to getting them.

“(Y/N) it’s just one small modification, give me one reason not to.”

“Because you’ve already done too much!”

“Oh come on, it will take me what? Twenty minutes?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean you’ve done too much to my suit, Miguel. First, the emergency parachute, next the spine and nape reinforcements, then you literally said ‘You know what? How about we just redo the whole thing with fireproof fabric?’ and now another modification?”

“He added memory foam insoles too, said you wouldn’t notice, I’m with you on this one” Lyla chimed in.

You pressed your lips together to fight back a satisfied smile while Miguel glared daggers at the AI assistant, who refused to back down.

“She still remembers please and thank you, alright?”

“Lyla, will you please go check if there’s a faulty connection or a leaky pipe somewhere? Thank you.”

After throwing a sickly sweet smile his way, she vanished.

“Alright then,” Miguel continued arguing, “I’m sorry for offering to install state-of-the-art, potentially lifesaving enhancements to your suit. What was I thinking, not wanting my girlfriend to die?”

He lifted his hands in defeat and retreated to the other side of the room, minimizing the digital blueprints of the new glasses.

“And for the record,” He continued, “I didn’t do all the work for your new suit, you designed it, remember? I had no idea of what a ‘basque waistline’ was,”

When he finished talking, he was surprised to hear absolutely nothing coming from your side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned to see you still leaning against the metallic table on top of which your suit rested. You were staring at him with a surprised expression that only baffled him further when he noticed the bright blush spreading around your cheeks and down to your neck. Then it dawned on him.

“Oh shit, I’ve never called you that before, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,”

Of course, that small window of vulnerability was all he needed.

“Please let me put the lenses on your suit?”

What he didn’t know was that you can see both ways through a window. When he earnestly pleaded with you to let him install the stupid attachment, his true motives were as clear as if you’d heard them straight from his mouth.

Last time I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t plan ahead. If something happens to you and I have the slightest notion that I didn’t do absolutely everything in my power to keep you safe…please. Do this for me, would you? For my own, selfish peace of mind?

And he’d been right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something dart from behind one container to the next one.

“I see you,” You announced, rolling your shoulders as your Spider-Sense began acting up, “Listen, you’re probably feeling confused right now and if you come out we could…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence as something heavy and cold tackled you onto the ground. Instinctively, you rolled over just in time for something sharp the size of a harpoon to stab the ground next to your head strong enough to pierce the concrete. Without wasting one more second, you jumped on top of a container to take a better look at whatever the hell that was just to find that same spot completely empty. Whatever it was, it was fast. Wincing at the sharp pain in your shoulder, you reminded yourself you had to be more careful and avoid taking strong hits like that.

However, you couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. And, as if to affirm that thought as quickly as it came, your sense warned you of something coming at you from behind. Before it could take you by surprise again, you swiftly moved out of the way and shot webs twice to try and pin it down so you could at least take a good look at what you were up against.

“What in the…?” You gasped as you stared at what you’d captured. Before you, a 20-foot-long pale yellow scorpion furiously trashed about as it tried to free itself from your webs. Not even five seconds after you spotted it, the critter broke free of its restraints and disappeared behind another container. Well, reasoning and trying to bring him in peacefully wasn’t going to work with this one. For now, you knew that it was going to try and keep attacking you, so the best you could do for now was to keep an eye on him before he could plunge that hideous stinger through your forehead. Especially since the little shit was remarkably fast. What was that thing Miguel always told you to do?

“No, remember. You’ve got to think further, think two steps ahead,”

“You know, Miguel, repeating that a million times isn’t going to suddenly give me the ability to see ten seconds into the future,” you muttered, taking the hand he reached out to help you get up. With a wince, you placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled it until it popped.

“It’s not about seeing into the future, (Y/N), it’s about finding unprotected spots and patterns,”

“How come outside I’m love, gorgeous or mi chiquita preciosa de ojitos bonitos, but the minute we’re in here I’m back to being (Y/N),”

“First of all, that last one never happened, we agreed on it, I was in…a vulnerable…”

“You were drunk, you can say it, I won’t tell,”

He glared at you in a way you knew meant ‘won’t you?’. Hopefully, he’d never find out you’d told Peter every last detail of his drunken silliness as soon as you had the chance.

“Second of all, here you’re just like anybody else. You mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to you because that’s how the attackers are going to see you, as an obstacle to get out of the way. Now focus. I’m going to attack you again,”

While knowing beforehand he was going to come at you gave you some advantage, you managed to block the blow he launched at your head. Before he could try again, you noticed his next attempt at an attack was leaving his legs completely exposed. Then, you did what Jess had taught you to do whenever you faced somebody taller than you: go for the knees. You crouched and, with a classic foot sweep, managed to make him lose his balance just enough for you to hook your legs on either side of his and take him down.

You were so tired you couldn’t even gloat properly, instead settling for smiling to yourself and releasing a short, triumphant, ‘ha!’ with your last breath before crawling over to him and sitting next to his lying body.

“You know, if I’m supposed to think two movements ahead,” You say, a beckoning look in your eyes, “I think it’s safe to predict you’re going tell me that there’s nothing more you can teach me, and then carry me to your quarters to do absolutely unspeakable things to me,”

Honestly, it had been stupid of you to think he would give up that easily. Not even two seconds later, it was your back that was pressed against the floor as his large frame covered you, and his hand held your wrists on top of your head. Then he leaned in, painfully slowly, until he was close enough for you to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, a low chuckle left his throat.

“Chula, you don’t know half of all the things I can teach you. But this isn’t the place for most of them. Let’s get moving.”

Thankfully, you forced your brain to focus on the matter at hand before it could replay the entire memory.

Two steps ahead (Y/N), come on.

That thing always attacked with the stinger first. Then it would probably try to immobilize you with its pincers. Quickly tracing a plan inside your head, you started to roam the dark warehouse looking for the missing critter, your spider-sense as sharp as ever as you looked behind every crate and container only to find nothing. Maybe it had left the building without you noticing? Outside, the police still remained alert and in wait. There was no way it could have left without being seen.

Fine. If you couldn’t find him, then he could come and find you. Making your way to the center of the empty space, you remained perfectly still and waited for your sense to tell you where the beast was coming from. The wait was short-lived as you felt a sharp wave of shivers running down your right arm, your entire body shifting to face that side just in time to shoot enough web to completely wrap the entire stinger and leave enough web for you to jump and throw over a beam, leaving the scorpion hanging upside down while aggressively pinching the air around him with its pincers. Unwilling to take any risks, you covered them as well. You had to stand there and catch your breath for a few seconds before looking over to your watch to report you’d successfully captured the anomaly. Only then you had the chance to see that you had several missing calls from Peter.

“(Y/N)?” Peter asked when the call went in almost immediately, “Where have you been? I tried calling but you didn’t answer,”

“Yeah, sorry for going AWOL. I’ve been…busy. I caught something back here. I just reported it,” Behind you, you could hear the scorpion still struggling to free itself, “It’s an ugly one, Mayday’s going to love it.”

“(Y/N), listen, I think you should come back here. You and Miguel should try to talk…”

“P.B., I love you but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Okay? How about you come over here and help me drag this feisty little shit back to the HQ so we can send it home? You won’t believe it; it has to weigh at least…”

When you turned around to proudly stare at your prisoner, you were met with nothing but a lone stinger, eerily dangling from the ceiling. Your proud smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. Before you could open your eyes to say anything else, you found yourself trapped between two cold surfaces that painfully squeezed all the air out of your lungs as you let out a painful yell. You desperately grabbed each side of the pincer, trying to pry them open to release yourself to no avail. With your brain already starting to run low on oxygen, your strength began to fade. You heard Peter questioningly say your name from the device still attached to your wrist, but he sounded as if you’d been submerged underwater. And his voice sounded as if it was further, and further away. You were falling into a deep and dark lake, air deprived and without enough strength to swim to the surface. So you let yourself sink further, close your eyes and let darkness engulf you as you keep going down.

You’d wondered once or twice what would come after life. Since there was no way for you to be certain about anything, you decided to believe what sounded the most comforting. You would wake up in a beautiful place, full of light, that smelled like freshly baked cookies all the time because you would be sitting at a kitchen table with all the people that you lost along the way, and it was time for all of you to have cookies with whatever you wanted to drink, maybe you just hung out in silence, or you would discuss all the wisdom that the act of passing away seemed to come with…the point was that in no scenario did heaven smell like antiseptic.

This discrepancy was what made you start slowly blinking as you furrowed your eyebrows, the intense white light surrounding you making your head spin. Eventually, you were able to discern some shadows that slowly morphed into a familiar face.

“Hey, welcome back,” Jessica gently greeted you from a chair in the corner of the room. The hospital room. Like they’d done hours before when you woke up from your nap, a new wave of unpleasant memories came crashing down once more as you tried to sit up with a worried expression.

“Is…are we both okay?” It wasn’t until you tried to ask that you noticed a certain reluctance at saying the word.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Jess immediately assured you. Then why did she look so troubled?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, rolling her chair closer and grabbing your hand gently, “Honey, of all people you know I would’ve understood,”

“Jess, I’m so scared,” Was all you came up with before shutting your eyes and clamping your lips together to keep the sobs inside, tears already beginning to fall from your cheeks, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, how am I supposed to do this if I can’t even take down a lousy scorpion without getting myself killed?”

With a reassuring smile, the woman tried to hug you as much as her pregnancy allowed her, comfortingly running one hand down your hair and rubbing your back with the other.

“See? You’re great at this already and your kid isn’t even here,” You sobbed against her shoulder, too exhausted to return the embrace.

“What makes you think you won’t be?” She asked, pulling away to give you some space and much-needed room to breathe.

And you knew the exact reason. It came to you so fast and with such clarity that it scared you. But maybe she would understand that too. However, right as you opened your mouth to speak, a soft click coming from the door interrupted you right before it opened, leaving you completely exposed to the thorough, scrutinizing look of the man that hours ago you thought you’d never lay eyes on again.

You turned at Jess, hoping she’d create an excuse for him to leave you alone. You weren’t done talking to her. You desperately wanted her to stay. However, she’d already turned to look at him and left her chair.

“I’ll give you a moment,” She said and, after gently caressing your shoulder one last time, left the room.

And then there were two.

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of one single thing to say, much less anticipate what his next move would be. Yet, your eyes never left his. Your jaw hurt from how hard you had to clench it to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Fuck, could the hormones be acting up already? Right when you were starting to wonder if, should neither of you say something, you would just stay there in this staring contest until the end of time, Miguel spoke.

“How long have you known?”

“A day. Or so.” You blurted out so quickly that he wasn’t done speaking when you replied. It wasn’t until his eyes left yours and wandered down that you realized you’d been clutching your pale blue gown the entire time. As you slowly let go of it, you realized your hands were shaking.

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked again, his voice turning one octave higher right in the middle of the question.

“Well, I found out not so long ago, and immediately after I was called here to help so I thought we had bigger problems and this could wait. But then you said we had been a mistake all along so I imagined I was on my own for this one. And I think that pretty much covers it.”

Silently, he took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” He replied, not looking at you but at an empty spot on the wall, “Back there, when I realized you were gone something didn’t make sense. You’ve pushed back much harder for less important things and now you just turned around and left? And with this, it makes even less sense. Even out of spite, you would’ve told me before leaving.”

You hated how well he knew you, and how right he was. And how what he said didn’t make you angry, but instead make you confront the harrowing confession you’d left unfinished before he walked in.

“What if you were right?” You asked taking a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t intend for this to happen, you know? It just did. What we had was manageable because at least it was just between us, no third parties affected, if anything went wrong with the timeline and such we could call it off and that was that. But now there was something tangible real coming out of this and I panicked because what if it messed everything up? What if we’d made a mistake? But I just didn’t want to think about it until you sort of confirmed it,”

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry in front of him while having this conversation. You tried to focus on anything else to cope with his seemingly endless silence, anything but his slouching shape next to you. The soft fabric of your sheets, or the faint whirring of the monitor next to you displaying your vitals. Now you focused on your breaths. Long, deep breaths.

“So,” He finally spoke in a hoarse voice you were sure you’d never heard before, and you were so taken aback by it that you turned to look at him before you could stop yourself to find a strange, oddly endearing sight. He was crying. Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but there were definitely tears in his eyes and even if he was better at hiding it, you were sure he was struggling to keep them confined there as much as you were. Suddenly self-aware of the change in his voice, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“So, we’re having a baby?”

He sounded so expectant, and yet so afraid of the answer. He was absolutely terrified. You could see it in his eyes. This man, who faced life-risking challenges every day and had seen enough for several lifetimes, had never seemed so frightened. The thought, for some reason, made you laugh as you shuddered when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Seems like it,” came the reply in such a croaky voice that it left you no choice but to laugh a little bit more.

This time he laughed too, although you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile before being engulfed in a hug that made you wish you weren’t in such a state so you could pull him as close to you as you really wanted. Instead, you settled for resting your forehead against his shoulder as he pulled away enough to plant several small and warm kisses on your temple.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “God, I swear I didn’t mean one single word. Whatever happens next, we’ll deal with it as it comes, I don’t care, right now all I know is none of this would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t brought me here to you,”  

“Hey, don’t get sentimental on me, O’Hara,” you jokingly said, pulling away to be able to look into his eyes, “We’re going to be just fine,”

“I won’t if you keep doing stupid shit like this, (Y/N), ¿qué carajos te pasa? ‘we’re going to be just fine’ Claro, si por tu culpa no me da un infarto primero,“ He scolded you, leaving his seat, “You know you’re benched, right? You’re staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of trouble,”

“What about my dimension? There are plenty of non-interdimensional criminals there desperate to be caught,” You complained.

“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD’s going to have to figure it out for themselves for the next few months. Might even teach them to appreciate you a little more.”

“And if there’s another anomaly?”

“Dios mío, mujer,” He impatiently argued back, “I’ll go then. Or we’ll send somebody else. You’re staying here. Period.”

“Fine,” You huffed, not pleased at all with the order despite knowing you’d been very lucky this time, “But just for three months,”

“Six,” He stubbornly insisted.

“Five, but Peter’s going to be the godfather and you have to tell him.”

A disgruntled sigh echoes throughout the room.

“Fine,”

Taglist: @anywherebuthere @khaleesihavilliard @spookyboogyuniverse @sunshiines-stuff @letharue @withbeautyandrage

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv #angst #female reader #reader insert #Spotify

[ryukatters]

kaaatttt 😭😭😭 i need some satoru headcanons to heal my soul... what is he like as a bf??

ask and you shall receive my love (writing this to heal my soul)

content: modern AU, fluff, nsfw headcanons at the end

SFW

“mmm..i think i deserve a little treat right now.” 

except he says that at least 5 times a day and you will also be given a little treat. he does not care if you don’t want to eat kikufuku right now, you will be accompanying him to get some. 

speaking of, this man is basically eating 24/7. if gojo leaves your side for any reason while you guys are home, just know he is scavenging the kitchen for scraps like the raccoon he is. 

food is one of satoru’s main love languages. there’s something oddly satisfying and strangely warm about his loved ones eating and sharing a meal together, even if they tend to make him the butt of the joke in every single dinner conversation. 

will force you to become a sanrio girly idc (if you aren’t one already)

“babe, look!” "satoru, we have enough cinnamoroll plushies at home." "so you hate me then?"

the type to pick you up and spin you around whenever you two hug. he’ll spin and spin until both of you are dizzy and crash onto the couch.

attention whore. also just a whore in general but mostly a whore for (your) attention. will absolutely do the MOST to make sure your eyes are on him— i’m talking about poking your cheek, locking your phone if you’re scrolling through tiktok next to him, and it doesn’t even take much for him to start begging. he’s a loser like that.

scarily in tune with you. satoru is a lot more emotionally intelligent than he likes to let on around others, but he picks up on a lot of things. both of you are at a function and he can take one look at you and know that it's time to pack it up and go home.

is very sentimental about the things you give him/the things you two do together. before you started dating, satoru wasn't really one to collect tiny trinkets or keep ticket stubs because he thought they were just a waste of space. after you two got together, he started keeping virtually everything in a little box hidden in his closet. he realized that it's nice to give sentimental value to the little things, because then the memories associated with them live on in something physical.

he just... can't keep his hands to himself LOL. and like not even in a sexual manner either (sometimes), he just naturally gravitates towards you and is almost always touching you somehow— hand fiddling with your jewelry or hair, arm around your shoulder when you're sitting, arm around your waist when you're standing, playing footsies, whatever.

this man is painfully in love with you, and he makes it everyone's (mostly nanami's) problem. manages to bring you up in every single conversation with a lovesick grin on his face.

you will rarely ever hear satoru address you by your actual name. it will always be some variation of baby, babe, sweetheart, love, etc. uses snookums, cupcake, sweet cheeks, cinnamon sugar roll, my little sausage mcgriddle <3 on a rotating basis to annoy you

NSFW

you know those couples that just have this pent up sexual tension between them for no reason? like y’all could just be looking at each other but to everyone else it feels like you two are just eyefucking ​​😭 that’s you and gojo

no matter how long you guys have been together for, that spark between you just doesn't go away. people can see the immense physical attraction between you two.

is somewhat of an exhibitionist LMAO. he literally gets horny at the worst times and will drag you to the nearest supply closet, even if it means breaking the door in the process. who knows, maybe his real kink is vandalism

enjoys when you put up a bit of a fight/act like a brat. it makes putting you in your place so much sweeter.

very vocal— talking, moaning, whimpering. he sounds very pretty. he's extremely receptive to your touch so simply rubbing your hand along the bulge in his jeans has him moaning like a pornstar.

say it with me: satoru gojo is a pussy👏🏻pleaser👏🏻!

really likes going down on you. he thinks he could stay in between your thighs forever if you'd let him.

nasty. will cum inside you and clean it up with his tongue.

oscillates between wanting to overstimulate you and deny you. sometimes he does both. the way you get this hazy look in your eye and become so pliant, so needy for him gets him going.

he gets strangely possessive during sex. maybe it's a way for him to affirm that you really do love him and find him attractive.

"i'm the only one that can fuck you like this, right? make you feel this good?"

is a fan of snacks during aftercare LOL. you could have just had the most wild sex of your life, with the two of you panting as you lie in bed before satoru rolls over and opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out a pack of oreos before shoving one into your mouth

Some of these aren't even bf headcanons they're just how I think he'd be LMFAO

#i have a lot more but i'll stop #gojo headcanons #jjk headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #kat's writing #kat’s demon time

[wordsarelife]

DAY 23: WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME

-> part 2 of it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

pairing: platonic!slytherin group x fem!reader

summary: when you don't turn up for breakfast one morning, your friends go on a scavenger hunt to find you

warnings: mentions of illness, a bit of angst, but happy ending

the slytherin boys and pansy were sitting in their usual seats at the slytherin table, eating their breakfast

"where is y/n?" draco asked pansy, while he folded the paper to put it down

"probable hanging mistletoes around the school" mattheo joked

"she's still in the dorm. she didn't want to come down with me" pansy shook her head

"she didn't want to?" theo asked "is something wrong?"

"she's probably planning another of those christmas surprises" blaise laughed "first the picture and next we have to handwrite the cards too"

"is she alright?" enzo slapped blaise on the arm "it's unlikely for her to skip breakfast"

"she didn't talk much" pansy shrugged "i asked her if she wanted to come down and she just shook her head and turned back around"

"she's still in bed?" draco asked baffled "yeah, this absolutely doesn't seem likely, don't you think?"

"hmm" mattheo nodded "if you put it like this"

“okay, now, what do we do? do we go to the dorm?” enzo asked shrugging

“do i look like a girl to you?” draco deadpanned

“no..?” enzo looked confused

“then how am i supposed to ‘go to the dorm’?”

“huh”

“why don’t you ask her what’s going on?” theo looked at pansy “maybe you can get her to come downstairs, we can wait there for you”

before pansy got a chance to answer, blaise chimed in “you mean.. right before class?”

“we’ll just cut breakfast short and go now” mattheo suggested

“do we have to?” blaise didn’t receive an answer, just angry looks from his friends “okay, okay” he raised his hands in defeat “we go now”

the group got up from their seats and walked back to the slytherin common room. the boys sat down while pansy walked up to your shared dorm, to get you downstairs

“y/n?” she asked, as she didn’t see you in bed like she had initially expected. she looked around the room, you were nowhere to be found. just like the christmas decor you had put up.

pansy walked into the room, opened the closet and wondered where you could’ve went. and why you took the christmas decorations with you. you loved christmas and you never took down the decorations until it was atleast february.

the boys looked up as pansy came back down. “she isn’t in our room”

“what?” blaise almost screeched.

“how more clearly can she put it?” theo asked sarcastically.

“so we came here for nothing?” blaise shook his head frustrated.

his friends ignored him. “where could she have gone?” mattheo asked. no one knew an answer. they sat down frustrated.

"she took the decor away too" pansy said suddenly and all the boys looked up in surprise.

"what?" blaise asked

"how more clearly can she-"

blaise interrupted theo. "no, like genuinely what?" even blaise seemed to be worried now "was she held at gunpoint, being forced to take it down and then got kidnapped?"

"doesn't seem likely" draco shook his head

"no" mattheo interfered "he's onto something. you know y/n! she's basically santa clause if he was a cute girl"

"i think she loves christmas more than she loves all of us" enzo nodded.

"seriously, what happened to our y/n?" pansy let her face sink into her hands.

"are you searching for y/n?" a voice behind the couch made them perk up. it was one of the second years y/n was tutoring.

"tell us what you know, little boy" blaise encouraged

the boy send him a weird look and turned his head to look at pansy instead, someone who seemed a lot more sane and he knew to be y/n's best friend. "she told me she couldn't make it to our tutor session today and then she said she was going to the library"

the walk to the library was one of the fastest things the slytherins had ever done, desperate to quickly find you.

after they had stumbled into the room, they had been immediately thrown out by madam pince, who didn’t want any disturbance before ten o’clock atleast

“okay” theo said to the woman “do you at least know if y/n is here?”

“y/n?” madam pince repeated and no one of your friends was surprised that you were on first name basis with the libertarian. “yes, she was here, about thirty minutes ago. she brought back a book and helped me put a few away”

“did she tell you where she was going?” pansy asked the woman, who seemed a lot friendlier since you had been mentioned.

“yes, she wanted to get some fresh air, she said”

“so she’s outside?” draco concluded.

madam pince just shrugged, before she had that look on her face again, that told all of them that the conversation was over.

before they had started to walk away, she did say something else. something uncharacteristically nice, which made your friends worry even more. “i hope you find her”

the slytherin group stepped out into the cold winter air, their breath visible in the early morning frost. they followed faint traces of your presence—disheveled footprints in the snow, and a few abandoned christmas decorations.

"she was definitely here," mattheo observed, picking up a fallen ornament. "but where did she go?"

blaise pointed to a few scattered snowflakes that floated gently in the breeze. "magic residue. she's been using some spells."

draco frowned, scanning the landscape. "we need to think like y/n. where would she go for some solitude and fresh air?"

pansy suddenly gasped. "the abandoned classrooms near the dungeons! she used to go there all the time to study in peace."

the group nodded in agreement, a renewed sense of purpose guiding their steps. as they approached the secluded classrooms, faint strains of a soft melody reached their ears.

"is that... christmas music?" enzo asked, surprised.

they cautiously entered the room, and there you were, surrounded by the christmas decorations you had taken with you. a small enchanted music box played a comforting tune, and you turned around, a mix of surprise and relief in your eyes.

"hey, guys," you greeted, a weak smile playing on your lips.

"what's going on, y/n?" draco asked, concern etched on his face.

you took a deep breath. "i'm sorry for worrying you all. i found out this morning that my grandma was unwell, and I needed a moment to process it. but she's better now."

relief washed over the group, and mattheo stepped forward, offering a comforting hug. "we were so worried about you."

pansy smiled. "we thought you were kidnapped or something."

You chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "no, just needed some time to clear my head."

blaise, always the joker, conjured a small bouquet of flowers. "for grandma chrissie" he smiled "please let her know i'm thinking of her and wishing for her to get well soon"

you accepted them with gratitude, smiling about the fact that blaise was still an absolute fan of your grandma.

"how about some cheering up?" draco suggested

the group gathered the scattered decorations, and together you all returned to the slytherin common room. the atmosphere shifted from worry to warmth as the group cooperated to deck the common room with festive trimmings.

in the glow of the enchanted candles and the laughter of friends, the christmas spirit returned. the slytherins rallied around you, playing games and sharing stories late into the night. and that night you were reminded that no matter what, you could always rely on your friends.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @prettyb1tchsblog @anonnreader777 @unluckyy @novelizt @ahead-fullofdreams @claradelage

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott headcanons #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin group #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson #pansy x reader #slytherin #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter fandom #lizzyschristmascalenderspecial

[moralesluvr]

JUST YOU AND ME | MORALES ❥

♡ pairings & aus: miles morales x fem!afrolatina!reader ♡ summary: miles is late to your date again, even after you've called numerous times. is his excuse really a good one, or have you had enough? ♡ warnings: miles being secretive, reader being all sad, a little angst with a happy ending! ♡ a/n: first miles fic! lmk how you like it! ♡ got a request? | masterlist in the works! ♡

YOU LOOKED IN the mirror with piercing eyes, judgingly nitpicking your third outfit choice of the night. Your arms fell by your sides in defeat, a freshly manicured thumb slipping into the waistband of your onyx Dior skirt. Although you were sure you could’ve found a better outfit, time was plotting against you, Twirling on your heel, you examine your final choice of outfit before your lips curl into a merely satisfied knot, “It’ll do.” 

Strutting over to your closet, you quickly grab a pair of knee-tall, heeled boots, along with your leather jacket and a silver bag. Anxiety courses through your veins when your reminder goes off on your phone, Siri’s monotone voice reading aloud- “Date with Miles, 6:30 pm.”

A string of curses tumble off your lips as you hurriedly sat on the half-deflated bean bag chair that was tossed in the corner of your room for a reason. You unzipped your boots, slipping them on quickly before requesting that Siri call your boyfriend while you tried to scavenge for your keys. 

“Calling ‘Mi corazón.’” Siri announced, the poorly spoken Spanish filling your ears. You chuckled as the phone rang, nimble fingers wrapping around your car keys and the keychain that Miles got for you. It was a picture of you two hugging in black in white, the back reading, “I love you.”

“Hello?” You heard your lover groggily mumble from the other side of your room. 

“Hey baby!” You shouted from afar, slipping your bag onto your shoulders, “You about ready to go? You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

You heard Miles grumble, accompanied with shuffling of sheets, “Uh, no, no- of course not, mi amor. Me levantaré, lo prometo.” 

“I BELIEVE YOU, BUT MILES, PLEASE DON’T BE LATE.” You whispered, mouth moving only scarcely as your top row of teeth sank into your bottom lip. You walk over to your nightstand and scoop your phone up, holding it up your ear, “Please. This is our fifth rescheduled date.”

“I know, I know,” Miles murmurs, “Lo siento, mami- I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Oh? You promise? I better see you in thirty, then.” You almost chuckle, but the seriousness strained in your voice overpowered the comedic aspect of your statement. You blew a kiss into the phone, “Te amo. Leaving now.”

“Te amo tambien.” Miles says, the line going dead.

You stuff your phone into your purse and head for your front door, calling out to whomever was home that you were going out and should be back before ten. You shut the door behind you, stepping out into the spring sun, its bright aura soaking every inch of your skin. You smile, walking over to your car and getting inside.

You slam your car door shut, waltzing over to the fancy restaurant that awaited before you. The lights inside were dimmed with elegance, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling that shone brightly atop minimalistically decorated tables. You opened the door to the place as two women dressed in all black greeted you with bright smiles and preppy ‘Hello!’s. 

“Hi, I have a reservation tonight for two at 7:00?”

The blonde out of the two checks her iPad, nodding when she sees your reservation, “Y/N, correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Right. Follow me, please!”

You stay close behind the girl as she leads you to your table. She gestures for you to sit, “Here you are. My name is Mimi if you need anything, I’ll be back to take your order when the other person gets here. Enjoy!”

You smile at her as you sit down, “Thank you so much.”

She disappears into the darkness behind the restaurant while you wait idly, fingers tapping against the soft material of the table’s cloth. The clock on the wall reads 6:47, meaning that Miles has exactly thirteen minutes before he’s officially late. Or, right on time. 

Minutes pass, each second feeling like half of an eternity. You reach for your purse that rests on your chair, your fingers wrapping around your phone. You fish it out and click on Miles’ contact, bringing the device up to your ear. 

You expect him to answer, to be on the other side of the phone, to ask where you were sitting because he was already there. Ready to make it up to you.

But instead, his voicemail rang through your ears. You were worried at this point– what else could he possibly be doing?

You click on the messaging app, eyelashes batting in an attempt to blink away the tears that were brimming in the underskirts of your eyes. 

[you] to mi corazón: hey where are you?  [you] to mi corazón: miles?  [you] to mi corazón: it’s like 7:10. are you in traffic or sum? lmk read.

Your jaw swung open when you saw that he left you on read. Was he mad at you? Was it a family emergency? Why was he blowing you off? 

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour. You waited up for him in hopes that he would walk through those doors dressed up, flowers in hand, telling you why he was late for your date that he promised he wouldn’t be late to or miss. 

But that never happened.

You had already eaten and paid by the time the clock hit half past eight. You rose out of your seat and bid the friendly waitresses adieu, slipping a twenty onto the front counter on your way out. 

Your heart was breaking in your chest. This was now the sixth time that Miles had blown you off on a date, and you were fed up with the apologies that had no meaning or a valid excuse. On the way home, all your happy memories with your boyfriend flashed before your eyes. All the times he held you, comforted you, kissed you. Did all those things even matter now? Clearly not.

When you unlocked the door, your mother was propped up on a chair at the island, glasses on the tip of her nose as she read. Her eyes drifted to your sad ones as you walked in.

“¿Estás bien mija?” She cocked her head to the side, “Where’s Miles?”

Sighing, you sunk into the velvety cushions of your couch, “I don’t know, mama, he blew me off again.”

“Ese niño…I’m sorry, mija.”

You give her a downturned smile as you rise to your feet, “It’s okay, really, I think I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

Your mother starts to say something, but you’re already halfway up the stairs before she can even get the first word out. You slam your door shut and the tears immediately fall, warming your cheeks.

Throwing your bag onto your bed, you unzip your boots with a sniffle, tossing them onto your oh-so-useless beanbag. You slip out of your jacket and throw that on top of the boots, plopping onto your bed.

You felt hopeless.

You curled up into a ball for what seemed like hours on end, scrolling through social media mindlessly in an attempt to distract you from today’s earlier events, although all you could think about was Miles. 

You slipped underneath your throw blanket and closed your eyes before you heard two familiar voices sounding from your living room.

“...ten cuidado mijo. Creo que está molesta, pero yo también lo estaría.”

“Yo entiendo. ¿Puedo ir a verla?” 

You perked up when you heard your boyfriend’s voice. Why was he here? It was nearly eleven o'clock.

“Sí, pero si está durmiendo, no la molestes. Ella te quiere, lo sabes. Cuida, por favor.”

The air is thick with silence for a moment before you hear footsteps approach your bedroom door. You curl up into a ball and contemplate whether or not you were going to let your boyfriend in, or pretend to be asleep.

Two soft knocks sound from the other side of your door, “Amor? Hey, it’s me…Miles. Are you asleep? Espero que no…” he mutters the last part.

You sigh, starting for the door sheepishly, your fingers turning the knob as you opened the door.

His eyes immediately met yours. They were a little red, and at first, you didn’t notice the purple bruise forming on the outskirts of his eye. You bring your fingers up to it slowly, and he flinches when you touch him.

“Miles, come here.” You murmured, walking into your bedroom and plopping onto your bed. He follows, shutting the door behind him. He crawls next to you, arms open, ready to engulf you in his embrace– but you just stare at him half-heartedly.

“I know–”

“Explain.” You cut him off, “Now.”

He sighs, “Mami…I know I owe you one. It wasn’t right for me to blow you off, but somethin’ came up and I really couldn’t get out of it. For real.”

Your fingers come up to rub your temples out of stress and annoyance, your lack of patience showing through your blank expression. 

“I’m trying to understand, but this isn’t making any sense. No me mientas, por favor. Just tell me the truth and I won’t be mad, swear.” You huffed, waiting on him to give you the truth that you had been waiting for since months ago. All this time being wasted, all these promises coming to the surface as lies, all these–

“I’m Spider-Man.”

The sentence shocks you so bad that you almost throw up. Your eyes stretch into the size of saucers, “You what?”

“I’m..Spider-Man.” Miles repeats. You think it’s a practical joke by the way he just said it so blunt, but something about his demeanor screamed that he was telling the truth. You cock your head to the side, “Dios…you better explain this to me right now!”

Miles nearly whines your name to get you to stop overreacting. You’re nearly fuming, and nervous and confused all at once– so honestly, who could blame you?

“I was bitten by some weird spider when I was painting a while ago. And then basically, I got all these sick spider powers, and that’s why I’m always gone. I’m sorry– I should’ve told you earlier, but I just wanted to protect you, precioso.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. The random disappearances, the bruises and cuts, the not-so-hidden suit that you accidentally found around October. It was Miles’ lucky day, because he said that it was just a “late minute backup costume” for Halloween. 

“Oh..I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” You murmured, scooching closer to your boyfriend. You brought your hand up to his eye again, and this time, he didn’t flinch. Your thumb grazed his eyelid, “Stay and hold me? No spider stuff tonight?”

“No spider stuff tonight, cariño.” He wraps his arms tightly around you as you bury your head in his chest, legs intertwined in between his, “Just you and me.”

Your eyelashes bat before you find yourself falling asleep, the last thing you feel being Miles’ lips plant a soft kiss onto your forehead.

my taglist is open if you would like to join it! just send me a message or an ask <3 have a good day!

#spiderman #spiderman into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x black!reader

[heavqn]

coriolanus snow x fem!reader (1.5K words)

it’s easy to get caught up in his trap. if you’re not careful, you’re gonna get snatched right up.

“Coryo! I cannot find my dress. Did you move it?” His eyes rolled. Why on Earth would he touch her dress? It’s not like he was gonna wear it. He replied, “No, I did not. You might consider checking other rooms rather than scavenging through the same one over and over.”

The slight tinge of attitude didn’t go unnoticed by his wife, but she said nothing. She knew it was in their shared closet; she had set it at the front of the rack herself just before bed. His attitude wasn’t the only thing she ignored. She progressed through the rows of clothing hung up on her side, determined to prove him wrong.

She didn’t understand where this sudden urge to be right came from but she pushed that thought back. The interview was in half an hour. She had approximately ten minutes to get her dress found and on before they had to leave. Traffic in the Capitol at this hour was hell, even for the President and his Lady.

Coriolanus was ready to leave. He hated waiting and he also hated having to repeat himself. Two things he was currently enduring. “Have you checked the guest room?” His tone was harsh and lacked any true concern for his wifes current state.

She was clearly distressed and a little help with less criticism from her husband would ease her. “No I did not. I know I put it in here. I’m not daft.” He felt his hands subconsciously curl into a fist by his side. He had never entertained thoughts of harming his wife until now. Her incompetence and lack of common sense infuriated him to no extent.

He saw the mess she had made of their shared closet and felt himself getting closer to that line of violence. That was a space for the both of them and she had destroyed it. Who does she think she is? This was the President’s house. Not some low-life district cabin.

Instead of indulging his oh-so-pleasant thoughts at the moment, he walked to the guest room adjacent to his own. To no surprise, the dress in its lacey, red entirety was hung in the closet. With no other thoughts besides getting the hell out of the house, he snatched the dress from its place and brought it back to his wife.

She sat atop the considerably small pile of clothes she had pulled from the hangers and drawers; mascara running and a hideous brown dress flared out by her sides. She had given up any hope of finding the dress when she saw Coriolanus come in earlier out of the corner of her eye.

She didn’t even want to attend the interview anymore. She looked crazy and the dress didn’t do much to help that. He would agree. The brown wasn’t a pleasing dark color; it was light and slightly irritating to the eyes. He swore at that moment he’d have that dress burned whilst they were out.

She heard him before she saw him. His black, polished shoes clacked against the hardwood flooring of their home as he approached her. “I can’t find it. I looked through the whole closet multiple times.” Her voice was soft in volume but hoarse. Her throat was itchy and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d failed at the one thing she was responsible for: getting dressed.

When no response or acknowledgment was returned, she looked back up at him. And there it was. She stood hurriedly, grabbing the dress from his grasp. “Where was it?” “In the guest room.”

“How did it get in there?” “I don’t know.” She gave him a quizzical look, trying to decipher whether or not he was being honest. She decided on the latter. His lack of words tipped her off. Coriolanus wasn’t a talkative man, but in the privacy of their own home, he was never so quick and dismissive with her.

“Why did you move it?” Her question earned a scoff and the shake of his head. “Can you just change so we can–” “No, I will not. Not until you’re honest.” She stayed glued in her spot, arms crossed as she waited for him to speak.

“Why would I move your dress? What possible motive could I have to do so?” He pushed back. His words ran through her head and she found herself shorthanded. Though it was at this moment she had a realization: Coriolanus Snow was never wrong.

“Because you always have to be right!” The sudden boom of her voice startled him but he didn’t show it. Typical. “I can’t even complain about my food without you stepping in to try and reprimand me like a child.”

He laughed. He fucking laughed at her. “I can’t tell whether or not you’re being serious. Are you still upset over the steak?” “Yes, I am! Because it was fucking co–” “It was not–” “It was MY FOOD. I KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG WITH IT.”

The silence that fell over them held a new found awkwardness and tension. He could hear the in and out of her breath, watching as her chest heaved up and down. Coriolanus wasn’t frightened often, but right now he sure as hell was.

They never fought. He was in new territory but he couldn’t let that stop him from standing his ground. He wasn’t lying about the dress. He knows there are times where he can be a bit dismissive of her problems but he’s the President. He has more important things to worry about; however, he wouldn’t dare speak that out loud.

“I didn’t move your dress. I suppose it could’ve been the maid.” He spoke with a sense of genuinity. It was hard to tell what was real and what was fake. Coriolanus was a charming man but he couldn’t twist his way out of this. Not when it's happened so many times, unrecognized.

She huffed. She hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath as she waited for his answer. It must’ve been a habit at this point. “I know my issues may seem insignificant to yours and that’s fine; I���ve come to accept that. But as your wife, you owe me your word. I don’t know what this marriage means to you, what I mean to you, but to me, you mean the whole world. I ask very little of you so I am asking you here and now, did you move the dress?”

“No.” She broke down. Hysterical sobs as she fell to the floor once again. How could he stand there and lie straight to her face? “Do not cry. You have no means to cry. I’m giving you my word; I did not move that dress. Why can’t you believe me?” He got down on his knees, cradling her face in his hands as he moved to wipe her falling tears with his thumbs. “Don’t you trust me?”

She looked up at him. Her eyes were watering but not as much anymore, and her cheeks held the plump redness due to her sudden outburst. She said not a word. The sudden yell for the maid rang heavy in her ears.

When she appeared at the doorway of their closet, she was dismissed as quickly as she had come. “You’re fired.” Coriolanus offered no further explanation as the maid stood there, dumbfounded at the sudden dismissal.

After she was escorted away, Coriolanus resumed his position in front of his wife. “Did that mean anything to you?” He asked her. “You did that to save your own ass. You only care about you. About being on top and in control. So no, Coriolanus, that didn’t mean anything to me.”

“I would sacrifice the whole world if it meant you were happy. I’d take out all of Panem just to make you smile. You are my biggest ‘what if’. Everything I do, I do it with the thought of you. I don’t know how you are so unaware of that.”

His declaration had her heart pounding. Coriolanus rarely even said he loved her. She had lost all feeling besides guilt. Guilt because how was she so naive? He is her husband. He wouldn’t lie to her. How blind must she be that she can’t even realize that?

“I’m sorry.” He smiled gently at her. “Nothing to apologize for. Mistakes happen.” He stroked her hair, twirling it once he got to the end. “It’s so easy to get lost in what we want, so much so that we forget who we’re hurting. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, did you?” She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes because of how she had hurt him. She was cruel.

He pulled her into a hug. Her face found comfort in the crevice of his neck as he rocked her back and forth, shushing her like a child. “As long as you are my wife, there is no need to think. I will tend to your every need. You don’t need anything or anyone else besides me,” He pulled her face to level it with his, looking straight into her eyes.

“Okay?” “Okay.”

—

feel free to send reqs/prompts!

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tbosas #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coryo<3

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

Happy Birthday!

Pairings: Larissa Weems x witch!reader

Warning: Fluff

Summary: Its Larissa's birthday so you decide to surprise her

Author's not: Just a quick early birthday piece in honor of Gwen's birthday!

I woke up at 4 am. Seeing Larissa still sleeping, I got ready for my eventful day. I hastily grab my phone, keys, and wallet and left the room but not before kissing her on the cheek.

Once I got in my car I started driving to Jericho where I had ordered Larissa a bunch of small gifts to put everywhere in our shared room and office.

An hour later when I have gathered all my gifts I wanted for Larissa to have I started to make my way back to Nevermore. I look out the window into the sky seeing the sun start to rise meaning Larissa would be up soon since she has to work. I doubt that women even remembered her birthday is today.

After a quick 10 mins, I flicked my wrist causing all of the gifts to float and follow me. When I got to Larissa's office I saw on the clock I still had 30 mins before she woke up. So I quickly started to use my magic to hide the small gifts I got for her in her office and then would hide some others were we usually go to regularly or somewhere that means a lot to her.

Twenty minutes later I have finished hiding half of the gifts in her office and decided to write a little note, letting her know that there were more for her in some special places. Making it like a scavenger hunt for her. Which I thought was fun.

I looked at the time and saw that it was 6 am. Letting me know that it was time for Larissa too wake up so I quickly left her office and went to go and place the other gifts I bought in its places. And decided to hide the last ones in the bedroom during lunch so she wouldn't see me putting them in.

Larissa's pov:

My eyes slowly flutter open, my body instinctively trying to snuggle into Y/n. But she wasn't there. All I felt were cold sheets letting me know that they woke up a lot earlier then me which was strange because they always woke up late.

I then started to worry if something bad happened to them since they never wake up this early at all, but it also confused me deeply.

I then just sighed a got up out of bed and started to get ready for the day. I walked over to the closet and saw the cream color dress that Y/n loved to see me in. Since they said it makes my look beautiful. I decided to wear it since their compliments always made me feel so confident throughout the whole day.

Then I slipped into the dress, feeling very confident. I went over to my vanity and started doing my makeup and putting my hair in its signature updo.

Once I finished getting ready I saw it was 7:15 am. I then got up from up from my vanity chair and sighed. Still wondering where Y/n is since they never just disappear in the mornings. They aren't an early bird either.

I stood up and put on some cream color kitten heels and headed out of my office, knowing that I don't have a lot of work today so I can finish early and spend a lot of time with Y/n once I find them/

I stride out of my shared bedroom that is connected to my office. When I entered I immediately notice something different about my office. I then saw a letter that was written by Y/n. Instantly know thing that was their neat cursive hand writing.

I opened the letter and started to read what the contents said.

Dear Rissa,

I know you must be wondering where I am since I wasn't there when you woke up, but I had a few matters to take care of and just wanted to let you know. There is also something different about the office, and our special spots. Do not worry about working today since I have already done everything that you have needed to take care of today.

I hope you will have fun!

Your Darling

When I have finished reading the letter I felt myself starting to smile like an idiot. They have planned something for me and I don't know what. They also did all my work which is oddly suspicious since they always complain about working.

I tried to rack my brain of why they would do this but nothing came to me, so I just decided to play their little game so I started looking around my office. Immediately noticing on my chairs in-front of my desk.

It was a perfume I have always wanted but it just kept selling out and I now had five of them. I then pondered how Y/n was able to get this since they were always sold out but I decided to ask them later.

On the other chair I saw some books that I have always wanted because they were from my favorite author. It only has been published yesterday and yet again. I pondered how they were able to get this. I picked up one of the books and opened it, seeing that it was signed by the author herself. I then checked the other books seeing that they were also signed as well.

I started to smile once again at their gestures that they have showed me today and its only 8 am in the morning. I then started to look around my office more, looking for some more gifts from Y/n.

Our pov:

"Ok! So today is Principal Weems's birthday. As you all may know, so in honor of her birthday I have decided to throw her a surprise party. I know this is last minute but we have seven hours to decorate and I have told all the teachers and we all agreed to do this. So in order to finish the surprise party in time we decided to have no classes today!" I said to the students which made them cheer and start to chant my name. Putting a smile on my face. I then quickly shushed them, worried that Larissa would hear them.

They then quieted down, also expressing their concerns on getting caught. I then started telling everyone the plan.

Hours later and everyone already had lunch. Larissa had just went back into her office. I was sad that I couldn't eat dinner, breakfast, and lunch with her since I've been organizing stuff for her birthday. It is now currently 8 pm. So in two hours the students would have to go back to their dorms since they would be passing their curfews.

Once we made sure that everything was in place I went to go get Larissa. I knocked on her office doors. I opened the doors once I heard her yell a soft, "get in!"

"Rissa!" I squealed a bit. She looked up at me once she heard her nickname that I call her.

"Hey my darling, where have you been I've been worried sick about you since I haven't seen you for almost 14 hours. Which is too long being away from you!" She grumbled and outed slightly towards the end of her rambling.

"Im sorry Rissa, but did you like my little scavenger hunt for you?" I asked excitedly.

"Oh darling they were wonderful! And I love them all so much! But what is with all these gifts? Because I don't think its a special occasion since I usually remember these types of things." Said Larissa in a confused tone.

"Yes, but I do have one more surprise for you!" I said excitedly, before dragging her out to the quad where it was pitch dark.

"There is nothing here but darkness dear?" Larissa softly said to me.

All of a sudden lights were flipped on and there was a huge banner saying;

"Happy Birthday Principal Weems!"

Students and teachers were singing happy birthday to Rissa. I looked over at her and I can see her overcome her shock and started to smile widely.

"Happy Birthday," I whispered softly before kissing her.

#larissa x you #larissa weems #larissa x reader #hot principal #principal weems #wednesday #netflix #birthday #larissa weems x y/n #Larissa Weems #gwendolineuniverse #larissa x y/n #Happy Birthday Gwen! #nevermore academy #gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie

[honey-beann]

💞

Sweet Victory

Connor x Reader Fluff

💕 - Kisses

Note: Okay look, I genuinely thought I hadn't gone that far over on this one until I put it in the word counter, so no judgement allowed! (For those of you who might not know this was supposed to be a 200-600 word drabble and I failed hard at keeping to that limit).

So, with that said, here is this request fulfilled with a word count far higher than I had initially anticipated (sorry, I apparently have no self-control).

A huge thanks to the Anon who requested this, and I hope everyone enjoys this random fluff fic!

Word Count: 2,534

Okay, so maybe you could be a little bit competitive at times. Was that really such a crime?

Sure, this was supposed to be some children's event designed to help the DPD gain favor amongst the younger generation of Detroit Citizens, but what were you supposed to do, just let your teammate down? Hell no, if you were in it, you were in it to win it, and that was a fact.

"Okay, remind me of what we have left to find?"

You asked Louisa, the eight year old girl walking alongside you, who you had only just met twenty minutes earlier.

Prior to the notice you'd received just this morning, you'd had absolutely no idea about the fact that kids were coming into the DPD today, let alone that you would be paired with one for their little scavenger hunt (and that may have showed in how unprepared and unsure you seemed).

That said, somehow, you had ended up with the most understanding third grader of all time, which you found yourself incredibly grateful for.

"Uh..."

Louisa checked her paper before continuing,

"It says we need to get warning citations written by an officer who isn't on duty right now, find where the Captain hides the donuts until after precinct meetings, and get something one of a kind from one of the detectives."

You raised a brow at that last one,

"One of a kind?"

You questioned looking down to see Louisa nodding in response as she looked down at the sheet in front of her.

"Yup. It says that at the end of the scavenger hunt Officers Miller and Chen will decide together who got the most unique item, and that that team will get points for the category."

"Huh, okay then."

You said, shrugging a bit before smiling down at your new friend,

"How about we go grab us some donuts?"

Five minutes and one trip to the storage closet later, and you and Louisa were making your way towards Chris Miller's desk, where you slid him his favorite powdered sugar confection before giving him your best (most pleading) smile.

"Wanna write us some citations, Officer Miller?"

You asked politely, watching as Chris looked down at the treat in front of him before looking back up at you and your partner with a slightly guilty looking smile.

"No can do, judges can't participate in the competition."

You groaned under your breath, shooting a nervous grin down to Louisa before you began scanning the bullpen with your eyes, looking around for another off duty officer while cursing yourself for never paying attention to the officer duty schedule.

That is, until your eyes landed on a familiar face.

Connor, everyone's favorite rk800 (or maybe that was just a you thing) was just sitting at his desk, all but begging to be interrupted by your shenanigans.

Instantly, you started making your way toward him, motioning for Louisa to follow you as you did so.

"Hey, you forgot your donut!"

Chris called after you, causing you to simply shake your head in response, a rather cheeky looking grin spreading across your face as you briefly turned to look at him.

"Don't need it."

Within moments, you were stood beside Connor's desk, hands clasped politely in front of you as you tried your best not to look as devious as you felt.

Immediately, the android looked up at you, a familiarly soft smile forming on his lips as he opened his mouth to speak, though he notably faltered when his eyes fell to the eight year old beside you.

"Good morning Detective, is there something I can help you with?"

He asked politely, his demeanor immediately making you smile ever so slightly.

"Hey Con, can I ask you a favor?"

The android in question seemed to perk up at your words, tilting his head as he turned his chair to face you and your new partner properly.

"Well I can certainly try. What can I assist you two with?"

You blushed ever so slightly at the sight of him as he turned to face you, trying your best not to make how good you thought he looked in that perfectly tailored dress shirt too obvious.

Thankfully, Louisa clearing her throat beside you brought you back to reality, and you quickly answered.

"We need an off duty officer to write us warning citations, but I can't remember the officer schedule for today. Did you happen to take a look at it anytime recently?"

Connor hummed, his LED briefly going yellow before slowly circling back to it's typical stagnant blue.

He nodded.

"According to the schedule, Officers Brown and Person are both off duty for the afternoon."

Your eyes scanned the room once more before they finally fell on Person, who sat at her desk, tapping away at her keyboard.

You grinned at Connor, fighting the urge to hug him as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

"Awesome, thanks Con!"

You enthused,

"I'll be sure to pay for lunch tomorrow to make it up to you."

The android in question smiled but shrugged his shoulders,

"I'm always happy to be of assistance, Detective, with or without incentive."

With that, he bid the two of you farewell before turning back towards his desk and continuing whatever he'd been doing prior to your (all too welcome) interruption.

Meanwhile, you and Louisa set off toward Officer Person's desk, which was when Louisa spoke up again.

"Was that your boyfriend?"

She asked, causing you to startle a bit before laughing nervously.

"Uh..."

You trailed off, looking over your shoulder slightly to glance at Connor once more.

The man had super hearing, and would therefore probably hear what you were about to say, but if you thought too hard about that the words would never come, so you just pretended he was too distracted to listen properly.

"Kind of. We've gone on a few dates together."

Louisa smiled and nodded,

"Yeah, I thought so."

Your cheeks reddened slightly at her comment, but you pressed onward nonetheless until finally, you made it to Officer Person's desk, where you were immediately regarded with an almost taunting eyebrow raise.

"Did I see you using lover boy over there to your advantage?"

She teased as she pulled her citation notepad out of her desk, writing your name at the top without even having to ask any of the spelling details.

You blanched.

"Oh hush, Person, who else was I supposed to ask? He has a literal connection to the database in his brain."

The woman in front of you shrugged, but her grin remained persistent nonetheless.

"Whatever you say, Detective, I just thought the first kiss came a stage before asking for personal favors. But hey, I could be wrong."

She finished up your citation and ripped it away from the rest of her note pad with a flourish before handing it to you and shifting her attention towards Louisa.

"Now what's your name?"

She asked.

You rolled your eyes at your friend and coworkers antics, looking down at your citation with a sigh only to be met with an absolutely humiliating sight.

Under infraction, Person had put 'Not kissing by the fifth date despite previously verbalized intentions to do so'.

You groaned internally, glaring down at your still seated friend as she finished up Louisa's warning citation, which cited that she was 'Stealing the hearts of Detroit's finest left and right'.

She handed it to the young girl with a kind smile before turning her attention back to you, satisfaction written all over your face.

"Anything else you need, Detective? I could give you some courage for your next outing with -"

"I think we're all set, thanks Person."

You muttered through gritted teeth, watching as she simply laughed before giving you a nod and waving the two of you off.

"Well in that case you'd better get moving then, the scavenger hunt ends in five."

You felt your eyes widen at that, and you cursed quietly before looking around the room.

Your brain struggled to conjure up the image of anyone who could provide you with that final artifact, something so unique it was guaranteed to win. Something that was truly one of a kind.

At that, your mind abruptly brought your thoughts to Hank, the lieutenant detective like no other (because no other could ever get away with doing the things he did).

Spotting him just outside the break room, you hurried over, offering him a quick greeting before getting straight down to business. The clock was ticking after all.

"Hey Hank, got any unique items on ya?"

You asked, gesturing to Louisa at your side as your only explanation.

Hank sighed, clearly having been asked this question more than once this morning.

You bristled a bit at this, realizing that maybe asking Hank had been a bit too obvious of a choice.

Still, what other options did you have now with only two minutes left?

"C'mon Lieutenant, anything?"

You all but pleaded, watching as Hank sighed and pulled a gold plated DPD pen out of his pocket.

"Jeffrey bought one of these for each high ranking officer like fifteen years ago. As far as I know, he and I are the only ones left that still have one."

You cheered a bit at the win, thanking Hank profusely before walking over to the crowd of waiting students and precinct workers to see who would be crowned the winner once items were handed in.

Except as you stood with your partner at your side, you couldn't help but notice something shiny sticking out of Gavin's pocket.

"Hey Reed!"

You called out without thinking, catching the attention of the aforementioned officer immediately.

"What?"

He replied snidely, never having been your biggest fan.

You ignored his tone.

"What'd you get for your unique item?"

Gavin regarded you with distrust for a moment before he seemed to get over it. He shrugged as he pulled the shiny thing out of his pocket entirely.

"Some pen Jeffrey gave my kid when he asked for a unique item. Said nobody else should have it."

You cursed under your breath, looking down at Louisa to find her staring up at you, the question of 'what do we do now?' obvious in her eyes.

You swallowed thickly, looking around the room at the various officers who were sitting at their desks.

You checked your watch.

Thirty more seconds.

Could you even hope to convince one of them to give you something by then, let alone have them actually find something genuinely one of a kind in so little time?

No, that would take far too long.

So now, you were left with only one option.

"Quick, come with me."

You told Louisa, taking her hand and weaving through the crowd with her, walking as fast as you reasonably could with a child at your side until you reached Connor's desk.

Sensing your urgency, the android stood as you grew closer, worry evident in his expression.

"Detective, is there something wrong? Do you need something?"

He asked, and you fought off the urge to take the additional time to assuage his fears and instead turned to face Louisa.

"Cover your eyes."

You told her firmly, watching as she nodded and did as she was told without question, equally as determined to win as you were, and knowing there was no time for you to clarify.

With that, you turned back to Connor, taking a single deep and shaky breath before speaking.

"Kiss me."

You said, cheeks immediately becoming warm as the man in front of you tilted his head in confusion, his eyes searching yours for any type of answer, or even just an ounce of context.

You looked down at your watch.

10 seconds.

"My apologies, Detective, but what did you just-"

"Con, I swear I'll explain later, but right now I really need you to kiss m-"

You were interrupted by a strong hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you closer, and then suddenly, there were lips, warm and firm, pressing against your own.

You gasped briefly, shocked despite your previous pleas, before melting into the man in front of you, your arms moving to wrap around his neck as he kissed you so sweetly you could have wept.

By the time he pulled away, your face was beet red and your legs felt lie jelly.

Connor smiled nervously down at you, grabbing your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

"I didn't think you would-"

"I figured it out."

He clarified before you could finish, glancing down at the pen in your pocket with a slight smirk.

"No need to clarify."

You nodded almost mindlessly, finding yourself crashing back into reality only when you heard your name get called from the other side of the room.

You snapped to attention, looking over to Chris and Tina, who were both holding back laughter.

"Sorry, what did you guys need?"

You asked, your voice slightly higher in pitch than usual as you struggled to contain your embarrassment.

"We need you to hand in your items."

Chris replied, and you nodded slowly before handing everything to Louisa, following behind her as she rushed back over to the group, immediately giving the judges everything the two of you had collected.

It was then and only then, after they scored the groups based on their initial findings, that they asked about the unique items.

And at that point, everyone began to share.

You thought about leaving, or maybe even just falling off the face of the earth altogether, but in the end when they called your name, you steeled your resolve, opening up your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by Louisa.

"She got a kiss from Detective Connor!"

She shouted giddily, all but dancing on her feet as she spoke, eyes gleaming in a way that told you how much the sight of your budding romance had excited her.

"It was their first kiss and everything!"

You felt your eyes widen at that comment, and in an effort to keep her from saying anything more you started to laugh nervously, watching as the whole room looked towards you, some of them grinning while others regarded you with a raised brow.

"Well, I mean..."

Tina began, chuckling a bit as she turned to her fellow judge to share her thoughts,

"I'm not sure if anything can beat that in terms of uniqueness."

Chris shook his head, smirking amusedly at your thoroughly embarrassed expression as he spoke up,

"You know what Officer Chen? I was thinking the exact same thing."

They looked at each other before nodding, choosing without hesitance to extend your misery.

"I guess that means we have our winners!"

They shouted together, causing the entire group to clap as you attempted to sink into the floor beneath your feet, far too nervous to look up and see the expressions of those around you.

Gee, this was gonna be a fun one to explain to the captain during your lunch break today.

'But hey', you thought as you looked down at Louisa's smiling face.

'At least we won'.

masterlist

AO3

#dbh x reader fluff #dbh x reader #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #dbh fics #request #c: connor

[lingerina]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 // day four

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 ➤ toys/strap 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ➤ 1.2k words 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➤ mean dom succubus!winter x fem!reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ tail fcking, monster fcking, overstimulation, squirting 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ there are pros and cons to being friends with someone who hunts the paranormal for a living. 𝐀/𝐍 ➤ i know i’m so far behind. i’m trying to catch up but i caught up in some plans this week. i’m gonna try to keep going especially since i give up easily lol. this is probably my favorite one so far? i just love spooky things lol i hope y’all enjoy this too ♡

Being acquainted with someone who’s heavily involved in ghost hunting and summoning the dead always sparked a bit of concern, but never up to this level.

They had just landed after flying out of the country for a week and swung by your residence to return something they had borrowed. They briefly stepped into the house for water, a short conversation, and to give you a souvenir from their travels. Ever since that day, you’ve felt like they had given you more than just a necklace.

You’ve bravely searched your closet, your bathroom, and all the corners and crevices of your bedroom to ensure that no one has made a home of your home. You could never shake off the feeling that you were being watched. As you were becoming more cautious of your home, things gradually escalated to shadow figures in your peripheral view and random knocks on the walls and ceilings.

Three knocks.

Things would sometimes be out of place if you really thought about it. The bottle of cleanser would end up from the bathroom counter to the sink. Your fuzzy slippers that were on the left side of your bed were found on the other side the next morning. The pair of earrings that you left on your nightstand would show up in a drawer after twenty minutes of scavenging for it.

But continuously denying that there was a presence in your living space ramped up the activity. 

Items started to be thrown across the room right in front of you. You’d find lipstick streaks all over the mirrors, chairs would be haphazardly tossed around when you came home, and cabinet doors slamming open would disrupt your already-troubled slumber.

You hear the cabinets again. Still, you choose to ignore it. You shut your eyes, fist your covers in a tighter grip, and pull it over your head in an attempt to go back to sleep. Not a second later, they are immediately torn off you and you scream, the darkness concealing whatever intruder has found their way into your home.

But your screams are immediately gagged when a phallus is shoved into your mouth, causing you to heave and reach out to push the intruder off. Despite exerting all your strength against them, they don’t budge. It’s as if they’re a concrete wall because they somehow shove the phallus deeper into your mouth, forcing your teary eyes to roll back.

Just when you think it’s over for you, they withdraw from you. You’re spared a chance to catch your breath but you grunt when they toss their weight onto you. Following a switch of the lamp on your nightstand, a warm yellow light washes out the darkness to unveil a woman sitting on your abdomen.

Unbelievably gorgeous. Piercing dark eyes looking down at you with a smirk. Sculpted abs, soft tits, and hardened nipples. You don’t miss the sight of your strap-on harnessed around her waist and sitting snugly at her pelvis. As you’re always the one on that end with other women, heat rushes through your limbs and straight to your core at the possibility of you finally receiving what you’ve given others.

Something peeks from behind her.

Dark. Slim. A pointed end.

The sight of a tail catches you off-guard. Only then do you notice the pair of horns that adorn the crown of her head.

The three knocks. The aggressive activity. The faint voices.

It all makes sense.

… Somewhat..

She chuckles. “You can deny me no longer, pretty girl.”

You may be horny but the pretty devil mounted upon you is still a stranger and a creature nonetheless. She reaches for your wrists but you attempt to retaliate, fighting back against her and wriggling to toss her off you. But the tussle is effortless for her, and she remains seated on you as she pins your wrists above your head.

“Who are you?!,” you demand with furrowed eyebrows.

“Winter.”

A light touch flutters over your clothed crotch. Strangely enough, considering both of her hands are binding your wrists.

She dips lower, hovering a mere inch from your face with a smile as the feathery touch slips under your soiled panties. You yearn for touch, but equip a frown to mask your neediness. The last thing you want to do is beg for a demon to fuck you.

Even if the demon is smoking hot.

You rut your hips from side to side, grunting as you continue trying to escape. Your futile attempts only make her giggle. She’s the only one laughing once the pointed tip of her tail slithers between your folds and into your awaiting hole.

As slim as the intrusion is, it’s still an odd sensation. It barely registers in your brain that this woman’s tail is maneuvering inside you, but Winter is delighted by your reaction–or lack thereof.

You’ve discovered the answer to your paranormal problems.

You should be searching up local priests to exorcise your home. You should be seeking shelter elsewhere in the meantime while you try to get help.

But Winter has so far proven to be harmless. The only harm she’s causing is the ruthless pace of her hips as the fake cock harnessed on her abuses your squelching cunt.

With your duvet thrown off the bed, you’re propped on your knees. Your arms are held behind your back with your wrists bound by her hands. Your room reverberates with the solid clashes of silicone against slick flesh, hollowed out by your panting and groaning as she fucks you senseless. Any concerns regarding the demon haunting your residence are railed out of you because how could you ever want her gone when she’s giving you what no human has ever been able to give you?

“Such a pretty baby,” she coos in between pants, grinning as she observes the massive dildo disappearing into you with each thrust. “You want me to stop, hm?”

You shake your head with a sob. “Please, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

“Of course you don’t. Whore.”

Winter spares no mercy. She may have a dainty build, but she has the strength of a machine. Her hips don’t slack, despite the multiple orgasms she has already put you through, and your inability to shut your legs on her is why they start violently trembling. You’re certain you’re about to slip off your knees because your body is acting out due to the mind breaking ecstasy that looms over you once more. You ball your hands into fists, moaning and crying out. Once you see stars, the dam bursts a final time and you soak the sheets beneath you.

Your release is plentiful. Plenty enough to eject the dildo. You sink down into the cushioned surface, twitching and shuddering. There’s no longer a grip on your wrists, and you subconsciously seize the liberty of moving your hands to your pillow. 

The mattress gradually rises as Winter slides off and stands next to your bed. Gentle strokes of your hair lulls you to dreamland, but you fight back the slumber for a minute to watch her as she steps back.

“Goodnight, darling,” she bids with a less devilish grin. “I’ll visit again soon.”

One blink, and she’s gone with the wind. The energy that once fueled the threatening activity in your home has now settled. It’s finally tranquil, as if it was never haunted in the first place.

For once, you can finally fall asleep.

#girl group smut #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group imagines #aespa imagines #winter imagines #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[zepskies]

Devour Me - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: This is a two-part sequel to “Midnight Espresso!” I would read that one first before you dive into this one. (It’s fun, I promise!)

Word Count: 3,800 Tags/Warnings: Supernatural shenanigans, tiny bit of body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluffy fluff, and a cliffhanger...

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: "A Takeover"

When Dean asked you to move in with him, he really didn’t think it would come to this.

Clearing a nightstand for you, half of the dresser, a section of his closet. Those things are reasonable. 

But this is a total takeover, he thinks, as he surveys the sheer amount of crap you’ve brought into his room.

Mind you, despite this still being a bunker, the décor is nice. You brought in sturdy, but stylish wicker baskets for his pile of cassettes (and your CDs) next to the TV, filing bins for the haphazard shuffle of papers on his desk, installed dark wood shelves on the wall for his various weapons and your collection of books. 

But he’d had his music organized—not alphabetically or chronologically, but by his own personal rankings of awesomeness. Now they’re all shuffled together by band name. 

Plus, he likes having his shotgun on the floor by the bed, within reach, not three feet above his head. And where the fuck is his collection of…magazines?

The point is, every time he looks for something, you’ve put it in a different place. Not to mention the damn bathroom (don’t get him started on all your shea butter lotions, makeup brushes, frilly-smelling soaps, and the army of hair products now taking up space in his cabinets and drawers). 

Dean is sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to figure out where the hell his cassette of Zeppelin IV is, when you breeze into the room he now shares with you. You’re dewy with sweat in a Guns & Roses shirt and some yoga pants you reserve for cleaning. 

And that’s another thing. You’re more anal than Sam about having the bunker smelling like Pine Sol. However, as you’ve expressed before (after nagging him to pick up his dirty, and occasionally bloody clothes from the floor), while you like a clean house, you are not in fact the maid.

“Hey, baby. Can you fold these for me?” you request. “I need a shower.”

He raises a brow as you dump a new basket of fresh laundry onto the bed. It looks like you washed your clothes mixed in with his, which he actually doesn’t mind. He fishes out one of your red, lacey thongs with a hint of a smile. He bought you these last week, and they already have a tear. (His fault.)

“By the way, next time you move one of my things, mind leaving me a post-it note or something?” he dryly remarks. “It’s like a scavenger hunt in my own damn room.” 

You pop your head out of the bathroom, though he can tell by your bare shoulders that you’ve already gotten undressed. Your mouth is quirked at the corner. 

“It’s called organization,” you tease. “Apparently a foreign concept to you.”

You disappear back into the bathroom, giving Dean the privacy he needs to grumble almost inaudibly to himself. But then he hears your voice behind the door.  

“Oh, by the way. Your vintage collection of smut is in the bottom of your nightstand,” you call out. “That 1996 edition of Busty Asian Beauties is particularly classy.”

Dean hears the wryness in your tone, and his face actually heats up in embarrassment. He frowns at the bathroom door, his jaw tensing, but he takes a breath. Deciding to let it go with a roll of his shoulders, he puts on the TV to catch up on Dr. Sexy M.D. He also neglects the task you gave him, just for a little while.

When you’re still in the bathroom an hour later, Dean starts to get curious about what the hell you’re doing in there. The shower isn’t even running anymore.

That’s when he hears the hairdryer go on. 

He knows he’ll never be able to concentrate on his show with all that noise. So with a sigh, he clicks off the TV and eyes the pile of laundry. You probably cleaned the whole freaking bunker this morning. Despite his annoyance, he figures folding your clothes along with his own is the least he can do. 

Dean scoops up the pile back into the basket and takes it elsewhere. 

He finds his brother at the kitchen table and joins him with his basket. Sam’s gaze raises from his laptop to meet his brother’s grumpy face. He watches in mild curiosity as Dean plops down across from him and dutifully begins folding one of your shirts. 

“You okay?” Sam hazards the question. 

“Fucking peachy,” Dean replies. “Looking for a new case?”

“Yeah. Nothing yet.” Though Sam raises a brow when Dean all but tosses one of your girly sundresses on the table after it’s folded. (It’s yellow, and it happens to be his favorite on you.)

“Everything all right?” Sam asks. 

Dean glances up, finds his brother’s knowing eyes, and doesn’t have it in him to lie. He lets go of a breath, as well as one of his undershirts to rub at his forehead. 

“She’s nosey, Sam. She’s all up in my business.”

“Your girlfriend?” Sam clarifies, with raised brows. “Of six months.”

“Yeah, that one,” Dean quips, with all due sarcasm. “Ever since she moved in, she’s been going through everything, moving my crap every which way, making it so I can’t find a damn thing.”

Sam’s mouth edges at a smile. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Sam, she’s damn near taken over,” Dean insists. 

“You done?” Sam teases. Dean just leans in, like he’s about to level his brother with a secret. 

“Matter of fact, she locks herself in the bathroom for like, forever. I just heard the hairdryer go on, meaning another hour at least. What the fuck is she doing in there, getting ready for prom?”

Sam finally has to chuckle. “Clearly it’s been a long time since you’ve lived with a woman, Dean.” 

Dean scoffs. “Right.”

“And she’s actually been a big help in cleaning up around here,” Sam says, with a growing smirk. “Which is, quite literally, a refreshing change.”

Dean snorts at that. 

“Of course, you’re happy,” he says. “A new damn dish rack turns you on.”

Sam shoots him a wan look. “The question is, are you happy?”

That manages to take Dean by surprise. He hesitates to answer…

But he’s saved when he hears someone approaching. He knows it’s you because he can smell the mix of your floral soap and coconutty shampoo; it’s a scent that often lingers on your pillow and has unconsciously infiltrated Dean’s nose. 

His reply to Sam dies on his tongue when he sees you.

“Hey,” you greet both men, all bright and smiley with your hair in wild curls down your back. 

A lot of the time you keep your hair straight or loose and wavy, so it’s rare for Dean to see your natural look. It’s a good one for you, he thinks. Along with those jean shorts hugging your curvy hips, and the V-neck top you’re wearing, which offers a nice peek of cleavage. 

Your hand falls on his shoulder, with your thumb stroking his neck. You then brush that hand across his back as you pass by on your way to the kitchen. If possible, you’ve become even more touchy since you two got together.

Dean holds fast to your hand, stopping you in your path. 

“So that’s what you were working on in there,” he remarks. “Thought I was gonna need to break out the fire extinguisher.” 

You grin in amusement and do a little twirl under his hand, shaking out your curls a little.

“You like?” you ask. Dean tugs you back over. He reaches out and fingers at the soft ends of your hair. 

“Beautiful,” he says.

“Looks real nice,” Sam adds.

“Why, thank you.” Your smile is contagious, and Dean can’t help reciprocating. You drop a hand on his shoulder again.

“I know you’re our resident Gordon Ramsay, but I kinda feel like cooking today,” you say. “Is Cas coming home anytime soon?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, he called this morning. Probably dropping back in tonight.”

You nod. “Good! I’ll make plenty then…oh, wait, he doesn’t eat.”

“What did you have in mind?” Sam asks. 

“Well, I know you guys haven’t had much Cuban food, so I thought you might like to try some ropa vieja,” you reply. Sam’s brows knit together. 

“Old clothes?” he translates. His two years of high school Spanish can give him that much.

“Yeah! But it’s basically shredded beef with onions, garlic, tomato sauce, and a bunch of other good stuff,” you explain. Then your eyes brighten. “Oh! And I can make my grandma’s famous black beans, white rice, some bread with crushed garlic and olive oil…”

By the time you finish listing the things you plan on making, Dean is already salivating. 

Later that evening, when Dean actually gets to sample said food, he’s eaten enough for three men in the span of forty-five minutes.

“Jesus, man. Going for a record on indigestion?” Sam cautions him, despite his amusement. 

Dean pointedly ignores his brother to look over at you. After he swallows another forkful of beef stew, he says, “Not for nothin’, this is probably the second-best meal of my entire life.”

“Oh, yeah?” You giggle. “What’s number one?”

“Diner called Slammies in Alabama. Best fucking pie on Earth,” he easily recalls. “Double applewood bacon cheeseburger, chili cheese fries, brick oven pizza. Bar none.” 

Sam inclines his head, remembering the food coma he and Dean had that night. They’d hit the rock-hard pillows at the motel and slept like they’d been on an all-night bender. 

“But this is like, right there,” Dean says to you, leveling his hand up by his head. 

“Well, let’s see if this moves the needle,” you reply as you get up from your seat. You answer the question in his eyes. “Forgot something, hold on.”

But before you can leave the table, Dean reaches over and takes your hand. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. For all of this. I mean it,” he says. 

A soft, genuine smile grows across your face. You lean down and press a tender kiss below his hairline, stroking his cheek before you go. 

Dean quirks a smile. It’s taken him time to get used to how open you are with your affections, but he likes it. All of it. Every time you reach for him, touch him, brush against him, intentionally or not. He always has.

Though he has to resist embarrassment when he notices the way his brother is watching him. Sam raises a brow, smiling that irritating smile of his. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re not happy at all,” he intones.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Dean says defensively. But he perks up when you return. Maybe you’re bringing more garlic bread. 

Instead, you’re holding a tin pan.

“What’cha got there?” he asks.

“Dessert,” you announce. It’s a Cuban flan: creamy, rich custard with a consistency smoother than cheesecake, and thicker than pudding.  

You haven’t even sat back down yet when Dean carves himself a generous slice. He moans when a large forkful melts in his mouth. You start to blush as you watch him with crossed arms and a hand over your smile. You don’t know whether to be amused or flattered.

Sam watches his brother stuff his face with a subtle shake of his head.    

“You’re enabling him,” he tells you. You shrug, but then you rest your hands on both Sam and Dean’s shoulders. 

“Now I have someone to cook for,” you say. You have tears in your eyes, but you quickly blink and try to turn away. Frowning, Dean takes your hand. 

“Hey, where you going?” he says, and aims to pull you into his lap. You hesitate, knowing you’re not going to be able to squeeze between him and the table.  

“It’s okay, these hips don’t fit,” you chuckle wryly, with a sniffle. But Dean just backs his chair up from the table a bit to make room. 

“What’re you talking about? You fit right here,” he says firmly, and he tugs you down. This is the one thing Dean has tried his damndest to break you out of—that self-deprecating streak of yours. 

You finally accept being guided into his lap, where you indeed fit snugly across his thighs. His arm comes around the front to hold you close by your hip, while his other hand rests comfortingly on your back.

Looking up into his eyes, you draw enough courage to be honest. 

“I was mostly raised by my grandma,” you begin to explain. Your father wasn’t ready to be one, and so wasn’t in the picture. Your mother died when you were in high school. So when your grandmother also passed away a few years ago… 

Well, you’ve been alone for a while.

You sniff and wipe at your face, but your eyes close as Dean’s lips press above your brow. When you next open your eyes and cautiously look between the brothers, Sam’s sympathy warms you. 

“If it isn’t obvious, you have a home here,” he says. “We can never replace what you’ve lost, but…we’re your family too.”

You know that Dean feels the same way by the way he brushes the tears from your cheek, thumbing at your bottom lip.

"You're right where you need to be," he says, with a hand squeezing your hip. His sincerity is in his even tone, in the firmness in his eyes.

You’re able to smile a bit.

“Ah…I’m interrupting, aren’t I?”

The three of you turn to the kitchen doorway, where Castiel stands awkwardly. He clearly senses emotional tension, but it breaks the moment you turn to him with a tearful laugh. 

“Hey, Cas. Have you ever eaten ‘old clothes?’” you ask. 

His puzzled expression is absolutely priceless.  

When Sam finds a possible hunt in Hope, Indiana, Castiel agrees to go with you all. It’s a small, corn-fed town in the middle of nowhere, and five people have gone missing over the course of a year. 

The latest is a nine-year-old kid named Andy Campbell. That alone upsets you; if you have one weakness, it’s for kids.

“Local farmers have been reporting dead cattle too, drained of blood,” Sam says from the passenger seat in the Impala. “I’m thinking vampires trying to keep a low profile.”

“Sounds about right, if a bit sloppy,” Dean remarks. They are in the Midwest though. If this is a coven, or even a rogue vamp who’s been here a while, maybe they got lazy. “So what, police station first? Get any details they might’ve missed.”

“I want to talk to the kid’s mom,” you say. It earns Dean’s gaze at you in the rearview mirror. “We can get the last time she saw him, where he went missing, anything she might’ve held back from the police.”

He nods and shares a glance with Sam. “I’ll go with her. You and Cas scope out the station.”

The angel has gotten better at pretending to be a Fed, but not by much. Sam agrees, even though Dean sees in his face that he’d rather be taking his brother. Dean tempers a smile and keeps driving to the closest motel in this dusty town. 

You don a sensible pantsuit to match Dean’s Fed suit, along with your badges: Agents Buckingham and Nicks. 

When Andy’s mom, Rachel Campbell, opens the door of her modest home to you and Dean, he lets you take the lead. You’re good at this part, connecting with the victims and getting them to talk. He sometimes worries about you though—that your soft, sympathetic heart will get the best of you. 

“How long has Andy been missing?” you ask, accepting a cup of tea from the woman. 

Rachel is around your age, maybe a few years older. She looks run down, a shell of a human as she looks at the carpet rather than at you or Dean. You can’t know exactly how she feels, but you have a vivid imagination. 

And from the various pictures of her and Andy on the wall, just the two of them, you deduce that she’s a single mother. Just like your mom had been.

“Almost four months,” she admits. “The police station doesn’t even return my calls anymore.”

That upsets you, but you keep a lid on your emotions to focus on the woman in front of you. 

“Andy’s father, he’s not around?” Dean asks. Rachel shakes her head, confirming your suspicions.

“No, we split up shortly after he was born,” she replies, her tone tired and resigned. “I was at work. I uh, I work at a doctor’s office. Andy was supposed to come home on the bus, like any other day…but he never did.”

She sucks in a shaky breath as the beginnings of tears make her eyes red and glassy. 

“His school couldn’t tell me why he wasn’t on the bus. But one of his friends said he was late getting out of class, so he must’ve tried to walk home. Even though he knew he could call me when that happens…anyway, somebody must’ve grabbed him.”

Rachel looks away as a tear streams down her cheek, followed by another. You feel your throat tighten with a sympathetic burn behind your eyes, but you keep it at bay long enough to set down your tea. You reach out and lay a hand on the woman’s hand. She meets your steady gaze. 

“I promise, we’ll find your son,” you tell her.

“What?” you ask Dean as the two of you leave the small house, walking back to the Impala in the driveway. You just know there’s something up with him by the stoic look on his face. It isn’t so stoic to you. 

He waits until the two of you are in the car before he levels you with a raised brow. 

“Look, I know you want to find this kid. I do too,” he says. “But watch out about making promises you can’t keep.”

You frown back at him. “What’s better, letting that poor woman have no hope at all?”

In his mind, Dean thinks it’s worse to give her false hope. But he sees how stubborn you’re getting, so he doesn’t push it. The fact that you care about people like Rachel is part of what drew him to you in the first place, but there’s a line, he thinks. A point where you can care too much. 

When you two eventually meet up with Sam and Castiel, they’ve been able to confirm from the body of a recent Jane Doe, with a row of lethal bite marks on her wrist, that this is definitely a vamp case. 

After narrowing down where each of the victims were taken, the four of you sketch out a perimeter of where the monsters could likely be hiding. It’s Dean who finds the old barn on the verge of a corn field, about three miles away from the school where Andy was taken. 

You all wait until high noon the next day to scope it out. Looking into the front windows is useless; all evidence points to an empty home.

The back of the barn is another story. Cracking the barn door open reveals a large storage area, where a nest of vampires are sleeping in their beds. Some are coupled off, but you note a few on single beds.

Then, your eyes narrow on the humans sleeping piled together in the corner—three women, a young man, and Andy Campbell on a twin-sized bed of his own.  

Dean carefully closes the barn door, and the four of you regroup back to the Impala.

“It’s a bigger nest than we thought,” Sam says, though he keeps his voice quiet. Dean is already opening the trunk for his favorite machete. 

“First, let’s get those humans out,” he says. You agree with a nod when he hands you a weapon.  

Dean shoots you a wink. “This one’s Brenda.”

“What happened to Lucille?” you ask, taking the knife from him.

“That’s the bat wrapped in barbed wire. Matter of fact, I should break her out.”

Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out the blood-stained bat. He rubs the handle fondly. 

“Ahh, Dad loved this thing.”

You sidle up next to him and glance over wryly. “You want some alone time with your big stick, there?”

Dean flashes you a smirk, giving you a long once over in your form-fitting shirt and jeans. “Well, you’re certainly welcome to join me, sweetheart.” 

You snort in response, bumping into his side with your hip. Dean teasingly bounces one of your curls in your face. You smile and swat his hand away.

Sam subtly rolls his eyes, despite a small smile as he shares a look with Cas.

“All right. Can we go, please?” Sam says in amusement. Castiel awkwardly straps on a machete to his belt. He doesn’t believe he’ll need it, but Sam and Dean are always prepared. He wants to be as well. 

You’re ready to go, but Dean holds you back by your shoulder. You look up at him curiously.

“Hey, follow our lead on this one, okay?” he asks. 

You sense that he’s hedging at something more specific with that request. 

“What do you mean?”  

“The kid. I know you wanna beeline for him the second we get in there, but hold off,” Dean says. His gaze is serious. “He could be turned.”

He got a good look inside, the same as you. The kid was lying on a bed while the other humans were chained up on the floor. Still, you shoot him an incredulous look. 

“Why would they turn a kid?” you ask. “They have the others.”

“Yeah, and they were chained up. Why not him?” Dean asks, imploring you to think logically. He shares a look with Sam, who silently agrees. You look between the brothers with pursed lips. 

“Maybe they don’t give a fuck, because they’re cocky assholes,” you retort. And you walk past them to head back towards the barn. 

The brothers and the angel share one last look, with Dean letting out a subtle breath before he follows you.

You creep back into the barn, as quiet as possible through the room of snoring vampires. The brothers and Castiel go to the sleepy women in the corner. They look dirty and malnourished, wearing threadbare clothing. Sam feels the pulse of the man prone on the floor, but he’s already dead. 

When one of the girls wakes with a whimper, Dean holds his finger to his lips, warning them all wordlessly to be quiet. He looks over and doesn’t find you next to him. He nearly curses out loud when he sees you heading for Andy’s bed across the room. 

Meanwhile, you touch the little boy’s shoulder and shake him a little. He wakes with a small sound of reluctance, but you shush him gently. 

“Andy?” You grasp his shoulders. He nods, though his blonde brows are furrowed with confusion. 

“Who…who are you?” he asks. He rubs at his sleepy brown eyes. 

“I’m here to help,” you reply in a whisper. “I’m going to get you back to your mom, okay?”

After a moment, he nods and lets you pick him up into your arms. You hazard looking over across the room, and you find Dean’s annoyed gaze. Despite the uncomfortable churning in your belly, you ignore him for now and head for the back door.

You’re only able to take a few steps when you feel a hand wrap tightly in your hair and pull it away from your neck, just for rows of several razor-sharp teeth to sink into your neck.

AN: 😬 ...Sorry. If you don't know me by now, I love a cliffhanger. But how'd you like Dean getting used to sharing his space? (And having someone to occasionally put him on his toes.)

Part 2 will feature a good old fashioned "you should've listened to me" fight, some angst, some making up, some salsa dancing, and a healthy dose of smutty smut.

Next Time:

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[loveforsatoru]

Our Blue Spring- Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Chapter 6: Christmas Eve Party)

He thanks the old woman over and over before running out of the cafe, sprinting down the street. She waves him goodbye, knowing how this is going to go because she’s been in a similar situation. Love can always prevail if it never died down in the first place.

Satoru’s brain is swirling, it almost doesn’t feel real. He rushes back to his apartment to get himself ready, swinging the door open and immediately going into the bathroom to take a shower.

The next couple hours were spent by Satoru making sure he looks his best. Almost an hour shower, blow drying his hair, brushing his teeth, scavenging his closet for something to wear and digging out old boxes to look for fancy accessories.

He checks himself in the mirror one last time, fixing the collar of his shirt. He clutches the locket you gave him the day you left, almost wishing on every shooting star that this will go well.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. He walks over and opens it. Behind it was Megumi. Satoru opens the door wider and motions for him to come in.

“What's up, kid?”

“Nothing. I was just on my way back from a movie with Yuji. He still feels bad about the camera, you know.”

Right, the camera.

“Tell him not to worry about it. It broke anyway.”

“Broke? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, it slipped off my desk.”

“Sorry.. I knew how much it meant to you.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be okay.” Satoru spoke with glossed eyes behind his glasses, he doesn’t want to think about the camera right now.

“I actually came by to give you something.” He then proceeded to pull something out of his bag. It was a framed picture of the 3 of you the day you went to the zoo when Megumi was 10.

Satoru takes the picture frame in his hands and scans it. He was holding Megumi up on his shoulders and you had your arms around his waist with a smile that could light up an entire city. It looked like you guys were a real family.

“Why are you giving me this? I appreciate it, but don’t you want to keep it?”

“You probably need it more than I do.”

A smile made its way onto Satoru’s face, fighting the urge to give the boy a hug.

“Do you think y/n will ever come back?” He suddenly asked, a hint of desperation in his voice, like he was itching for Satoru to say yes. It was obvious what he came over for. He wanted his hope to be reassured because unbeknownst to everyone around him, Megumi too had faith that you would return.

The question made Satoru’s eyes widen a bit. He had never outright asked about you.

“She’s back in town.. I’m actually on my way to see her right now.”

A glint of happiness sparked in his eyes. He would never tell anyone about how much he missed being around you, but Satoru knew.

“Did you guys get back together?”

“No.. not yet. She doesn’t know that I’m aware of her coming back. I only found out a couple hours ago. I’m assuming she didn’t want me finding out in the first place. It just happened to be a coincidence that I walked into the same cafe she did, the owner told me she was in town and we were both invited to the same party tonight.”

But was it really a coincidence? Satoru wasn’t the type to believe in fate or the stars aligning, but this seemed too surreal to just be a coincidence.

“Don’t you screw this up. Get her back and keep her here.”

Having said that, he began to walk away, but Satoru didn’t let him get far, stunning him with his response.

“You miss her, right? It’s okay to admit. I promise I’ll make things right with her and if I don’t, kill me. I’m sure she misses you just as much.”

Satoru is certain of his statement. There’s no way you don’t miss him. You both clicked instantly and formed a special bond, one Megumi never had before or after you. Making sure he was safe, had food in front of him, a place to stay whenever he needed, and most importantly, someone to confide in.

Megumi simply nodded, but Satoru swears a tear rolled down his cheek before he continued making his way out.

Checking his watch, Satoru decided it was time to go to Utahime’s. He’s already late.

He sets the picture frame on the kitchen counter, grabs his things and walks out. The streets are extra crowded tonight. The area is illuminated by Christmas lights and decorations. Couples and families of 3, 4, 5, and 6 fill every corner. He hopes he can have that someday, but he only wants it if it’s with you.

Laughter and talking fills the air until he steps inside the train and it dies down. He takes an empty seat next to a little boy who looks no more than 6 years old. Is he really all alone? Where are his parents?

“Hi, mister!” The little boy fervently exclaims.

“Hey! What’s your name?” Satoru replies, giving the boy a fist bump.

“Jonah! What about you?”

He’s very hyper, seems like a nice kid. He reminds Satoru a lot of Yuji.

“My name's Gojo.”

“Cool!”

Satoru gives Jonah a small smile before turning his attention to his phone, looking down at it to check the time. It’s 8:45 pm. The party started at 7. Hopefully this train hurries up. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without seeing you.

“That girl on your wallpaper is pretty. Is she your girlfriend or something?” Jonah asks, staring at Satoru’s wallpaper, trying to get a better look at the photo of you.

“Ahh, no. Unfortunately we broke up a couple years ago.”

“Why? Does she not like you anymore?”

“I don’t know. I guess something happened and she decided to break up with me.” Truth be told, Satoru can’t really give the boy a proper response. He himself doesn’t even have the answers as to why you broke up with him and it’s been eating at him for the last 7 years, but he plans on changing that.

“Well, if she’s not your girlfriend anymore, then why is she on your phone? Do you still like her?”

“Love her.”

“My mommy says love is a strong word.”

“It sure is.”

“So how do you know you love her? What does it feel like? I’ve never loved somebody before.”

His response makes Satoru chuckle, finding his curiosity adorable.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. You’re still young. Love feels like a lot of things. You’re willing to do anything for that person, no matter what. Just the thought of them makes your insides feel warm and you get butterflies. You admire everything they do and they make you happy, happier than you’ve ever been. You’re both there for each other whenever you need it. They fill a hole in your life, like they were the missing piece and you’re not complete without them. That’s how I knew I was in love with her.”

The boy sat and listened, taking in everything Satoru was saying. He’s pretty smart for his age. Satoru had never met a kid this interested in the concept of love before.

“I get it. Did she feel the same way about you?”

“I’m pretty sure she did, yeah.”

“Do you think she still does?”

“I hope so. I would be very sad if she didn’t.”

“Hmmm… Why don’t you ask her?”

“That’s what I’m planning to do tonight.”

“Awesome! Are you going to save her from an evil dragon in a castle and then live happily ever after?”

Satoru had to hold back his laughter at the mental image Jonah had going on.

“Something like that.”

“I believe in you, mister Gojo! Go save your princess!”

“Alright, I will.” Satoru ruffled his hair and gave him a lollipop from his pocket.

He happily accepted, quickly unwrapping the candy.

“Thanks! Bye bye now! My mommy’s calling! I’ll see you later!”

Satoru watches as the boy exits the train with his mom, jumping up and down while waving before the train doors close, heading towards the next stop.

Shortly after, the train stops at its next location and Satoru gets off, walking to Utahime’s place. Kyoto is far less populated than Tokyo, making it easier to get around. It feels like a breath of fresh air.

Utahime doesn’t live far from the station, so he quickly found himself in front of her house. The music is blaring and could be heard from a block away.

He walks inside and is nearly shocked by the amount of people attending. She threw these parties every year, but never one this huge. If it weren’t for you, he would’ve walked out as fast as he came in.

He squeezes past people, attempting to find someone he knows amongst all the unfamiliar faces.

After being pushed, shoved and bumping into people, he finally finds Shoko, but she doesn’t look pleased to see him.

“Shoko!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“What do you mean? Utahime sent me the invitation!” He had to speak loudly over the music, so Shoko pulls him upstairs where it’s quieter.

“You have to leave. You can’t be here.” She spoke sternly, already planning to yell at Utahime for inviting him.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t matter, you just have to go.”

“No way! I came here to see y/n and I’m not leaving without talking to her.” Satoru stubbornly held his ground against Shoko’s insistence. He was firm on seeing you and nothing would stop him.

Shoko’s eyes widened and she nearly spit out her drink.

“How do you even know she’s here?!”

“I figured it out this morning. And how come you know about this? Does everyone know where she’s been besides me? Have you all been keeping this a secret from me for this long?”

“It’s not like that. I’m the only one who knows how she’s been doing, but she got into contact with Utahime not too long ago and she invited her at the last minute. She must’ve forgotten that she sent you an invite because I specifically told her you and y/n couldn’t be in the same place.”

Satoru shot her an exasperated look, scoffing at her response.

“Do you know how miserable I’ve been since she left? You watched me cry over her and you didn’t have the courage to do me a solid and at least give me her contact info? Nobody needs you sticking your nose in other people’s problems, especially mine. This entire ordeal is between me and y/n. You had no right to keep something this big from me for years.”

“You need to understand that y/n personally asked me to not bring her up to you. I couldn’t go against her wishes. It’s for your own good that you don’t find out.”

“I’m here now and I don’t intend on leaving without seeing her. You don’t get how desperate I’ve been, how long I’ve been waiting for this. I’m not going to let this opportunity go to waste.”

With that, he quickly ran down the stairs, pushing past people, not caring who it might’ve been. There’s nobody else on his mind besides you. The only problem is, the place is huge and it’s completely packed.

He begins going around, asking if anyone had seen you. Everytime someone said no, a piece of him crumbled away.

He decides to take a break, going to get something to drink, where he sees Nanami.

“You look roughed up.” The younger, blonde male said, taking a sip out of his own drink.

“Yeah, shitty night so far.” Satoru grumbles, opening a bottle of water.

“Already? Didn’t you get here 30 minutes ago?”

“Yup.”

Nanami was surprised at Satoru’s odd behavior. Every time he saw him, he was always cheerful, talkative. Sure, he heard that he was going through something, but he didn’t know what and didn’t think it would affect his mood this much.

“What happened?”

“I’ve been trying to find y/n all night, but it’s no use. It’s impossible to find her and everybody I’ve asked hasn’t seen her either.”

“Y/n? She’s back?”

“Yeah, I heard it from the manager at a cafe I used to take her to. Shoko basically confirmed it too, the moment she told me I couldn’t be here and had to leave.”

“That must suck. You don’t seem like yourself.”

“I haven’t felt like myself for years.”

“Over a girl?”

“She’s not just a girl. She was everything I had and I lost her in the blink of an eye.”

Nanami nods, sympathizing with the man he would usually describe as arrogant, annoying, and egoistical, but this conversation alone is enough to prove him wrong.

Out in the distance, Nanami could make out a familiar face.

“Is that her?” He asks, pointing to you. You were standing in the living room, talking to a couple people.

Satoru turns his head around and immediately locks eyes with you.

You’re absolutely gorgeous, more than he remembered. Your hair is longer, your features matured, but you still hold the same warming aura.

He tosses his water bottle aside, and makes his way toward you, but the moment you see him, you begin running away.

“Y/n!” He calls out, practically stepping over people to get to you.

You keep running, not looking back, but you’re a fool to think you can outrun Satoru. He is the strongest sorcerer, afterall.

He grabs a hold of your wrist, spinning you around.

The both of you are speechless. You examine his features, how handsome he is and how different he looks. He’s taller, more muscular. His sunglasses are long gone, stuffed away in his pocket, giving you the chance to look into his cerulean eyes that you’ve missed so much, but they hold so much sadness. It makes your heart break knowing it’s all because of you.

Despite that, you’re adamant on keeping a distance between the two of you, emotionally and physically.

You slip from his grasp and dart outside, regretting it the moment cold air engulfs your body like a blanket.

“Stop running from me, please! It’s been so long! At least talk to me!” He calls out as he follows you outside.

Every step he takes towards you, you back away. This feels too much like the night you left.

“I can’t! You were never supposed to see me!”

“But I did! I found you again! Don’t you see it? It’s fate!”

“It’s not fate! Fate was never supposed to cross our paths again!”

“Don’t say that! You know you don’t believe it! Haven’t you thought about me at all since that day? Haven’t you thought about this?”

As much as you want to shout “no” and shut him out, you can’t because the two of you know you’d be lying.

“Don’t do this to yourself! Stop chasing after me! Stop hoping that we’ll be together again because we won’t!”

“Why? What we had was real! It was never over for me!”

“Satoru, I’m engaged! Why do you think I’ve been hiding from you?!”

He stops and he stares at you, his soul and his heart shattering before you could even finish your sentence.

It started to pour rain, but you’re both frozen in place. Satoru has a lump in his throat. If he tries to speak, sobs will be the only thing to come out.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, taking a couple steps towards him, close enough that you won’t have to shout, but far enough to keep a distance.

“Are you happy?” He croaks, unable to fight back the tears falling from his eyes.

You don’t reply to his question right away because you’re not. It was a marriage of convenience. Your fiance was by no means a bad man (at least that’s what you tell yourself), but you just weren’t happy. You’ve always felt that something was missing, and maybe it was Satoru. It was definitely Satoru. Every moment you spent with your fiance, you secretly wished it was Satoru. But you couldn’t find the strength to go back to him. You still had your motives and fears to hide away.

…

“No, I’m not.” You spoke with ache and affliction. Your heart longed for him in ways that you couldn’t describe.

“How long are you in town for?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you. He doesn’t care about his spilling tears. You’re too beautiful to look away from even with your hair and clothes soaking wet.

“10 days.”

“I swear I’ll win you back before then. 10 days is all I need. I haven’t been able to go on with my life without you. I haven’t dated, haven’t slept with anyone else. I would rather spend the rest of my life alone than with someone who isn’t you. The only thing that got me by was the hope and small possibility that you’d be back. And now that you are, I won’t let you go again. I regret not fighting harder 7 years ago. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I promised myself and Megumi that I would get you back. I don’t plan on breaking that promise whatsoever. I’ll hop on a plane and move to the other side of the globe if I have to because you’re worth it. You’re worth everything in the world.”

He spoke through tears and an unsteady voice, but he meant every word and you know it.

You’re left speechless. All you can do is run into his arms and kiss him. Your fiancé, the life you built while you were away, and your motives for distancing yourself all leave your mind the instant your lips connect. He held you up as your fingers tangled themselves in his hair like they used to. Your tongues collided, molding perfectly together along with the rest of your bodies like a puzzle. You two are meant to complete each other. You’re each other's missing pieces.

It was a kiss that was filled with every emotion the two of you have felt since the breakup. A kiss that said more than words ever could. It was your way of telling him that you’ve missed and thought about him just as much.

#gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n

[jhkfan123]

enchanted- tom blyth | ch. 9

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✦ix.

A/N: this chapter is so me when-

2nd A/N: guys i KNOW the oscars aren't directly after the golden globes but pls ignore its for the plot. 😁

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you felt like throwing stuff. just throwing everything in sight. the two of them cannot tell you everything is fine, and then pull a stunt like that. not only did it confuse you, it only fueled the fire of the relationship rumors even more. at this point, you were considering deleting social media altogether. you did not want to deal with it. at this point it made every day worse. it sucked you in like a vacuum, and you couldn't escape what you didn't want to see. no matter how many times you clicked "not interested" on a post, it would not help the amount of rachel and tom content you saw. it wasn't healthy. 

you had the impulse to archive all of your social media posts and just take a break. maybe it would help. help you get away from all the things you didn't want to see. you reminisced on your actors on actors with jenna ortega. everything the two of you had said. maybe it was a good idea. you were feeling impulsive anyways. 

just to be petty, the only posts you archived were the ones that were hunger games related. at least, for now.  why not be petty? they seemed to have lied to you, anyways. 

you felt they were treating you like a child. like you couldn't handle the truth. yes, it would be hard to hear, but it's not like you wouldn't understand. you weren't a little kid. you were an adult. a petty adult? yes. but an adult nonetheless. you wouldn't have been so angry if they hadn't lied. if they had said it to your face, you wouldn't be reacting like this. but you just felt anger. 

you felt like you wanted to break something. break something like he broke your heart. you weren't going to slash his tires or anything, nothing to him. just something to destress. but there was nothing in your house that you could. so you just decided to scream into your pillow. easy solution. then, you continued to archive your posts. every single one that included tom. it was fun. so much fun. you felt a little immature, but it was definitely making you feel better. then you went through you instagram highlights. took them all down. you changed your profile picture, which was originally a picture of you, rachel, josh, tom and hunter, to a solitary picture of you. it felt so good. you knew your social media team would be mad, but who cared. 

then you cried. the situation was giving you major mood swings. angry, sad, angry, sad, really angry, sad. this went on for hours. you rotted in bed. you called your best friend and cried to her for about an hour. you just listened to olivia rodrigo. she seemed to have songs that fit every situation. you listened to get him back! and lacy on repeat. 

then making the bed came on. and then you realized. in 2024, you should not be rotting over a possible dating situation. you should not be crying for hours over a situation that you can easily question. you are the only one who is making you feel like this. you were doing this to yourself. this could easily be solved by talking to them, and even better, you had your final red carpet event of the season, where both of them would be in attendance. this event just so happened to be the oscars. it was very exciting, and even though none of you had been nominated, just going would be an amazing experience.  you had to deal with the truth, and that was, if they are together, there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. you could not go back in time and do something differently. and if they weren't together, great. 

you had to stop being immature, and start being rational. you had to prepare yourself. you glanced up at your door. your stylist had picked out a white dress. there was no way. you scavenged in your dress closet for anything better. 

...

after a lot of slow skincare, a shower, and digging through your closet, you eventually picked out a black, elegant, silky dress with a very high slit. you paired it with a layered pearl choker, and a black garter. the garter was visible, but not totally out there. you put on the highest black heels you owned, did you hair nicely, created your daily bracelet stack, and prepared to leave. you paired your outfit with a black clutch, and made your way out the door. you knew people would be dressed in gowns, and other elegant things, and your dress might now be as big and showy, but you had a point to make. again, it was based on princess diana's revenge dress. you really admired her, and this look made you feel empowered.

when you arrived on the red carpet, you walked with confidence. you had been on a lot of red carpets these past few weeks, so you had developed a strategy. get on, say hi to a few fans, strike a few poses, more fans, and then walk in. so that's what you did. stepping out of the car, there was an immediate reaction to your outfit. it was a mix of shock and surprised gasps, along with cheering. you went over to the crowd and began to say hi to a few people. you took a photo with one young fan who was so adorable. then, you did two short interviews. next it was time to pose. you were going to make sure there were lots of photos. on your way to the carpet, you caught sight of tom. he was maybe 25 feet away from you, posing on a different background. 

However, you accidently made eye contact with him. he looked at you, glanced down at your outfit, then up to your face once more, then down to your outfit, then up to your face. he couldn't seem to get enough of you. he seemed to be shocked at your outfit, which is what you were going for. you didn't know wether to smile at him, or to look away. 

you ended up doing a combination of both, which looked very odd. you had hoped no one caught that on camera. you saw him smile slightly, but then he turned away and posed again. you took the hint and went back to posing again. you had not found rachel yet, or any of your other castmates. still on the red carpet, a security guard gave you a fifteen minute warning to the top of the show. you decided maybe you should go find your seat. at the oscar's there was not as much of a guarantee you would be seated with the members of your movie as other events. the only guarantee was if you were nominated. 

you walked past the coat check, and over to the seating chart. the theater was huge, so finding your seat took a while. you sighed when you found that your seat was next to tom. and tom was next to rachel. on your other side, hunter schafer, and josh. you were glad to know you weren't seated in the middle of them again. you had hunter to talk to if things got weird. 

shuffling through people, you finally approached your seat. you gave hunter a tight hug, she was being so unproblematic in this whole situation, and you were here for it. you sat down in-between hunter and tom, and the second you sat down, your mind blank. you had no idea what to say to the boy next to you. do you ask him now? wait till the party? go outside? don't ask at all? that one was definitely out. you probably wouldn't be able to sleep until you asked. rachel was next to him, and while you smiled at her, you didn't say much. hunter complimented your outfit, and you returned the compliment. you noticed tom listening to the conversation between the two of you. you had a feeling he was going to butt in anytime now, but nothing yet. 

finally, you heard him take a breath, coincidentally at the same time the show started. you heard him say something, but loud music came on, and you couldn't make it out. 

"what?" you asked him to clarify, but he shook his head. well that was going to bug you. you focused on the show, still dying to know what he said. it stuck in your head the entire duration of the ceremony. 

...

the final award was given, and the lights came back on. it was a great show. you knew that you needed to talk to tom. you had to make sure you didn't lose him in the crowd. when everyone was making their way out, you made sure to not lose sight of him. he was walking in front of you, and also much faster. figured, he was much taller than you. 

when you finally caught sight of the exit of the building, you started calling his name. he heard you the second time. he stopped walking, and waited for you to catch up to him. you began walking again, this time with him. you made your way outside, finally, where there was fresh air. you took a deep breath, and pulled him off the driven path. 

"what, y/n?" he asked, seemingly ok with everything.

"tom, i need to talk to you. right now." 

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