#everyone else at the table is barely keeping it together.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Scent

Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.

Minors DNI.

Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.

...

Miguel was fucking losing it. 

He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.

It started with a scent.

Light at first, a barely there whiff of something. 

It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.

It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?

It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—

Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.

Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.

He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.

He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.

He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.

You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken. 

And God, did he want to take it.

…

"Miguel." 

He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.

It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.

You were ovulating.

He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.

"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.

He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.

"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."

He did shut up after that.

Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.

You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for. 

"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.

You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge. 

"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?" 

“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”

Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.

“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.

He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration. 

"Mig."

“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.

“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”

One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.

He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring. 

"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”

"M'fine."

"I don't think—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me." 

"What—"

"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."

You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.

Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.

He was so fucked.

…

You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you. 

While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.

He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch. 

His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.

The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.

And...he missed you.

But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.

Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.

And still, he suffered.

...

Earth- 0708. 

A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.

Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.

And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.

You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda. 

“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.

“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.

“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.

He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.

You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.

“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.

He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.

“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.

“Shoot.” 

“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”

“O…kay.” 

Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.

“What?” 

“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.” 

“Miguel, what the fuck—” 

“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.

“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.” 

“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.” 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”

“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.

“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”

He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?” 

“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.

“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.” 

“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”

“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—

“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”

The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.

"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.

“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.

It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.

“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.

“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”

“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?” 

Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.

“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”

“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.

“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?” 

A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal. 

“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count. 

He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.

“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.

“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you. 

“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.

“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side. 

He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.

“Wanna taste?”

He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.

You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.

“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.

“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.

He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat. 

"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.

"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste. 

"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.

"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.

"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.

Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.

"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.

You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.

"M-miguel?"

"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.

Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.

"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.

"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core. 

"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.

"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"

"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.

You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.

"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"

"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo." 

He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass. 

"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.

You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.

"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.

"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."

"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.

You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.

He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had. 

"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.

"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.

"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."

#spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction

[urhoneycombwitch]

common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k 

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

____

By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #e.m. thots from lu #drabble #smut #mdni

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Scare

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Angst (ooooo, my first time writing angst), comfort, break in, attempted kidnapping, simon in ghost mode, graves being a pussy, simon being a good bf

Summary: You thought it was Simon, he had come home early from his mission, but there were 2 pairs of footsteps walking around your home.

Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 

But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 

You. 

Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 

But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?

***

Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”

Simon shivered. 

And then he realised. 

Graves was coming for you.

***

You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 

You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 

Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.

You check your phone. 

Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.

There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 

You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 

Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 

With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.

The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 

1 kick…

2 kicks…

3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 

“That her?” The first man asks. 

“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.

You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 

One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”

He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.

They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 

Help me…

The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 

You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”

He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. They almost make it to the front door. 

But the door is wide open. And in the door frame stands a tree of a man, face covered by a mask of a skull. 

Simon…

Your eyes fill with tears of joy. 

Simon’s eyes are as dark as the night as he stares at the scene. 

The men immediately drop you, making you hit your head on the floor, a cry of pain dropping from your lips. Your vision goes blurry as you hear Simon step closer, fists clenched. 

You roll over onto your side, trying to get your hands out of their bonds, trying to grab your head to ease the pain. You suck in a sharp breath. Your vision stays blurry, barely making out the black blobs fighting in front of you. 

From the blobs you see, the one with the mask is bigger. And he’s winning. 

You think… 

One of the men drop down next to you, a new red blob on the ground making it’s way into your vision. You count to fifteen before the other man drops down too. 

You count to eight before you feel a hand pull the duct tape off your mouth. You let out a loud sob of relief. Simon…

He unties your wrists, gently massaging them as you roll over again, grabbing your head. You close your eyes as you let out cries of pain. 

It hurts. Your wrists hurt. Your mouth hurts. 

But the pain in your head is indescribable. It shoots from the back to the front, meeting at the centre of your forehead. It shoots back. And then back to the front again. And back again. And front again. And over and over. 

You can barely hear your cries anymore over the feeling of pain. 

A pair of arms pick you up bridal style, as if you weigh nothing. The black blob holding you takes you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. The blob walks away again. 

You count to thirty before it-he-returns, holding an ice pack, a glass of water, and a few advil pills. He sits on the edge of the bed, setting down the items. 

He takes off his mask, vest, gear, and everything else until nothing remains but a shirt and his tactical pants. Simon tips up your chin, placing one of the pills on your tongue, pushing it back with some water. “Swallow.”

You do as he says. 

A deep exhale leaves your body. 

He presses the ice pack to your head. “How bad is i’? Do I need to call a’ ambulance?” 

“N-no…” you blink back tears.

“You sure, lovie? ‘t was a bad fall,” he sighs, smiling sadly at you. “‘m so sorry ‘is happened to ya. Ya are the most important thin’ to me and Graves, bitch that ‘e is, took advantage of tha’. Soap and Gaz ‘re in the kitchen, gettin’ rid of the garbage. Tol’ them not to come in ‘ere. Ya need rest, okay? Bu’ don’ fall ‘sleep, ya migh’ have a concussion.” 

You nod to the best of your ability. He takes a hold of your hand, kissing your wrist. “‘M so so so sorry. Ya didn’ deserve ‘hat, okay? Ya so perfec’ and special to me…”

He looks down at the bloody knife on the ground.

“Ya try to protec’ yourself?” You nod in response to his words. “Good girl. Ya atleas’ did some damage…slowed them down enough jus’ in time for me to get ‘ere.” 

“Ho-how did you know I w-was in…” you don’t bother to finish your sentence. 

“Graves sai’ ya name to me. I took a guess ‘e was gone go for ya. Rushed here with the other three. They gone go on the mission without me. Need to stay ‘ere, make sure ya okay.” 

He presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, softly. 

“Thank you…Si…” you nod. “For everything.”

“Always gone be there to save ya,” He nods. “When ya get bette’, I gone teach ya how to properly use that knife…and a few more things, just in case.”

“Sounds good, Si,” you hold back a giggle. 

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #cod ghost

[angelltheninth]

Honkai Star Rail Men Go to a Maid Café

Pairing: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Gepard, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Veritas Ratio, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, maid café, flirting, protectiveness, hand kisses, taking photos, walking home together

A/N: Still hoping to go to one of these some day... if I'm brave enough.

Argenti is one of the most respectful people there. He all but offers to help you when you're swarmed by orders. By the time the shift is over he almost gets hired to work in there but he declines, not sure he would look good in a maid uniform.

Aventurine thinks he can just walk in and order everything on the menu, expecting every maid to service just him. Very flirty towards you when he sees you walk out. He never thought he'd be a maid uniform type of guy but he's considering buying one.

Blade doesn't see what the big deal about maid cafe's is, it's just uniforms. His disinterested demeanor make him one of your favorite patrons and you always make sure you're the one to greet him. Even going so far as to remember his order in detail.

Gepard keeps a close eye on everyone in the café, almost like security or a bodyguard. It makes him very endearing to be around. Always offers to walk you home after your shift because he knows you're very popular and attract all kinds of attention.

Dan Heng acts like he isn't affected by the environment he finds himself in and keeps a stoic face the whole time. Even you don't think he's having fun until he asks for a photo with you. On that photo you see him crack the smallest smile.

Jing Yuan loves going to where your part-time job and really didn't get why you didn't tell him about it. The maid uniform makes you look very cute. He enjoys making you flustered and using his time there to make you be polite to him for once.

Luocha gets surprisingly shy when he's surrounded by so many maids who keep asking him if he's enjoying things. Barely says a few words on his firs few visits but relaxes when he notices you're often the one serving him. He'll consider coming here more often.

Veritas Ratio kisses your hand every time you bring food or a drink to his table. Absolutely done to fluster you and for nothing else, that stutter and face you make are priceless. Yet he can actually put a price on it, the amount on his bill for the day.

Welt is one of the most respectful people you ever had the pleasure of serving at the café. He always says his thanks and nods at you when you bring him things. Asked for just one photo with you but you noticed he keeps it in his wallet, which you teased him about later.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #argenti x reader #aventurine x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #veritas ratio x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai x reader #hsr headcanon #hsr imagine #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x female reader

[honeybeejam]

new year's eve; theodore nott x reader

pairing: theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader, slight harry potter x reader, reader is flirty with all of her friends pretty much

warnings: reader presents as and is referred to as a woman who uses she and her pronouns, alcohol and drugs, partying, swearing, suggestive – characters are of age!

synopsis: it’s new year’s eve, and pansy convinces you to seduce harry in order to make theo jealous.

word count: 3k

There’s nothing you hated more than parties. Between the sweaty bodies, lowered inhibitions, and the bass thumping through the floor of whichever house’s common room met their unsightly fate each weekend, there were enough reasons for you to avoid them. Even New Year’s Eve, a holiday for partying, was one you dreaded. You had better things to do most nights, and the noise gave you migraines. Cedric would come barreling up to the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall at breakfast the next day in order to dish out all of the gossip from the night before, anyway. You would listen politely and nod your head, engaged but too kind to want to share the details with anyone else. That’s if you hadn’t heard them from Pansy first. As much as you loved being friends with both of them, you were never one to gossip.

Unfortunately, your task of the night was to do exactly what you hated. Pansy absolutely refused to let you miss a party that Slytherin was hosting, especially because you were all at Hogwarts for the holidays. The Slytherins had a tradition of hosting this particular party, outdoing themselves each year. You had happened to miss it every single year, but you wanted to fulfill her wish for your last one. She claimed that not only would it be more fun with you, but it also promoted “interhouse unity” and that it’s good for the younger students to see your friendship.

She didn’t respond when you reminded her that no younger students would be in attendance.

You wanted to make her happy anyway, so you promised yourself you’d agree to her later.

 You were more of an introvert than most Hufflepuffs, preferring to keep a wide group of acquaintances and a far narrower group of friends. As odd as it seemed to most, that group of friends was home to the most notorious Slytherins at Hogwarts. Each of them was descendants of the vilest Death Eaters in wizarding history. You didn’t see them as any different. They were all big softies, but you knew that part of that was your own influence.

You had met Pansy in your first year, during a double Transfiguration class with the Slytherins. Pansy had answered McGonagall’s question incorrectly, earning a snort from Draco. She had sprinted from the room in tears. Despite protests and a detention threat from the Professor, you sprinted after her. You two had been inseparable ever since your talk in the corridors that afternoon. You watched each other grow, holding hands through every struggle you faced. You were there for Pansy when she needed help with processing emotions and understanding herself, while Pansy defended you when you were made fun of for being too gentle or soft. Pansy had given you the nickname Sunshine, claiming your gentle nature and normally bubbly energy were reminiscent of the massive star. Everyone began to adopt the nickname, and by third year you barely heard your real name.

Which is why you were so reluctant to say no to Pansy, no matter the circumstances. And that proved to be an issue in your current situation, when Pansy was on her knees in front of the sofa in the Slytherin common room, pleading. She had called an “emergency family meeting” after the boys returned from their morning Quidditch practice. Quidditch training for the Slytherins didn’t stop for anything, even the holidays.

“Please, Sunshine! I cannot show up to a party we’re hosting without you! If you wear gold and I wear green, we’d complement each other perfectly. We’ll be the hottest there!” She whined; her hands clasped together dramatically.

“Wow, Pansy, I never pegged you as the begging type.” Draco drawled. He was sitting in an armchair nearby, wrapped in a plush blanket.

‘If you don’t shut that bloody mouth of yours, I’ll peg you, Malfoy.” She hissed back, popping her hand up gracefully to present her middle finger to the blonde boy. While Pansy sat in front of Sunshine’s spot on the couch, their friends sprawled out over the rest of the common room. Pansy had called an “emergency family meeting” immediately after their early morning quidditch practice, and they were all exhausted. Draco was the only one who was fully awake in his armchair. Opposite Draco sat Blaise in a matching armchair, only slightly more tired. Draco gave him a glare when he suggested that the pegging might be enjoyable, since Draco gives off “bottom energy.”

Mattheo sat in the center of the sofa with his head leaning on your shoulder. He was awake, but his eyes were shut, trying to convey to all of you that he was uninterested in your shenanigans. Next to him was Enzo, his head resting on the arm of the sofa as he stretched his legs over you two. Theodore was star-fished on the rug, completely knocked out.

“You know I’ll never force you to come, but maybe you’ll finally get that kiss?” Pansy mentioned in a lower voice, giving you a knowing look.

Your focus turned briefly to Theodore softly snoring on the carpet below you, clad in his Quidditch jersey and a plush coat. A beanie covered his hair, likely to prevent the winter weather from bothering him.

He looked peaceful, beautiful.

You had developed a crush on Theodore Nott right after becoming close with Pansy. She introduced you to the boys nearly immediately, grateful to have another feminine presence among the group. She had told you that “the circle jerk needed another innocent bystander to suffer” with her. You immediately fell for Theodore’s quiet, subdued nature and his clear blue eyes. The more time you spent around him, the more you wanted to kiss his cheek when he was rambling or hold his hand when you sat next to each other in Potions. The thoughts that filled your mind at night were much less sweet. Over the years you had tried to get over your crush on him, but it had quickly developed into infatuation and was currently at a level of love that excited and terrified you. Pansy always told you that she could tell he felt the same, but you had never let her convince you.

 Mattheo opened his eyes to what Pansy said, seeing you blush deeply as you shook your head, your own eyes still focused on the boy on the floor.

“You know he doesn’t fancy me, Pans. I can’t embarrass myself like that. I would be mortified.”

“So, then you blame it on the alcohol, are you daft? It’s New Year’s Eve! The perfect excuse and the perfect plan to get some dick!” Mattheo cackled at himself, lifting his head from your shoulder to flick you in the forehead. You responded by raising your fist at him and bringing it down towards his lap, to which he leaped off the sofa and backed away. Enzo cleared his throat as you began to stand up to chase after Mattheo.

“Merlin, Sunshine. I’ll give you 10 galleons if you go.” He groaned out, smacking his head back against the armrest in annoyance. You slowly returned to your sitting position, sending Mattheo a fierce glare across the room.

Theodore stirred awake at the sound of everyone’s dramatics, offering you a reassuring smile. “It’s always more fun with you, sole mia.” He grumbled out sleepily, causing your stomach to feel warm as you tried to prevent any reaction from showing on your face. Still, you blushed, knowing you had to acknowledge him. He knew you couldn’t say no to Pansy, he was just giving you that final push along.

“That’s sweet Teddy, thank you…and you’ll mix me a drink if I go, Enzo?” Why not embrace the opportunity?

“Fine, if you two let me go back to sleep before I strangle you.”

Hello text string my old friend. I've come to talk with you again...

§

“You look absolutely stunning, Pansy. Luna will be thrilled.” The door to the girl’s dormitories swung open as Pansy led a half-ready Hufflepuff into the room.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Pansy grinned, “I have a feeling Nott won’t know what’s coming for him either.”

You wore a strapless gold dress. It was silk, the fabric flowing gently down the curves of your body until it rested softly at your upper thigh. You had planned to finish getting ready with Pansy and then meet the boys in the common room.

“Theodore isn’t looking, you know. I heard just last week that he had gotten with some Ravenclaw. He isn’t interested, especially not in me.” You mumbled as you applied your lipgloss. “Good thing I’m so familiar with the corner of the Slytherin common room, sounds like the sofa is calling my name for the night.”

Pansy turned to you to complain but froze when the two of you made eye contact. A brilliant idea popped into her head. She smiled at you with a glint in her eyes, and you knew she was up to something.

“Would you fuck Potter?” She began to laugh hysterically as you spit water at the bathroom mirror, sputtering and coughing.

“Fucking what?”

The devious Slytherin girl grabbed your jaw and turned you back towards the mirror, squeezing your face until you understood what she meant.

“I’m wearing Gryffindor colors?” You asked softly, beginning to understand what Pansy was getting at.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but Theo isn’t very fond of people putting their hands on what’s his,” She spoke with calculated precision, trying to convey her point as gently as possible. “Lipgloss transfers, and red looks hot on you.”

The way you shrieked would’ve had any bystander believe you had met your fate in the girls’ dormitories, but you were doubled over in laughter, giggles spilling from your lips as you looked at Pansy like she had turned into a cerberus. “You want me, who is hopeless at flirting, to seduce Harold Potter? The guy who couldn’t take a hint if it was taped to a bludger and thrown at his head? Sure.”

“I can teach you the basics, Sunshine. You’re not hopeless, I promise. I can tell you that just by what I see in the corridors. You get a lot of stares; you just need confidence. Here. Roll your shoulders back and lift your chin a little. You’re pretty, flaunt it.” Pansy walked across the room and stood at the far wall, turning around to face you.

“When you walk tonight? Sway your hips a little,” Pansy smirked, beginning to walk towards you, her hips moving smoothly in small circles, nearly hypnotizing. She stopped a few feet from you, and her tongue darted out slightly as she licked her lower lip. She giggled. You snapped back to attention, slightly dazed.

“See? Easy. Even if you let him know it’s to make Theo jealous, Potter is a bull-headed Gryffindor. You’re wearing his colors, love, and he’s an athlete. You’ve got this in the bag,” Pansy broke out into a full laugh at that. You tilted your head slightly, contemplating. If Pansy could do it to anyone, why couldn’t you? You could even tell Harry beforehand. After so much longing, you decided it was worth the risk. You were going to make Theodore Nott jealous.

§

Although the Slytherin common room was usually quite dim, tonight it was filled with smoke, bodies, and flashing lights. It seemed as if they had pulled out all the stops for this one. You maneuvered your way through the crowd. You had come up with a plan with Pansy before joining the party. First, you would find the boys. You’d make sure Theodore just missed you. Then, you would approach Potter. Nothing too much, just enough for Theo to notice him with you. A little touch here, a laugh there. Hopefully, Theo would get jealous and make a move. You were starting to doubt yourself. What if he didn’t like you at all? It had been nearly seven years. What if you had misconstrued those soft smiles and longing glances? You shook with fear at the thought of rejection but pushed it aside as you noticed Mattheo and Enzo over by the drinks. You rushed over, making eye contact with Enzo to remind him of his promise. As if on cue, he lifted a cup, handing it to you as you reached their sides.

“You look fucking hot, Sunshine,” Mattheo blurted out shamelessly, looking you up and down. He was never one to keep his thoughts to himself. Usually comments like this were followed by Theo threatening him, to which he would finally shut up. However, you found it hilarious.

“Thanks, Matty,” you laughed. “On a mission tonight.” You took a sip of the drink, wincing. It tasted like Enzo knew what you were up to and added alcohol accordingly.

“Operation Ride the Italian Stallion?” Mattheo and Pansy were the only ones who you had officially told, being the closest to them. Mattheo often made fun of you for it, finding humor in the way you’d blush and deflect.

“Holy shit, Sunshine, you have a crush on Theo?” Enzo interrupted suddenly.

“Where have you been? And what the hell is in this drink?” you asked, taking another gulp. Your crush on Theodore was quite obvious, at least to everyone except for Lorenzo and Theodore himself.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I know its strong.” You grinned at that and choked down the remainder.

After a few minutes of talk about Enzo’s latest escapade, a tall man came walking towards the table: one you immediately recognized as Theodore Nott. Your Theo, which meant it was time.

You spotted Harry on the opposite side of the room, throwing an apologetic glance towards the other boys as you made your way towards him. You swayed your hips slightly as you went, just as Pansy had taught you. Theo looked at you in confusion in the corner of your eye, but you turned your attention fully towards Harry once you reached him. You had noticed Theo glance down at your waist, though, filling you with giddiness and confidence.

“Hey, Harry! I thought I’d check in on you, it’s been a while.” A blatant lie. You had just spoken to him last Wednesday during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Great start.

“Hey, Sunshine! Is everything okay?” he asked, voice laced with friendly concern. You winced at how he had already noticed your weirdness. You were friends with Harry, but you had never been around him without the company of Hermione (and occasionally Ron). You thought he was less familiar with you. Despite the mess up, you leaned in towards his ear, speaking at a nearly inaudible volume over the music.

“Look over to your left, near the drinks. Is there a tall, devilishly handsome man currently glaring in this direction with the fire of a thousand suns?” You placed a hand on his bicep, whether to push the narrative further or let him know that you were acting was unclear to him. He blushed and stuttered anyhow.

“Y-yeah, Nott? I’d say he’s got at least four Unforgivables on the mind, and, uh, there’s only three.” You smiled as wide as you could to try and let him know you were only teasing, but he only glanced at your lips to examine the red gloss painted over them. You decided to tell him outright, not wanting to unfairly lead him on.

“Thank Merlin it’s working, I thought Matty was going to kill me if I didn’t get his attention,” You pushed just a little further, placing a hand on his chest. “My friends have been pestering me to do this since at least fourth year. I owe you at least three Sugar Quills and a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees. I’ll throw in a chocolate frog or two if you can muck up and do something bold.”

Although Harry was shy, you knew he was a simple boy. You knew the way to his heart from the few nights you sat in the Gryffindor common room until the early hours of the morning with the Golden Trio. He would always carry candy on hand, and you would always replenish his stock. Usually, it was in exchange for the latest gossip you had learned from Cedric and Pansy or to make up for what you had stolen during your time together, but tonight was special.

He perked up at the offer of candy and immediately leaned in towards your neck, presumably to whisper in your ear or something of the sort. Instead, you remembered what Pansy said earlier.

Lipgloss stains.

You tilted your head to press a kiss under Harry’s ear, giggling as his head lifted to look at you in shock. Before you could explain your thought process, you felt a firm grip on your side, near your hips. The hand spun you around, giving you a full view of Theodore’s broad chest. Your glance trailed up to meet his, pausing slightly at his shoulders to admire.

“Teddy,” you addressed him politely and with fervor, nervous and excited about what would happen next.

“Sunshine,” He responded, his eyes breaking contact to drift down your body slowly. He took his time to reach your face again, his glare hardening when he made it there. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course, Teddy!” He gently grasped your wrist, wasting no time pulling you towards the doors to the corridor. He stopped abruptly to whip around towards Harry.

“Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” Theodore hissed. Neither of you knew what he had said, but you both knew it wasn’t friendly. You mouthed a ‘sorry, thank you’ at him just in case.

§

When the door to the common room closed, Theo immediately trapped you in between himself and the cold wall of the dungeons. The corridor was empty: all of the students were either home for the holidays or in the common room behind you. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the anger buzzing like a wasps’ nest.

He spoke to you gently but firmly, his accent growing stronger as his frustration poured out.

“Would you like to tell me what that was, sole mia?” He asked sarcastically, looking down at your lips to see the red gloss reflect off of the dim lights in the empty hallway. He shifted to press his knee between your legs, pushing them apart slightly. You took in a deep breath, your voice shaking slightly.

“What what was, Teddy?”

“Your little show with the Chosen One? And why are you in Gryffindor colors? You look beautiful when you wear any color, bella ragazza. but you truly belong in green. Definitely not gold, and especially not red.”

You felt a slight pressure on your lower lip as you looked down to see Theodore’s thumb in the center. He pulled gently, dragging the color down your chin as he grinned at you. “I don’t know if you can tell, sole mia, but I’m entranced by you, body and mind.” He confessed, letting out a heavy exhale at the end of his sentence.

“Please tell me you aren’t joking, Theodore. You wouldn’t do that to me.” Tears threatened to spill as you finally glanced at him. His eyes were soft, loving. He was serious.

“Never. You’re constantly in my thoughts, Sunshine. You make me smile even when I feel like I can’t feel anymore. We call you Sunshine because you bring light to our lives, you know? I’d be six feet under my dad’s heel without you,” His eyes softened as he caught the pink dusting your cheeks and the upturned corners of your mouth.

“You just call me Sun, actually,” You correct with a smile, hoping he’ll approve of your Italian.

“Sole mia. My sun.” He tilted her chin up to force her to look at him as he let out a low, gravelly “Mine.”

You suddenly heard cheering from the common room. Shouts of numbers rang out through the dungeons. You followed along quietly, each number getting closer and closer until you finally hit one with the crowd, your voice barely escaping.

His lips were on yours, the red gloss smearing over his face and mixing with saliva and years of longing. You tasted like firewhiskey and cinnamon and him of butterbeer, an intoxicating mix that made your head spin. When you finally broke apart to gasp for air, you pressed your forehead against his. His eyes were wide, pupils so dilated that his blue eyes looked nearly black. You couldn’t read the emotions going through his head, but you knew they were similar to the ones you felt stirring inside yourself.

“Happy New Year, Teddy.”

“Happy New Year, sole mia. Any chance you’d like to smear that lipstick somewhere else?”

“Theodore!”

note: “Tieni le mani lontane dalle mie cose, Potter,” means “Keep your hands off what’s mine, Potter.” I don’t speak Italian so please let me know if you notice any mistakes! i hope you enjoy, happy new years xx

- bee <3

#harry potter #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #harry potter x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x reader #lorenzo zurzolo x you #theo nott smut #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott/you #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #hp #harry james potter x reader

[yeonzzzn]

🔑secrets that you keep: psh / lhs

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader x heeseung word count: 4.2k

synopsis: dating sunghoon was like living on cloud nine, he treats you like a princess, spoils you, shows you off and gives every ounce of love to you…so why do you keep thinking about one of his best friends?

genre: love triangle, boyfriend's best friends, established relationship, friends to lovers to friends, jealous!heeseung, smut.

warnings: cheating, two sex scenes, unprotective sex, car sex, reader gets bent over the counter top, degrading, fingering, finger sucking, alcohol, Sunghoon and Heeseung are down bad for reader. MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything ♡

You made eye contact with him, watching the corners of his lips curl as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes stare back into yours with so much care and want. 

You quickly glanced away from him, forcing your eyes to look down at your plate of nachos, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. Praying no one else at this table noticed the small moment you just had with him. 

“Everything okay, baby?” your boyfriend asks you, his hand sitting on top of yours to stop your fidgets, “You’ve barely touched your food.” 

You quickly look over to him, wrapping your hands around his, giving a soft smile, “I’m okay, just a small headache is all.” 

Please don’t let him have noticed how his best friend and I just had a moment together. 

Sunghoon gave you a soft smile back, “We’ll get you some medicine once we are back at the house, okay?” 

You nodded, feeling Heeseung’s eyes still on you. 

Sunghoon leaned over, resting his arm on the back of your chair and placing a kiss on your forehead, “My sweet princess,” he whispered. 

It didn’t go unnoticed how Heeseung’s relaxed expression tensed quickly, forcing himself to look away from you and his best friend and off towards the other end of the table, listening to Jake and Niki fight about what video game everyone would play once back at the house. 

Jay rubbed his temples, snapping at them to quiet down, “We are literally in a public space can we not?!” 

The only downside to going out with your boyfriend and his six roommates/best friends is how loud they all can get. 

You tried to drown out the noise like usual, trying to distract your mind away from the chaos. 

Except, Heeseung wouldn’t let the chaos rest. 

He slouched in his seat, extending his legs out across the floor, setting them between yours. 

Your face felt hot, eyes widening, and trying to not react too much so that it was not noticed by anyone. But Heeseung noticed, obviously. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, YN?” Heeseung teased, but saying it in a way to not make it noticeable that he was teasing you, but you could tell. 

Sunghoon’s eyes quickly flickered between the two of you, Heeseung’s legs sitting between yours becoming all too obvious to Sunghoon. 

Before any more could be said, Jungwon was now the one yelling at Jake and Niki, deciding it was time to go back home. 

You felt more at ease once you sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car, leaning your head back with a sigh, your whole body relaxing. 

You noticed one by one, each of your friend's cars leaving the parking lot, Heeseung’s being the last in the line heading towards the direction of their shared home. 

“Are we not leaving?” You asked Sunghoon, turning to face him, seeing his lust-filled eyes. 

Sunghoon waited to get you alone all night. Tonight was supposed to be a date for the two of you, but ended up with Heeseung suggesting a group dinner, and since everyone was in favor, who was Sunghoon to turn his friends down?

Sunghoon reached his hand over to your thigh, squeezing the plush between his fingers, “I want you so bad, been thinking about it all day.” 

You wasted no time crawling over the center console, straddling him in the driver's seat, and attaching your lips to his in a fiery passion. 

Sunghoon reached a hand below the seat in unison with his tongue spreading your lips apart to invade your mouth, hand gripping the handle to push the seat backwards and lean it slightly back. 

Your hands cupped his face as his hands slid your skirt up your thighs, bunching it at your waist. 

Sunghoon couldn’t wait much longer, his dick twitching at the very thought of your cunt wrapped around him. 

His fingers slid your panties to the side, feeling your slick drip out of you. 

“Oh, fuck princess,” he moaned into your mouth, “so wet for me already my pretty?” 

You nodded, your hands working at unbuttoning his jeans, his hips rising to help you pull them down to his ankles. 

His fingers pumped into you in the same motion as your hand moved up and down his shaft, spreading his precum around his tip with your thumb. 

Sunghoon moaned against your lips, his cock pulsing in your hand, “Princess,” he whispered, “I can’t take it anymore, let me fuck you.” 

You slid onto him with such ease, rolling your hips as quickly as you could in the small space between the center console and the door. 

Sunghoon’s hands squeezed your ass tightly, his nails leaving marks on your skin. 

His head spun at seeing the way you rode his cock, sucking him so good with your cunt. 

It didn’t take either of you long to cum, making a mess all in his seat. But Sunghoon didn’t mind, it was a problem for another day to deal with and clean up later. 

When the two of you finally walked into the house, the screams of your friends echoed from up the stairs. Sunghoon held your hand tightly as you followed him to the second floor. 

Heeseung sat in the recliner chair in the corner of the upstairs living room, his eyes narrowed and chin wrapped between his fingers, the clear look that he’s pissed off. Eyes staring bullets into the TV of the Mario Party game. 

Sunghoon clocked it the minute he stepped foot into the living room, eyebrows raised, “What is his problem?” 

Jake, Niki, Jungwon, and Sunoo, sat on the edge of the couch, Nintendo Switch controllers in their hands slapping their fingers along the buttons for the mini-game. 

Jay sat in the bean bag directly across from Heeseung, his guitar sat in his lap as he played a soft tune, “I dunno,” Jay shrugged, “We all sat down and then thirty minutes later he stopped talking and was pissed off.” 

You peeked around Sunghoon, Heeseung’s eyes immediately darted to you, then your hand still intertwined with Sunghoon, then back up to you, eyes piercing your entire soul. 

You tugged at Sunghoon’s hand, motioning to sit on the couch. 

Sunghoon swatted at Jake’s leg, forcing him and the others to shift to their right, making room for you two. 

The minutes ticked by as you watched your friends continue their game, Sunghoon switching off with Jake every other turn. 

Sunghoon was in the middle of a challenge when your phone buzzed. 

heeseung: what took you so long to get back?

You rolled your eyes, quickly looking in Heeseung’s direction, seeing the same look you were giving him was looking right back at you. 

You were angry, and to keep yourself from going off, you excused yourself to grab a drink of water from downstairs. Sunghoon kissed your hand before you walked away. 

You were gone for five minutes and it was driving Heeseung crazy. 

He quickly stood up, causing his six friends to glance at him.

“Where are you going, grumpy pants?” Jay asked, tuning his guitar. 

“I need some alcohol.” which was true, Heeseung needed some of that liquid courage to get him through the night. Mostly if you plan to stay overnight with your boyfriend. 

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, peaking your head around the counter, seeing Heeseung. You should have known. 

You rolled your eyes again, taking a sip of your water. 

Heeseung was at your side in seconds, snatching the glass from your hands and placing it to his lips. 

“Really Heeseung?!” 

He shrugged, swallowing all your water, setting the glass on the table then making eye contact with you. 

“Still not calling me Seungie?” he asked, his fingers tapping the glass. 

You shrugged back at him, turning away from him, resting your lower back against the counter, and crossing your arms. 

“YN, You think I’m dumb or something?” he said with a smirk. 

Huh?

You raise a brow at him, “Excuse me?” 

He chuckled, “Do you think I don’t know you fucked Sunghoon before coming back? Bet it was in his car too, wasn't it?” 

It was your turn to chuckle, “That’s none of your business.” 

“Oh, baby, yes it is,” he took a step closer to you, “It became my business that night you rode my dick into oblivion. Milking my cock with that sweet pussy of yours.” 

You looked away from him, thinning your lips into a line. 

You didn’t know things would end up this way. It was a drunken night. You, Sunghoon, Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all went to a party, had a little too much to drink, and had to call Jungwon to pick you guys up and bring you home. 

You stayed the night that night. Waking up at four am with a headache and terrible hangover. You shuffled carefully out of Sunghoon’s bed trying to not wake him and carefully tiptoed down the hallway to the bathroom. 

You were more out of it than you thought, taking to the wrong room expecting it to be Sunghoon’s. You couldn’t help it, you were still woozy and all their doors looked the same. It wasn’t your fault Heeseung’s room is next door to Sunghoon’s. 

You didn’t realize until you opened the door and slowly closed it that you walked into the wrong bedroom, but by that time it was too late. Heeseung already saw you. 

He was hunched over his bed with multiple empty water bottles lying around him. 

“What are you doing here?” he softly asked, his voice shaken from clearly being sick of the alcohol he consumed that night. 

You felt terrible for him, seeing him like that. So you did what any good friend would do, you took care of him. Got him a warm washcloth and more water. 

It was the first time you were that close to Heeseung, noticing every curve of his face. How pretty his eyes were, how sharp his jaw was, how…kissable his lips looked. 

Heeseung was obviously thinking the same as you, only he pushed that boundary and kissed you first. In shock at what he just had done, he apologized multiple times and begged you to not tell Sunghoon. You shrugged it off and blamed the alcohol. But as the next few weeks passed, you realized there was more to it than just blaming the alcohol. 

He looked at you differently. Talk to you differently. His body language was different when you were around. Everything changed. 

The sexual tension between the two of you built up over time. Heeseung proposed that you two hit it once, then never speak of it again. To get it out of your system. You weren’t sure about it and kept shoving him off until one night Sunghoon had to work late and your fingers weren’t doing it for you, not being able to wait until your boyfriend returned home. 

So you snuck next door. And did what Heeseung said, you rode his dick until he was moaning your name against your lips and cumming inside of you so hard and much that he was seeing stars. 

Heeseung was hooked after that. He couldn’t get enough of you. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted you all over him all the time. He wanted to hold you tight every night in his bed. Take you on cute as fuck dates and show you off. He wanted to love you.

But he couldn’t. You were cuffed to his best friend. 

Heeseung honored his proposal, hitting it once and quitting. But as time went on, he couldn’t stand it. 

He got up in the middle of the night and drove to your apartment, banging on your door until you woke up and let him inside, his lips immediately crashing against yours. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself, you’ve been thinking of him too. Spacing out during lectures thinking about his hands on you. 

You felt guilty. You were a taken woman. Sunghoon is so good to you. Treats you like a princess. Spoils you. Shows you off on every social media account he owns. Has even joked about getting your name tattooed on his wrist. Man was so in love with you, yet you did this to him. 

But you couldn’t stop. Heeseung became a secret that you kept. 

You’d call him almost every single night after Sunghoon would leave your apartment. 

You created a secret folder where you kept photos of the two of you together. 

You’d cry and break down about how unfair this all was to Sunghoon in front of Heeseung. 

Your heart is torn into two pieces and both of those men have a part of it. 

Heeseung hated what he was doing to his best friend, sure, but his heart was so attached to you. So attached to the point when you finally called everything off, Heeseung broke. 

He turned cold. Got so jealous so easily. Would do anything to try and get your attention. To tease you to show you what you were missing. 

Which leads you to stand in the kitchen with him beside you, angry to all hell. 

You just stared at him, “Are you trying to tell me I can’t have sex with my own boyfriend?” 

Heeseung hissed at that word, the word he so desperately wishes you’d call him. 

He just shook his head, looking away from you, “Come back to me.” 

“Heeseung,” you sighed, looking down at the floor, “You know we can’t.” 

“Are you saying you’re just okay giving this,” he said, pointing between the two of you, “Up?”

“Heeseung,”

“That you’re okay giving up my cock?” he growled, pushing his length against your thigh, “It’s been almost a month, baby, I can’t take it.” 

You tried to hold your ground, to do the right thing. And the only way you could think of was walking away. 

But you chose the wrong direction to do so. 

You turned away from him, going to walk around the counter and back up the stairs, but his grip on your waist pulled you back. His hips connected to your ass as he bent you over the counter, hand at the back of your neck. 

“Fuck you’re so sexy like this,” he whispered in your ear, “and the fact that you’re not fighting me tells me exactly what you want.” 

You didn’t deny it. You wanted him. You missed him. 

“Such a fucking slut,” he whispered, riding your skirt up around your waist, “Got dicked down by my best friend and fixing to take my cock too, so dirty.” 

You felt his fingers rub your clothed heat, and your juices coated his fingers, “Haven’t even touched you yet, and your soaked,” he groaned, “Fuck YN.” 

He moved your panties to the side, his thumbs spreading your folds, “Fuck you’re a sight to see.” 

“Seungie,” you whined, “Everyone's upstairs,” 

“Then you better keep your fucking mouth shut,” he quietly snapped, the sound of his belt coming undone filled the room. 

You bit your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing, making Heeseung lick his lips. God, he loves seeing you like this. Loved knowing you were so desperate for him like he was for you. 

Heeseung placed three fingers to his lips, moving his tongue across them and sliding them into your hole. 

You bit your lips harder, trying your best to conceal your moans. 

He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, letting you feel what you’ve been missing since calling whatever your relationship was with him off. 

“Seungie,” you whispered, hands gripping the other side of the counter, “Please.” 

“Fuck,” Heeseung always lost it when you begged for him like that. The way his nickname you’ve given him just rolls off your tongue. Drives him insane. He was putty in your hands and would bend to your every will. 

He played it off with his tough guy act, being so cold and dominant, which he did enjoy, yes. He loved seeing how you fold so fast at the way he handles you, but god he would submit to you so fast. All you had to do was give him commands, and he’d do it. 

Heeseung lifted your ass up higher, giving him perfect access to your pussy, lining his cock up nicely to your heat. 

You were about to beg him again but stopped the minute he pushed himself inside you, fucking into you at a desirable pace. 

You were so sure you drew blood from your lip at how hard you were clenching down on it to keep the moans from slipping out. Knuckles turning white from the grip you had on the counter. 

Heeseung was starting to lose himself in the pleasure. He hasn’t felt your cunt in almost a month. His hand only did so much for him, porn did nothing, and trying to hook up with someone else was out of the question. 

Heeseung hung his head low, watching how you took his cock in its entirety, releasing soft groans from his lips. 

You no longer could hold out. Your lip fell from your teeth, mouth slightly opened as the start of a loud moan escaped. 

Heeseung was quick to act, shoving his fingers into your mouth and pulling you up, his lips found your ear, “What did I fucking tell you?” he growled, “I said keep that whore mouth shut.” 

You moaned against his fingers, head spinning from how rough he was being with you. You loved it. 

There was just something about the way Heeseung fucked you that always had you coming back for more. 

Sunghoon fucked you so good as well, but he wasn’t rough like Heeseung. 

Sunghoon will get rough with you, but not to the same extent Heeseung would. Sunghoon was more gentle, focused more on your pleasure than his own, and always made sure you felt loved and safe during sex. Which you adored completely. But sometimes a girl needs to be thrown around and fucked senseless. 

Which is what Heeseung gave you. Heeseung made sure you felt good, yes. But he would always balance it out where you both are feeling good. Heeseung loves getting rough with you. Loves bending you over any object he could, and loves fucking you so aggressively. Pinning you to every surface. Pushing your face into the pillows, blankets, and couch cushions. It was so hot to him, mostly knowing it’s what you want. 

Both boys give you two different types of sex you crave. And maybe that’s why you fell in love with them both. They each bring something to the table for you, and not just in a sexual way. 

Heeseung’s head was starting to spin, losing himself even more. 

You sucked on his fingers, your tongue rubbing between them. 

“F-fuck,” he moaned, feeling like he was going to cum right now just from you sucking his digits. 

“Can’t believe you called it off with me,” he whispered, pumping into you faster to chase the climax he wants so badly, “Can’t believe you kiss him in front of me,” he was starting to sound angry, “Can’t fucking believe I’ve had to hear the way he pleasures you when you stay the night,” he pushes into you deep, holding himself there for a few seconds, then sliding out and fucking back into you, punctuating the next words with each thrust, “It. Drives. Me. Fucking. Insane.” 

You didn’t realize how close you were until that knot snapped, coating his cock of your cum. 

“Oh, fuck,” Heeseung whined, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth, “Fuck baby, I’m fixing to cum, holy fuck.” 

Heeseung couldn’t hold out anymore, releasing his load inside you, a groan leaving his mouth. 

He took a few deep breaths before removing himself from you and quickly sliding your panties back into place and shoving your skirt back down. 

You turned around just in time to see Heeseung zip back up his jeans and clasp his belt, hands running through his hair, the sweat obvious on his skin. 

“You might want to wash your face off before going back upstairs,” you mumbled, taking your empty glass and refilling it with water. 

Heeseung leaned against the counter, smirking, “Fucked you so good after a month and that’s the thanks I get?” 

You glared at him, pointing your index finger at him, “This is the last fucking time Lee Heeseung, you got what you wanted so respect my wishes.” 

You turned away from him, making your way back towards the stairs.

“You’ll come back for more,” he teased, loving the way your body tensed up and whipped around to face him again. 

“You’re such a dick.” 

Heeseung wanted to fight back, to beg you to reconsider leaving him like this, but couldn’t. Not with the sounds of someone coming down the stairs. Not just anyone. Sunghoon. 

He reached the bottom of the steps, eyes looking back and forth between you and Heeseung, “Did you two get into a fight?” 

“Something like that,” you scoff, turning to face your boyfriend, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, Heeseung tensed. “I am going to shower then go to your room to watch a movie, my head still hurts. Is that okay?” 

Sunghoon smiled at you, “Of course, princess, I’ll join you if that’s fine? I’ll brush your hair.” 

You nodded, “I’d love that.” 

Sunghoon kissed your forehead, it not getting past him that you were sweaty, but said nothing, watching as you ran up the stairs. 

Heeseung opened the fridge, pulling out a beer he originally was supposed to come down here for. 

Sunghoon chuckled, “That was a long time being down here just to only now get a beer.” 

Heeseung just eyed his best friend, trying to play the most bullshit poker face, “Would have gotten it sooner, but your girlfriend yelled at me for being such a sour puss.” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Right, okay. Sure.” 

Heeseung clocked the attitude, “Is there a problem?” 

Sunghoon just laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “No. Just that if you’re going to fuck my girlfriend, at least make it not so stupidly obvious.” 

Heeseung sighed, closing his eyes tightly and dipping his head towards the floor, “Hoon, man I am so sorry.” 

Sunghoon walked closer to his friend, making sure the next words he spoke wouldn’t reach the ears of the others or even you, “Do you take me as some fool? You don’t think I didn’t know you guys were screwing each other behind my back for months? I’ve been dating YN for three years, and have known you my whole life, you really think I wouldn’t have caught on?”

Heeseung didn’t know what to say besides the truth, “It just happened, man. Neither of us wanted things to get this way.” 

Sunghoon heard enough and the last thing he wanted was to fight with his best friend, regardless of the betrayal. 

So without another word, Sunghoon turned around. 

“If it counts for anything, she called it off a while ago. I’m the one who kept pressuring and pushing her buttons.” Heeseung felt like shit. He knew everything would come to a head eventually or even if it didn’t, it would have been a secret he kept and took to his grave. 

“I know,” was all Sunghoon said, “Again, I am no idiot. I noticed a change.” 

Heeseung watched as his friend took a few more steps, “I am in love with her,” those words made Sunghoon turn back around, “I love her so bad man.” Heeseung clenched his hand on his shirt, “I can’t stop that feeling.” 

Sunghoon just nodded, “I know you do man,” he shook his head with a sigh, “I see it when you look at her. She…she loves you too.” 

Heeseung’s heart stopped, the grip on his shirt loosening, “What?” 

“She loves you,” Sunghoon repeated, “I know about the hidden folder of the photos you two have. I caught her looking at them, she was crying. It was the same night I believe she called it off with you.” 

Heeseung stayed quiet, not sure what was the right thing to even say. 

“Why did you never confront us?” Heeseung genuinely wanted to know. 

Sunghoon just shrugged, “Because she loves you, I guess. The last thing I wanted was to cause problems between our friend group or between her and me. That’s how much I love you both to put up with it. Yeah, eventually I knew I had to say something, but she cut ties with you before I could do anything.” 

Heeseung was still in disbelief that you loved him. Yet the love and loyalty for Sunghoon was stronger. But knowing you loved him was still enough. 

“She loves you deeply, Hoon,” he twisted the bottle cap off of the beer, “Enough to break my damn heart.” 

Sunghoon nodded, “I won’t tell her I know. And you won’t either, got it?” 

Heeseung nodded back, “Hoon, I am so sorry. I promise it’s done. It won’t happen anymore.” 

“Good,” Sunghoon turned back around and headed back up the stairs, “I’m insane when it comes to her. I don’t do well with sharing what’s mine.” 

Once Sunghoon was out of sight, Heeseung fell to the floor, tipping the bottle to his lips, “I don’t do well with sharing what should be mine either.” 

#myiceprince #heeseunggie #sunghoon #heeseung #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #heeseung x reader #reader x heeseung #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #yeonzzzn writing

[crimsntwlip]

it’s you | theodore nott.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

warnings: friends to lovers, reader avoiding theodore, reader status not mentioned, fluff fluff fluff !! kissing, google translated italian

summary: based on this request!

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you enjoy this & happy valentines day lovelies!!!

| posted: 2/13/24 | masterlist |

y/n and theodore had always been two peas in a pod, ever since they first met on the hogwarts express during their first year. even when they were separated by the sorting hat, theodore being sorted into slytherin while y/n had been sorted into ravenclaw, they both knew they would stick together over the years.

y/n was currently sitting in divination class, your mind distracted as professor trelawney rambled on about interpreting signs and symbols from tea leaves.

it was a week prior to valentine’s day and you still haven’t been asked to be anyone’s valentines. you tried to not let it get into your head, but with everyone else around you getting mingled up, you couldn’t help but yearn to get asked. although there was a rumor going around that theodore had already asked another girl, you hoped it was untrue.

theodore, who was seated next to you, noticed your distracted figure and gently nudged you out of your thoughts. you wiped away your thoughts as you turned to face theodore, who appeared concerned.

you turned away, facing back to the professor as you were ready to brush it off when he leaned closer to your level. he whispered,

“are you okay, bella?”

y/n couldnt help but blush suddenly from how close he had gotten. you cleared your throat, trying to push the blush away, theodore's concern softened into a gentle smile.

“i’m fine, theo,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves in the quiet classroom. theodore's eyes searched yours, seeing the slight unease lingering behind them. he knew you well enough to sense when something was bothering you, even if you tried to hide it.

theodore nodded slightly, respecting your boundaries yet still keeping a watchful eye on you in hopes he would get something out of you at the end of class.

once class came to an end, you quickly pack your things away. you had plans to meet luna in the library for some studying. theodore stood by, watching you pack before he spoke.

“y/n, you know you can talk to me ri-”

“yeah thanks theo, sorry i have to go meet luna.” you quickly shut him down, hurriedly walking out. leaving theodore with a disappointing expression behind as he watch you go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

when you arrived at the library, luna was already waiting for you at your usual table, perusing through a dusty old book with her signature dreamy expression. as she looked up and noticed your arrival, a smile lit up her face. once you settled in and began to study, luna noticed the distant look on your face and raised an eyebrow in question.

“y/n! what's on your mind? you seem a bit distracted today,” luna asked softly, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

you sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “i just can't shake off this feeling of unease, luna. It's silly, really.” you paused. luna's expression turned sympathetic as she listened intently, offering you a comforting smile.

you continued, “its just.. valentine's day approaching and... well, nothing special planned,” you admitted, feeling a bit vulnerable opening up about your feelings.

as you were talking about your feelings about the upcoming holiday, theodore was making his way towards the library, in hopes he would run into you. as he entered the library he passed through the tall shelves, pausing as he heard your voice.

“and it’s not like i don’t want to get asked- don’t get me wrong but i was just hoping theodore would’ve asked me?”

theodore's heart skipped a beat as he heard his name mentioned by you. he had been hesitant to ask you to be his valentine, unsure if you felt the same way about him. but now, hearing your words filled him with a surge of hope and courage. he quickly grabbed a random book off the shelf, leaning to get a closer listen but still trying to stay hidden.

“i dont know luna-“ you groaned before continuing. “i mean bloody hell its been 6 whole years of this unrequited love! now i feel a bit silly.. and there are rumors going around about how theodore has already asked another girl. maybe i should give up..”

“you shouldn’t feel silly for loving someone,” luna spoke softly, comforting her friend. “plus rumors are just rumors y/n, they might not even be true.” luna offered you a gentle smile before silence hit the air again. not awkward silence but instead comforting silence, you were grateful you had a friend like luna.

theodore's heart skipped a beat once again. how could he have been so blind? as silence filled the air once more, he had forgotten he was even hiding until a second-year student bumped into him, causing him to drop the book he was holding and revealing his hidden spot.

as the sudden sound caught your attention, your head snapped up and you found yourself locking eyes with theo, who appeared startled like a deer caught in headlights

“hello..” theodore breathed out, feeling embarrassed that he was caught. you stood up quickly, “theo! how long have you been there?!”

theodore stood there, sheepish and unsure of how to respond. he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with an excuse. “uh, not long, i just arrived...” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze.

you felt embarrassed. you knew theodore had heard everything. you gulped, hastily gathered your belongings, apologizing to luna, and made your excuses before rushing out of the library. leaving theodore behind once again, watching you go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it has been days since the events occurred, and you still cannot bring yourself to face theodore. despite his efforts to talk about what happened, you have been avoiding him, afraid that you may have hurt your relationship.

theodore noticed your attempt at avoiding him. whenever you would see him come around the corner, you would always turn the other direction. if he approached you, you would suddenly remember something urgent you needed to take care of.

theodore couldn't bear the distance that had now grown between the two of you. he missed your company, your laughter, and the comforting bond that you both once had. it pained him to see you avoiding him.

on the day prior to valentines day, you were walking through the hogwarts corridors, trying your best to avoid theodore yet again. he finally caught up to you, his voice was gentle and laced with concern as he called out to you, “y/n, please... can we talk?”

you stopped in your tracks, reluctant but unable to ignore the pleading tone in his voice. you turned to face him, and in that moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the hurt that mirrored your own. taking a deep breath, you finally nodded, signaling your willingness to listen.

theodore took a step closer, his gaze searching yours for any sign of forgiveness or understanding. “i... i heard what you said in the library,” he began, his voice soft yet filled with emotion.

you interrupted him abruptly, assuming he would turn you down. “yes theo, i love you okay!” you said frustratedly, a faint blush crept up on theodores cheeks as you confessed. but before he could respond, you quickly added, "but I understand if it's not something you're interested in. i value our friendship too much to risk i-” cutting you off, he reached out, gently cupping your cheeks as he brought you into a kiss.

as you felt his warm lips pressing against yours, a rush of emotions flooded through you. the shock faded away as you kissed him back, melting into it.

when you finally pulled back, your eyes met theodore's, and you saw relief in his gaze.

“y/n,” theodore whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth. he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin affectionately. “you've always been something more to me,” he admitted, his voice filled with sincerity. “and i want you to know that those rumors about me asking someone else were completely false. it was always you, y/n. it has always been you.”

as theodore's words sank in, you could feel your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. you had never anticipated that he felt this way about you, and now that he had laid his feelings bare, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.

he continued, “and i've been wanting to ask you out for a while now, but i was afraid of ruining what we have. but if you're willing to take a chance on me, i’d love nothing more than for you to be mine.”

tears glistened in your eyes as you reached up to hold his hand against your cheek, savoring the warmth of his touch. “theodore,” you whispered, your voice filled with raw emotion, “i never thought you saw me the same way.”

a smile tugged at theodore's lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “i've been blind not to see it sooner,” he confessed, his gaze intense and unwavering. “i don't want to waste any more time pretending that we're just friends when we could be so much more.”

with a surge of courage, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss once again.

#emsnotion #theodore nott #slytherin boys #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys imagine #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott imagine #—crimsntwlipᡣ𐭩

[joelscruff]

keep it squeaky (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

a/n the way this just kinda happened and idk how to explain any of it. if it's not your thing pls move along!! but if it is your thing...enjoy. bear with me, it was written in about 30 minutes. summary: joel miller has a problem, and it's his daughter's new best friend. or, alternatively, joel listens to you pee while he's in the shower. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age gap (you're in your 20s, joel is in his 50s), piss kink (????) i honestly don't know if this classifies as actual piss kink. he can hear you pee (and then watches you). you're on the toilet. idk if i can get any more clear than that, jerking off in the shower, joel having dirty thoughts cause he's a dirty old man, imaginary creampie, imaginary tummy bulge word count: 1.8k

You've been teasing him. You love teasing him.

It's been a long, grueling week of teasing.

But you and Sarah finally head back to college tomorrow, and he can't thank his lucky stars enough. He'd thought it'd be nice having her back here, even nicer that she decided to bring a friend along.

How wrong he'd been.

You're, for lack of a better word, persistent. Very persistent. And he's flattered, don't get him wrong, he's extremely flattered; beyond awestruck that someone as young and beautiful as you would have any interest in an old man like him. It had taken a few days for him to actually even accept what was happening; the flirty comments, the seductive glances, the little touches here and there. He'd thought he was making it up, that maybe you were just a touchy-feely kinda person, a lover of intimacy with everyone.

Until you'd been on the couch together on the third night. You'd leaned over to grab something - the remote, your drink, he can't even remember now - and you'd purposely made sure to brush your knee against his bulge. You'd kept it there for a few seconds, rubbed it gently, and then with a wink you'd grabbed whatever you'd been reaching for and settled in next to him again. Sarah, on the opposite side of you, hadn't noticed a thing.

But he had. And he'd noticed everything else you were doing after that. Nudging your foot against his ankle under the kitchen table, brushing past a little too closely in the kitchen so that your breasts pushed against his back, wiped crumbs of dessert from his mouth with your thumb and then sucked it into your own with a wide-eyed and flirtatious expression.

Not to mention the shit you wore - when you'd first arrived you'd been in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, nothing unusual. But after that first day of meeting him you'd suddenly switched to dresses exclusively. Short little things that barely covered the tops of your thighs, frilly material that bunched up in the back whenever you bent over.

He's now seen the plump shape of your ass and those delicate little panties you wear way too many times to count.

But he can't. He cannot act on the desire he feels for you, even though you're quietly begging for it. You're his daughter's best friend, not to mention he's three times your age. Only a dirty old man would even consider reciprocating the things you've done to him this week.

It's just one more day, he tells himself. Just one more day and she's gone.

It's on that final day that he finds himself where he usually does on a Saturday morning - in the shower. He's humming along to a tune he can't place and scrubbing body wash along his arms when he suddenly hears a knock at the door, light and almost shy. He freezes, raises an eyebrow.

"Mr. Miller?" he hears your voice on the other side, "Can I come in? I have to pee."

His eyes go wide; is she serious? She can't wait a few minutes for him to finish?

"I'll be out in a few," he calls back, trying to ignore the speed at which his heart is suddenly pounding.

"I don't think I can wait, I really have to go," you reply almost immediately, voice edged with a desperation he can't tell is real or fake. He lets out a low groan, hand coming up to pinch the space between his eyebrows as he figures out what to do.

Before he can decide he hears the squeak of the bathroom door, opening just a little bit. Fuck.

He could yell at you. He could tell you to leave him alone, to give him privacy. He'd have every right. Even Sarah would back him up.

But then he hears your little voice again, soft and eager.

"I'll be quick, I promise."

He brings his hand to his mouth, bites at the flesh on the back of it and shakes his head underneath the stream of water. This is a bad idea. This is a very bad idea.

"Okay," he manages to say, voice husky and muffled against his skin.

He hears you close the door behind yourself, hears the soft footsteps of your bare feet against the tile. He wonders what you're wearing; if you're still in your pajamas - those cute little pink shorts and that tiny white bralette - or if you're already dressed. What if you're wearing another one of those little dresses?

His cock, which only a moment ago lay soft against his inner thigh, starts to harden.

"M'sorry, I really had to go," he hears you say sweetly from the other side of the shower curtain, "And you guys only have the one bathroom, so..."

"It's okay," he replies, voice almost pained, "It's okay, I don't mind."

And he hates that it's the truth.

He doesn't hear you sit down on the toilet over the sound of flowing water, isn't sure whether you've already started or you're still waiting for him to say something else. He clears his throat awkwardly, willing himself not to look down at his growing erection.

"Y'good there?"

"Yeah, sometimes it just takes me a minute when I'm around someone else."

Then why the fuck couldn't you just wait? He wants to ask, desperation and arousal clawing at his thoughts as he leans his head back against the shower wall. He brings his hands up and covers his eyes, wills you to just do what you need to do and get out.

His cock bobs against his stomach.

And then he hears it - it's different than the shower, less heavy. More light, delicate. An almost melodic sound that echoes against the bathroom walls, overwhelms his senses to the point where it's suddenly all he can hear. It flows out of you slowly at first, then steadily.

Oh fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You're doing this on purpose. He fucking knows you are. He knows you're dragging it out, taking your time, knows that you're probably hoping he'll take a peek at you as you do it.

And fuck, he hates that you're right.

He removes his hands from his face and brings one down to finger the shower curtain quietly, pulling it the tiniest bit so he can see past it. He feels like such a fucking pervert, the dirtiest old man that ever existed, and yet the throbbing in his now fully hard cock and the sound of you pissing inches away is telling him that he needs to look.

So he does. And there you are.

You are wearing one of your dresses, pink and tiny and perfect. Your pretty little panties are around your ankles and you've got your dress bunched up over your thighs, almost up to your chest. He can see so much of you, so much that's been hidden only just out of sight all week. The tops of your thighs, round and soft, the perfect pouch of your belly that peeks out under where you're holding the material of your dress. And there...just barely in view... he can see the smallest hint of your pussy.

He stares. And he listens.

You must know he's watching you, but you don't let on. You stare straight ahead, holding your dress high above your tummy and pushing out the remainder of your release with a dazed little smile on your face.

He wonders if your clit is throbbing. He wonders if it's poking out while you sit there, wonders what colour it is and how it would feel beneath his fingertip. He hears that beautiful twinkling sound and imagines what your pussy must look like as it relieves itself, wonders if it's pulsing, wonders what your little holes must be doing under there, just out of his eyesight.

With barely any thought he begins to stroke his cock with his free hand, mouth popping open as he pulls and pushes and continues to watch you - the prettiest little thing he's seen in way too long - in such a vulnerable state. He knows you're almost done, knows you can't make it last forever - even though you both want it to.

He tilts his head a bit, brows furrowed, eyes dark. He stares at your tummy and imagines the outline of his cock poking through from the other side. Would your little hole take all of him? Would it fit? Would you beg for it?

If you don't leave in the next minute he's going to fuck you.

And just as that thought crosses his mind, your pretty little stream dies out. The sound of the shower centers his world again and disappointment floods his body. Don't go. Don't leave yet. Show me that soft little pussy, please.

Much to his chagrin you carefully pull yourself up from the toilet. He watches as you flush, watches as you turn away from the shower to slowly bend over, reaching for your panties. His jaw goes slack, fist still pumping his cock as you do just what he was wishing. He can see your folds, see the little drips of liquid still clinging to your outer lips, can almost see the hint of your little clit peeking out.

He comes almost immediately, white heat gurgling onto his fist and down into the drain below as he stares at that perfect little seam, wet and dripping and begging to be fucked. He wishes he was filling it up, wishes he was painting your insides and making you squeal, holding you close with his balls pressed firm against that perfect ass.

You pull up your panties slowly, making a bit of a show of it before you're suddenly standing straight. You start to turn around, back toward the shower, and at that he lets go of the curtain and allows it to fall back into place, concealing him - and his now softening cock - from your view.

He listens as you turn on the tap, doesn't mind that the water goes a bit cold as you do - anything to get some clarity.

"I'm done now, sorry about that," he hears you say over the sound of water hitting the tiles, "I just really had to go."

"Th-that's okay," he manages to get out, voice strained and practically wrecked, "Whatever you need, sweetheart."

"You're so nice," you reply, and he can hear that you're smiling, "Enjoy your shower, Mr. Miller."

--

That evening, he calls for you while you and Sarah are watching a movie downstairs. Jumping at the chance to be alone with him, of course you tell Sarah not to pause it, tell her to keep watching because you've "seen it before" and you "won't be long".

It's almost like you know.

You know that when you find him upstairs he'll be standing in the bathroom, know that he'll pull you inside and close the door behind you.

"You forgot to wipe, sweetheart. Lemme show you."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

[gloomygumi]

quirks - satoru gojo x gn!reader

summary: part two︱you like to think you’re aware of all of satoru’s quirks, but shoko thinks you may have missed a few.

contents: fluff, newly realised feelings, highschool!gojo, he's honestly not even actually there for a lot of it, shoko and geto are tho, honestly a little bit of whipped gojo, probably ooc but definitely self indulgent

word count: 1.2k

a/n: how are we coping since 236 guys ????? wrote this feeling like i’d been widowed so i guess this counts as my coping mechanism 😭 hope you enjoy anyway, constructive criticism and any ideas or opinions you have are always welcome !!

in your past year of knowing satoru gojo, you’d made a note of his multiple quirks.

you noticed how when the group of second years went out to eat together at the weekends, he would whine about how good everyone else’s food looks until everyone at the table took pity (or annoyance, in suguru’s case) and spooned some of their meal onto his plate.

you noticed how when he was in class, listening to yaga drone on about the different types of curses, he would never let all of the legs of his chair rest on the ground. he was constantly swinging back and forth. it’s a miracle that he’s never fallen back, you think.

you even noticed how he somehow kept a momento from every single hangout and mission, each of them stored in a little wooden box he kept on his bedside table back in the dorms. in the past, you’d seen him slide seemingly worthless ticket stubs and receipts into his pockets, and when the curiosity finally got the better of you and you asked what he did with them, you only received a cheeky grin and a wink from your friend.

so, when shoko finally told you some of her own observations of his behaviours and habits during your lunch break one day, it’s safe to say it shocked you.

“i think it’s pretty obvious that he likes you.” she speaks casually, as if her words hadn’t caused you to choke on your own food. she passes you her bottle of water and pats your back. “you couldn’t tell?”

after gulping down half of her water, and spluttering a few times, you finally found your voice, letting out a strangled “he’s my friend - he does not like me like that!”

the look shoko gives you is one of ridicule, but before she can say anything else, you quickly continue.

“how’d you even come to that conclusion anyway, you’re not usually much of a gossip. that’s suguru’s job." you attempt to joke, but you feel the strained smile drop from your face as the boy you mentioned approaches the table and plops down beside your friend.

speak of the devil...

you see shoko's eyes light up, but before you can even attempt to cut her off again, she turns to suguru. "geto! back me up here, isn't it so obvious that gojo likes (y/n)?"

"mhm." he hums, barely even acknowledging the fact that his confirmation has sent you spiraling for the second time. "he's not exactly subtle about it."

"you guys are being ridiculous."

now it's suguru's turn to look at you like you've suddenly grown two heads. "you really didn't know?"

shoko lets out a laugh at his genuine confusion, and reaches into her bag to pull out a cigarette. you quickly hand her a lighter you keep on hand just for moments like this and she quietly thanks you before continuing. "have you never noticed how he's always touching you in some way?"

"that's just how he is!" you defend. "he's always hanging off of suguru too!"

the pair in front of you share a look, before geto continues. "what about how he never lets you walk closest to the road?"

you stop for a second, trying to pinpoint an occasion - just one - where he had only to come up empty handed. in fact, the more you think about it, the more sense it makes. you replay your moments walking back to the dorms after class with satoru, with his arm always casually wrapped around your shoulder. you remember how he always looked comfortable and at peace. you even remember how he would gently bump you closer into the sidewalk if you were walking with someone else, sticking his tongue out at you and ruffling your hair if you voiced a complaint at his behaviour.

your mouth dries up as you try to come up with another excuse to brush off your friends' observations, but you start to question yourself.

maybe they're right...?

you shake you head, as if trying to clear your head of these thought. "he does that for everyone, you guys are just reading too much into it."

between drags of her cigarette, shoko chuckles. "he's never done it for me." geto leans forward from his seat across from you and gently flicks in between your eyebrows. your hand immediately clamps down on the spot, and you groan at him. "what was that for!?"

he ignores your dramatics. "why are you so sure that we're lying?"

his genuine question makes you stop to think. it wasn't that you didn't like gojo, in fact, you hadn't dedicated much time to thinking about him in that way at all. your friends being so insistent on the fact that he liked you made you slowly start to realise that maybe you did share some affections for the ill mannered boy.

you continue to mull over as many interactions and memories that you have shared with satoru, slowly connecting the dots in your head. he always was more gentle with you, never polite but always kind. he regularly brought you souvenirs back from missions that you weren't assigned to and he always insisted on sitting next to you on the train home, offering you the window seat every single time.

almost as if they can hear your inner monologue being to spiral, shoko pipes up once more. "he gave you a different ring tone so he'd know every time you call."

you feel your heart stop for a second, unsure as to why this in particular made you finally believe their words, but before you even have the opportunity to dismiss them again (now in an attempt to convince yourself more than them) you feel the seat beside you sink with additional weight and a familiar arm flung around your shoulder. you barely even register the smug smile shoko is flashing you from across the table as you focus on attempting to cool your face.

"i can't believe you guys started eating without me!" satoru whines, leaning even more heavily into your side. he makes quick work of plucking a large chunk of meat out of your bento, sending you a sly grin as you look up at him in dismay. "what were you guys talkin' about?"

suguru meets your eyes, raising his eyebrows as he meets your glare, urging him to shut his mouth. "oh nothing." he hums, before completely changing the subject.

the conversation from moments prior is still fresh in your mind, and you're now very aware of the soft glances gojo keeps sending your way. you suddenly feel a lot more awkward in his presence, and you barely notice how you're fidgeting with your hands under the table and not participating in the conversation anymore.

that is until you feel warm hands grip your own, effectively halting their movement. "you okay?" you can barely hear satoru over the blood pumping in your ears, and you're unaware of the laughs shoko and geto are trying desperately to hold back whilst watching the scene as you try to speak.

you start to wish your friends had kept their observations to themselves.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk season 2 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

[thefanbasewhore]

Skz think your skirt is too short. | Bangchan, Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin.

a/n: currently accepting preference/blurb requests for stray kids (NSFW included)

💖🌷Bang Chan:

The moment he sees you slip from the room he stands just a little bit taller. Eyes roaming over those legs, bare and soft. Your skin is forever tattooed in the pads of his fingers which he feels twitch, wanting to feel the soft ribbons of your skin.

The skirt was cute, it's flowy and matches the color of your white socks. Without even realizing he's grouping the back of your thigh, pushing you close until you're cuddled into his chest.

He presses a gentle kiss to your head but just like that a light goes off. Full protective mode is on. The brunette's hands clasp at your shoulders and pull you away to take one more look. If he's thinking this so will other guys.

"Babygirl," He starts softly, "You look so so cute and I love it but isn't is a little short?"

"But Babe," You whine, pouting and meeting his eyes. "It's not that short."

Chan scoffs, raising his eyes brows. "Yeah? Bend over, love, we'll test it."

Crossing your arms against your chest and not caring to move a muscle to challenge him. Not wanting to fall into exactly what he wants; for you to change.

"I want to wear it." Chan huffs, rolling his eyes but you know it's a facade, he can never be made at you. He pulls his hoodie off and over, messing his hair in the process but he still looked so cute as he wrapped the sleeves around your waist.

He doesn't move once it's tied; instead simply presses a kiss to your forehead. "What my baby wants she gets."

💖🌷 Felix:

The restaurant is rather crowded, he's skimming past the tables, looking around to find you. He is rather busy but promised he would make a quick trip to meet your friends. The relationship is fairly new, however, meeting the people who mean the most to you is important to him.

What he doesn't expect is you sandwiched between two guys. Well, that's dramatic, seated in SEPARATE chairs between two men. One of them has his arm resting on the back of your chair as he brings his phone closer to show you something.

As he walks closer he can't help but look at your legs, bare but crossed, causing your skirt to ride up more. No doubt the man next to you is getting an eye full. Felix pulls at his jacket, sleeve by sleeve and clears his throat; directly behind you.

Before you can even realize it's him he lays the jacket over your legs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hi baby."

"Hi everyone." He bows politely. "I'm Felix."

The night went pretty well, they all seemed impressed. One of the men gave their seat up for him. During conversation he leans forward to whisper into your ear, "Your skirt is a little short, yeah?"

He watches as your nose scrunches, Felix was never protective like this before. Besides who is he to tell you? "Excuse me?"

He seems to have noticed the change, "Not like that baby, you look so pretty. I mean you keep pulling it down and moving. Just uncomfortable?"

Oh sweet little Felix, it makes you pout slightly and apologize, "I'm sorry Lix, I thought you meant something else."

"No worries, love, we can go back to mine. I'll give you some of my sweats to wear. Get my angel nice and cozy." He reaches and pinches the skin of your cheek affectionately but his hand drops once realizing the whole table is staring at you both. He clears his throat, turning as red as you in embarrassment.

💖🌷Hyunjin:

"No," Hyunjin says a little too quickly for your liking the moment you step out of the room. A frown forms on your lips showing your own disappointment.

"But I think it's cute and matches so well."

"No." His brows scrunch together, as his long finger nudges you gently to turn. The moment you do he's repeating himself, "Absolutely not."

"Baby.." you get but he's not having it.

"Too short. If you were going with me then yes, not out with your friends."

"Why not?"

"There's a lot of creeps out there, I don't want anyone thinking they will get a peak." His hand meets the small of your back, gently guiding you to the bedroom. "A little longer, petal."

"Hyunjin, I will look out for myself."

"Please, just change?" His face is only inches from your own, lips forming a soft pout. You're about to tell him no but those damn puppy eyes make you sigh.

"Fine but I'm mad at you." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We can go out to dinner tomorrow and you can wear it, promise, flower."

💖🌷 Changbin:

"Baby," He pouts softly watching as you apply mascara. On your tippy toes, reaching over the bathroom sink to see which makes your skirt rise up just enough to see the bottom of your underwear. "You can't go out like this, it's too short."

Changbin comes behind you, both hands on either sides of the counter, boxing you in. He's so big he takes up most of the space but you just continue to apply your makeup. "Honey, I said it's too short." He whispers against your skin before softening his words with a kiss at the shell of your ear.

"It's fine, Bin."

"Nooo." He practically whines, "You look too good, everyone is going to be staring at you."

"No one is going to be looking at me."

"What if you need to bend down? Everyone is going to see your panties and cute little butt, it's mine." He makes you laugh as you turn around wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Do you want to come with us?"

You watch his eyes light up, you want him to come to dinner with your friends?

"Wait, really babe?"

"Mhmm, of course you're always invited." Before you know it he's scrambling to get dressed but not before throwing a pair of stalkings your way.

"Sorry baby, it's so short. For my peace of mind."

#stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #felix lee x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids

[yeosbbm]

Mine, All Mine

starring: idol! seonghwa x long distance gf! fem reader

genre: straight up smut, established relationship, possessiveness

summary: basically seonghwas been on tour and you finally see him and y’all SMASH !

warnings: barely any plot or dialogue, seonghwa is possessive, indirect dom - sub dynamic, breeding, face sitting, unprotected piv + riding, breast play, slight overstim

A/N: Something short and sweet also I opened up my request and ask question thing so if y’all have anything you’d like to ask/ask for y’all can go ahead and use it, also I might do a social/face reveal

You and Seonghwa haven’t seen each other in so long. So long being…three weeks. There are couples that go months apart even YEARS, but you know you weren’t the strongest soldier.

Since he’s been on tour you two have facetimed as often as possible, texting whenever you have the time to, send each other cute/funny vids you two like to cheer each other up about the separation. But there’s needs you two have that can only be resolved in person.

Physically…emotionally….sexually…I mean come on you two can only have phone sex for so many times.

However luckily…..you got a plane ticket to their next destination. As well as their managers agreeing with you tagging along as long as you don’t make a scene or attention to yourself whilst with them.

You joined the group with a team dinner at a restaurant. Sat next to Seonghwa you listen in and occasionally bring your own two cents into the conversation. However, there’s a problem in the mix. Seonghwa is already feeling so possessive and in need of your attention since it’s been so long, but Wooyoung and San haven’t made it better.

“You look absolutely gorgeous tonight by the way (y/n).” San says staring at your dress.

“Thank you San I appreciate it, Hwa bought me this dress.” You reply smiling at Seonghwa.

Wooyoung’s gaze is caught on your figure as well but he shifts his eyes to everyone else so he isn’t caught ogling.. “Yea she looks good enough to eat doesn’t she.”

Hongjoong steps on his foot under the table. “Manners Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung bites his lip avoiding yelping at the pain. “Yea my bad just got a little carried away.” He says strained.

San unfortunately adds fuel to the fire. “Just a shame you got to her first Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa gives a pained smile and sucks his teeth before his grip on your thigh tightens. Uh oh. While the guys are back chattering to each other about something he leans into your ear. “You really do look good enough to eat…wait till we get to the Hotel.”

You squeeze your thighs together and harshly swallow at his words. Despite what just left his mouth..Seonghwa is all smiles and giggling at the table.

————————

After dinner, the group was doing a YouTube live in Hongjoong’s hotel room. Well, minus Seonghwa. The boys were talking about the performance as well as the sight seeing they’ve been doing during this time.

Then they notice the comments questioning Hwa’s absence.

Hongjoong adjusts his glasses before saying “Ooh concerning Seonghwa….we all went to a restaurant with our staff and he told us he didn’t feel well after eating so he’s currently resting in his hotel room.”

Yunho chimes in “Wish a speedy recovery for Seonghwa please !”

Little do they know….Seonghwa was really having you sit on his face. Making you press all your weight onto him, not letting you lift your hips up in the slightest.

His tongue made its way back in forth on your slit. Starting with it circling and lightly dipping into your drenched entrance while his tongue trails its way to your clit…flicking and rubbing the tip of his tongue right on your pearl. His arms are wrapped around your thighs holding you in place.

“So sweet for me baby…” He mumbles against your folds before fully bring his tongue into your hole. Rolling and waving it inside. This makes you tense in pleasure, your hips attempting to lift up to ease the intensity but his grip keeps it from happening. He needs to see you squirm more, he goes back to your clit and sucks and slurps at it with no mercy. Mindlessly you’re grinding across his mouth. “Hwa I’m so close..fuck please please please.”

You don’t know exactly what you’re pleading for knowing he won’t deny your release. Or maybe you were just pleading for the release itself “Cum for me…cover my face with it..make a mess .” You rock on his tongue quickly before your legs spasm. Moaning and letting out signs of relief. Naturally…your hips rise up…but to your surprise Seonghwa brings you right back down.

You gasp in shock feeling Hwa wriggle his tongue across your cunt again. Slightly nodding his head to add to the stimulation. “‘S so much Hwa.”

He smiles against your cunt before tongue fucking you. Soon he takes his thumb and relentlessly toys with your clit. You’re shaking, your abdomen tense. Seonghwa is just staring intently as you fall apart. Your hips try to lift but he’s pressing you farther into his mouth. You cum again,,legs now jelly,,,cunt throbbing especially with Seonghwa lightly licking the last bits of arousal you left behind for him. You’re minds in a haze, a stuck dumb state until you feel Seonghwa scoot up under you..

You can feel the hot oozing tip of his cock rub against your already sensitive heat. You rock your hips again, needing him to satiate the final bit of aroused ache residing in you. “Let me get a condom baby…unless you want it raw..” The thought of him fucking you raw has you both hungry for more. He already knows.

“You want me to stuff you full of me don’t you…” You need him now..he needs you just as much. “Please…please stuff me full.” He moans before fucking up into you, he lets you ride him as much as you please. “Get off on me, use me.” You’re bouncing up and down his dick chasing your own high. Seonghwa just as much,,, while he reaches up to grope your breast and teasing your nipples. But you can only ride for so long, soon he can feel you slow down losing your own energy to go up and down. “You need some help hm baby ?” You nod. He holds on and starts bucking his hips up into you. The impact of you two’s hips has you seeing stars. “So fucking pretty so mine…”

You can feel him bully his cock into you. He trails a hand up touching the marks he left on you earlier…sweet red and purple blotches. You’re so his. You’re consumed by him. “You’re mine…this pussy is mine..Fuck. Fuck. Your hearts mine.” You’re lost in ecstasy and the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim. “All yours..all….yours Hwa.” He smiles…proud that only he can see you like this and make you feel like this. “Nobody else can even get close to this….” You can feel your next orgasm building up in your stomach. “Only you..it’s only you.” He can feel his cock twitch, he’s on the same verge of cumming as you are. “Cum on my dick..let go so I can fuck my cum into you.”

You and him both whine and moan during your releases. You can feel his cum filling you up. Moments later he pulls out and his cum slowly making its way out until he lazily takes his fingers and fucks it deeper into you. You’re in subspace or something like it. Mind in a complete quiet state.

Seonghwa takes you into the hotel bathtub. He helps you wash up with the faintly fragrant hotel soap and dry off. He sits you on his hotel bed and helps you put on your sweet smelling lotion he loves and adores. Carefully rubbing it into your skin and massaging where you might be sore in the morning.

He helps you fix your hair while kissing your forehead..He lays in bed with you holding you close until you fall asleep. Once you finally drift off,, he heads to the bathroom to take his own shower that’s when he realizes a text from Hongjoong.

“Did you two forget I’m in the room next door you sick damn perverts.”

#ateez #ateez hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez hard hours #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateezhard #ateez x fem reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #atz smut #atz x reader #atz fanfic #idol smau #idol smut #kpop smau #kpop smut #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #atz smau #atz seonghwa #ateez scenarios #seonghwa ateez #hongjoong #wooyoung #ateez san #smut #kinktober

[disillusioneddanny]

Welcome to the Family DPXDC

And yes, he was thankful for that space, honestly, he needed it more than he could even explain. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents strapping him down to the operating table. To his sister finding him when she came back for spring break three months later and trying to rip Jack away from Danny’s broken body, only for her to be thrown back. They said that she had hit her head on in just the right spot on the corner of the table. That her death had been painless. Danny had waited, hoping to see his sister come back as a ghost but she never did.

The anger had welled up inside of him, though, enough for him to break out of his bindings and run to Sam’s house for help. From there it had been quick. The Fentons had no proof that Danny was a ghost, Jazz was dead in their lab and Danny had a large vivesection wound held together by pins and needles.

From there it had gone by fast. Bruce Wayne had heard his story and opened his doors to him, an offer that Danny was quick to accept considering his only other option was Vlad and that was a major no for him. Danny had gotten stitched up rather quickly and the Fentons had been taken to trial where they had both been found incompetent by the courts and were sent to some prison for the mentally insane in the midwest. Thank the Ancients it wasn’t Arkham.

But things were starting to settle now. Danny was healed up. They had finally held a funeral for Jazz. And he was set to start school at Gotham Academy with his new little brother, Damian. Things were finally starting to settle.

Things were starting to settle and Danny was finally able to really look at his new family and notice the strange things about them. Honestly, coming from a weird family himself, he was more able to spot the bullshit from others. The first he had noticed was Damian. Apparently he hadn’t ocme to live with the Waynes until he was ten and Bruce had discovered he had a biiological son he had never known about.

Damian was fourteen now and he wasn’t normal, if Danny was going to be honest. Danny knew that the teenager had at least four weapons on him at all times. He had thrown a knife at Danny’s head one of his first nights here when Danny had made a joke that the kid didn’t like. He also struggled to understand common cues and comments, but not in a neurodivergent way. In a way that he had genuinely grown up without ever hearing about those things and it had Danny curious.

The others were strange too. Tim seemed like he had never slept, like he barely operated at all. Duke always looked at Danny like he had seen a ghost and tended to keep his distance more than their other siblings did. Cass looked at him the same way some of Danny’s rogues did, like she was watching his every single move. Jason reeked of death every time Danny saw him. The souls that latched onto him showed that he had taken quite a few lives. And not only that, but everyone in this family smelled and felt like they had all died and come back. He had never met a family so liminal outside of Amity Park.

Even Dick, the most normal of the siblings was liminal. It was throwing Danny for a loop because no one else in Gotham seemed to feel this way. So what were they hiding? Was this why they wanted Danny to join their family? Because like called to like and they knew Danny was something different?

Or was Bruce telling the truth when he had said that he had seen a teenage boy lose everything in a day and decided he couldn’t not help out?

It had been two months now and if he was going to be really honest, Danny was starting to grow bored. No more ghost fights, no more running from the Fentons, hell Bruce had even decided that he was going to go after the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts because even though he didn’t know Danny was actually a ghost, he found the acts ghastly and problematic. Danny nearly hugged him when he had said so. But the more bored he got, the more curious he seemed to get as well, he needed to know what was going on with this family.

“It’s not like they would know if I decided to take a look around. I live here,” he murmured to himself, staring at the fire crackling within the fireplace, still chewing on his thumbnail. “All I’m doing is seeing what kind of fruit loop my new dad is. All billionaires hide something and Bruce is definitely hiding something,” he reasoned to himself.

The halfa shook his head, the curiosity was going to drive him absolutely insane if he didn’t go and snoop. He stood from where he laid curled up on the couch and trekked back up to his bedroom. A room that was literally through times the size of his old bedroom.

It was still hard to believe that this was his life now. He carefully locked his bedroom door and felt the familiar rings of light wash over him before he transformed into his ghost form. The sixteen year old smiled at the familiar feel of intangibility wash over him and he slowly sunk through the floor, staying invisible as he went through each room of the house that was not a bedroom, looking through each one carefully to see if anything jumped out at him.

Then he made it to Bruce’s office just as Bruce himself stepped out of a door hidden behind an old grandfather clock and that’s when Danny knew he had caught him. Of course this was too good to be true! Bruce was far too perfect to not have something hidden deep inside.

He flew through the wall and found himself in an elevator and frowned before continuing down, down, down until he found himself in a large cave underneath the cave.

“Holy shit Batman,” he whispered as he started to fly around the stalacites, taking in the Batcomputer, the weird prizes the different vigilantes had one in their countless rogue fights. His eyes widened as he found Tim typing furiously at the Batcomputer, bags deep under his eyes and Danny took a look at what he was working on and held back a gasp.

When Bruce had said he was going to get rid of the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts he hadn’t really thought too much of it. It was Bruce Wayne, the playboy extraordinare who cared about all social causes that came across his desk.

But to know that the Bats were investigating it? With the Justice League? Danny’s mind was blown. He watched as Tim fought through the firewalls that Danny, Tucker, and Technus had set up to keep Amity Park a secret from the rest of the world and glanced down at his new older brother before back up at the screen and let out a sigh.

He could at least make their job easier.

He flew into the computer and started to break through each of the firewalls that they had put in place one by one before Tucker and Technus zoomed in on him.

Tucker had become just liminal enough to learn how to go into technology. He gave Danny a disapproving look as Technus stared at all the hard work they had done be ruined by Danny.

“What are you doing in here?” Tucker demanded, his eyes bright green as he stared Danny down.

“Red Robin is trying to get rid of the acts,” Danny said with a small smile. “Let him learn everything he can. I trust the Bats.”

Tucker and Technus scowled.

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Now get out of our territory before you destroy it even more,” Technus said, glaring at Danny over his sunglasses. Danny just grinned and flew out of the computer once more to find Tim dialing a number on his cellphone furiously.

“Babs! I finally got in! I don’t know what happened but all of the firewalls fell and Jesus Christ it’s worse than I thought. The Fentons recorded their experiments on Danny,” he said and Danny shuddered as he looked at the scream, hearing his screams fall on deaf ears. He had Tucker hide all of the video tapes as soon as he could to make sure that no one would see proof that Danny was more than just a human. But if they were going to get rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts then they needed all the proof that they could get that ghosts were sentient creatures.

He flew out of the Batcave quickly and made it back to his room where he turned back into his human form. Now he needed to decide. Did he tell the Waynes that he knew their secret? Or did he leave it alone?

He pursed his lips and fell back onto his bed as he fell into thought about it. Once Tim got through all of the videos, he was going to know that Danny was different, that he wasn’t just a normal human boy. Especially when he would get to the part where they cut Danny’s arm off and it grew back just a few days later.

Right now the ball was in his court, though. He knew that the bats were going to know that he was different, but he didn’t know if they were going to say anything about it. He could play with this. He grinned to himself.

He could have some fun with this.

…

“Danny! Dinner’s ready!” Duke called through his door and Danny grinned and headed out, already having come up with a plan for how he’s going to fuck with the bats.

He wanted to see how far he could push them until they admitted that they knew his secret and and that they were the bats. He wondered how long his new family could hold out before giving in and saying something.

So with that, Danny opened the door and grinned at Duke, who he now realized was the day time hero signal and explained why he not only kept his distance but looked at Danny like he had a second head most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Duke probably could see his true form and wouldn’t that be fun to mess with.

While Phantom was technically tucked away in Danny’s core, he was visible for those who could see beyond the veil. Duke was someone who could see beyond that veil and if Danny focused just enough he could alter his ghost form without even being in that form.

“Hey, thanks for grabbing me,” Danny said, imagining Phantom with ecto dripping from his eye sockets, his fangs grew longer and longer and his eyes turned pitch black. Phantom was looking like he came straight from a nightmare from what Danny could see in his mind’s eye and he smiled as Duke cringed away from him slightly.

“Of course,” he stammered out nervously. “Are you doing okay?”

Danny grinned, perking up slightly. “Yeah, I’m doing great actually. I’m really excited for school tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Duke just shook his head and shuddered lightly. “No reason.”

The two continued down to the dinner table and took their seats. Tim trudged in just a few minutes later and his eyes immediately fell onto Danny’s form. His eye twitched slightly as they raced up and down Danny’s body, taking in all of Danny’s limbs and noting that his facial features were all there.

“Are you okay, Tim?” Danny asked with a frown, his lips twisting up slightly.

Tim just stared at him warily and nodded once. “I am, are you? Doing okay, that is?” He asked, nerves apparent in his voice.

Danny just smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, as far as I can tell I’m okay. It’s funny, Duke was worried about my wellbeing too. It’s really nice, though. I wish I had someone asking if I was okay when my parents had removed my eyes during one of their sessions with me,” he said just as Alfred set a plate before him, the porcelain clattering against the table as he tried to recover from shock.

“You mean like, blindfolded you, right?” Dick asked hesitantly, looking up from his own plate of food and Danny just grinned and shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “I’m pretty sure my da-Jack used a melon baller to remove them, it was very painful and weird experience,” he said with a slight shudder. It was the frist time he had mentioned out loud some of the trauma he had experienced at the hands of the Fentons. And if he was being honest, it felt rather cathartic for him to actually talk about the torutre he had endured. Sure, judging from the horrified expressions of his new family members, it might not be hte most comfortable conversation but for him, it was nice to just say it, out loud.

His parents had tortured him. Had ripped him apart molecule by molecule and his body just forced him to regenerate, the electric ectoplasm that brought him back that fateful day in the portal continued to live inside of him, continued to bring him back from death over and over. It had made him realize that there’s a good chance that he was immortal. That his human half may never actually die.

And that was a terrifying thought.

Danny just happily continued eating his dinner, ignoring the horrified stares all around him. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun, he could feel it in his core.

….

It was a few nights later when Danny woke up to his stomach growling at like three in the morning. And of course, that mean he needed to go down to the kitchens and rifle through the refrigerator to find something to eat.

In all honesty, he had a major hankering for some fruit loops. Which led to him digging through the pantry that Alfred kept stocked up on all of Dick’s favorite cereals since he was the one who primarily ate them. He let his eyes glow in the dark as he searched, too lazy to turn on the lights and not particularly wanting to have the light ruin his post sleep glow. He dug around until finally find the box of sugary, fruity goodness and silently cheered to himself. Now he just needed to get some milk and a bowl and he would be a very happy ghost.

Danny allowed the box to float to the kitchen counter before he skipped towards the fridge and hummed. Did he want oatmilk, almond milk, whole milk, ancients there were so many options for milk.

He let out a hiss as the lights flickered on in the kitchen and slowly allowed his head to spin around on his neck to glare at whomever was evil enough to turn on the lights in the middle of the night. An ear piercing scream shook through the manor as Dick scrambled away from Danny and oh what a sight Danny was to see. His hair was bird’s nest on his head, his eyes were glowing bright green and he had twisted his head around his neck one hundred sixty degrees and let out an inhuman hiss.

Dick slammed his back against the wall as Danny allowed his eyes to turn blue once again and his head spun back around to normal just as Bruce and Tim came running into the room.

“What is it?” Danny asked innocently, cocking his head to the side, blinking his eyes owlishly at Dick. The poor vigilante was white as a sheet as he stared at Danny in horror. Bruce looked between his sons curiously.

“Three am cereal?” He asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at Danny. “I think I may make myself a bowl as well. How about you, Dick? Tim?”

“I-I think I’m going to go home to Bludhaven,” Dick stammered out, unable to look at Danny.

“Oh, well I hope you get home safe. Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely,” Bruce said cluelessly as he walked over to start making his own bowl of cereal. Tim gave Danny a wary look before he shook his head.

“I’m heading back to bed,” Tim muttered and Danny smiled to himself as he poured himself a large bowl of cereal.

“How are you doing, Chum? Are you getting settled?” Bruce asked, looking Danny over for a moment. Danny nodded and took a bite.

“You know that I know that you know,” he said simply as he chewed his cereal.

“I do,” Bruce said simply. “It’s pretty entertaining to watch the others.”

Danny swallowed his bite of cereal and grinned. “Glad you think so because this is the most fun I’ve had since you adopted me.”

“It will be good training for the others,” Bruce said as he poured himself a bowl of–

“You have your own brand of cereal!?” Danny exclaimed, looking at the cereal called Batman Crunch.

Bruce smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get any of the royalties for it. But it’s cookies and cream flavored,” he said before looking at the milk that Danny had pulled out, and poured some into his bowl. “Oatmilk, good choice.”

“I like the flavor,” he said with a shrug.

“Just so you know, if you ever want to join the nightlife, you’re welcome to it. But from what I understand, you never wanted it in the first place,” he said and Danny nodded his head.

“Too much work. For now, I just want to focus on school. Maybe when I graduate high school I’ll join you guys. But for now, I just want to focus on recovery and graduation. I appreciate all the space you’re giving me,” Danny said softly, stirring his spoon around in his bowl. Bruce just smiled and leaned his arms against the counter as he took a bite of his cereal.

“Of course. And when you’re ready to talk about it, without trying to scare your siblings, we can talk about it,” he said.

“You’re not mad?” Danny asked, glancing up at the older man. “That I didn’t tell you about me being, being dead? Or that I was a hero or how bad the Fentons,” he stopped and shuddered slightly. He couldn’t say the words out loud. It was one thing to joke about them removing body parts, it was easy to call them sessions. But to say out loud how badly he had been tortured? He couldn’t do it.

“Of course I’m not mad, Honey, you went through a very rough and traumatic time. Take all the time you need and we’ll be here for you as you heal and recover. And if any of your brothers or sister give you a hard time, I’ll tell them I was in on it.”

“How’d you know about me?” Danny asked before he took a bite of his fruitloops.

“Phantom disappeared the same time Danny Fenton allegedly ran away. Not to mention just taking one look at Phantom you can see the resemblance.”

“Phantom has blue skin!” Danny argued.

“And the exact same facial structure, Phantom just has a more prominent lichtenburg scar that you also have, just not nearly as noticeable.”

Danny hummed. “Guess they don’t call you the world’s greatest detective for nothin’,” he muttered before he picked up his bowl and started to drink the milk.

Bruce just chuckled and patted Danny’s back once he finished. “Get some sleep, Kiddo,” he said softly. Danny gave him a salute, a milk mustache on his face as he floated up in the air and through the ceilings to get back to his room.

…

Danny was bored again. He found himself haunting the manor late in the evening. Most of the bats were prepping for their night out on patrol. They were all under the impression that Danny was upstairs doing homework. He soon turned invisible and made his way into the Batcave where he found his siblings gathered around the Batcomputer watching one of the videos of Danny being tortured.

“Danny’s not fully human,” Tim stressed. “I’ve watched his parents remove his limbs and they just grow back in a few hours. Like good as new, no scar or anything! He wasn’t kidding when he said they removed his eyes!” He exclaimed.

Jason let out a hum. “It’s possible that the Fentons did it to him,” he reasoned. “Like their experiments turned him into a meta that let him regenerate.”

“How does that explain the fact that he was able to twist his head a hundred and sixty degrees?” Dick asked, shuddering slightly. “Or the way his eyes glow Lazarus green?”

“Or the monster that’s constantly floating behind him,” Duke whispered, looking like he had seen absolute horrors. Danny held back a snort, he still hadn’t even let Duke see his full eldritch horror form. It had been child’s play so far.

“He died in those experiments,” Dick said softly. “You can see him flatlining multiple times. Being killed and brought back so many times probably fucked up his body a lot. It probably did a lot to him.”

Danny hummed, that was a good theory. Wrong but made sense where they were coming from.

Bruce walked forward in his Batman suit and looked at Danny’s siblings. “Regardless of what you think is wrong with Danny, he’s our family and maybe one day he will feel comfortable telling us what happened to him. And if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. But until then, give him space and quit trying to investigate him. We’re trying to get rid of the anti-ecto acts, not investigate Danny,” he said seriously.

Danny smiled to himself and flew back up to his bedroom.

…

Jason sucked in a breath when he saw Danny asleep on the couch. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Sure, there was something slightly unsettling about Danny but he wasn’t a bad guy. The kid was insanely sweet and funny. He handled his trauma the same way Jason did, with constant jokes about his vivisection the same way Jason joked about his death.

But between the stories from Dick, Tim, and, Duke and watching the videos of what the Fentons had done to his newest littler brother, something about Danny just unnerved him. But Bruce had asked him to wake Danny up so that he can come down for dinner. It was simple, he just had to wake him up. What was the worst that could happen?

He padded over to Danny’s sleeping form and alost immediately realized something majorly wrong with the image in front of him.

Danny wasn’t breathing.

Jason rushed forward, shouting out for help, help from anyone really. He knelt beside Danny’s prone form and pressed his fingers to the pulse point on Danny’s wrist and frowned when he didn’t feel anything. He cursed before moving to start doing chest compressions, desperate to get him to open his eyes and breathe.

Dick and Bruce skidded into the room and ran over just as Danny sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“What are you doing!? Ow!” Danny shouted, slapping Jason’s hands away from him. “I think you broke my fucking rib,” he whined, rubbing at his side.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, looking between them concerned.

“He wasn’t breathing! He didn’t have a pulse!” Jason spluttered out, pointing at Danny who was frowning and pulling up his shirt to see if he was bruising yet or not. Beside Bruce, Dick let out a squeak, taking in the vivisection scar that still marred Danny’s chest. For some reason, all of Danny’s wounds from getting his body parts removed had healed just fine but the scar from being cut open over and over again stayed with him forever.

Bruce had given him scar cream to see if it would help but Danny had told him it would do nothing to help him.

“Oh yeah, it’s gnarly,” Danny said offhandedly. “The joys of having mad scientists for parents,” he said and sucked his teeth before he dropped his tshirt. “It’ll heal in like thirty minutes. Thanks for trying to save me I guess, but don’t stress, my heart just does that.”

“I thought you were dead!” Jason shouted, running a hand through his hair, utterly distraught.

Danny laughed and stood up, stretching as he did, his back popping a few times with the stretch. “Because I am,” he said simply.

…

Damian watched as his brother walked down the hall, texting on his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was not even bothering to raise his head to watch where he was going as he walked and Damian smirked to himself.

The idiot teenager was about to run face first into the wall and it would serve him right to break his nose for not paying attention to his surroundings. His smirk turned into a look of dismay, though, as Daniel walked straight through the wall without ever looking up.

There was something strange going on with his newest big brother and Damian was going to get to the bottom of it. It was clear that his siblings were not unfounded in their theories that Daniel was something other.

…

Danny grinned as he walked in on his final victim. He had managed to scare each of his siblings so far with his shenanigans and now he was finally going to get Cass. He had been trying to think of ways to throw her off kilter for a while now, but he had finally come to the perfect idea.

His family were gathered in the family room preparing to watch a movie together. Cass was curled up on the couch beside her girlfriend, the two talking quietly to one another. No one had noticed Danny walk in yet, which was rather typical.

He was lighter on his feet than any bat could ever dream. Even in his human form he had a sense of weightlessness to him that could only be attributed to his ghost form. Something that Danny had thought was interesting and also insanely thankful for considering it made it so much easier for him to sneak around when he was still living with the Fentons.

Danny creeped up behind Cass and Steph, a wide smile slowly growing on his face as he leaned down. “Mind if I sit with you two?” he asked, taking joy in the way both girls jumped in surprise, the rest of the family reacting similarly before giving Cass a shocked look of their own.

She turned to stare wide eyed at Danny and silently nodded once, unable to say a word.

“Sweet,” he said before hopping over the back of the couch and settling into the seat beside his sister. He reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn from Tim’s bowl and looked at the large screen. “What are we watching?”

…

Danny took his seat at the dining room table for dinner a few nights later and looked around at his siblings. Each one looked to be on edge, sending Danny worried, concerned looks every now and then. Danny had upped the hauntings in the manor, feeling more and more comfortable with changing to his ghost form and giving in to his ghostly behaviors. He had never really been able to do it in Amity, too much of a risk to haunt the house when his family hd weapons to destroy him at every corner.

But in Wayne Manor? He was free to roam the halls, to stare at dark shadows and just do what ghosts were meant to do. Haunt the manor. And the fact that his siblings would catch him every so often and get the life scared out of them was honestly just a nice bonus.

His core had never felt so content in his life. He was finally getting to give in to all of his ghostly behavior and now it was time to make it known to the others that he knew.

“You know,” Danny stated, taking a bite of his oatmeal. “I wasn’t expecting you all to be so chill about the whole dead thing. I thought you all would be more on edge with my weirdness. But considering you all are vigilantes it makes a lot more sense now why you were okay with a dead guy moving in.”

Tim choked on his coffee, drips splattered onto the table. “I’m sorry what?”he wheezed out.

Danny sat up and grinned. “What?” He asked before he took a sip of his chocolate milk. “You’re telling me that you watched all those tapes of my parents having their fun with me and never once realized I was dead? No living human being can endure the things I did and live to tell the tale. I’m dead.”

“But you have a heartbeat, you breathe,” Dick breathed out and Danny looked over at Jason.

“Do I, though?” He asked and Jason swallowed harshly as he remembered the way Danny’s chest didn’t move, how he felt no pulse no matter how hard he checked. “I thought a family of detectives would figure it out pretty quickly.”

Bright rings of light surrounded him for a moment and he showed his ghost form. “I’m Phantom,” he said with a sharp smile. He changed back to his human form and looked over at Bruce. “Bruce had me figured out before he even adopted me. I thought you all knew as well.”

“How did you know about us?” Duke asked.

Danny hummed. “Got bored, decided to explore the manor and imagine my surprise when I found the Batcave in the basement! From there it was easy to put together and I decided well, if I’m going to be living in a family of vigilantes there was no point in me hiding who I was. If anyone was going to accept the half dead kid, it would be you guys.”

“This family just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Dick mumbled, massaging his temples.

Bruce just smiled. “Danny, did I ever tell you that you have an alien starfish for a brother? His name is Jarro.”

I don’t plan on continuing this. Feel free to add if you want 💚💚

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dis writes #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp crossover #dis dreams #body horror cw

[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Scare (Alternate Ending)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gf!reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Angst, kidnapping, torture, descriptions of blood n torture, comfort, simon in ghost mode, idk what else

Summary: No summary ;) have fun

Everyone knew Lieutenant Riley was cold. He was ruthless, cruel, heartless, and so much more. 

But there was one thing that made him soft. One person. 

You. 

Barely anyone knew that the Lieutenant had picked himself up a hot little thing and managed to keep her. The two of you had been together for 3 years now and he was so close to proposing. He was ready to spend his life with you. He was ready to make you his and give you his last name. 

But what happens when someone who shouldn’t know about you finds out about you?

***

Graves knew. Somehow he knew. He mentioned your name to Simon, “Ghost, that is not nice. How would your pretty little (Y/N) think of that?”

Simon shivered. 

And then he realised. 

Graves was coming for you.

***

You were curled up in bed, music playing in the background as you read one of your favourite romance books Simon had bought you. The lights were off, a single three-wick Bath and Body Works candle on your bedside table. It was peaceful. Cosy. 

You were on the 15th chapter before you head footsteps and your front door opening. 

Simon isn’t supposed to be home yet.

You check your phone. 

Simon would’ve messaged if he was coming home.

There was no message. And he wouldn’t surprise you like this. 

You sit up, turning off the music. The footsteps are doubled. There’s two people. 

Simon wouldn’t come home with someone else. This wasn’t Simon walking around your apartment. 

With trembling hands, you reach for Simon’s hidden knife, concealed under his side of the bed. You clutch in it a sweaty palm, silent praying that the person walking around your apartment is a friend, not a foe. The footsteps get closer. You take a deep breath.

The doorknob jiggles. Your anxiety skyrockets. There’s murmurs before a foot hits the door. 

1 kick…

2 kicks…

3 kicks before the door finally busts open, shattering the lock. 2 men, dressed in black military uniform, hold up their guns to aim for your head. You suck in a breath. 

“That her?” The first man asks. 

“Think so. She fits the description,” the other one responds.

You shiver. They barely acknowledge you as they speak. 

One of them steps closer to you, reaching for the knife in your hand. You strike, stabbing his wrist through the jacket he wears. He yells, “Bitch stabbed me!”

He pushes you, reaching down to grab his wrist, pulling out the knife. The other one walks over while you’re distracted, talking a hold of your arms and tying them behind your back. You yell before you hear the sound of duct tape ripping. Within seconds, there’s a piece over your mouth. You try to yell. No use.

They begin to speak to each other fast, so fast you can barely catch their words. 

Help me…

The one you stabbed wraps up his wrist with a cloth, before picking up your legs. The other picks up your torso. 

You thrash around in their arms, trying to get free as you kick the one you stabbed, He holds your feet together with one hand, barking out a quick, “Stop it!”

He has an American accent, you notice. They carry you out of your bedroom as you continue to thrash around. The front door comes into view. They have no care whatsoever, with you hitting your head on the wall. Black dots appear in your vision, slowly taking you out of consciousness. 

***

Simon stepped into the apartment the two of you shared, praying he wasn’t too late. 

The apartment was silent. 

The first bad sign.

He walks towards your bedroom, the door wide open. 

The second bad sign. 

The bed was empty, your candle was still lit, and your book was closed on your bed. 

With no bookmark. 

The third bad sign. 

He was too late. He knew he was too late.

***

2 weeks. 

16 days. 

16 nights you slept. 

24 hours you counted every day.

16 days you slept uneasy. 

Counting down the minutes until Simon would finally find you. 

At least, you hoped he would. 

The men brought you to what seemed like an old warehouse, locking you up in a dark grey rooms. 4 grey walls stared back at you. One little cot in the corner of the room, on the opposite wall, a door. A door you were dragged through every day to be taken to the room you were tortured in every day. They always asked the same questions. 

And they were all about Simon. 

You said nothing, of course. How could you betray him like that? He protects you, you protect him. 

Even if it meant the bruises on your arms would keep coming, the cuts on your back wouldn’t stop bleeding, the grumbling in your stomach wouldn’t stop getting louder, and the pain would just grow. 

You were willing to take it all for him. He was worth it. 

You stare up at the grey ceiling above you, sighing as you lay on the cot, silently praying that wherever Simon is, he’s safe, he’s eaten, and he’s healthy. And he’s looking for you. 

You know he probably is. He loves you. He tells you all the time that you’re his whole world. 

But a part of you can’t help but think that he isn’t coming. You know it’s a lie, Simon would never leave you. Especially when you know he loves you. 

You silently pray. And pray. 

Until the grey fades away and the black of sleep takes over.

*** 

On the morning of the 17th day, you woke up to gunshots. You shivered. Gunshots always meant bad things. At least, that’s what Simon says. 

You stand on shaky legs before getting down, sitting with your knees to your chest. Footsteps make their way closer to your room. Your anxiety skyrockets. The door flies open. 

On instinct, you crawl backwards, in fear. A hand reaches out to you. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry. 

“’s me, lovie! ’s me! ’s okay! You’re okay…’s jus’ me. ’s me, lovie…”

You know that voice. You know that accent. You know that way of not pronouncing ‘t’s. 

Simon. 

You peer your eyes open, to be met with a skull mask looking back at you. Acting on instinct, you throw your arms around him, letting out a loud sob of relief. His arms tighten, holding your body against him. He strokes your hair softly. 

“Prove it,” you whisper. 

“Prove what, lovie?” 

“Prove that you’re Simon…I can’t trust anyone right now…” you reply shakily. He nods, taking off his mask. “Si…” You shake your head. “Not enough…”

“You hate the smell of ketchup. You can’t stand vinegar in any of your food. You always light candles when you read. You forgive, but you never forget. You like chocolate and strawberry ice cream, but you can’t stand chocolate-covered strawberries. You love ‘The Rookie’, even though it’s inaccurate and it sucks. You need more?” he rambles. 

You giggle softly through the tears in your eyes, curling into him once more. 

“‘m here, ‘m here, I promise. ‘M not leavin’ you. Gonna take you home,” he smiles at you, still holding you against him. His eyes drift down to the bruises and the cuts and the dried blood on your arms. You notice his eyes, the soft glint in them gone, replaced by an angry look. He presses a finger into his ears. “Johnny, don’ spare any o’ them.”

You blink a few times to process his words but snuggle closer to him as he speaks to Johnny. He takes off his jacket, wrapping you in it. He holds you there for what seems like hours, though it’s merely 10 minutes. A sigh escapes his lips as he stands up, heading out of the room you’re both in. He keeps your head cradled against him, shielding you from the battle going on outside. 

He takes you onto a jet, a military one, you recognize. He sets you down on a seat, sitting next to you, holding onto you. “Simon…” his name escapes your lips as a whisper, your eyes starting to close again.

“Keep ‘em open, please. Lovie, I need t’ know you're still conscious. Please, keep ‘em open,” his free hand caresses your face. “Just a little longer, I promise.”

“Trying,” you respond. He smiles, continuing to play with my hair. “Hey Si?”

“Hmm?” He hums. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, lovie.”

#ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #ghost imagine #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

[girlgenius1111]

you can face this

barça x reader

r struggles with an eating disorder. her teammates catch on.

this [obviously] contains descriptions of an eating disorder. do not read if this could be triggering to you. please, just don't.

-----

You hadn't really realized that it had gotten bad again. It was one of those things that crept on you, unconscious bad habits making a return until you had fully relapsed. It was 0-100, and it was even more complicated now that you played for Barça. Not just because of the overbearing teammates, but also because your fitness was strictly kept track of- you had to remain at a weight that wouldn't flag with the physios, or affect your strength too much. But another part of you still hated that number on the scale- it was a constant battle between those two parts of you. The rational side, trying to keep it together, and the not so rational side that didn't care what it destroyed on it's quest to be smaller.

You kept up a surprisingly strong façade. It was easier when the team wasn't traveling, and obviously more complicated when you were. You lived alone in Barcelona, in a perfect little apartment, rather close by to the homes of your teammates, namely Alexia. She liked the younger players to live nearby, so she could keep an eye on everyone, she said.

Your teammates could tell you were having a hard time; it was obvious by the way they worked harder to get a laugh out of you, how they'd show up to hangout of the blue, just because they were in the neighborhood. None of them had approached you about what was bothering you yet, and you assumed they didn't have any idea what was really going on. There were clues, though, ones you weren't aware of, that they were most certainly picking up on.

The first clues weren't much; the way you'd pick at your food whenever you ate with the team. For your part, you did well to hide the fact that every bite was painful to choke down. Still, there was just something slightly off.

It was the quieter members of the team that noticed other things, but they didn't bring them up to anyone else, not yet. Not when it was just you changing rather quickly in the locker room, or how you often showed up at team dinners claiming to have already eaten.

-----

The first person to really notice that something wasn't just a little off, that something was wrong, was Pina. The two of you had finally convinced Alexia to allow you to room together; previously, she'd said no, arguing that you two would inevitably get up to trouble left to your own devices. You'd worn Alexia out, though, and both you and Pina were practically giddy when she'd flashed you with a warning look and read off your names together.

You'd managed to put it out of your head, how much of a hard time you were having. Until dinner that night. It was a rough day, rougher than you were used to, and while you normally could pretend pretty well in front of the team, you didn't feel like that was possible this particular evening. You'd gone to dinner, eaten as much as you could bare, before you mumbled something to the table about having a headache, and slipping back off to your room.

You were overwhelmed, really, and feeling incredibly alone. Something deep inside of you ached, and you wanted it to stop, leave you alone, just for one night. You were so frustrated, and pathetically, so sad. You thought you would have more time before Pina came back to the room, so you gave yourself the grace to breakdown, just a little. You could shower, wash away all traces of the tears, and be back to normal by the time your roommate returned.

What you somehow forgot, however, was that Pina was, while silly and mischievous, also one of the kindest people you'd ever met. You should have known that she'd come check on you, but you were slightly preoccupied with trying to keep a handle on your breakdown.

You didn't hear the click of the key card just before the door opened, and you were caught completely off guard when Claudia stepped inside, her face scrunching with worry as she caught sight of you curled up in the cozy chair in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly into your hands.

"Amiga! What is it?" She asked, rushing over to you. "Is it your headache? Should I get a physio?"

"No, I'm fine, Pina," you replied, wiping furiously at the tears that were still insisting on spilling from your eyes.

"Why are you crying if you're fine?" Pina asked in a quieter voice, on of her hands coming to rest on your knee.

“Claudia, seriously, I’m fine.” You insisted. You looked at her, then, and you looked so devastated, Pina knew instantly that you were lying. She felt so out of her league, so unsure what to do.

“Stay here.” She said after a minute, practically sprinting out of the room.

You knew she’d come back with someone, whoever she could find to fix you. This was the a job for an older player, not her. She gave good hugs, and could always make you laugh, but you needed someone older, someone wiser.

You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her. You could only wait, and try to calm down.

You'd stopped crying, you really had, by the time Pina returned with Mapi in tow. You were prepared to act as though your friend was being dramatic, and really, you were fine, but then Mapi walked in, looking like she'd run the whole way to your room to check on you. The serious look on her face was such a departure from how she normally acted, that you were rather thrown off. She caught sight of you sitting on the bed, your red face, the slight downturn of your lips. What really got you was the way she didn't even say anything; she simply walked closer and opened her arms.

You were moving before you could even think to remain where you were, falling easily into the older girl's arms. They wrapped tight around you, and you buried your face in her shoulder. Tears ran off your face, collecting on Mapi's sweatshirt, but she held tight to you, one arm around your back, another holding your head close against her.

"It's alright, chica, we've got you." She murmured. You allowed yourself to sink into the comfort. For a moment, pretending that you weren't keeping so much inside, hidden away from the people that cared about you. You pretended that Mapi knew what was going on, and she was holding tight to you as reassurance, an unspoken promise that you'd be alright.

She didn't know what was wrong, though, and you weren't sure you'd be alright, not really. The little bubble of comfort and safety was broken when the defender pulled back, hands on your shoulders as she looked searchingly at you.

"What happened?" She asked. Her grip on you was tight, and you knew she wouldn't let go until you answered her. Pina was visible, just over Mapi’s shoulder, fidgeting with her hands and looking on nervously. Your only possible course of action was to lie, and to lie well.

"I don't know, I think I'm about to get my period or something," you lied. "I was just kind of sad, but it's fine, I'm fine now."

Mapi didn't look convince, nor did Pina.

"Are you sure? If something is bothering me, you can tell me. Or I can get Alexia if you want," Mapi suggested, beginning to turn toward the door.

That, you absolutely could not let happen. Alexia would get the truth out of you in seconds, especially when you were already so upset.

"No, seriously Mapi, I'm fine. Don't bother Alexia." You insisted, catching her arm and spinning her back around.

She eyed you for a minute, completely straight faced, before holding out her pinky to you. "Promise you are okay?" She asked.

You rolled your eyes, but linked your pinky with hers. "I promise."

She seemed satisfied after that, and you felt guilty about lying. It was for the best, though. You didn't need to worry your teammates, not when you were fine. Not when you had everything under control. Obviously, your motivation to lie went much deeper than that; the fear that they'd make you stop was suffocating.

-----

You shouldn't have felt guilty for lying, because Mapi went right to Alexia anyway. The Catalan Captain miraculously had her own room, for the 4th trip that year, although no one felt brave enough to comment on it. She opened the door warily, thinking Mapi was knocking just to chat, which she got enough of during the daytime hours.

"María, I'm really tired," Alexia started, glancing longingly back at her bed, where a nighttime call with her girlfriend and a cozy blanket awaited her.

"It's about y/n. I think something's wrong."

As Mapi had predicted, she didn't need to say more before Alexia was, now wide awake, stepping to the side, motioning for the defender to walk in.

"What is it?" She demanded once the door was shut behind her.

"Pina came to get me, and she said y/n was really upset about something, but she was pretending she was fine. I went back to their room and she had stopped crying, but as soon as I gave her a hug, she started crying again. And then once she'd stopped crying, she tried to tell me she was fine, something about getting her period and being sad for no reason. She pinky promised, but she was lying, Ale, I could tell. She looked so upset, like she was barely holding it together." Mapi's worry was evident in her tone, and, like you, Alexia noted the seriousness that was present on her friend's face. It wasn't normal, and it meant that, likely, there really was something to be worried about.

"Do you have any idea what she could be upset about?"

"No, not really. She's been a little off, I guess, but I can't think of what could be wrong."

Alexia sighed, silently agreeing with Mapi that you had been acting weird, but also that she couldn't think of a reason for it.

"I'll keep an eye on her, and I'll tell a couple of the others to as well. If something else happens, we can talk to her again." Alexia decided, somewhat uneasily. She wanted to figure out what was wrong, and fix it now, but suffocating you while you were already upset probably wasn't the best idea.

-----

In hindsight, maybe Alexia should have done something sooner. Your behavior remained off, but nothing else occurred that would really raise any red flags. That was, until the team had a double training session, and everyone ate lunch together. You had noticed more eyes on you in the last week, and figured that Mapi had probably asked a few of the older girls to keep an eye on you.

In an effort to convince them you were fine, you forced yourself to eat a normal amount of food at lunch, more than the carefully calculated portion you were intending to consume. It was alright, at first. You were able to distract yourself, joking around with your teammates. When you glanced down at your plate, though, finding it empty, you felt a wave of horror wash over you. You had no choice, no other option. It was too much. You couldn't do this.

You slipped away from the table after a couple of minutes of trying to calm yourself down. It felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You made it to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet.

In that moment, you hated yourself. For eating too much, for caring about eating too much. For doing this. Tears fell, unrelated to what you were forcing your body to do. You just wanted to be normal, to feel good. You wanted to look in the mirror, and not hate what you saw looking back at you. You wanted to see what everyone else apparently saw; a normal, average looking person. You hated this, hated what you were doing, but you couldn't stop. You wanted to, more than anything.

When the door creaked open, and you realized you hadn't locked the door behind you, you were caught in the worst position possible. You didn't need to look up, see the disgusted faces looking back at you, to know that you wouldn't be able to play this off. It was obvious that you weren't just ill. You were sick.

You didn't look up, couldn't look up, at whoever was at the door. You sat back against the wall, staring numbly at the floor.

"Go get Alexia. Discreetly." You heard Ingrid instruct, and you heard Aitana reply quietly before her footsteps echoed back down the hall.

The resounding emotion was shame; for being so weak, for being caught doing this. You felt so stupid. You were an athlete, you couldn't be behaving like this. At the same time, the need to lie, to not let them make you stop persisted. You were torn, completely at a loss for words. So, instead of saying something you couldn't think through all the way, you remained quiet.

------

Aitana ran like there was a fire to the cafeteria, only slowing to a walk when she neared the doors. Her heart ached for you, truly. You'd looked so destroyed, the hatred you held for yourself clear on your face. She sped walk to where Alexia was sitting, making eye contact as the blonde turned towards her on instinct, as if sensing that something wasn't right. Mapi was on her other side, and she'd known something was wrong the second she saw her girlfriend go after you, but she'd been deep in conversation with Irene, and she hadn't wanted to overreact.

Aitana leaned down, speaking quietly in Alexia's ear. "Come with me, it's y/n."

Alexia nodded once, her expression firm as she stood. As if they were 2 ducklings following their mother, Mapi and Irene rose too, following their captain and Aitana out into the hall. They stopped just outside the doors looking expectantly at the younger player.

Aitana worried her lip in between her teeth, looking intensely at Alexia. She didn't want to say what was going on, not in front of the other girls. Ingrid had told her to get Alexia, and to be discreet. You didn't need a crowd of people.

"What happened?" Alexia asked after a minute, her voice anxious.

"I... Ingrid told me to get you, and to be discreet." Aitana's gaze flickered to the other girls, and the blonde captain caught her meaning.

"Mapi, Irene, go back inside, I'll take care of it."

They both began to protest, but Alexia remained resolute, shaking her head at them. "No, Ingrid said just me. Whatever is going on we don't need to overwhelm her." The other girls turned, sighing dramatically, walking back into the cafeteria.

Alexia fixed her gaze back on Aitana, wordlessly asking for more information.

"Ingrid and I followed her to the bathroom, and we heard her getting sick. Ingrid opened the door, it wasn't locked, and she was... she was making herself..." Aitana trailed off uncomfortably.

The pieces started to fall together for Alexia, and she didn't need the younger woman to say anything else.

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Tana. I'll make sure she's okay."

Aitana nodded nervously, watching after her captain as the blonde made her way down the hall and towards the bathroom that the brunette had indicated.

-----

To your surprise, Ingrid didn't try to make you talk. Her and Aitana had watched you leave the room, and worried that you were ill or something, with the look on your face. They'd followed you, hovering outside the bathroom door, before trying the handle. Ingrid hadn't expected what she found, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do. All she knew was that you needed help.

She shut the door behind her, locking it this time, before grabbing a paper towel. She got it wet with warm water, before carefully approaching you. Ingrid flushed the toilet, before lifting your chin to face her. You shut your eyes, unable to really look at her. You couldn't see how disgusted with you she was; that would be it. That would shatter you beyond repair.

Ingrid carefully wiped your mouth off, before taking your hand in hers, and wiping your fingers off too. The action made you inhale sharply. She knew, she'd seen. You knew she had, but the silent acknowledgement made you sick to your stomach all over again.

The Norwegian disposed of the paper towel, turning towards the door when a quiet knock sounded. You clenched your jaw, clenched your fists, dreading the conversation you knew your captain was about to force you to have.

You didn't want a lecture. You knew what you were doing wasn't okay, wasn't healthy. You knew, and you did it anyway. Because, despite what you told yourself, it wasn't about being healthy. It was about looking the way you thought you should.

Alexia entered, taking in Ingrid's troubled expression, before her eyes fell to you. You looked hopeless, completely embarrassed, and Alexia wanted to fix it. Make you understand that you didn't have to be embarrassed, not with her. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that she'd make sure that you were okay. She wanted you to let her in, finally, admit that you were hurting.

None of these things were conversations to be had in the bathroom, though. Alexia walked forward, holding out a hand down to you. Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. There wasn't any revulsion evident on her face, and even though you wanted to run, hide, pretend that this wasn't happening, you knew you couldn't do that.

You took Alexia's hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. She was steady where you were shaky, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you out of the bathroom. She stopped briefly, looking down at you.

"Do you want Ingrid to come, or would you rather talk just the two of us?" She asked softly.

Your eyes flickered to Ingrid, not wanting to hurt her feelings when she'd been so kind, but also thinking that you couldn't handle talking to more than one person about what was going on. It was horribly overwhelming enough as it was.

Ingrid caught your hesitance, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "It's alright, elskling. You talk with Ale, okay? And maybe later you can come over and have a movie night with me and María?"

You half smiled at her, as it was all you could manage, a smile she returned, before she headed the opposite way down the hall.

Alexia tightened her grip around you, like she was a little afraid you were going to run. To be fair, you'd considered it, but the tight hold your captain had on you had shut that option down. She led you through the maze of hallways, eventually finding a room that seemed to meet her requirements. It was a little relaxation lounge, one no one ever used as it wasn't very big, and the team kind of stuck together.

Alexia sat down next to you on one of the sofa's, and you appreciated that she didn't sit in the chair across the room; that would have felt terrifying like a therapy session, and you definitely weren't there yet.

"How long has this been going on?" Alexia asked. Her question startled you, having been sure she was going to try to make you talk first. She liked to do that, feeling like important discussions with her teammates were more successful when they steered the conversation. However, Alexia knew you wouldn't steer it anywhere helpful.

"How long has what been going on?" You replied, instantly regretting the words. Why had you said that? Alexia was aware that you knew what she was asking about, and she wouldn't let you get away with playing dumb.

Shaking her head, she spoke firmly. "No, we are not going to do that. Aitana and Ingrid saw, pequeña. We have to talk about this."

"I don't want to." You murmured, resting your head in your hands. You didn't. You would have done practically anything to avoid it.

"I know." Alexia told you sympathetically, rubbing her hand up and down your back. "We have to, though. I care about you way too much to not do anything about this." Ale paused. "When did it start?"

"It was bad when I was younger, a teenager. And I went to therapy, and I was doing well for a while. I'm not really sure what happened, why it started again."

Alexia didn't miss that you didn't answer her question. "When did it start?" She asked again.

You sighed, head still hidden away in your hands. "A few weeks ago. It wasn't that bad at first, I didn't notice. And then it was, and it was too late, I couldn't fix it."

"Why?" Alexia asked next.

You shook your head, even as the words threatened to spill out; the words that harassed you, that tainted every meal.

"Come on, pequeña. I am not going to judge you, just tell me."

Often, Alexia was seen as this intimidating, hardcore player. She'd do anything for her teammates, though, and she was capable of extreme kindness. If you were lucky enough to know Ale, to really know her, you knew how good she was. Maybe it was this, one of the best people you knew begging you to talk to her, that made you relent.

"I... I hate the way that I look. I hate it." Your words were dripping with self loathing. Alexia understood the unspoken words; you hated yourself.

There were a lot of things Alexia wanted to tell you, but didn't, not yet. She'd need them in the future, when the urge returned, and you fought against it. She'd need the reminders then.

Instead, she coaxed your face away from your hands, looking intently at you as she spoke.

"You cannot keep doing this. You know that. As your captain, and as your friend, cariño, you need help. We need to get you help."

Your eyes began to well with tears. Alexia took a shaky breath.

"And I know you do not want it, but you deserve it. Can you let me get you help, pequeña? Please?"

You considered for a couple moments. "What if I can't get better? What if... what if I can't?"

Above all, that was your biggest fear. Not being strong enough to beat it. It was why you resisted help; you didn't want to let everyone down if you failed. You wanted to be strong enough, you just weren't convinced you were. You were weak enough to start this, to fall into the horrible loop, to begin with.

"You will, cariño. You know how I know?"

You looked at her, eyes wide and watery. "How?" Your voice cracked, and Alexia took one of your hands in hers.

"Because you do not give up. You are one of the strongest people I know." You looked doubtful, still. "And I don't give up. I will not give up on you. We will get you better, together. You will not have to do any of it alone."

"Do you promise?" You asked, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked at the blonde.

Alexia didn't say anything, she just held out her pinky towards you. You linked your pinkie with hers, and knew, somewhere deep within you, that this wasn't a promise she was going to break.

-----

Alexia did end up telling you all of the things she'd thought of, eventually. She wrote them down in a little note on her phone, not wanting to forget what to say, not when you needed her. Your teammates, the ones who knew, who you trusted enough to let know, used them too.

-----

That it didn't matter what you looked like, being so unkind to your body was never acceptable.

Alexia told you this one evening she spent at your house, after you'd had a long therapy session. You'd arrived home, dissolving into tears, and somehow, she had known you'd needed her.

She showed up on your doorstep like some kind of magical being that could sense when her friends were sad, letting you cry into her for at least an hour.

She'd whispered the words into your hair, when you asked her if she thought getting better was worth it, if it was so painful.

You believed her, that day. Just a little.

-----

She loved you, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of.

She told you this a week later when you slipped up, and you'd called her from your bathroom floor, words unintelligible through your sobs. Alexia dropped everything to come over, and spent a while promising you that relapsing didn't make you a bad person. That you were doing your best, and that was all you could expect from yourself. That relapses were a part of recovering, as much as it sucked.

When she said the words, you believed her, a bit more this time. She'd been at your apartment before you could really even get any words out. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care, if she was disgusted with you. If she didn't love you like she said she did.

-----

Being healthy, above all else, was what mattered, and what you'd been doing wasn't.

This was Ingrid and Mapi. You'd gone over to their house for dinner, which proved to be challenging. You confessed how guilty you felt for eating enough, and how guilty you felt for not eating enough. It was hard to figure out what the right thing was, when everything felt like the wrong decision.

Mapi spoke these words to you, sounding wiser and more sure than you'd ever heard her. You trusted Mapi, you trusted Ingrid. If they said that what you were doing wasn't healthy, they weren't lying. Another piece of you got better that day, even as it was one of the hardest you faced.

-----

You were beautiful, and strong, and your body allowed you to play the sport you loved.

You lost count of who told you this one. Irene, Lucy, Alexia, Ingrid, Mapi, Pina. It became something of a mantra, something they'd make you repeat when they saw you having a bad day.

Because, above all, you loved football.

You learned to love your body for allowing you to play football.

You learned to love your body just for being itself, regardless of what it looked like.

You learned to love yourself, to not put so much pressure on everything you did.

You healed, slowly. You knew, without a doubt, that you couldn't have done it without the team. You didn't want to conceive of a world where you would have to struggle alone, because you weren't. As long as they were around, you never would be.

-----

it's a good thing i have therapy tomorrow!

i joke, although i do have therapy tomorrow.

getting better is so worth it. i promise.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!roommate!simon leaves on an assignment, but he needs your help first. (18+)

more bff!roommate!simon (part 9/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon has thicc thighs, lap sitting, fem+m!receiving touching, thigh riding because i cant resist, soft!dom!simon, praise kink, size kink (reader described to be moved/handled easily by him), the mask doesn't come off, simon is a cocky bastard, a lotta angst

"simon, if you keep moving, i won't be able to finish, quit squirming."

"sorry, luv--afraid you'll prick me with that bloody thing."

you stuck your tongue out at him for a moment before setting back against his thighs. you sat so nicely there, your ass perched on the thick muscle as you worked. you had your tongue between your teeth as you concentrated.

your fingers held a thick needle, weaving it through the fabric of simon's balaclava and the plastic skull plate. he had ruined another piece; he had come home after his last deployment with the skull plate in pieces. he did not explain what had happened to it; you only tried to ignore the streaks of red along the face of it when you watched him throw it away.

you saw him sitting on the couch, trying to sew it together, but his big fingers made it a little difficult; you sweetly asked if you could help. a big plus--you got to sit in simon's lap and bask in the heat of him.

you adjusted, moving around until you were straddling his wide hips. you had to spread your own to accommodate his size, sitting up high to be able to reach the top of his head, weaving the thread through to tie the plastic to the fabric.

"bloody tits are in m'face, luv."

"yeah? never heard a man complain about that before," you laughed lowly. he grunted in response, a gloved hand wrapping around your waist to hold you steady. "what? you don't like 'em?"

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head, and you laughed again, continuing to sew the plastic to the fabric.

"you're gonna look so scary," you smiled wide. "you like looking scary on the field?"

"keeps the little ones at bay."

"everyone's little to you, simon."

"aye."

you snorted, settling in his lap as you were almost finished sewing the mask. you tied off the thick thread when you were finished, using some scissors to cut the excess fabric. you met his eyes as you sat there, and you smiled at him; maybe he did look intimidating, but all you could think about was how those pretty eyes sparkled last night when he came into your hand and how much you were going to miss that look when he was gone.

"the paint, simon?"

he held up a small jar in one hand, and you took a brush from the coffee table and began to draw lines down the face of the mask. you passed over his dark eyes, winking at him playfully before doing the same line on the other half of the mask. you put the brush down, dipping the tip of your manicured finger in it and then starting to draw the lines down where the mouth of his face would be.

you could feel his warm breath against your finger, and you cupped his cheek with your other hand, holding him firm as you drew along the mask.

"i'm going to miss you, simon," you whispered, swallowing hard. you avoided his eyes, focusing on drawing along the cloth. you let out a shaky breath. "i-i mean...i always miss you, but now you're gonna be gone and...whenever you go, you go for a long time, and--"

simon squeezed your waist gently, quieting you. your bottom lip trembled a little, and you looked down, away from him.

"i-i'm sorry. i don't mean to get upset. it's stupid."

stupid. there was nothing stupid about being vulnerable. nothing stupid about baring yourself, being naked to someone in more ways than just the physical. the sex was easy together; it was everything else that simon fought with. feeling. being. loving. the mundane of that love, like coming home.

and coming home was not easy.

"'s not stupid, luv. i know i leave y'here. i know," he shook his head. "i don't do it on purpose, y'know that."

you nodded, "yes, yeah...i know. it's your job. and you're good at your job, and you made a commitment to your team, and they rely on you like you rely on them--i-i know the reasons." you smiled sadly. "i know. i just miss you...that's all."

there was an itch in the back of your head, a hoarseness lodged in your throat--sometimes you wanted to just keep talking, because forbid this be the last time i say it to you.

he hummed lowly, sliding his hands down low and cupping both sides of your ass, bringing you close. you wipe your hands off of the paint, sighing deeply, relaxing as simon leaned back against the couch and held you near. your hands circled around his neck, hugging him back as you breathed in each other--your scent, the sounds of your breath, the feel of each other's warmth.

you cleared your throat, smoothing your hands down simon's cheeks.

"let me get you geared up, yeah?"

you didn't wait for simon to answer. you picked yourself up off his lap, going to where he had his things laid out. you picked up his tactical vest, holsters, his skull-painted gloves, and you brought them back to the couch. simon sat up as you draped the vest over his head, fitting it over his shoulders. you untucked the hood of his jacket from under the vest, making sure it sat right before fastening the straps and making sure it was secure. you tugged on the straps just to make sure, your eyes skimming over the British flag on his chest and the prominent letters spelling SAS.

you busied yourself with switching out his gloves now, replacing the plain black ones with the painted-skull bone gloves. you didn't react to the calloused fingertips or the jagged scars along his hands. simon was so beautiful--every part of him was.

"i'm really proud of you, simon," you said softly. he hummed lowly but said nothing. you kissed his cheek gently, trying to meet his eyes and smile at him. "have i ever told you that?" simon shook his head, his eyes raising to stare intensely right into yours. you bit your lip. "well, i am. proud. you've come so far. they would be proud, too."

you didn't have to specify who they were. simon didn't flinch, but his eyes flickered.

you reached for one of the thigh holsters, sitting back and motioning for him to stand. when he did, you tried not to think about how much simon towered over you like this. he was taller than you, so much broader, taking up so much of your space. you reached up and started to fasten the holsters around his thigh, your fingers skimming the taut muscle there as you buckle it around him. you didn't comment on the fact that you nearly had to loosen the strap all the way just to fit around the thick of him.

you reached for the other holster, fastening it around his other thigh and looking up at him after you had finished. fuck, he looked good like this. he looked so much bigger--the width of him was greater, with you seated, you had to bend your neck back far, and having his back to the window cast low shadows over his face, darkening his gaze and giving him an eerie backlight. but you would never be afraid of simon--even all dressed up.

your lips part gently when his gloved hand cups just under your chin. you mewled lowly, looking up at him with those big eyes and a soft voice. simon knelt down suddenly, widening his thighs to cage you in on the couch and keeping a gentle hold of your chin.

"'m gonna be back before you know it, luv. sittin' right there--" he tilted his head to the spot to your left, "--y'know that, right?"

you broke out into a soft smile, bouncing a little as you nodded your head. simon clenched his jaw under the mask--fuck, you were so cute, so fucking sweet. there was nothing more comforting than knowing you were waiting for him when he came back--that you would be sitting here just like this, with this little smile on your face, your eyes so wide and pretty.

"i know," you whispered. you leaned over, smoothing your hands over the front of his vest before absentmindedly playing with the straps of it. "i know, simon. still going to miss you."

you don't meet his eyes. it was hard; simon was an important part of your life. any time you lived in his absence, it was lonely. now that you lived together, it felt that much lonelier--there was a room cold and unoccupied, an empty seat at the table, a spot on the couch without him in it. his voice soothed no nightmares and his warmth took away none of your shivering. you never told him that when you called; you only spoke of the meal you had cooked that you told him he would like and the annoying step at the entrance that the landlord still hadn't come to mend.

"c'mere."

simon smoothed his gloved hand down your chin, wrapping his fingers delicately around your throat. with a firm grip, he guided you into his lap as he sat back against the couch again, your body easily settling between his thighs again. your face relaxed, cheek smushed against his shoulder as you pressed your lips to the fabric over his neck. you sighed deeply, legs resting on either side of one of his thighs.

your head tilted back, your eyes peeking up to look at him. he moved his own head to the side, and beneath the skull, you could see those pretty dark eyes--beautiful, undeniable need in them. simon was terrible at hiding what he felt behind his eyes--they were warm, and his pupils were dilated, and you wondered if he saw the same pretty things in you that you saw in him.

your eyes fluttered when you felt one hand slide down the length of your spine. a warm, gentle hand, smoothing along the back of your shirt before cupping one side of your ass. you whined, a soft little sound escaping as you jumped slightly. your legs squeezed around his thigh, and you let out a gasp at the gentle grind. you reached up and cupped one side of his face at the first trace of pleasure, your lips pressing to the other side of it as he encouraged you to do it again.

you did. following his guiding hand, you dragged your hips up again, a strangled moan leaving you as you grind against his thigh. but it wasn't enough--as you moved, you whimpered against simon's face, letting out hot breaths of frustration. your jeans were too much of a barrier, not allowing for enough stimulation, and you felt pathetic when you heard simon's low chuckle.

"awww, sweetheart...look at ya..." he reached up with one paw of a hand and tangled a gloved hand into your hair, tugging on it firmly. he grunted as he watched your mouth fall open, slack jawed, drooling a little as you squeezed your thighs around his own. "look at tha'face. fuckin' beautiful, innit? that face you make when you want your cunny all nice and wet...when you want it pet..."

you cried out at that, nuzzling your face into his mask, kissing at the fabric and licking over the strong line of his jaw and hoping to god that he would have mercy on his pretty little roommate. that he would have mercy on her pretty face, on his name tumbling out of her mouth, on the way she grinded on his thigh like a lovesick bunny in heat.

"sound pathetic, luv..." he gripped the back of your neck, holding you at a distance now. he gripped the front of your jeans roughly, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. "now be a good puppy and take 'em off."

you shimmied out of your jeans, slipping them down your legs and kicking out of them. you were about to slip your panties off, pretty pink lace that hugged your ass so cute, but simon stopped you, forcing you back down to straddle his thigh.

"i like these," he murmured. "want them on."

you smiled, putting both hands on his vest. you gripped it tight, as tight as you could handle kevlar and bulletproof material, and then you nuzzled your face into mouth of his mask and began to ride his thigh. you were shaking. the straps of his holster were catching on your clit, and your hands were growing clammy as you tried to hold onto him for stability. you wanted to be good. you wanted to show simon how good you could be, how if he just unzipped his cargo pants and dropped them low enough, you could ride his cock so good, he'd see the fucking stars.

you hitched yourself higher on his leg, your thighs squeezing around the meat of his thigh, and he grunted lowly when your knee met his crotch. as you bounced, you rubbed up against him, and you squeaked when his gloved hand gripped your hair roughly, forcing your lips against the front of his mask. your mouth dropped open into a silent scream, a choked moan leaving you, and you kept going. you needed to show him, he needed to know--he needed to know that you wanted him, that you wanted this.

you let one hand drop, fall from his vest, and he growled out a string of angry curses when that soft hand gripped his cock through his pants. it was rough, a little aggressive, and you met his eyes easily.

"i want it--i-i want it--!" you cried. "i w-want more--"

he chuckled, and you felt tears prickling the edges of your big eyes as he laughed. your heart ached because you knew he was laughing at you. you sounded broken. you sounded lost. you sounded pathetic, but you couldn't care, you just couldn't bring yourself to. you needed more with simon.

you were tired of the in-between. you were sick of what if, when, the maybes that surrounded the unspoken thing between you. every grind of your hips, every drop of your slick that dampened his pants, all of it was just something in you screaming what are we?

he called your name, and you wanted to care about what he thought, but you needed him to know. you slipped your arms around his neck, moving until you straddled his hips, pressing your cunt right over the hardness stuck in his zipper and continuing your desperate pace.

you were going to make him understand this feeling inside. the gnawing in your chest--the thing that wanted to be outside so bad, it would claw its way out, it would force its fingers through your throat until simon could see that this wasn't a mistake.

this wasn't forgotten moments that lingered after dark. this wasn't the inevitable of a man and a woman who lived together. this was the catalyst of a bond too strong. two things, unable to be taken apart, to be reduced to separate things. there was not a simon riley without you, and there was no you without simon riley, and if he couldn't understand that, you didn't think you would survive the homecoming.

so you were going to fuck simon riley until he understood the knot was tight, and it would never unravel.

"kitty, wait--"

but he couldn't stop you. you swallowed his words, moaning desperately against the mask, your hips chasing the warm buzz that was creeping up your chest and down your thighs, your toes clenching as you notched the tip of his cock right up against your clit and fucked yourself harder against the smooth fabric of his pants.

"kitty--fuckin' christ--"

you sobbed, squeezing the back of his neck as you soaked his pants. your hips stuttered, small little circles that you made as you tried to ride out the trickle of warmth that was covering you like a comforting, pleasurable wave. your body relaxed, and you sucked on his jaw through the mask, tasting the musk and cigarette smoke that lingered there.

"simon--p-please--"

he grunted, pressing on the back of your head to tuck your face into his neck. you sniffled, moody and emotional from coming so hard, and you shook your head.

"y'r not ready for it. not time yet."

"i am," you sounded like such a baby. a cock-drunk pretty little roommate that needed something so desperately, she was so scared of what she might do to have it. to have him. "i am, please--"

"luv--"

"it's not fair," you gasped, pulling back from him. you stared up at him, and he hummed lowly, reaching up to wipe the tears that gathered under your eyes. "it's not fair, why--why can't i--?"

he tsked, clicking his tongue as he got to his feet, and your eyes lowered as he cursed under his breath, adjusting his pants, and you felt a sliver of victory as you realize that you made simon cum in his pants like a teenager.

"i w-won't wait forever."

the air in the room changed immediately. it came out of your mouth faster than you could stop it, and you tensed against the couch as his head turned, snapping to look at you.

"wot? wot did y'just say?"

"nothing."

"look at me."

you grit your teeth as he leaned down and knocked you under the chin, forcing your head to tilt back.

"wot did you just say?"

"nothing," you repeated, firmer this time. his eyes narrowed, two black, dull eyes staring down at you. his gaze was intense, and it was meant to scare you, but simon could never scare you. deep down, you knew he would never hurt you, at least not physically.

emotionally, simon had your heart in his hands, and those hands were not made to nurture. they were made to make pretty roommates cum and to pull dirty triggers. but nowhere in that did it say they were made to love you. nowhere did it specify he would keep it safe. you had given it up, before you had even realized, and he was playing you like his favorite instrument.

but simon didn't know how to play music. and there was a part of you that knew nothing about this was in tune.

when he goes, he doesn't say goodbye. and when you cried, it echoed in an empty room.

you would not wait forever. i will not wait forever.

he will not wait forever.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

[ddejavvu]

Reader who makes Aaron blush!!!!! Maybe the bau are out together after a case has wrapped up, and the reader says sm cute to him and he starts blushing and everyone starts teasing them <3

There's a woman that nearly walks into a table while passing your own in the bar, and you can't really blame her. Your team is a gorgeous bunch, but you suspect the woman's eyes had been singling out the tall, dark, and handsome figure of your boss.

Her friends helps yank her out of the way before she can topple the table, and she seems too embarrassed at her near-spill to come over, if that had been her intention in the first place. You're glad, because even if you can't blame her for finding Aaron handsome, you can be jealous.

"Poor thing," Emily tuts, "Derek, button your shirt up a bit, you're causing traffic jams."

Morgan grins at her observation, but you down the last of your drink for the courage you need to speak.

You attempt it casually: "I dunno. Seemed like she was eyeing up Mr. Smokeshow over here," You nod towards Aaron, then glance around at everyone's glasses, "Anyone need a refill?"

"Me, please." JJ recovers quickly from her barely-masked delight, having clocked your not-so-subtle crush on Hotch from the beginning. She slides her glass over to you and you catch it before it can hit the ground, looking back up at everyone else.

"Mine, JJ's, anyone else?"

"We're good." Reid decides, his smile tight-lipped, "Thanks, L/N."

You take your leave with a nod and a grin, hoping they don't notice the slight tremor in your hands as you turn away with the glasses. They barely wait until you're out of earshot to round on Hotch, and he's glad he hadn't given you his drink so that he can bury his burning cheeks in it.

"Mr. Smokeshow," Derek kicks him beneath the table with a shit-eating grin, "Hey, bet no one's ever called you that before."

"Derek-"

"Maybe you can have it engraved on a plaque for your desk," Rossi goads, "You can just throw out the one you've got, your name doesn't matter anymore."

"Dave. She was kidding." Aaron scolds, and JJ thumps her fist on the table.

"She was not kidding! Oh, my god, you are absolutely impossible! She likes you," JJ levels him with a knowing stare, "What is it going to take for you to believe it, her dropping to her knees?"

"Well what if she's just tying his shoe?" Emily frowns in mock worry, "You have to be careful about that sort of thing."

"I do have to be careful," Hotch insists, keeping a wary eye on you to be sure you're still occupied and out of earshot, "Expressing interest in a member of my team would be disastrous if they didn't feel the same."

"Yeah, but she does feel the same," Reid gives Aaron a pitying glance, "I'm not exactly the BAU's matchmaking expert, but I know that."

"She's coming back," Penelope elbows Reid, and the man winces as her arm hits his slender side, "Everyone shut up!"

"Here," You slide JJ her drink back, taking your seat beside Derek and across from Hotch, "What did I miss?"

"Oh, the usual," Emily shrugs, but there's delight dancing in her eyes, "Just talking about blowjobs."

Your eyes shoot wide in surprise but you stifle a laugh into the rim of your glass, "Oh, yeah. That's what I thought. Who are we blowing?"

"No one." Aaron clears his throat, nearly choking on the last of his drink that he downs, "I changed my mind, I'll go for a refill."

He seems much more calm and collected as he beelines for the bar than you had, but you try not to stare too long at his departure lest someone catches on. Apparently, though, they already have; you turn back to the table and six pairs of eyes are on you, all accompanied by identical grins.

You don't let them get a single word out as you raise your glass to your lips, "Shut up."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner au