#i’m halfway through but i know what happened but also don’t tell me anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugarcoatedstarkey · 5 months

Note

hate sex. rafe or drew idc, u have total creative freedom w my suggestion!

Hate Sex

Pairing - Drew Starkey x costar!reader

Summary - good old hate sex.

Warnings - sexual intercourse, fingering, language, choking, name calling. 18+

The anger bubbled in your chest, rising up your neck leaving behind a dark pink tinge to your skin. You had never let Drew get to you this bad before, you were pulling at the roots of your hair just thinking about his punchable but good looking face.

“Breath Y/n” your friend stated, she had hidden herself behind the very small table in your trailer. She was quite frightened when you let your anger out.

She jumped halfway into the air when you threw your phone at the floor, shattering the screen in the process.

“Now look what that fucker has made me do!” You all but screeched, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go and speak to him, how DARE he talk about you like that in an interview.

“Oh no no no, you can’t go speaking to him when you're this angry! He didn’t do anything wrong!” Your friend shouted, slamming her palm over her mouth when she realized what she let slip.

“How could you side with him?!”

“Oh come off it y/n, he said lovely things about you!”

“All very untrue things! He made me look like some weak girl who was falling at his knees.. no you know what I’m leaving!”

Before your friend could stop you, you darted out the trailer door and sprinted for him. Exactly 23 steps later your fist pounded at his trailer, you didn’t wait for him to answer and stormed in.

Drew stood in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower half, steam filling the very small shower. Both Chase and Austin sat on the couch staring at you with wide eyes, the sound of the PlayStation in the background echoed through the deafening silence from the four of you.

“What’s up y/n?” Drew sang, giving you his famous boy next door grin. You just wanted to rip his face off but also kiss his face off.

“How dare you?!” You yelled, Drew’s eyes creased together in the middle as he looked at you in confusion. “Want to enlighten me on what I’ve done now sweetcheeks?” He chuckled, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door. Your eyes dropped for only a moment when a bead of water ran down his chest and dissolved into the towel.

He gave you a knowing look that you shook off. “What’s all that shit you said in the interview?” You questioned, he let out a throaty laugh. Almost a cackle. This had you wild, you stormed towards him with curled fists at your side. “Don’t laugh! You made me out to be some weak girl, talking about how I’m the main person who laughs at your jokes on set, that I always get emotional at old couples!” You shouted, the old couple remark was true.

You did get emotional BUT that didn’t give him the right to tell people, it’s your personal life, personality. They get what they get, they don’t need to know the deeper version of you.

“Y/n, Come on. I wasn’t doing it out of spite” he stated, he was frustrated now. You always jump on him the second you can, yelling down his throat and making him feel like everything he does is wrong. “I honestly don’t give a shit! Don’t talk about me in interviews again!”

He rolled his eyes and looked over your shoulder at your friends, they had both gotten up ready to bounce. They hated being around when the two of you fought.

“Don’t roll your eyes! God! Drew you're so frustrating!”

“Me?! Me, frustrating? You talk some shit y/n, your always down my throat”

“Because you're always being so difficult!”

“Maybe you should lighten up a little and realize I’m a decent human being and your just angry at the world”

“Fuck you Drew”

“No, fuck you”

It happens in a split second, you're both reaching for each other. Your lips hastily press together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands cup your jaw, your tongues fight with one another. Even kissing, you have to be fighting.

“That’s our que” you heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to pull away. One of his hands drops from your face, grasping onto your waist he pulls you closer to his body.

“You're still annoying” you breathe, his lips trail down your neck. Sucking at the flesh between your collarbone and throat. Your nails scratched down the length of his back leaving deep red lines.

“You're still a bitch” he bit, pushing you towards the couch. Your back met the cushion with a thump, his body trailed behind closely. Parting your legs so he could slot between them.

You had forgotten he was only in a towel, which now parted giving you the most glorious view of his thick hard cock. “Shit” you whined, practically forcing his body down on yours. His hands bunched up your dress to expose your cotton thong, his cock nudged at your pussy.

“How can someone so annoying be blessed with such a perfect cock” you spoke, his chuckle was muffled by the skin of your chest.

“How can someone so frustrating be so fucking hot” he commented, his mouth left kisses along the apex of your chest. You pushed yourself to sit up, pulling the material of your dress over your head.

You now sat in just your panties, his hands palming at your breasts. “Fuck you” you moaned, his teeth pulling your hardened nub. Suckling at your nipple, while the other hand grabbed your ass cheek. “I’m getting their baby” he whispered, the pet name sending shivers down your spine.

“Touch me”.

His fingers dipped under the material of your panties, sliding his pointer and forefinger between your fold and back up to your clit. “Oh shit, yeah like that” you cried, grinding your pussy into his hand. Slipping his two fingers into your cunt, you bite down on his shoulder as he finger fucked you. Pressing the palm of his hand into your clit at the same time, sending your body into overdrive. “You like that? Of course the little bitch likes to be fingerbanged hm? Been thinking about these fingers inside of you huh?” He grunted, brows creased in the middle. He watched your face intently, the way your mouth dropped opened and you gasped for more breath.

“Answer me!”

“YES yes oh fuck yes! Wanted these fingers in me since I met you” you screamed, his dick twitching at your statement. Your moans bounced off the wall and you were sure everyone could hear.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, a slur of protest fell from your lips. “What the fuck Drew?!”.

“Get up and sit on my cock, quit whining and do what I say for once you little slut”.

The vulgarity to his words had your insides fluttering like a damn school girl, pulling your panties down and straddling his hips.

Reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock, giving him a rough few tugs. “Fuck… what I’d do to have your pretty little mouth around my cock right now.” He groaned, his head arched against the backrest of the couch. You began to slide off him, his hands catching your hips before you could get on your knees.

“Right now I want your tight little cunt to sit on my cock, next time I’ll stuff your throat with my cock and make you eat the angry words that you constantly spit out”.

Your ears pricked up at the next part, unbothered by the way he spoke to you. “Fuck you Drew” you spat, his large hand held the base of his cock for you. The tip of his bright pink head nudged at your opening, you took him in painfully slow. Your eyes rolling back as his cock stretched you wide, your hands pressed against his chest for leverage. “Oh-h… oh” you cried, his cock buried deep within your walls.

He gives you a moment to adjust, eyes staring hard at your expressions. The moment your eyes reopened he was bringing your body up and down on him harshly, causing a string of curse words to slip from your mouth.

Your tits bounced in his face, you finally brought yourself out of the sex daze you had fallen into and moved your hips, grinding against him roughly.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his throat, his eyes were wild. Dark and full of lust, watching you gnaw at your lip. “That’s it pretty girl, fuck my cock like its best goddamn cock you’ve ever had”.

Your nodding your head in agreement, “the best fucking cock, so big” you cried, unaware you had just agreed to him. You were so drunk on dick, you had forgotten how much he irritated you.

“That’s right, best goddamn cock you’ve had. Show me how much you love it” he ordered, and you obliged. Riding him like your life depended on it, throwing your head back. Your nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, his fingers grabbing your waist tightly.

“Fuck! Just like that!” He groaned, his hands caressed your back. Ducking his head to envelope your nipple into his mouth. “Yes yes yes yes yes” you mumbled, your bodies had a light sheen of sweat to it. “Move” he order, pulling you up from his cock only to spin you around. Pushing your knees into the cushion of the couch and thrusting his cock back into you.

“SHIT!” You cried, clawing at the back of the couch. His large hand pushed you down against the couch, putting one of his legs into the couch to give himself a better angle to fuck into you. “Yeah you like it rough huh”.

The angle of his cock had you in tears, overwhelming pleasure coursed through you. “Of course you like it rough, you’re a dirty angry slut” He could feel you where close, the way your pussy walls fluttered around him, reaching around to grasp your neck and pulling out of you. “DREW! You asshole” you cried, the pleasure that had building in your lower stomach fizzled out only to reignite when his fingers closed around your neck.

“Jump”

You did as order and wrapped your legs around him, he slipped his cock back into you. Moving you both just enough so your bum sat against the bench, ruthlessly he fucked into you. Squeezing his finger around your throat, your own hand coming around to grip his wrist, you screamed and cried in pleasure.

“You dirty little slut! Who knew you were more than just a whining bitch” he spat, pressing his lips to yours before you could fight back. Your fingers scratched up and down his back, the only way you could tell him he was an asshole.

“Drew” you warned, your pussy walls pulsating around his cock and you chased your high. “You're gonna come? Go on then pretty girl, come around my cock” he urges.

His hips move faster and deeper, dropping his finger between you to fondle your clit.

“Holy shit! Oh o-oh!” You cried, letting the overwhelming pleasure knock you over. Curling your toes and tightening your legs around him, your pussy pulsated around his cock. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders trying to ground yourself.

He wrapped her arm around your waist tightly and followed suit, coming deep inside of you. “Fuck fuck fucking hell”.

His sweaty forehead met your chest, both your breathing labored. A few moments of silent breaths go by and he pulls away from you, helping you down from the bench.

“This doesn’t mean I suddenly like you” you comment, stepping around him to collect your dress. Rushing into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

A few moments and words to yourself go by and you open the bathroom door; eyes searching the floor for your panties.

“Looking for these?” He questioned as you stepped out, holding onto your thong with his finger like a prize.

“Fuck you”

“Just did”

Taglist - @laylasbunbunny @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @jjmaybankisbae

3K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 11 months

Note

stevie smut based on those boat photos is not a want, but a need

18+

Steve’s initial glimmers gold on your sun-kissed skin — a swirled S in the middle of a dainty chain.

Despite its simple statement, you know it must’ve cost him a fortune. That’s not to say he even noticed the small dent it made in his bank account, of course. You know he bought it for you without thinking twice. But to you, still a broke college student at heart, the tiny thing feels so much heavier.

Imposter syndrome creeps up your spine like the cold hand of a ghost.

Just yesterday, you were studying for finals, and now you’re on a yacht off the coast of Venice. Six months ago, you were living in a slum of a studio apartment on a top ramen only diet. Now you’re in Italy, with real gold around your neck, on a boat that wasn’t yours, drinking wine you didn’t pay for.

You know it’s all because of Steve just as much as you know he’s doing this for you because he loves you. You just can’t believe that it’s happening to you.

What did you do to deserve any of this? To deserve Steve? What could you possibly give him in return to show how grateful you are for all of it? What do you give him that he can’t already buy?

“What are you thinking about, hm?” the boy himself questions as he appears in front of the leather couch you’re lounging on. He holds two glasses in his hands, one full of whiskey and the other white wine. He hands the latter off to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently in return. Your sundress falls to your lap when your knees bend to invite him next to you. His arm curls around your legs to pull them back over his khaki-clad lap when he sits down. His hand rests on your bare thigh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he argues, squeezing softly at the plush skin — not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you giggle into your wine. “You’re doing the thinking face.”

“I am not doing the thinking face.”

“You so are,” he counters with a gentle grin and sparkling eyes. You didn’t think unbelievably wealthy guys could be as cute as he was. “What is it? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No. I’m good.”

“Do you feel okay? Are you seasick?”

His tone is soft with concern. He’s already got himself all worried.

Steve’s hand leaves your thigh to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, forcing his honey locks back in the process. A few ornery strands still hang over his forehead. His chocolate eyes, deeper than a thousand oceans, melt with concern. “Do you need me to call another boat? Should we go back to the hotel—”

Your giggling puts an end to his panicked rambling. He squints while you hide your smile with your wine glass. “What?” he lilts with a smile, still halfway worried that you’re coming down with sunstroke.

“Nothing,” you hum when the laughing fit ebbs like a low tide. You tilt your head to your shoulder and smile. “I just love you.”

You swear you see him sigh in relief.

“Oh, you’re just lovesick, huh? That it?”

The way he coos at you — sounding almost degrading even though you know he’s only joking — makes your thighs squeeze shut. His warm fingers are caught between them.

“Very,” you nod like you’re proud to be. Because you are.

You’re lucky to love a guy like Steve. Even luckier that he loves you back.

Wind whips through the collar of his white button-up as he props his elbow on the back of the couch, facing you more. The top of his shirt is unclasped to reveal the cinnamon scruff on his chest that he also sports on his unshaven jaw.

He’s too hot to smile so sweetly down at you.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, obviously insincere as he scrunches his nose. “Think I might’ve given you the lovebug…”

You shrug. “’S okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… As long as you stay sick with it forever.”

Steve’s sculpted features melt as he gazes down at you. He goes kind like he’s about to tell you how stupid you are for even thinking he could be anything other than crazy for you.

Despite the strange angle, he begins to lean toward you, sitting his whiskey down on the glass table in the process. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna be sick over you for the rest of my life.”

“Ew,” you giggle at his wording, reaching for his stubbly cheek anyway. You scoot slightly over to accommodate his body.

Your mouth puckers for an innocent kiss that he’s more than happy to give you — one, two, then three of them, to be exact. The fourth one is far too languid to be called a peck, too wet and too full of tongue.

You sigh against him at the tenderness of it, like a first love or a last one.

Steve’s hand is still pressed between your warm thighs, still trapped between them lest he think about moving it. His other bends at the elbow to prop himself up. It’s not like he’s going anywhere anyway, not from where he’s squished between your body and the back of the couch — with your legs thrown over him and your free hand clutching his face to yours. The other is wrapped around his neck and still holding your wine.

You lick sinfully into his mouth, like a kitten to milk, just before you part from him.

“Wanna buy you a necklace, too,” you tell him, breathless and quiet and seemingly out of the blue.

A crooked smile quirks on the right side of his rosy mouth. He knows you can’t afford it. The thought is cute, anyway. “Yeah?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as your hand curls around the base of his neck. You can feel the thrumming of his pulse against your thumb.

“Wanna put my initial here,” you confess lowly, glassy eyes never leaving his honeyed ones. “Want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

“Too?” he echoes with a smile, too full of love to be smug. His hand twists between your thighs and moves like syrup beneath your dress. He cups your bikini-clad cunt and grins. “‘Cause you’re mine, huh? Is that it?”

You nod.

A moan leaves in a fragile sigh from your parted lips when his finger sneaks beneath the fabric. He rubs you, up and down one time, just to feel how wet you are and to smile when he finds you’re soaking.

“Always been,” you tell him through bated breaths.

“Always been.” He repeats it like a vow. When he leans down again, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re heartbroken when his lips meet your warmed cheek.

You taste like lotion and sunshine, like new adventures and nostalgia.

“Let’s get you to a bed, yeah? So you can show me who I belong to.”

He says it like a courtesy, like he’s giving you an ounce of the power he normally keeps for himself. But you know your place. You know he’ll ruin you soon enough. You’ll forget your own name before you can make him repeat it for you.

You love it.

Steve rises off you and extends a hand to help you up, too. You trail happily behind him, knowing where he’s leading you — what he’s leading you to.

Your glasses sit abandoned beside one another, going warm beneath an orange sun.

—————

“God, honey. Fuck,” Steve swears.

His grunts mix with the sinful slapping of your thighs against his lap. His happy trail and trimmed bush are soaked with the slick you drip for him. He squeezes the plush of your hips to help guide you up and down over his cock.

“Takin’ my dick like a fuckin’ champ, baby. Like you were made for it, huh?”

You nod, slacked mouth and panting. Little whimpers spill from your swollen lips every time you move down over him, every time he hits the spongy spot deep within you that only he could ever reach. It feels like so many little strikes of purple lightning — too much to bear, but still not enough.

His golden initial sways above your breasts as your tits bounce in front of his face. He desperately wants a taste of you, to take your stiff nipple into his mouth, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“You’re so pretty, honey, you know that?” he babbles, heavy eyes flitting back up to your fucked-out face. It’s hard to talk with your snug cunt squeezing him somehow tighter. His words spill through gritted teeth. “Pussy’s pretty, too. And so— fuck— so good for me. Shit, honey… ‘M gonna come if you keep riding me like this…”

You moan in a delicate cry at his admission. Pride swells in your chest to know you’re making your boy feel as good as you do.

One hand clutches the pillow beside his head while the other takes purchase on his neck, the place you’ve got a newfound adoration for. You don’t choke him, though. You’re too gentle for all that. But not so gentle that you don’t know how to kiss him breathless.

Your mouth engulfs his own, swallowing him whole and making him forget whose air he’s breathing.

His hands trail from your hips to your ass. He grips the fattiest part with wide, warm palms and spreads them apart. He imagines how his cock must look sinking into you, shining with your honey and his pearly pre-come. He imagines your fluttering cunt swiping against his heavy balls.

You hear him spank you before you feel it.

The smack comes just before the high heat that blooms across your right asscheek. “Steve,” you moan, unabashedly needy for him as ride him harder than you had been just before. The way he hit you felt like encouragement, rough but still tender.

The bed begins to rock beneath you like the yacht your man has put you on and the bright blue sea that carries the two of you.

Your wet cunt sucks his cock inside of you, taking him deeper and deeper even though the feeling of him so far within you borders on painful. Desperate and whining for him, you keep taking him like you were made to do it.

Because you were.

“Yeah, keep bouncing, honey. Doing so good for me,” he manages a fucked-out smile when low squelches start to fill the lavish studio. “Pussy’s perfect baby— god, fuck.”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you tighten around him, tossing his head back on the fluffy pillow that you grip for dear life.

“No pussy’s ever been this good for me, you know that? Always so good… How am I— shit— How am I ever supposed to stop fucking you, huh?”

“Don’t,” you squeak out. It’s the first intelligible thing you’ve said since you started riding him. You pout, scrunched browed and jutted lip, as your orgasm creeps up your sweat-slick spine. “Don’t want you to ever stop fucking me.”

Steve nearly bursts right then.

He doesn’t mean to take over — to hold your hips still and prop you above him while he plants his feet on the mattress. He doesn’t mean to fuck up into you, but he’s gone just as stupid as you have. His cock twitches and jerks within your snug pussy, and he wants so desperately to come. More than that, he wants to make you come like he knows you’re bound to.

“Yeah? You love my dick, don’t you?” he laughs through bated breaths — like he isn’t rightfully dumb over your pussy. “You always get so slutty for it.”

You don’t know if you want to protest or agree with him. All you do is moan as your fingers dig into his furry chest. The wet slap of his balls against your ass entwines with your cries and his taunts.

“Yeah, you do,” Steve coos, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He still talks so softly to you like he isn’t fucking you for all you’re worth. “Go ahead, honey, cream on my dick. Make a mess for me… Gonna sit you on my face after, okay? I bet you’ll taste so sweet for me when I’m done with you.”

Your mouth falls in a silent cry. Your pussy spasms around him at the thought of his mouth between your legs, slurping at your honey and his come that leaks from your gaping hole.

“Get yourself there for me, baby,” he commands in a gentle murmur. “Take this dick. Take what you’re given—”

And just like always, you do.

You orgasm on his stiff cock a second later — not coming, but gushing. His heavy cock jerks inside you right after, spitting several warm loads into your trembling cunt.

His wide hands find purchase on your sweat-slick back, holding you to his scruffy chest while his hips buck against you, pushing his dick as far as you’ll take him. And, like the good girl you are, you take him all the way.

You take everything he gives you — come, orgasms, and gold necklaces alike.

When your senses return and your heavy breaths go even, Steve feels you smile against his neck. He thinks he must have fucked you so sufficiently stupid that all you can do is grin through the rippling aftershocks of your high.

That’s only half true.

You just know that he’s worked up an appetite after having fucked you so ardently. And you figure he won’t need a piece of jewelry with your initial on it when he’s wearing your come on his chin.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fic #stevie drabble #st drabbles

2K notes · View notes

unfinishedslurs · 1 year

Text

bedsharing (future stobin lavender marriage) (steddie)

“Why do you have tampons in your bathroom?” Eddie asks, toweling off his hair. “Wouldn’t your mom just keep them in hers?”

“They’re Robin’s.”

He can feel Eddie’s eyes on the back of his neck, and turns around from where he’s hastily folding his clothes. He has another towel wrapped around his hips, and Steve’s gaze drifts there before snapping back up to his face.

“What?” He asks.

“I thought you guys weren’t together.”

Steve sighs. “Just because I have tampons for when she stays over—“

“It’s just—why wouldn’t they be in the guest bathroom?”

“She stays in my room,” he says, and then realizes how that sounds. “Okay, yeah, but we’re not dating. That’s never gonna happen.”

“So you’re just hooking up?”

Steve instinctively makes a face, and Eddie’s eyebrows jut up. “No. I’m not her type, and even if I was, at this point that ball has left the court. I don’t like her like that, she definitely doesn’t like me like that, and next time Henderson tries to convince someone we’re soulmates I’m going to wring his little neck.”

“I thought you said you were soulmates.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“Just enough that she sleeps in your bed and has tampons in your bathroom, apparently.” Eddie bends over to wrap his hair in the towel, and Steve spends a long moment staring at the curve of his bare spine.

“Hey, man,” he says belatedly. “We got caught off guard one time. I’m not doing that again.”

Two loads of laundry, and Robin had cried in anger and embarrassment. Steve of ‘83 would have found it disgusting. Steve of now was a little grossed out, but also had been bled on in ways much worse than a period, so he just took her out to milkshakes and stocked up on enough supplies to last for a lifetime. After that, all bets were off when it came to the few boundaries they had left.

Eddie grimaces in acknowledgment, grabbing the pair of sweatpants on the bed. Steve turns around before the towel drops, because years of locker room experience can’t possibly prepare him for seeing Eddie Munson’s naked ass.

“So no dreams of a white wedding and gaggles of grandchildren running around?”

“I mean, we’ll probably get married at some point,” Steve says absently, fiddling with his bedspread to keep from turning around. He can have self control. He’s capable of not ogling his friends. “It’ll be safer that way.” Shit, why did he say that? He might as well hang a neon sign that says QUEER over his head. “Easier,” he corrects himself, knowing damn well it’s useless.

There’s a thud and a groan, and Steve whirls around to see Eddie on the ground, halfway into his pants.

“Are you okay?”

“So you’re not together, and you’re not hooking up, but you’ll get married?” Eddie demands from the floor, wiggling into his sweats. “And…what? Have a loveless, sexless marriage? Because it’s easy?”

“Just because the love isn’t romantic doesn’t mean our marriage would be loveless,” he protests, mind whirling with excuses he can’t use. Why did he open his big mouth? Why couldn’t he have just said anything else?

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he shrugs, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “We’re already going to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well get some legal benefits out of it.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie laughs, disbelieving. “Getting married for legal benefits and safety. Harrington, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this sounds like—“

“Sounds like what?” Steve cuts through what Eddie was about to say. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s a bone-deep certainty that Eddie will end up on the truth if he keeps talking. “Are you coming to bed or not, man?”

Eddie falls silent in the middle of standing up, dark eyes pinning Steve to the spot. He knows, Steve thinks, and tries not to picture what Robin would say if he got another concussion. He hasn’t confirmed anything, and Eddie seems like a good guy, maybe even their kind of guy, but if he’s wrong then he’d better grab Robin fast and get the hell out of dodge. Dustin might forgive him eventually, if he knew the reason why.

The silence is getting unbearable.

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie finally shrugs. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I want the left side.”

“You asshole,” Steve hisses, pretending the relief in his chest isn’t damn near killing him. “You know that’s the side I sleep on.”

#menstration #period mention #bedsharing au #stranger things fanfic #sorry robin hasn't been in any yet i promise she's coming soon #i love lavender marriage stobin they are my everything #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

bedsyandco · 4 months

Text

Soon you’ll get better

❥ — ꒰ pairing ꒱ lani x quinn hughes

❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ the aftermath of the accident

❥ — ꒰ content ꒱ talks of an accident, medical injuries, death, miscarriage. incorrect medical talk and diagnosis…obviously i’m not a doctor and this is fiction!! unedited. will be edited later!!

❥ — ꒰ note ꒱ title bc I listened to the song while writing!!

Eight and a half hours later when the Hughes family arrived in Vancouver and at the hospital, Quinn was still in the same position he had been the entire night. Sat on the floor, his arms rested on his bent legs, his head rested against the wall. When he saw his family arriving he mustered the little energy he had left after not sleeping last night, to push himself up and meet them halfway across the waiting room.

“Oh Quinn,” is all his mom said as she wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him for a few minutes. Afterwards he gave his dad a long hug, no word being exchanged there because what could he say?

“Have you heard anything?” Violet asks as Quinn hugs her.

“Not really. The doctor comes out every few hours to tell me that she’s still stable and that they’re doing everything they can but… it’s been hours and…” Quinn says, tearing up again and he wipes his face frustratedly.

“You should get some sleep,” Jack suggests softly and Quinn just glares at him.

“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn responds

“Quinn we’ll wake you-”

“I’m not sleeping until I know she’s okay,” Quinn repeats and Jack nods.

Jack understood. So did Luke. He spent the 8 hour flight over there thinking about what he would do if God forbid something ever happened to Violet. He determined that Violet was gonna live way longer than him and that he’d never have to live that horrible life without her, nothing was ever allowed to happen to her. Luke wraps his arms tightly around her again, kissing her neck where he could feel her pulse and the pressure in his chest lessens a bit but it returns when he goes back to observing his older brother.

“Do you know how it happened yet?” Jim asks and Quinn nods

“She was on her way to the restaurant, a truck lost control on the road and Lani swerved to miss it, her car rolled off the road and crashed straight into a pole. Apparently she’s lucky she swerved otherwise she would have died on impact with the truck. Doesn’t feel very fucking lucky though, does it?” Quinn asks angrily and everyone flinches a little when he curses but all of them remain silent. Not quite sure what to say.

“God, if I had just…gone home and picked her up. Or cancelled the damn dinner. You know I can’t even really remember what my life was like before the past year, before her. And I can’t even imagine what it would look like without her,” Quinn says, his voice cracking at the end.

“You don’t have to imagine it. Lani’s gonna be okay Quinn. She’s gonna pull through,”Jack says, pulling his brother into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna go get us some coffee,” Blue says to Violet softly and she leaves just as the doctor appears.

“Mr. Hughes?” the doctor asks from a distance away and Quinn walks closer, so only he would hear what the doctor was saying, scanning the doctor’s face for any clues as to what he should prepare for, but the doctor’s face doesn’t give anything away.

“Is she okay?” Quinn asks desperately

“Ms. Reed is out of surgery and will be moved to recovery now. She had extensive injuries. She had multiple fractured bones in her arm, and shoulder. She also took a major blow to the head and there was some internal bleeding that we were able to stop luckily. One of her lungs was punctured-” the doctor’s words get caught off by Quinn turning towards the garbage can to vomit.

“I’m good, you can continue” Quinn rasps out as the doctor sends him a concerned look.

“The list of injuries is long Mr. Hughes but the most important thing is that she’s okay and she’ll make a full recovery. Physically at least. Unfortunately Ms. Reed suffered a miscarriage because of the physical trauma and shock her body went through because of the accident and there was nothing we could do,” the doctor says softly and Quinn stops breathing for a second.

“Miscarriage?” Quinn asks, not quite comprehending the fact that Lani was…

“Ms. Reed was pregnant prior to the accident. She wasn’t very far along…7-8 weeks potentially. It was likely that she didn’t even know yet. There was no permanent damage done and she should have no problem getting pregnant again in the future. I can be the one to tell her if you don’t feel-”

“No, I’ll do it,” Quinn immediately responds, knowing it would be better if it came from him.

“Someone will be out shortly to take you to her room. I’m very sorry for your loss,” the doctor says sympathetically before walking away again and Quinn has to lean against the wall for a second to process what he just heard. The doctor obviously assumed correctly that the baby was his since he told them him and Lani were engaged despite their very obvious missing rings.

Lani is pregnant. Was pregnant. Was.

Quinn walks back towards his family, a little dazed. His lack of sleep and shock of what happened in the past 24 hours finally caught up to him.

“She’s gonna be okay,” is all Quinn says because Lani should be the first person he tells about the baby, and maybe she doesn’t want other people to know and Quinn wanted to make sure he respected those wishes.

Everyone practically deflates with relief and his parents take a seat on the chairs, his mom letting out a few tears.

“Luke and I are gonna stop by your apartment. Get you some clothes and other things. I’ll pack Lani a bag too,” Violet says and Quinn hands her the keys to his car and his apartment. The guys had driven to the hospital with his car and ordered a ride home so Quinn still had his vehicle.

“You know where my stuff is. Lani’s things are all in the same places, just on the left. Same with the bathroom, all her stuff is in the left vanity,” Quinn says and Violet nods giving him a tight hug.

“We love you,” she says and Quinn squeezes her tight.

“Thanks for being here,” he responds

“Of course,”

They leave and when Blue comes back a few minutes later with 2 hands filled with multiple cups of coffee, Quinn feels his chest contract again. Lani loves coffee.

“We’re gonna go get everyone some food. We’ll be back but if you go see her before we return, tell Lani we love her yeah?” Jack says taking Blue’s hand in his own and Quinn nods as they make their way to the exit.

About thirty minutes later a nurse shows up and leads him to Lani’s room, and this is all Quinn’s been waiting for…a moment to lay his eyes on Lani and be sure that she’s okay. That he didn’t lose her. That they were gonna be okay.

But as he stood in the entrance of the room, he was unable to move, or speak, or breathe at the sight in front of him.

There she was. His Lani. Except she didn’t look like his Lani at all. Because his Lani was full of light, and so filled with joy she practically glowed with it. And now she was pale, battered, bruised and blue.

Quinn simply stands there for a moment observing her before he walks closer, taking the seat closest to her bedside and gently as ever, grabbing her hand and holding it against his cheek, pressing multiple kisses on her palm.

He fell asleep like that, clutching her hand tightly and resting his head against her.

A few hours later he awoke to the feeling of fingers gently running through his hair and his eyes instantly shot open.

He lifted his head to meet her gaze and he instantly teared up again.

“Lani,” he whispers, standing up and leaning over to kiss her on the temple

“We should call the nurse,” Quinn says hastily but Lani halts him with a hand on his arm.

“The nurse was already in here, just a few moments ago. She explained what happened and gave me some pain meds,” Lani says

“How long have you been awake?” Quinn asks

“For thirty minutes or so,”

“You should’ve woken me up,” Quinn says

“The nurse said you didn’t sleep at all last night, I wanted to let you rest a little longer,” Lani explains and Quinn sighs

“Come sit,” Lani says patting the spot next to her and Quinn immediately shakes his head

“No I don’t wanna hurt you,” he argues, choosing to sit at the bottom of the bed instead.

They talk for a little bit but half an hour later the troubled look on Quinn’s face still hasn’t disappeared.

“I’m okay Quinn,”

“You almost weren’t though,” he argues, his voice cracking

“But I am. And that’s all that matters. I'm here. I'm okay.” she says softly and Quinn just stares at her for a few minutes

“I should probably go give my parents an update,” Quinn says but doesn’t move.

“Your parents are here?” Lani asks surprised

“yeah, came as soon as they heard what happened. So did my brothers and Vi and Blue,” Quinn says

“oh. they didn’t need to fly all the way out here for me,”

“you almost died lani,” quinn says incredulously. finding it ridiculous that she’s even having the thought that her almost dying is an inconvenience to others.

“They can visit tomorrow if you’re up for it,” Quinn determines, seeing how tired she looks. She didn’t have to see them today. Or tomorrow. Or at all if she didn’t want to.

Him and Lani spend the next hour or so just talking, reassuring one another that she was okay and everything was gonna be fine. And then Quinn remembered that there was still something he needed to tell her. He really didn’t want to, not wanting to hurt her even more than she was already hurt.

“Lani. I need to tell you something,” Quinn starts but hesitates

“What is it?” she asks concerned, taking both his hands in hers.

“Before the accident, you were- you were pregnant. But the baby didn’t make it,” Quinn says softly and it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart when she gasps and tears up, retracting her hands and putting them on her stomach.

“No,” she whispers, and Quinn wipes her tears, nodding sadly.

“No,” she repeats again, her body shaking with her sobs and Quinn just wraps his arms around her, holding her tight.

Her sobs eventually die down, but the tears never stop, all ending up on Quinn’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry Quinn,” she apologises softly, pressing a kiss to his neck, knowing he must be hurting too.

“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. None of this is your fault, you hear me?” he asks and she nods against his shoulder.

Rationally Lani knew it wasn’t the right time to have a baby. Her and Quinn are only dating for about a year now, she was still in school, he was only now really settling in with the responsibility of being captain. But she also can’t help but be sad at the possibility of what could have been. Of what they could have had.

“We’re gonna be okay angel. The only thing that matters right now is that you’re okay. We’ll get through the rest together okay?” he asks and she nods, tears still falling as he cups her face and presses kisses all over. Kissing every tear away.

“I love you so much. More than I can even try to explain,” Quinn says, kissing her gently, and that just makes the tears fall even more.

“I love you the most,” she replies, snuggling into him more as he holds her. They would spend the rest of the day like that. And the next few days. And a lot of days after that. But they were gonna be okay, as long as they had each other.

#❥ — ꒰ lani + quinn ꒱

246 notes · View notes

stevenose · 3 months

Text

idk. gang idk. wanna eat this guy’s ass nahimsayin

contains: gender unspecified reader/no gendered language; free use reader; conflicted steve; mentions of steve trauma :( he head hurt; foot massage MILD MILD I PROMISE; oral (steve receiving); rimming (steve receiving); some humiliation going on; ‘whore’ is used both ways hashtag equality; facial (reader receiving)

Steve’s had the worst day of his life. Well, that’s not true - not even close. He has to remind himself of that, as if he forgot, even though the headache currently clouding his brain is a consequence of too many concussions. Actually, thinking about his bad luck just pisses him off more. He almost breaks the key to Family Video while he’s closing up, ripping it from the door so harsh it hurts his hand.

He slams the car door, too. Which makes his head pound. He’s so goddamn tired. And if he has to tell one more teenager they can’t rent porn, he’s going to drive his car into the building. He gets it - really, he does. He used to steal VHS tapes from his friend’s parents and watch it in his basement when he was underage. But now he’s 21 and too old for this shit.

Speaking of porn - blowing off steam sounds great. He sighs as he turns the engine of his car over and leans back. He just has to get home. And maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll be there and you can do that thing you both talked about.

It’s really out of character for him. He’s ready to admit it. Actually, he’s not just admitting it. He proclaims it, over and over - I’m not that kind of guy. But you showed him some real interesting porn and told him about the term “free use” and now he can’t stop fisting his cock to the idea of you choking on it. It’s sore, already straining in his jeans as he traverses Hawkins pothole-riddled roads.

Free use. He can imagine coming home and fucking you over a table, or pushing you to your knees, sure - but actually doing it is entirely different. He doesn’t know how to be mean. He didn’t even know how to be mean when he was an asshole. It makes him nervous, palms clammy against his steering wheel. He does know how to be confident, however, and he tries to lean into that assertiveness as he parks his car and strides towards the door.

Steve’s irritated he even has to unlock it, but you’re right there, sitting at the kitchen island reading the back of a cereal box. Pajamas on, ready for bed. It makes him feel bad about asking and he pushes any thought of getting his dick near you out of his sore brain. But you perk up when you see him, equally eager and shy, tucking into yourself.

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi.” He stares at you. Stupid.

“You okay?”

Steve takes a deep breath. “I had a bad day.”

You nod, drumming your fingers against your forearm. “Want me to do something about it?” you ask lowly.

Steve nods slowly. He’s still standing halfway through the door like a doofus.

“Shut the door, handsome.”

He blinks, zoning back in to reality. The door swings shut behind him and you make your way over to him, approaching cautiously. Like he’s infected with something. Perhaps just a sour mood.

“Anything you want,” you remind quietly.

He nods again, licks his lips. “Come here,” he says, walking towards the living room. Then he stops and looks back at you. “Please?”

Steve’s so grateful that you’re patient with him. You don’t poke fun or chastise him. You just nod, letting him lead the way as he settles on the couch. He’s also grateful that you take the lead at first, settling on your knees in front of him. Your little fingers move towards his Nikes and you unlace them, pulling his shoes off. He groans low when your hands move to massage his socked foot.

He can’t believe how gross you are. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be into shit like this. Neither should he. He reminds himself he really isn’t into this kind of thing, he’s just into you. But he’s painfully hard in his Levis while he watches you below him.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Steve shakes his head quickly. “No. But you’re sweet.”

You smile. “I know. How’s your head?”

He sighs. “Sore.”

“I’ll get you some advil in a sec,” you promise, moving from one foot to the other.

“Thank you,” he says, sinking into the couch. “You’re so good to me.”

“Yeah?” you goad. Your hands crawl up his thighs and you stare up at him eagerly. “I’d do anything you ask. Anything.”

Steve sucks in a measured breath, lost in your warm eyes for a moment. He leans forward and takes your jaw gently, but firmly, between his fingers. He can’t believe how much your eyes light up. “You can get me some medicine and suck my cock til I’m feeling better.” And then, again, he adds, “Please.”

You hop up, heading towards the kitchen while he stands to strip. It almost takes effort to get his jeans down past his erection, and his cock leaks precum on his stomach once it’s freed. He rolls his eyes at himself, so worked up over nothing yet. He sits back on the couch as you re-enter, bottle and water in hand.

“Come here,” he says again, patting his thigh, and you do as you’re told. You really are so good for him, so eager to please. He takes the items from you, downs 800 milligrams, then turns his attention back to you. Steve wracks his brain for something to say, but your fingers reach out for his scalp. You massage his head and he moans, his hands finding your hips while his eyes drift shut.

“Did you think about me today?”

“I did,” you answer. “Nearly every second.”

His eyes open, half-lidded. “Tell me what you thought about.”

You bite your lip for a moment. “I thought about your, um - well….”

He surprises himself when he swats your ass. He soothes it immediately, about to apologize, but your reaction gives him pause. Your hips grind on his thigh and your pupils go blown, teeth digging in to your plush bottom lip. Your fingers keep working his scalp, soothing the ache, helping him come back to life a little bit.

“Can I just show you instead?”

Steve hums. “Only if you show me how you touched yourself while you do it.”

He hears your breath hitch in your throat. You nod, then cup his cheeks. “Are you okay?”

The tenderness makes him melt. You make him feel like he’ll be alright. Like he doesn’t have a dead end job, like everyone isn’t moving on without him. “I’m great,” he answers, finally smiling. “Got a pretty thing like you on my lap, getting waited on, taken care of….”

“I’ll take care of you,” you coo, sliding off of his lap and back onto your knees before him.

The two of you haven’t fooled around very much. Steve loves watching your reaction to his cock - it gives him the biggest ego boost. He knows it’s pretty. Long and thick, pretty pink tip, a few beauty marks marking the shaft. It curves a little bit upwards, easy to find your sweet spot. He watches you stare at it now, eyes wide, breath fanning over it.

“Please hurry,” he has to say, a little bit impatient.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. Your hand reaches out for his shaft and you slowly pump your hand up and down it. Steve sighs and lets his head rest against the back of the couch. “It’s just so beautiful, Steve.”

Your touch spurs him on. “Beautiful, huh? You like it that much?”

“Mhm.” You lick your lips. “It’s so big, and - and soft….”

You press gentle kisses along the underside of it. Steve curses under his breath. His head falls forward so he can watch you now as you kiss every inch of it. You nuzzle your nose against the shaft, thumb swiping across the head, your tongue giving him kitten licks.

“There you go,” he groans. “Show me how much you love it.”

Your kisses become open mouthed and messy, your tongue getting him a little bit more wet. You kiss up towards the head and swirl your tongue around it, lapping up the precum pooling in his slit. Steve groans again, gripping your hair, and with a gruff “open up,” he slides his cock between your lips.

Your mouth is his salvation. Wet, warm, tight. Steve gasps and moans, hips immediately bucking upwards. You gag and he shudders, hand fisting your hair harder, tangling his thick fingers in it. “It’s okay, g-gag on it, make a - make a mess.”

You moan and angle your head to take a bit more of him, beckoning him to take what he needs. Your eyes are so pretty looking up at him, glassy, teary. It makes Steve frenzied. He bucks his hips into your mouth, reveling in the perverted noises you both make together.

“This what you wanted?” he growls. “Be my personal s-stress - stress toy?”

You moan and nod.

“Touch yourself.”

Your hand makes its way inside your pajama bottoms. You gag as you attempt to moan, throat constricting around Steve’s thick cock. He knows it has to hurt and he scratches your scalp in an attempt to soothe you. His balls tighten as your eyes roll back. He can see your fingers moving in the thin cotton of your sleep shorts and his stomach flips violently.

Steve fucks his hips against your face for a while, sensitive balls slapping against your chin. It’s so goddamn gross and he can’t fucking stop. His toes curl, breaths ragged and shallow, groans and praises falling from his lips. He pushes his cock into your throat as far as it can go, feeling it tense and constrict.

“Take it,” he grits. “Holy fucking shit goddamn you feel so good holy fuck oh my god -“

And when he finally pulls out, giving you a moment to breathe, you don’t pull back. Instead, you duck downwards, kissing and sucking gently at his balls.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, half in pleasure and half in scandal. “Feel - feel how much cum I’ve got for you?”

“Steve,” you moan. Music to his fucking ears.

“Love any part of me you can get, huh?” His blunt fingernails scratch your scalp some more, soothing.

And then you go lower.

Steve sort of short circuits. Now your tongue is on his taint and that is quite honestly not where a tongue should go. He wonders if you even know that’s where you are, and he tries pulling you upwards again. Voice hoarse while he’s saying, “Baby, that’s - oh, that’s - not -“

Your hands find his hips. You pull him towards the edge. And your tongue is really, really where it isn’t supposed to be now.

But Steve couldn’t stop you if he wanted to. It’s like he’s been electrocuted. Your tongue flicks against his hole, innocent, sweet. You even press a cute little kiss to his rim.

“Oh my god!” he wails, throwing his head back. He spreads his legs wider for you. His voice is gorgeous, all scandal, a deep tenor. “You dirty little whore.”

His own reaction shocks himself again, but you moan at that. He can even see your arm moving while you continue to touch yourself. All while your tongue licks broad stripes against his sensitive rim - and who knew he was so sensitive there? His stomach flips and tightens, cock pouring.

“Stroke me off,” he commands, though it’s more of a plea. Your hand finds his cock again and you pump him, tapering your tongue against his hole. Then you lick back to his balls, kissing each of them, before taking his cock in your throat again.

“What the fuck,” he groans, his entire stream of consciousness finding its way past his lips. “This what you got off t-to? Eating me ou- out?”

You pull back, a glint in your eye while you moan. “You’re about to get off to it, too.”

Which Steve can’t argue with. His balls are starting to draw up again and he doesn’t know how he’d like to cum. Down your throat? Or in your hair while you kiss his ass? He wishes he could have both.

His hand grips your hair again and he fucks your face with abandon. You moan non-stop around his length, gagging, drool finding its way down his cock to his balls and beyond. He plants his feet to fuck you like he knows you want, groaning through gritted teeth.

“You gonna cum? Gonna cum from being used?” he grits. “Go on, g-get off, you dirty - little -“

You go a little slack when you do. Eyes all crossed, drool falling down your chin. Steve can’t fucking stand it. He pulls you off of him and jerks himself off in front of you, his face red with effort while you gasp for air.

“Give me your filthy tongue,” he orders.

You stick your tongue out, a blissful, gorgeous expression on your face that Steve is quickly addicted to.

“Gonna cum - gonna cum a-all over your slutty face, just like you wanted - fuck!”

His eyes want to close but he forces them open to watch thick ropes defile your face. His chest heaves with exertion, low groans rumbling from his chest, head still pounding from how much effort it takes. But the headache’s the last thing on his mind. He’s all focused on you, looking like a porn star in front of him, all ditzy and happy.

“Up,” he pants, grabbing onto you. He pulls you onto his lap and he doesn’t care if you have his cum on your face. He’s already hardening again, could really use another scalp massage while his cock finds its way inside of your hole. “One more, can you do that for me? So goddamn hot I gotta go again.”

“Whore,” you snark weakly, hands finding his head, letting him sit you down on his cock.

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭#this isn’t very good but in my defense 1. sleepy baby 2. bad night

285 notes · View notes

angelfoxx · 1 year

Text

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° “COULD I…HELP YOU?”

… in which the genshin hybrids maybe, possibly let you help with their heats/ruts

FEATURING: gorou, tighnari, & yae miko.

WARNINGS: afab reader; do you consider eating yae out at the shrine sacrilege because if so then uh. um. scratches my neck awkwardly

NOTE/S: hey! i’m new and i eat requests UP. if u enjoy my work, pls leave a request and i’ll see if i can do it!

— GOROU

✧ He tries not to mention it to you. Key word; tries. More often than not he’s dealt with his…biological problems…during combat, and when you are leading an entire rebellion, getting off probably isn’t your top concern. Is it annoying? Yes. Does it make him irritable and short-tempered and want to commit violent crimes against the nation? Also yes. He goes absolutely apeshit insane during the worst of his cycle and chances are if you happen to be on the front lines with him you’ll see him lose his goddamn mind because while he may be a very high-ranking general he is also a bitch to the biological system and, archons, the frustration he has to otherwise ignore gets fueled into his job. he commits war crimes against the state

✧ That is, of course, until you. You are now a new factor in his life and considering that you’re not only fighting beside him but also more often than not sleeping over in his tent, bringing him food after he returns to camp, or doing who-knows-what-else, you’re bound to find out one way or another. His leading fear is that you’ll have a rather rude awakening to his issue after arriving at his tent a little too late and finding him trying to sleep, trying, because he doesn’t get much of that anymore between war and also hormones, but he’s afraid you’ll be a little too late and instead of him sleeping you’ll find him halfway curled over himself with his tortured dick slick in his hands and fierce red bleeding over his face as he tries to sate the carnal urge seething in his loins.

✧ He eventually tells you, sort of; he brings you in well before his cycle starts and tells you, as calmly as he can manage, that you should stay away from his tent because the coming week is going to be hard for him. You misunderstand, initially, and immediately start reassuring him that if the resistance is running low on supplies or rations or defenses you’ll go out no problem to provide assistance. This then leads to him having to explain that no, this isn’t anything to do with the resistance, it’s a…it’s a biological problem, and it makes me…frustrated, it frustrates me, and I don’t think I could live with myself if you got caught in the crossfire. He’s really trying not to stumble over his words — this is incredibly embarrassing, incredibly, like, tail-trying-to-tuck embarrassing — but he’s doing his best, and what more could you ask?

✧ You’re not stupid. Biological problems making him frustrated to the point of not being able to see you? He’s dancing around the whole core of the thing and so you half-laugh and look at him and his slumping ears and semi-tucked tail and rose-tinted cheeks and ask him, point blank, if he’s trying to explain rut. He seems almost scandalized by you putting it so simply, but with a whiny groan and guiltily-closing eyes he nods and affirms your suspicions. Now he’s trying to excuse himself; it’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine, I just…it would be best for you to stay away, stay away while I’m dealing with it, but you’re not having it. Obviously, he’s used to dealing with his primal side on his own, but now he has you; perhaps your clear-thinking, never-having-dealt-with-a-rut conscience is what makes you wait for him to finish rushing through his panicked monologue before you step forward, take his hand in yours, and ask if it would be a better idea for him to just…get it out of his system. You know, for the efforts of the resistance and all. It can’t be good to have General Top Dog Gorou not completely focused on the fight, right? So maybe he should just…you know, let you spend the night this coming week and just let his biological problem run its course. You know, for the resistance.

At this point, you aren’t sure whether the damp spot under your cheek is from spit or tears. You can’t exactly check either; it’s like your muscles aren’t listening to you anymore. They’re so rigid it hurts, so stiff you can’t move unless you want to lose what little composure you have left. You’re hot, so hot; despite being clothed in what are now torn-up, ragged shreds of fabric, you feel stifled, overheated; it’s not coming from your surroundings, but rather, your gut, from somewhere deep in your gut, the same place that’s making every muscle go stiff and your legs practically vibrate and your eyes roll back and oh, please, the same place that Gorou keeps hitting, blunt tip spearing up against and hammering into overdrive.

The thought swirls hazily in your head for half a second before you feel hard, slick length pull out of you, bump heavily against the back of your thigh before you hear a shuffle and then a hot tongue is prodding at your sobbing hole, carving searing lines through the thick glaze of spit, pre, and arousal coating the hot space between your legs and flooding over to the insides of your thighs. It’s been like this for so long, so long — you’ve lost track of time. You force a rolled-back eye to come forward; you gaze blearily at the ceiling of the tent, try to find the glow of the moon but it’s no use, not when everything is blurred together with tears and the world feels like it’s spinning and—

Gorou whines between your legs, laps up the arousal your cunt is all but drooling out by this point. His face is glued to you; a broken, absent consideration for whatever little things he’s got in here crosses through your mind as you hear the telltale whisk of fur on tent.

You’re leaning your hips back, ready this time when he mounts back up behind you. Both hands grope around your hips, claw at the seams of your thighs and finally find purchase quite literally on the hill of your pelvis. His chest lays up on your back; he’s burning up, skin on fire as his canines latch onto your ear and his breath threatens to burn your cheek. He doesn’t speak; he can’t, you don’t think, vocabulary reduced to a handful of pants, moans, and breathy half-words, slurred “m’gon, m’gonna, hol’n” as his stiff cockhead prods through your slit and nudges back into the sopping warmth of your cunt. Something clatters to the floor; if the rhythmic, quickening thump of his tail furiously hitting the floor in tandem with his pistoning hips, he’s close, again. How many times had he already? Four? Five, maybe? He’s still going at it as hard as he had in the start; the only indicator that his stamina is lessening is how sloppy he’s getting with his motions. He’s constantly groping around for a hold on your slick skin despite having found one immediately when this all first started; his breathing has steadily grown more labored, and you can feel saliva soaking down your neck as his teeth find purchase beside your nape and he bites down, some last effort to anchor himself as his hips twitch and a fresh rope of heat spills out against that spot deep in your gut.

— TIGHNARI

✧ Much unlike the aforementioned general, his methods of dealing with his rut are…indulgent. He knows better than anyone what the rut is and why it does what it does and how to best work with it. The other researches know this; they know that sometimes, for no apparent reason at all, he writes up a whole patrol schedule for the next several days and sends himself out on the further ones; he’ll disappear for days at a time, often excusing himself with reasoning along the lines of studying the forest over a period of days to ensure that the Withering isn’t rearing its head, or that he wants to record the state of certain formerly-affected plants over a longer section of time. Both are rather normal reasons to be excused for so long; plus, Collei’s got home base under control, and his absences aren’t necessarily unusual. So, it works.

✧ If you pry enough — but wait, Tighnari, we might need you, we’ve got this thing we’re doing…how long will you be gone for? — he’ll explain it to you, and he’ll do so rather eloquently which is wild considering that he’s really just talking about how he gets ridiculously, unbearably horny for a week or so at a time and fucks his hands several dozen times over. He explains it scientifically, simply, and comfortably; he’s casual about what he’s talking about and maybe that’s why you have to do a double take and, as he’s walking out to check on Collei and make sure she’s got things covered, you sort of sputter and turn around and ask if he’s going into rut. He just pauses, looks over his shoulder, and blinks — you feel kind of stupid when he just looks at you and dubiously goes “yes?” Somehow, despite him being the one who’s literally distancing himself so he can masturbate in peace, you feel awkward and exposed. In any case, he just walks away, very casually, to check in on Collei, leaving you to realize that oh, oh, that’s…oh.

✧ When you stop him the night before he leaves — he’s packing a satchel of whatever he needs, you’d guess — you’re the one who’s shifting on your feet and hot in the face as you ask if he needs any help. He just blinks at you, asks what you mean, and flicks an ear when you open your mouth to answer and stammer out something about helping to carry something to his temporary campsite. He says he appreciates the offer but he’s got it managed just fine; plus, he adds, you don’t want to be around someone under (what he calls) animalistic instinct. You don’t quite know how to say that uh, well, haha, funny you say that, because I kind of do, and so you just say you’re worried about him going off on his own. He laughs — he finds that quite endearing — and tells you he’ll be fine. He tells you to go get some sleep; if it’ll make you feel better, he’ll bring you some spoils from the jungle when he gets back, so you can look forward to his return for reasons other than the obvious.

✧ Which, of course, doesn’t work. He disappears the next morning, as expected, but thanks to literally scouting the whole fucking jungle a good bit of adventurer’s expertise you stumble across his camp. Camp, consisting of a hollowed-out tree stump and the starts of a nest constructed from underbrush and reeds. It doesn’t take long to find the fox himself; upon seeing you he’s quick to jump into scolding, to which you literally have to cut him off and say that no, no, you know why he’s here and you’ll leave but also you meant it if he wanted help, like you really meant it, and…

Hands balled into fists, crushing willowy reed-stems in your grasp; to say you’re being drilled into is an understatement. The world had smelled initially like the jungle — damp soil, wild flowers, sweet wood — but now it smells hot, rough, almost wild.

And it’s all because of him.

Breath coming in short, thick half-pant, half-grunts, Tighnari’s chasing refuge from the need exploding through his system; it’s evident in the tendons defined down his neck, the blueish veins starting to stick up under his skin, the sheen of sweat painting his skin a glossy golden-cream. His face tips back; quivering under him, you watch as he groans into the hot, enclosed air of his carved-out camp, watch as he swallows, hard, as if to calm himself down.

Fat chance of that, you manage to think, lifting your head just a little to try a glance at your hips. Your prostrate hips, flat against the jungle floor, legs split apart to leave room for the sharp-eyed hybrid overhead to thrust up into you.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering how hard his hips are rutting and how aggressive the slap of skin on skin has gotten. His voice is aimed down at you; he’s looking down, now, watching your expression change with sardonic eyes. Both tall ears sit almost-flat against his head; he finds you funny, right now, funny even though you’re the one he’s been so desperately fucking into. “Helping me move my stuff, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer and can’t. He knows damn well what you’d meant; he knew it then, too, when he said he’d be just fine on his own. A test to see how far you’d go, perhaps, and one that you’d succeeded. Going on a wild hunt through a jungle to go find him is certainly something, he thinks — and what kind of thanks would it be if he didn’t let you give this whole bitch thing a whirl?

Your breathing breaks as his pace grows quicker; he never falters, not even when you grab on around the small of his back snd dig your nails into the smooth planes of his back. “Gonna,” you gasp, almost voiceless; “gonna, gonna, ‘Nari, gonna…”

Black fur curls against your ankle and trails up your thigh. He finds it funny, how quick you are to break under him; but oh, silly you. Silly, silly you. One round…that won’t do. But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you came out here; to ruin yourself, or to let him ruin you. Isn’t it?

— YAE MIKO

WOMEN. WOMEN RRRRRRAUGH THIS IS MOMMY

✧ If you think anyone is gonna know shit when this woman deals with a heat cycle then you’re wrong. Wrong. Yes, it is very frustrating and yes, she’s well aware of that feeling being there and yes, archons, she’s very poignantly aware that you, her little admirer — she’s poignantly aware that whenever you’re around she finds that feeling getting a little stronger and a little harder to ignore because maybe, maybe she’s a little…a little interested in you, and maybe those comments that sound flirty but you’ve always just chalked up to her being her mean a little more than she lets on, but…no, no. She won’t tell you that. It would be embarrassing and also weird; even Ei doesn’t know about it, and Ei knows most things. She knows her rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar has taken a liking to you, and she’s mentioned it in brief teasing every now and again — in Ei’s mind, she should really just tell you because human life is short and eternity is damn long — but what she doesn’t know is that hr same rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar finds somewhere, anywhere — hell, half the time it’s at the shrine where she won’t be bothered — and fucks herself with her hand and pretends it’s you, pretends, and she feels more than slightly foul afterward because she’s doing it at a sacred shrine but archons, screw it, she needs to take care of this or she’ll provoke Ei into another bad decision with her attitude.

✧ Speaking of which; it’s after another casual wander through Inazuma with Ei that you head up to visit her foxy familiar. Much unlike the many times you’ve seen her here before, she’s not in front of that sacred tree; no, she’s staring off into the fenced-off pond, and she looks very far away, like her head’s not all here. Upon calling for her, she seems to come back; she finds your eyes, offers you a charming little smile, and shuffles over as if to make room for you despite her current spot already being separated from the main crowd. Internally, she’s cursing herself for how her heart beats a little harder against her ribs and how the warmth between her legs starts to spread up into her gut, twists around her rationale and puts her world in a haze. Being in the depths of a heat cycle, specifically around you, has her almost scattered; she hears all of your questions well after you ask them and she answers even more delayed than that and so maybe that’s why you’re suddenly so close, trying to get closer to her face with your expression wrought and eyes worried as you ask if she’s feeling alright.

✧ She should push you away. She should, really, because you’re so warm, and you smell so nice and sweet and you look so pretty and untouched and — no, no, she should push you away, but she can’t. She’ll hide it under some smooth, late remark — I’m feeling fine; is this just an excuse to get closer to me? — but the little voice in her head is screaming at her to grab you by the nape and drag you off to a quiet, hidden corner and wreck you because you’re hers, hers, her sweet thing, hers…

✧ You don’t look alright. Have you been sleeping enough? Oh, ever-so-innocent, ever-so-sweet you, concerned suddenly that maybe the thin mountain air has gotten her sick as you press your palm to her forehead to see and — you’re burning up, you’re actually burning up, we need…do you have medicine? I’m not sure if familiars carry medicine, but we can head down to the village…no, no, I’ll head down, you stay here and I’ll bring something back for you, or…

✧ She finally manages a no. No, she doesn’t need medicine; trying to manage to keep her voice from dropping, she gives you the simple explanation of this happens sometimes and medicine won’t do anything about it, and you’re kind of confused because does she mean her period? do fox familiars get periods? when fox familiars get periods do they suddenly burn up like they’ve got a bad fever? but then you realize fox and oh, oh, you think you get it now. It must be evident on your face; oh, you say, face going hot, oh, sorry, I…do you need anything? I can leave you alone — sorry, I didn’t know, this is probably a bad time… but she’s just looking at you, now, and you don’t quite know what to do before you feel hot fingers wrap around your wrist and nails poke your skin. She’s trying to keep up the act; are you asking to help? she manages, suave tone just slightly shaky, and you’re sort of left sitting there dealing with the moral question of whether or not fucking the Electro Archon’s familiar is something you’ll get tit-sword’d for but ultimately, looking at slightly-heaving Miko with her eyes almost glowing and her skin starting to burn yours and oh, is that a blush you’re seeing? you decide that maybe getting tit-sword’d is worth it.

For being such a smooth talker, Yae Miko is awfully messy when it comes to sex. At least, this kind of sex. The sex where she’s dragged you rather hurriedly and rather unceremoniously behind one of the buildings atop the shrine, practically shoved you up against the wooden wall and swallowed any complaints or remarks you may have had about the manner between her lips. Dominant, yes — but messy. Messy, in the way her mouth can’t seem to stay on yours and instead slips off, wets the corners of your mouth and down under your jaw when you try and fail to gasp for breath. Messy, in the way that her hands are immediately moving; one raking down your spine, the other digging into your nape, and then both to your sides, and then one up under your blouse to tear apart the buttons and get a handful of your chest. Messy, in the way that despite her heat being at its worst, especially being neglected for so long, she insists on marking you; you don’t know if the Shogun’s eyes see the shrine but oh, oh, you hope they don’t, because you’re pinned to a wall with her familiar licking and biting and sucking on the soft spots under your jaw so hard that you’re heaving and debating on whether or not it’s okay to wrap your arms behind her head and draw her deeper into you because it feels like fire, it feels like fire on your throat…

“On your knees,” she purrs shakily, breath hot on your neck. “On your knees, get on your knees…you said you’d help me, didn’t you? Be good…listen to me, listen…”

And so, you do. And, really, you shouldn’t be surprised but oh, the way she watches you drop weakly to your knees, land softly in the grass with the wooden wall burning up your back — it’s too much, it’s too much, and your eyes have gone drunken before she can even start to move her clothes, move the pretty white silk out of the way and she’s lowering herself, too, but she really doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to, because you’re drunk on desire and maybe that’s what gives you the confidence to touch her, wrap a shaky hand around her thigh and stretch up, duck under her dress guys im so sorry it might be a kimono but i actually do not know and i dont want to use the wrong terminology and sound dumb please help and…oh, she smells so sweet, so warm and sweet and—

She swears she sees stars. The long, pitched-tailed moan she lets out is evidence of it; nails scrape along your nape as you tongue at the heat burning fiercely between her thighs, taste thick, sugared arousal on your tongue and groan as you lap for more. She gives you no instructions, no limits, and so you just go all in; you wrap an arm around her waist to steady yourself as you let go of her thigh, reach up with your now-free hand and spread slick, soaked folds apart to get on the source. Her breathing is labored; you can feel her pulse stuttering when the tip of your tongue finds her pulsing cunt, pushes in only to get tightened on. Something warm and soft brushes the hand behind her back; you’ve seen the ghost of her tail a few times but it sure as fuck feels real now, beating against her thigh as you latch onto the sweet well between her thighs and practically drink the effect of her heat as it dribbles down your chin. Heaven, you’re in heaven, and oh, archons, so is she; the wooden wall behind you groans as she shifts, assumably to rest her weight against it as her thighs steady against your head and close you off to the outside world.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #yae miko #gorou #tighnari

2K notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 11 months

Note

Here me out- a San/wooyoung threesome

making a deal with the devil choi san

details: bf!san x fem reader x bff!wooyoung

warnings: smut (18+;mdni), threesome, fingering, cliff hanger

word count: 1.8k

“tell my girlfriend she looks pretty, woo.”

wooyoung coughs abruptly like he wasn’t expecting to be addressed and stutters out an unconvincing “you… look pretty,” making both you and your boyfriend shoot him an unimpressed look.

“say it like you mean it,” san prompts again.

“you look really, really pretty,” wooyoung says automatically. you don’t have any trouble believing him this time.

“baby, what do you say?”

you duck your head bashfully. “thank you, woo.”

wooyoung grins at you shyly.

“get on the bed with her,” san orders him. wooyoung scrambles to obey.

he perches himself next to you, careful not to let any part of his body brush against yours. he won’t touch you until san gives him the green light, even though you can tell he so desperately wants to.

neither of you are quite sure what’s going through san’s mind right now as he stares the two of you down… he’s never been keen on sharing you in any manner— you’ve caught him glaring at the other guys when they make you laugh too hard for christ’s sake, so why is he letting his best friend fuck you?

you had both thought he was joking when he mentioned it, laughing at the mere thought of a threesome.

“i’m serious,” san insisted, making you both pause. “i know you want to. unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“san, what is this about?” you’d asked. he ignored you.

he stared straight past you at his best friend. “overheard your conversation with yunho.”

you turned your attention to wooyoung and watched the color drain from his face.

“i can explain-”

“i don’t really see how someone could misunderstand someone saying ‘yeah, man, i’d give anything to fuck her— if her boyfriend wasn’t my best friend and also someone i’m convinced could get away with murder.’”

wooyoung pursed his lips. “okay, well when you put it like that…”

“you put it like that when you said it to yunho in the middle of our kitchen!”

wooyoung whipped his head over to you as if he’d only just remembered you were also there. “i’m really sorry, y/n. you must feel so… grossed out. and objectified. and… god, i’m so fucking sorry.”

“she likes it,” san said, shrugging.

you gasped, affronted. “san!”

“only telling the truth, baby. bet you’re already making a mess in your panties over there.”

you didn’t grant him the satisfaction of confirming nor denying (lying) his claim. instead, you simply rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest like you were frustrated with him over something silly, something like groceries or laundry, not him telling his best friend what turns you on.

“so… what are you saying?“ wooyoung asked nervously.

“that if she wants to, you can have sex with my girlfriend. in front of me.”

“are you fucking with me? is this how you’re getting back at me for what i said?”

san shook his head. “i’m serious. but it’s up to her.”

now wooyoung is on san’s bed with you, awaiting further instruction. you’re practically vibrating with anticipation. no amount of deep breathing or counting to ten can calm your nerves.

san had known about your kink for a while now. you never expected him to indulge it aside from maybe a dirty comment here and there in bed. and you certainly didn’t expect for him to fully play into your fantasy and make into a reality.

“kiss her.”

wooyoung nods, acknowledging that he heard san, but doesn’t move. you help him out by leaning in his direction, hoping he’ll meet you halfway. with another nod of approval from san, he does, pressing his lips to yours so chastely you want to laugh.

it’s over before you can even register that it’s happening. wooyoung pulls away almost immediately.

“we really don’t have to do this, woo,” you assure him, hand finding his own and squeezing comfortingly.

“no, i want to,” he’s quick to insist. “trust me, i want to. i’m just so fucking nervous.”

“i guess i’ll just have to show you how it’s done,” san says with a sigh.

your boyfriend joins you on the bed, pushing wooyoung aside so that he can have you all to himself for a moment.

he slots his lips with yours, instantly pushing his tongue into your mouth. you moan, body going slack.

san catches you and lays you back on the mattress. he gets you to wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to make out with you, grinding against you through his pants.

wooyoung watches through lust-clouded glasses. that could’ve been him right now if he hadn’t been a coward. would san even let him touch you at this point? was the deal off now?

“help her get her pants off,” san tells wooyoung when he finally breaks away for air.

this time, he jumps into action. he scoots himself closer to the two of you on the mattress and slides his hands in between your body and san’s, searching blindly for the button of your jeans.

he finds it eventually and tries not to think about how he’s also brushing against his best friend’s dick as he fumbles to undo it. with that done, it’s easy to do the rest. you help him by arching your back and pushing your hips off the bed so that he can get them off without any trouble.

“nice job,” san praises him, rolling off of you. “now, kiss her.”

he props himself up on his elbow, not quite sure how to just lay himself on top of you like san had, but you don’t seem to mind. you turn onto your side to face him properly, smiling reassuringly. wooyoung feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. you always seemed to meet him where he was at, no matter where that might be.

he kisses you with a bit more confidence this time, copying the way san had slipped his tongue into your mouth. you moan, eagerly welcoming the change of pace.

his hand cups your cheek automatically, and he finds himself leaning into you, more and more until he’s hovering over you.

“touch her,” san says from his corner, making wooyoung jump.

he’d already forgotten his friend was there.

“where…” wooyoung trails off.

“anywhere,” you gasp.

“over her panties,” san directs, giving wooyoung a much more specific instruction.

wooyoung parts your legs with his hands and traces the shape of you over your underwear, shuddering when he feels your arousal coat his fingers. earlier, after he’d taken your pants off, he had been able to see just how wet you were. you’d gotten even wetter since kissing him and now you were making a mess of the bed too.

“take them off for him, baby,” san tells you after a few minutes. it’s the first time he’s spoken directly to you in a while.

you smile at your boyfriend and slide them down your legs, holding them out for san to take. he does, and then tucks the article into wooyoung’s jacket pocket.

“a keepsake,” is all he offers as an explanation.

wooyoung feels the back of his neck heat in embarrassment and he hopes you and san can’t tell how red it’s just gotten as a result of your soaked panties being placed into his pocket. his cock twitches in his pants at the idea of what he could do the… gift later.

he’s not sure what he has permission to do at this point but he figures fingers must be fine so he goes back to what he was doing, now without the barrier of your underwear in the way.

you spread your legs even wider for him and moan softly, watching as he pushes his middle and his ring fingers inside of you.

“fuck,” wooyoung groans.

“she feels perfect, right?”

“so fucking perfect.”

“add a third finger,” san advises. “she’ll lose her mind.”

“yeah?”

“she might even squirt for you if you can hit it right.”

“for real?”

san nods. “it might happen even if you don’t hit it right, just because she’s so excited. right, baby?”

“san,” you whine.

“sorry, baby. i won’t spill any more of your dirty little secrets.” (lie) “wooyoung will figure them out on his own soon enough.”

wooyoung’s determined to get you to cum on his fingers— he doesn’t even need you to squirt (although he’d like it very much), he just wants to prove to himself that he can make you fall apart. he’s dreamed about it for so long already.

the dream comes true for him soon enough. it doesn’t take long at all for you to start chanting wooyoung’s name, begging him not to stop as you release all over his hand.

he’s still got his fingers inside of you when you sit up and start clawing at his sweats.

“i need you to fuck me now. please, god, get inside of me.”

wooyoung chuckles, can hear san laughing more distantly too, but is quick to give in to your pleas.

he realizes he’s actually still fully dressed. san is too. meanwhile you’re completely naked from the waist down. tits covered, pussy out. they might have skipped a few steps. oops.

wooyoung shucks off his windbreaker, then his t-shirt. he pulls his pants and briefs down in one go.

while he’s undressing, you seem to realize you also still have your shirt on so you yank it off and toss it in the direction of wooyoung’s pile of clothes. san re-enters the scene to help you take your bra off and then he’s stepping back into the shadows again.

wooyoung’s so hard at this point he almost forgets to feel self-conscious. almost. it’s difficult not to feel self-conscious when you’re completely naked in front of the girl you have a crush on and your best friend.

you seem to like what you see at least, judging by the way your eyes get wide when your gaze reaches his dick, and that’s enough for him.

you beckon him forward and he rejoins you back on the bed, now full of nervous jitters. but he doesn’t have time to overthink it because you’re pulling him back on top of you. wooyoung cradles your thigh against his hip as he kisses you, nudging your clit with the head of his cock. you’re still sensitive from cumming the first time but you don’t shy away from the extra stimulation.

“i’m gonna fucking cum the minute you’re inside of me,” you moan.

me too, wooyoung thinks to himself. then, “san, what about a condom?”

“oh, you won’t be needing one of those,” his best friend answers casually.

“what?” you and wooyoung ask in unison, both sounding shocked.

“you won’t be cumming inside of her,” san continues. “not her mouth, nor her cunt.”

“but what am i supposed to-”

“you can cum on her,” he explains. “wherever she’ll allow you to, but cumming inside is for me… and if you think you won’t be able to control yourself, well, then i guess you’re out of luck.”

#answered #anon #ateez smut #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut

507 notes · View notes

wh0re43van · 5 months

Text

Frogger Pt 2 (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Summary: You return to peters house to finish what you started, but he’s way ahead of you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Very smutty, Masturbation, sub!peter (no mommy kink tho bc Idr fuck with that), edging, whiny Peter, pantie stealing

A/n: I can’t get this divider to work right and I’ve also just realized that Frogger came out on Atari in ‘83 not ‘73,,, so just ignore that huge plot hole pls 🙏🏻 Speaking of which, I’d like to take this moment to say: Frogger? I hardly know her!

Okay thats it. Thank you for reading!!

Pt 1

After picking my little brother up from school, I pull into our driveway.

“Alright come on, Finn. you’re gonna learn how to heat up a TV dinner today,” I say as I open the passenger door for my brother, ushering him quickly towards our front door.

“Why?” he asks, confused as we enter our home.

“Cause I got shit to do. You’ve got five minutes to ask questions then I’m leaving,” I say as I walk into the bathroom right next to our kitchen to check my reflection. “So, you better start now,” I say as I reapply my lipstick.

“What? Does mom know?” he asks, sounding horrified.

“No and she won’t find out because I’ll be home before she gets back from her Tupperware party and you aren’t gonna say anything,” I say as I shake my finger in his face.

“Y/n, I’m only eight. What if someone breaks in?” he squeaks as he follows my quick steps to the freezer. I open the door, pulling out a random frozen meal.

“Then hide,” I say flatly, knowing that our neighborhood is safe. He looks at me, still horrified.

“Ugh,” I groan before grabbing a pen and writing the Maximoff phone number on our calendar that’s hanging on the fridge. “I’m going to Peters. This is their phone number. Call and ask for me if anything happens. I should be back in an hour or two,” I say before grabbing my keys off the counter and walking to the door. “Lock the doors, don’t answer for anyone unless it’s me, mom, or dad and stay inside the house,” I say as I unlatch the wooden door.

“Wait! You didn’t tell me about the dinner!” he stops me in my tracks.

“You can read right?” I ask, he nods his head. “Directions are on the box,” I lock the door behind me as I all but run towards my vehicle.

As I take the short drive to Peters house, my heart races in anticipation. I hate to admit it, but I managed to get just as worked up as he did- if not, more. My Fleetwood Mac cassette plays loudly in my stereo, but all I can hear is the whimpers that escaped Peter’s mouth earlier. He looked so fucking pathetic writhing underneath me, mewling through shaky breaths; It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. The image of peter standing half naked, desperate, and confused with his pants so tight around his erection that his button could pop off at any moment makes more core ache. I pull up to the Maximoff house, parking halfway on the curb, but I’m in too much of a hurry to fix it. I sprint up to the door, taking a deep breath to compose myself before knocking. Ms. Maximoff soon opens the door.

“Y/n, back so soon?” she grins, allowing me to enter.

“Yes ma'am, I have something that I need to finish,” I smile innocently. She nods.

“Peter should be downstairs, I haven’t seen him since you left,” she walks back to the kitchen, leaving me to make my way to Peter’s room. I quietly walk down the stairs, stepping onto the shag carpet. I freeze in my tracks, my breath hitching in my throat and my heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of me.

Peter sitting upright on his couch, completely naked, his head thrown back, resting on the back of the sofa as his hand pumps his rock hard dick. His eyes are squeezed shut as his mouth hangs agape, releasing the hottest whimpers I’ve ever heard. His cheeks and lips are flushed as his nose scrunches in pleasure… then I hear it.

“Fuck, y/n” he mewls, so quiet I could barely hear it, but the sound of him muttering my name as he strokes himself rings through my ears like a trumpet, making my knees weak.

‘Oh, this gonna be wicked!’ I smirk to myself.

“Yes?” I bite my lip, approaching the disheveled boy. Peter’s so stunned that he just jumps up. He doesn’t zoom away. He just stands there with the most horrified expression I’ve ever seen.

“I-I-I didn’t- I wasn’t- y/n,” he sputters, I walk up to him, gently pushing him back down to the couch.

“You weren’t what?” I sit next to him, placing a hand on his chest; He’s hot to the touch. “Rubbing one out while thinking about me?” I ask lowly.

“I well, y-y-you just left me,” he says, staring at me with wide eyes, his dick still standing at attention. “I tried not to, it just wouldn’t go away,” he explains as he pushes his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Hmm,” I tap a finger to my lips in mock consideration. “I think I know how to help you,” I say with a shrug. Peter smiles at me, settling into the couch, closing his eyes, waiting for me to touch him. I get down on my knees in between his legs. “But I need you to show me what you were doing first,” I look up at him, laying my head on his bare thigh. He looks down at me, confused.

“Y-you want me to…” he motions towards his erection.

“Mhm,” I hum, looking at him through my lashes. His cheeks burn bright red, but he slowly moves his hand to his length. I watch intently as he begins to stroke himself. His hand runs over his red, swollen tip and he lets out a quiet whimper. “I wanna hear you, Peter,” I hum.

Even though he’s embarrassed, I can tell that he’s enjoying this. His breath quickens and his dick twitches in his hand as I speak. He picks up speed, obeying my command, letting out a pathetic little moan, as he stares down at me. “I think I know what you’re doing wrong,” the sultry tone drips from my tongue as I sit up on my knees.

“What?” he asks, his voice small as he watches my every move. I take his length into my own hand, dipping my head down, gathering spit in my mouth that I allow to drip from my lips onto his swollen tip. His brown eyes, wide as saucers, watches the saliva trickles onto him.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers as I use my fingers to spread the lubrication around. I hear his breath hitch, then I pull my hand away.

“Now try it,” I smile. I can tell he’s getting sexually frustrated.

“Really?” He whines. “But I want-“ he whines some more before I stop him.

“Do it, Peter,” I say sternly. He gulps, returning his hand to his now slick cock. He moans, throwing his head back.

“Doesn’t that feel better, baby?” I coo. He looks down at me, nodding his head. I slowly shift from my knees to sit on my ass, keeping his desperate eyes locked into mine. I spread my legs, revealing my soaked white panties underneath my skirt. Peter whimpers loudly at the sight, thrusting his hips into his hand.

“C-come on y/n, what are you tryin’ to do to me?” He groans, breathlessly.

“I’m helping you, quickie,” I giggle lightly before I run my hand over my clothed core. Peter shifts on the couch, sitting up to get a better view. His hand picks up speed around his length. I hum at the contact on my core, laying my head back, allowing my hair to fall from my shoulders down my back. I tilt my head to the side, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth when I catch Peters gaze locked onto my dripping panties, not even blinking as he pumps his cock mercilessly. The muscles in his arm tense and his dick twitches, precum oozes out.

“Fuck I think I’m gonna-“ he whimpers breathlessly.

“Stop,” I demand. “Remove your hand, Peter,” I direct him as I continue rubbing circles on my clit through the thin cotton. With a reluctant whimper, he pulls away.

“Mmm,” I slide my panties slowly down my legs, he watches with intensity. I’ve never seen him focus on anything this long before. “Good boy,” I praise, tossing the panties beside him on the couch. He looks at them, then back at me. I giggle, pulling my sweater and my tank top over my head, leaving me in just my bra and skirt. When I return my gaze to the couch, Peters eyes are still locked on me like before, but my panties are gone.

‘That pathetic little perverted kleptomaniac,’ I smile to myself. I don’t mention it-allowing him to keep the drenched panties as a prize for listening so well. Instead, I just bring my fingers down to my now exposed core. His eyes follow my hand like a cat’s follow a laser pointer. I use a finger to dip into my soaking entrance, dragging my slick up to my clit before I begin to rub circles on the sensitive skin.

“Mmm, fuck, Peter,” I relish the pleasure that I bring myself. He let’s out a string of mewls as he thrusts up into the air, desperate for some sort of friction.

“Are- Are you tryin’ to kill me?” He whispers, bringing his gaze from my slick folds up to my eyes. I can’t help but laugh at the desperate state of the poor boy.

“What do you mean?” I play Innocent as I move my fingers back to my entrance.

“I-“ He starts but he’s immediately distracted when I slip my finger inside myself, letting out a pornographic moan.

“Go on Peter,” I smirk. “I’m listening,” I bat my lashes.

“You’re just so-“ he speaks as if his mouth has gone dry.

“Fuck,” I let out another moan, purposely cutting him off again as I slip another finger inside myself and begin to curl up into that special spot.

“Please,” he whimpers, his voice cracks, his legs are shaking, his silver hair is stuck to his face with sweat and his dick is so hard that the tip has taken on a purple hue. Finally, I broke him. “Please, please, please, y/n please I’ll do anything,” he whines, pleading for mercy.

I smile, hoping up then turning around, slowly sliding my skirt down, bending over as I push the thin fabric to my feet.

“Please,” he whimpers again. I turn back around, smiling at the poor boy. “I’m not sure I’m enjoying this as much as you are,” he mewls as I straddle his waist. He winces when his erection slaps against my stomach.

“Oh, don’t lie to me Peter,” I whisper in his ear. I bring my fingers that I was using on myself up to his mouth, he happily opens, sucking them clean as he stares up at me with his big puppy eyes.

Jesus Christ I moan internally.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I bring my face right in front of his, grabbing either side of his cheeks with the same hand. “Don’t act up now,” I say sternly. He responds with an audible gulp. “Tell me Peter. Tell me how much you’re enjoying our time together right now,” I whisper as I ghost the fingers of my free hand over his needy cock. He twitches in my hand.

“I-you-“ he gulps again. His wide eyes looking directly into mine. “Y/n, this is hotter than any porno I’ve ever seen,” he admits whole heartedly, through muffled words as my hand squeezes his cheeks together a bit, earning a genuine laugh out of me.

“Well luckily for you,” I grab his length firmly, beginning to pump him slowly. “You won’t have to rent those stupid films anymore, not with me around,” I smirk before I bring him into a kiss, wrapping one hand in the back of his head. To my surprise, he kisses back intensely. His hands shoot up, grabbing both sides of my face to pull my head closer to his. He kisses me with strong desire.

“You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he groans into the kiss. I lift my hips up, not breaking the passionate kiss, using my hand to line him up with my dripping entrance.

“Of course, I do, Peter,” I whisper before setting down on his desperate cock, taking him all the way into me in one swift motion. He lets out a loud whimper- almost a shriek. “Shhh” I giggle against his lips, stifling my own moan.

“I’m sorry,” he whines. He peers into my eyes with his chest heaving, sweat covering every inch of his toned body while his shaky hands hold their death grip on my hips. I place my hands behind me onto his thighs so I can slowly slide myself up down on his length.

“It’s okay Peter, but you gotta keep it down a bit. Can you do that for me, baby?” I coo. He nods his head as he watches in awe as I fuck myself on him, unable to look away. He fills me up perfectly, his desperate cock sliding in out of my velvet walls earns a few low moans out of me. ”You’re so big, Peter,” I compliment, he smiles at me flashing his dimples. With a surge of confidence, he brings his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them to my clit, tracing figure eights, watching my face for approval. “Mmm, that feels good, baby. Good job,” I praise him. He moves his fingers faster, and faster, and faster to the point that his hand is just a blur. ”Fuck!” I accidentally shout from the vibrations coursing through my body.

“Shhh,” he smirks. “You gotta keep it down, remember?” he mocks me. I can’t help but laugh, his sudden confidence is a bigger turn on than I thought it would be. He moves his hand from my core- much to my disappointment- before he grabs my hips again.

“May I?” he asks politely, his voice small again as he thrusts into me, wanting to take a bit of control. I lean forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Mhm,” I grant him permission. “Only since you’ve listened so well,” I smirk. As soon as I give him the okay, he’s pounding into me mercilessly.

“Peter!” I shout in surprise and pleasure as he thrusts into me at inhuman rates. The speedster doesn’t seem to hear me as he throws his head back in pleasure.

“Thank you,” he whimpers. “You feel so fucking good, oh my god,” he whines, still somehow sounding submissive even when I’ve given him control. I quickly feel my release nearing as I grip onto his shoulders to keep him from bucking me off. I’ve never been so worked up in my life, my body feels like it’s on fire as I watch the handsome boys hips blur underneath me.

“Peter, I’m close,” I moan, my words come out punctuated as if I’m in a vehicle that’s driving 100mph down a pothole filled gravel road. His head shoots up at my words.

“Please y/n,” he whimpers as I bring my lips to his. “Please I wanna feel you cum while I’m inside you, please,” he whines and begs like a starving puppy, sending me over the edge. Pleasure shoots from my vibrating core throughout my whole body as a string of moans and curses fall from my lips. “Thank you,” I hear him mewl as I chase the euphoria I’m feeling.

‘Did he just thank me, for cumming on him?’ I think to myself. This man knows exactly how to get me worked up, and I don’t even think he realizes it. Suddenly, with a fwp I’ve lost all contact with him as I’m sat beside him on the couch. His eyes hungrily explore my body while he continues to pump himself as whimpers and groans fall from his lips, his dick is visibly twitching.

‘oh’ my confusion subsides once I realized he was about to cum himself. I regain my position on my knees between his legs, watching his face as I take him into my mouth. I consider ruining his orgasm again, but before I can make up my mind, his eyes are scrunched shut and his nose is wrinkled in pleasure as the hottest, most pathetic whimper I’ve ever heard fall from his swollen lips like music to my ears.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he groans as he empties his seed onto my tongue. I swallow the huge load, kitten licking his slit and hollowing out my cheeks a few more times for good measure. He falls onto the couch, lifeless. His chest heaving, the muscles in his legs twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Peter?” I ask, slightly concerned. “Peter?” I ask again a but louder, slapping his leg as I stand from the ground, sitting next to him.

“I…” he slowly turns his head next to me. I can almost see his heart beating out of his chest. “I think you just changed me as a man,” he pants. I laugh at his revelation, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Well I’m honored to be the one to do it,” I smile. He slowly sits up, holding his head as if he’s dizzy.

“I’m fucking starving,” he sighs. I stand up, starting to get dressed.

“Well, clean up real quick and we can go get some food after I check on my brother,” I smile. His eyes light up at the mention of food. He stands, taking a step then stopping, looking at me confused. He takes another step, stopping.

“You broke me, I can’t even zoom across the room,” he looks mortified. I giggle putting my hand on his shoulder.

“It will come back soon, give your body time to catch up,” I slip my skirt on, without my panties. “At least I know your weakness now,” I giggle.

“A dominant woman?” he smiles as he slips on his shirt.

“My used panties,” I smirk, motioning to the white fabric sticking out of his bedside drawer. His eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry you can ha-“ I cut him off.

“Keep ‘em. I think you earned it,” I wink. He looks away with blushed cheeks before dressing his bottom half.

209 notes · View notes

bless-my-demons · 11 months

Text

Redamancy: Prologue

Jasper Hale x Reader

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: None for this chapter [this also isn’t beta’d so bear with me]

Notes: it took me so long to work up the courage to actually post my first work, so enjoy! I’ll be over here anxiously awaiting your thoughts.

Word Count: 705

Series Masterlist

A clear horizon. An orange sunset fading into vivid pinks and purples as the atmosphere darkens in preparation for the night. Evening sun warming your face, the space around you drifting into silence as calm settles into your bones, time halting its ever constant forward march, no thoughts or worries.

That’s what it felt like, the moment my eyes met Jasper Hale’s. Like I was done searching for what my heart was in need of as soon as I glanced into those golden pools of his.

• January 24th, 2005 • Forks High School •

Reader

Based on the non-stop gossip floating around this microscopic high school, I’m the newest kid on the block. Dethroning the most recent to wear the title, Bella Swan, the Police Chief’s daughter.

Now, I’m not opposed to the Olympic Peninsula of Washington State, but Forks could strive to be a little more than a one-stoplight town and add a few more amenities. This big city Texas girl needs a little more than Forks Outfitters - the one stop shop for food, basic clothing, and hardware.

I left Dallas because my mom needed me here, my dad didn’t want to trade sunshine and big ranches for rain and freezing temperatures. They’re happily divorced, but I can tell that over time it’s worn her down. I’m just a junior in high school, but I guess she and I can navigate this together.

God, let there be cute boys at this high school, I’m begging you.

I was almost immediately accosted by what I deemed the welcoming committee the moment I locked the door to my car and began the dreaded ‘new kid’ trek to the front office of Forks High School. Stares came from anyone loitering in the parking lot before class while this overly-excited kid, who introduced himself as Eric Yorkie, began what had to be a well rehearsed ‘anything you need’ spiel.

All hopes of flying under the radar halfway through junior year vanished into thin air and I hadn’t even made it to the sidewalk yet.

“Eric? I really appreciate your help and concern, but I was hoping to kinda just glide in on my first day and blend in.” I said as we walked together through the wet parking lot, dodging the bigger puddles so I wouldn't soak my shoes before I got to my first class of the day.

“Oh that’s pretty much impossible here, newcomers are always the only thing everyone talks about. Don’t be scared to hit me up with questions later though, good luck!” Shouting that last part as he dashed off to class, turning the heads of a few close students.

A deep sigh passed my lips as I trudged on, pulling open the heavy door to the administration office. It’s nice to have someone offer help on my first day, I just wish this town was big enough so that I could get lost on everyone’s list of priorities to gossip about or stare at.

Today is going to be a long day.

“Good morning dear!” A sweet older woman announced from behind the central desk in the front office. The name plate in front of her reading ‘Administrative Secretary Shelly Cope’.

“Good morning Miss Cope. I’m Y/n Y/l/n, here to pick up my class schedule and hopefully a map of the place?” I said, cutting to the chase. The front office is a giant fish bowl to the students walking by outside, no one wants to spend more time than necessary here on their first day.

“Oh yes! I’ve got it all printed out and ready to go for ya dear, along with your locker assignment.” She says with a smile, passing the papers across her desk. “Let me know if you have any questions or if you need help with anything!”

“Yes ma’am, thank you!” I responded, half reading my new schedule - half aware of where I was going as I press a shoulder to the exit.

First period Biology

Second period English

Third period Spanish

Fourth period Trigonom-

The front office door smacks straight into an unsuspecting, gorgeous, golden-eyed fellow student, sending the papers clutched in my hands to the ground.

#jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale fanfiction #twilight #twilight fanfiction #reader insert #slow burn #bless-my-demons #redamancy series

383 notes · View notes

thatgirlstrawberry · 1 year

Text

How to Lie to a Behavior Analyst pt. 5

In which Rossi flies down to LA that very night and Y/N finds out who her attacker is along with how her dad had known all along

Warnings: angst, crying, sadness, protective rossi, cursing, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Every hour in a hospital had been said to last 500 when you were waiting on someone you love. Spencer sat in the waiting room with his leg bouncing up and down. His eyes were trained on a spot in the floor.

On the phone, Rossi said that he was on his way and that he would be there in an hour or two because he would be taking the jet. He also sounded angry, scared, worried— just all of the emotions really.

A million thoughts ran through his head. Who would want to hurt Y/N? What did the note say— the note.

He quickly got up from his seat and rushed towards the doors he came in from. He decided that he should probably move it so ambulances could come in.

So that’s what he did. He quickly moved it out of the way and into a parking space near the doors before turning on the lights in the car and looking for the note.

He avoided the bag of puke sitting on the floor and searched for the piece of paper.

When he finally found it, he decided that he’d wait until he was inside to read it so, he stuck it in his pocket.

His feet carried him quickly into the hospital and he looked around. His eyes landed on a familiar figure damn near leaning over the reception desk.

“I don’t care who fucking brought her here, take me to my damn daughter or I swear to god I’m gonna—“

“Rossi! Rossi, stop!” Spencer shouted, rushing up to him.

The man turned around. “What the fuck happened, Spencer!?” He shouted. “Why won’t anyone tell me anything?”

Spencer was going to answer but he saw the doctor who took Y/N coming their way. “Her doctor.” He pointed.

Rossi moved away from Spencer and met the doctor halfway. “Please, you gotta tell me what’s wrong with my daughter.”

Spencer made his way to them and the doctor glanced between them. “You’re the father and you’re the husband?” He asked.

Rossi shook his head. “This— no this is not her husband. It doesn’t matter, what’s wrong with her. What happened?”

The doctor clicked his tongue. “We pulled some of her blood for testing but I suspect she was injected with a high dosage of Opiates causing her to overdose. We gave her narcan but I’m not sure we gave it to her in time to prevent any brain damage.”

Rossi sighed and covered his face. “Okay— how is she? Can I see her?”

The doctor nodded. “She just woke up but she’s not fully down from her high. Her words aren’t gonna be coherent but I would try to keep her awake for as long as possible so we can asses her brain activity.”

Spencer and Rossi nodded. “Thank you.”

“And try to talk one at a time. Don’t confuse her.” He waved his hand and began walking back towards the room.

It was silent between Spencer and Rossi as they walked. The doctor rambled on about her symptoms and side effects.

He lowered his voice to a whisper and smiled as he walked I to the room. “Y/N?” He spoke. She sat in bed, a frown on her lips. Her eyes were narrowed and they were darting around the room.

“Hi…” She spoke quietly, her voice hoarse.

The doctor glanced back at the two men. “There are some people here to see you.”

They stepped into the room and she looked confused for a moment. “Daddy?” She whispered. She looked at Spencer.

“Hi, Y/N.” Rossi spoke softly, walking up to his daughter’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

She cleared her throat. “Uh… I don’t know how I feel.” She shrugged.

Rossi nodded. “That’s okay, honey.”

Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes. “Am I dying? I-I don’t know why I’m here— I think I’m dying— Spencer, please. I don’t wanna die.”

Spencer walked up to her, looking at Rossi making sir he knew that it was his turn to speak. “You’re not dying, Y/N.” He shook his head with a small comforting smile. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Her hands fidgeted with each other. “W-well what happened? I don’t know what happened.”

“We’re not sure yet, honey.” Rossi answered. Her head snapped over to his direction. “But we’re gonna figure it out, all right?”

Spencer cleared his throat. “I need to talk to you.” He told Rossi, nodding towards the door.

He nodded and looked at his daughter. “We’ll be right back, okay? Try to stay awake for me.” The men walked out of the room after she nodded sleepily.

“What, Reid?” Rossi snapped when they were in the hallway.

Spencer took the piece of paper out of his pocket. “This. On the way here, she said whoever did this gave it to her.”

Rossi snatched it from between his fingers and unfolded it. “‘A liar, your… father is… I deserve someone too. The twig’s heart will be snapped in half when I get you back because it will be forever. And you will be mine.’” Rossi furrowed his brows. “What the hell is this? What does it mean?”

Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know. Our best bet right now is to look at the hotel security cameras. We might catch him there.”

Rossi sighed. “You know I’m gonna have to call the team if we can’t do it ourselves right?”

Spencer nodded. “Rossi, please. Please don’t tell anyone about us. That way, I can still work on the case. You know that you need me.”

The man sighed. “Why don’t you get ahold of the LAPD. I need to stay with my daughter.”

Spencer nodded and sighed heavily, walking away and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

The LAPD showed up at the hospital and hour after Spencer called them. He stood outside of Y/N’s room getting the sense that Rossi didn’t want him in there.

The doctor told them that a side effect of the Narcan they gave her was crying so he stood out there listening to her sob uncontrollably. Rossi had to resort to singing her an old Italian nursery rhyme to get her to calm down.

The lead detective met Spencer in the hallway followed by a few officers. “Good evening. Mr. Reid?”

He kicked off of the wall and nodded. “Yes, hi. Detective Lassiter, thank you for coming.” He nodded.

“So, unfortunately, we don’t have a warrant to look at the security camera footage.” Detective Lassiter explained. “But we do have permission to sweep the floor for any DNA left on the walls and floors only.”

Spencer was angry. “No cameras? Are you fucking serious?” His chest heaved. His fists were in tight balls.

He nodded somberly. “I’m sorry sir. We’re gonna need to ask the victim some questions, if now’s a good time.”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m sure she won’t remember anything but you can try.”

He turned into the room and his eyes softened when he saw Y/N in her father’s arms rocking back and forth.

“Y/N?” He called softly. She lifted her head from her father’s shoulder and looked at him.

“Oh h-hi.” She looked at the men behind her.

He walked forward slowly. “This is detective Lassiter. He wants to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”

Y/N looked at her dad nervously. “C-can I?” She asked. Rossi tilted his head and nodded.

The woman sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. She looked up at Spencer and glanced at the chair next to her bed with pleading eyes.

He cleared his throat and moved through the room, sitting beside her. He scooted the chair a little closer.

Detective Lassiter sat in the chair in front of the bed and the officer behind him pulled out a pen and pad.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” He asked.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Y/N R-Rossi.”

The officer scribbled down on the paper. “And how old are you?”

“26.”

The detective straightened up and cleared his throat. “And I understand that you were… taken out of the hotel by someone. Do you remember what you were doing when it happened?”

Y/N inhaled sharply. “I uh… I remember my teeth hurting.” Her voice was quiet. “And it was cold. And I remember… Ice.” She shook her head.

She glanced up at the officer who was nodding and writing. “Anything else?”

She looked down at her fidgeting hands. “I know… he said something to me.” She nodded. “I can’t remember— I just know he said— something.” Her eyes watered. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything else.”

She reached for Spencer’s hand but remembered who all was in the room and played it off like she was just grabbing the edge of her itchy hospital blanket.

The detective nodded. “Okay that’s okay. Take your time.” He sighed. “Can you remember anything before the ice.”

Y/N pressed her lips together. “Um… her eyebrows furrowed. Um… sweating a-and feeling really… good.” Spencer could tell that she didn’t know what was happening. She was describing the sex that they had before she left the room.

Rossi behind her and glared at Spencer. Of course he knew what was happening. He cleared his throat. “Okay. That’s it, detective. Thank you.” The father nodded. “I think Y/N needs some rest.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He got up from his seat, looking at Y/N. “Ms. Rossi, thank you. If you remember anything else, give me a call.” He leaned forward and placed a card on her bed.

She nodded and looked at her father and then Spencer. “Thank you. I will.”

The officers and Detective Lassiter left the room and it fell silent. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?”

She let out a heavy breath. “I’m trying to remember the words.” She said. “I— I Can hear the voice but the sounds are— like mixed a-and I don’t know- I can’t—“

Rossi shushed her soothingly. “It’s okay, Y/N. I promise. We’ll find this son of a bitch one way or another.” Y/N nodded and Rossi stood up. “I’m going to go get you something to eat, okay?”

She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, dad.”

He left the room and she looked at her boyfriend. “W-wait, Spencer why does he think you’re here?” She asked. He looked at her with furrowed brows and parted lips. “Wait, how did he even hear about this? Did someone call him?”

Spencer sighed and leaned forward. “Um… Y/N, he knows.”

Her eyes widened. “He knows?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She covered her face with her hands and groaned quietly. “Is he mad at me?” She asked. “At you? Oh, I don’t want him to be mad at you.” She shook her head.

“He hasn’t said anything about it yet. He’s not mad.”

Spencer still felt like he was lying to her somehow.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Spencer paced the halls of the hospital trying to get ahold of Penelope. He bit his lip as the phone rang too slowly for his liking.

“Boy wonder! How’s your mommy trip?” She asked when she answered the phone.

He cleared his throat. “Garcia, I need you to hack into a set of hotel security cameras but I need you to do it privately.” He spoke. “And I need you to send the feed to my phone.”

“Uhhhhhh first of all, say hi to me first. Second of all, why and what hotel?”

He licked his lips. “Hi, García. Angeles, 6th floor please.” He nodded.

“You never said why, Reid.” She hummed.

“Because I’m trying to figure out who drugged Y/N, now can you please just do it?” He snapped.

There was a gulp on the other end and his phone made a beeping noise. He pulled it away from his ear and pressed accept on a feed share notification.

Suddenly, his screen filled with a not so smooth video. “Can you switch angles so I can see room 612?” Spencer asked quietly, biting his lip. The camera switched angles four times until it stopped so they can clearly see the room and the ice machine across the hallway. “Okay, now can you back it up to like 9:45 pm?” He asked.

The video began to reverse itself quickly and Spencer saw a familiar figure on the screen. “Okay, stop!” He shouted.

Garcia stopped pressed rewind and let the feed play. Y/N was seen walking out of a hotel room with a black bucket. She had a smile on her face and a pep in her step.

She stopped at the ice machine and a figure dressed in black pants and a black shirt came from the entry way of the hall. It didn’t look like Y/N noticed him. He came up behind her and grabbed a handful of ice out of the bucket and shoved it into her mouth. There was no sound on the feed but he could tell that was to muffle her shouts.

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and brought the phone closer to his face. He hated seeing her like this but he had to figure out who did this to her.

Y/N began kicking her feet as he lifted her off the ground with one arm as he reached into his pocket with his other. The bucket fell from her hands and spilled all over the floor. Spencer’s eyebrows popped up when he saw her bite his hand.

Then, he pulled a syringe out of his pocket and jabbed it harshly into her neck. She went limp in his arms and a few ice chips fell from her mouth.

He put her down on her feet and propped her against his side and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Her feet were barely moving and her head hung down low.

“Oh my god.” Penelope gasped.

Spencer shook his head. “Rewind it to the part where he came into the shot.” He ordered.

She did and he told her to pause and zoom in. “There.”

“Is that…?” Penelope started.

“Benjamin Fitz.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N looked between her dad and Spencer. Rossi still had no idea who drugged Y/N. Neither did the victim.

“Okay.” He looked at Rossi. “I know I wasn’t supposed to do this but I called Garcia and I had her hack into the security cameras at the hotel.”

Rossi sighed. “What the hell, Reid.”

“Just stop- I know who did this.” He told them. “It was Benjamin Fitz.”

Rossi looked down and Y/N gasped. “No, no. That’s right.” She nodded. “I think I recognized his voice. I knew I recognized his voice.”

The older man sighed. “Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

She furrowed her brows. “Dad, it’s not your fault-“

“I only set you up with him because I wanted to get back at you and Spencer for going behind my back.” Y/N paused her movements and looked up at him. Spencer shut his eyes like he didn’t want Rossi to say anything.

Y/N scoffed. “Wait. Y-you knew?” She asked, her face getting hot. Rossi nodded and she looked at Spencer, tearing up. “And you knew that he knew?”

Spencer opened his mouth but no words came out.

“So.. you set me up with a psycho because you were mad and you…” She looked at her boyfriend. “You let me run around like an idiot when I didn’t even have to all along?”

“Y/N, I—“

“Get the fuck out.” She snapped. Rossi tilted his head but neither of them moved. “I’m serious get the fuck out!”

Rossi sighed and looked down before doing as she wished and leaving the room. Spencer was still left standing there. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t want—“

Y/N scoffed. “Spencer, get out. Seriously, I don’t want to see you right now.”

He let out a sad breath and turned around, walking out the door and shutting it.

Y/N sat there in tears for a moment.

A moment until she heard a shout and a gunshot.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Next chapter is the last!!!! Also who expected it to be Ben from the book party?!?!?

And the ending to this one might seem a little rushed so sorry about that :)))

Love ya bunches ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist:

@mrsgweasley

@tuesday-yellowxx

@blue-willows

@monzarella

@winkev1

@criminallymagic

@mermateyepmatewithte

@lipstixstain

@urlovelydarling

@dreatine

@f-me-reid

@fantastic-fans

@aleyda5

@thatsonezesty13

@creativeuser101

@d0ntfeedaftermidnight

@jacksonms31

@scorpiofangirl1109

@perseuswaves

@baseballmama35

@lilybarnesposts

@s-udaku-my-love

@melifluorei-d

@lavenderrway

#spencer reid #spencer fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x original female character #criminal minds #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #Rossi!fem!reader

792 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 7 months

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 2)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by john.marino97, jesperbratt, and 226,513 others

y/ndevils00 hello and welcome back to your preseason recap! i’m your host, y/n “dove”, here to give you my totally unbiased and not at all subjective rundown!

as this is preseason, not all of our favorite whores were playing tonight (gotta give the babies a chance!) but among the ones who WERE, we have best friend (or idiot) number 2, sweet baby jesper, akira-shakira, basket bahl, smush, uncle lizard, new-found uncle truffle, and everyone’s favorite babygirl: jacky!

side note: do you guys think Jack was looking around suspiciously in fear of me taking his picture? 👀

we had a pretty uneventful first period until my recently acquired uncle, tyler, scored the first goal of the game! go uncle truffle! he also let uncle lizard borrow his stick and glove! we love besties who share!

we opened second period with (fuck it we) bahl getting a penalty for interference! in my opinion, he didn’t interfere with anything because trash cannot be disrupted… but whatever! (yes i did stand on an empty seat to get that picture over the glass, no i will not be stopped)

halfway through second we had a goalie switch! those are fun! (they are not fun.) and i was caught taking a picture…. that doesn’t happen often, the guys can’t usually find me… i think schmido-torpedo has a y/n-sense. kinda like the sense i have to catch Jack when he’s watching cocomelon (that can also be found on slide 6)

in third period, my sweet sweet baby bratter got the devils ahead by one with his goal! pop off, you sweet swedish fish!

seeing as he went to the matt tkachuk school of hockey, lukey pookie was seen chewing on his mouth guard like LSH and electrical cords 🫶

and finally, i added in a picture of maraschino cherry, because he did good tonight despite being the apparent object of the rags hatred and being targeted! he held his own and even pushed a rags player tonight!

p.s. we scored an empty netter goal as well, getting us a 3-2 win tonight, but the puck flew in on its own for us? who knew that was possible!

tagged jackhughes, curtislazar95, tofff73, kevinbahl88, akiraschmid93, jesperbratt, lhughes_06, and john.marino97

Load more comments

jackhughes i live in constant fear of your camera

y/ndevils00 oh shush, you love my camera

jackhughes no, i love YOU. i put up with your camera

y/ndevils00 aw shucks, you love me 🥰

jackhughes dear god please don’t ever say “aw shucks” again

y/ndevils00 ya know, i’m not really feeling the love here

jackhughes never intended for you to

user29 marino: 😗 y/n: 📸

john.marino97 did i just get… outright praise from you?! i thought i knew what it felt like to win, but i never REALLY did until now

y/ndevils00 don’t get used to it. i pitied you and best friend number 1 didn’t play tonight

john.marino97 i’m gonna ignore that

jackhughes for the last time: I’M WATCHING PLAYS! NOT COCOMELON!

y/ndevils00 say what you want but i know your youtube history

kevinbahl88 i was trying so hard to ignore you

y/ndevils00 you can’t ignore me forever, soccer bahl! i always get to the players eventually!

kevinbahl88 you scare me

y/ndevils00 you’re like 10 feet tall, how do EYE scare YOU? you could squash me like a spider

kevinbahl88 or i could not be watching and trip over you and break my neck

y/ndevils00 this feels like an attack on MY height now… @/colecaufield how do you deal with this?

colecaufield now hold on… wtf

akiraschmid93 i do have a y/n sense, i acquired it over the playoffs

y/ndevils00 that scares me

akiraschmid93 i’m always watching

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes TELL HIM TO STOP

jackhughes how does it feel, dove?

y/ndevils00 i- LSH and i are moving in with john

john.marino97 no, you’re not! i can’t have you there to cockblock when i’m trying to hook up

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 this is why dawson is best friend number 1

lhughes_06 did you just compare me to your cat with an apparent death wish?

y/ndevils00 be nice to Lil’ Satan! she may not be smart, but where she lacks brain cells, she makes up for in cuddles! kinda like your brother!

jackhughes all i do is love you and this is the thanks i get?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you get other kinds of thanks too! but you said i can’t speak of that on here anymore

lhughes_06 god please don’t. i see all your posts.

user18 y/n is out here acquiring uncles like i acquire new nhl crushes

tofff73 did you just nickname me truffle? and call me your uncle?

y/ndevils00 welcome to the devils!

tofff73 thanks? i think?

nicohischier you get used to her, she’s an acquired taste… but you have no choice but to acquire it

curtislazar95 you are my favorite niece

y/ndevils00 🥹 and you are my favorite uncle, lizard man 🫶

curtislazar95 🦎💚

jesperbratt hey! that’s me!

y/ndevils00 that’s you!! you look at you all smiley and scoring a goal! i’ll break lindy’s kneecaps for you… i don’t think it would be that hard. he’s old.

nicohischier y/n, i’m BEGGING you to stop dissing our coach. you’re gonna lose your job!

y/ndevils00 @/nicohischier nah, lindy thinks i’m funny

jackhughes @/nicohischier i wish she was joking but i’m pretty sure he called her his honorary daughter last sunday after she said she would be in his walls if she couldn’t go to Montreal and see Cole

dawson1417 i feel left out. i don’t like not playing!

y/ndevils00 so get your skates on and play! what lindy gonna do? tell you no?

dawson1417 uh yeah?

y/ndevils00 oh- well leave that up to me then

dawson1417 what are you gonna do…

y/ndevils00 shhh don’t worry about it

trevorzegras i’m so glad i’m not a devil and don’t have to be subjected to these posts

y/ndevils00 you’re unemployed, you should probably be worrying about bigger things right now before i have to see you as a thirst trap tiktoker

user72 the return of jack the ipad kid!!

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3 #faithlynn’s insta edits <3

270 notes · View notes

onigiriico · 1 year

Text

Shidou audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify / Youtube ]

Thank you Shidou for going on a deep dive into both medicine and law in one drama. I have not learned this much new vocabulary in a while lmao (Jokes aside though, I do hope that I managed to get through this without any major errors! As always, if you find any mistakes anyway or just have questions, feel free to bring them to my ask box or my Twitter ✨)

Also, there's a direct quote from the Japanese criminal law at one point in this vd - the translation of that line is based on this translation of Japanese law.

⬇️ full voice drama translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

E: It’s been a while, Shidou.

S: Orbital floor fracture on the right. Traumatic retinal detachment. Bruising. Lacerations. Partial fracture of the thorax. This is Kajiyama-kun’s present condition.

E: I know that. I didn’t anticipate Kotoko’s behavior, either. For now, I’ll be taking the opportunity of this second trial to judge–

E: Fuuta’s…

S: Shiina-kun’s is even worse. Head lacerations. Bruising all over her body. Left anterior compression fracture. A sprained neck. Fractured ribs. Further fracturing to the left arm. And furthermore… this may be outside of my profession, but her mental health is deteriorating as well.

E: Mahiru…

S: Both their minds and bodies are at their limits. Let’s stop this already, Es-kun. A lot has happened while you were gone. At this rate, someone might end up dead.

S: That’s not what I mean! I think we should put an end to Milgram as a whole. Both for our sake and for yours.

E: …That’s impossible.

S: Why?

E: I can’t think of any method of stopping it… or any way to get out.

S: …!

E: Milgram won’t end just because I want it to. That’s all I know. It won’t end until your judgment is complete. That’s the core of it.

S: You’re… the same as us, aren’t you? You just got caught up in a bigger picture.

E: Don’t lump me in with you! You’re an inmate, I’m the Warden. Now that I’ve started this, I intend to see it through until the end.

S: Es-kun…

E: Anyways, your eyes sure have gained some life since we last saw each other. Back then, you always wore an expression that made it hard to tell whether you were alive or dead, but…

S: Is that so?

E: Is it because you’ve received the result of the first trial…?

S: About that… I’ve been thinking that I would like to hear your thoughts. Why did you forgive me? Even though I asked not to be forgiven.

E: Why would the Warden listen to what a prisoner tells them? I decide based on my own standards.

S: You saw my true self, didn’t you? There ought to be very few people who have killed more than I have. In comparison to me, the prisoners who weren’t forgiven have also hardly done anything wrong.

E: You’re a doctor. I’ve deduced that your murders happened in the context of medical procedures.

S: …

E: Organ transplants… in other words, the act of removing organs from braindead patients. That’s what your murder is. Am I wrong?

S: I see. So that’s what was shown in the footage?

E: Not that straight-forward, of course. But from the information given, we came to the conclusion that this is the most likely scenario.

S: Hm? ‘We’...?

E: …

S: You said ‘we’ just now...

E: …Did I… say that…?

S: Yes.

E: …Fine. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get back to the topic. The topic of what I deduced, that is.

S: It’s impressive, isn’t it… Milgram… After all this time, I won’t try to deny it being a top class prison, but it really is the real thing.

E: Is that your way of saying I was right?

S: Well… About halfway, I would say.

E: Hmph. Either way, I judged that murders as the result of medical practices could be forgiven. Without regard to what you were hoping for.

S: …

E: I intend to investigate in my own way. Whether or not it’s okay to regard braindead patients entirely as dead… it seems that this has become an increasingly controversial topic in recent years.

S: You’ve done your research.

E: I don’t care about the discussions of your world, though. I decided that you could be forgiven. That’s enough.

S: … Why is that?

E: In the first place, getting involved with organ transplants is part of your job as a doctor. I doubt it’s something that you did out of your own free will.

S: I… I took a lot of pride in my work. I considered it a good deed. I wouldn’t say I didn’t do it out of my own will.

E: Well, you did it to save people, didn’t you? In truth, there must have been a fair amount of people whom you did save with it.

S: I thought so, too. Doing it for a good cause without a single doubt.

E: In exchange for the life of a person who has no option left but to await death, you can save a person who has the chance to live on, right? In that case, you shouldn’t even have to think twice.

S: I thought so, too… arrogant as I was.

E: Is that to say that you don’t think that way anymore?

S: Yes, that’s right. You know, I… continuously tried to persuade the relatives of a braindead patient who were against organ transplants. Giving them reasons like the ones you just mentioned, Es-kun. “In order to save the life of someone you don’t know, please let me kill your family,” I told them. It doesn’t even take much thinking to realize how cruel that is, but… I didn’t realize it until the very end.

E: … Isn’t that just a placebo? I would think that family ties play no role in that context.

S: Do you still feel that way if it’s your own family?

E: …

S: Es-kun, is your family alive and well?

E: I don’t know… I don’t remember.

S: Is that so? I’m sorry about that.

E: It’s fine. It’s not like I feel any particular way about something I don’t even remember. Besides, I don’t think my judgment would change even if it involved my own family.

S: There’s no way.

E: Even if my family happened to end up imprisoned in Milgram, I would see my job through to the end.

S: Family is… special.

E: Huh?

S: Let’s digress for a moment. Have you studied criminal law?

E: Well, the most important parts at least. I’ve been learning about it since I started working as the Warden.

S: Excellent. So, for example, if someone harbors a criminal or tampers with evidence in order to protect that criminal, that is a crime in itself, right?

E: That’s articles 103 and 104.

S: You remembered well. Can you recall article 105 as well?

E: No… Are you familiar with it?

S: It’s not my area of expertise, but I remember it because it left a big impression on me. Article 105 states that, “when a crime prescribed under the preceding two Articles is committed for the benefit of the criminal or fugitive by a relative of such person, the relative may be exempted.”

E: So essentially, even if someone covered for a criminal or helped them out, they won’t be held legally responsible for it if the criminal is part of their family?

S: That’s right. For me, no matter whether it’s according to the law or in any other context, it’s only normal to help each other in a family.

E: That’s a very fascinating story. But even with all this, I still don’t get what you’re trying to say.

S: (chuckles) I wonder. Maybe I just wanted you to listen to it.

E: … As always, I can’t entirely wrap my head around you.

S: I’m talking about how, unlike you, I can no longer claim that I’m doing my work for a good cause. I’ve lost the right to.

E: And something happened that changed your mind?

S: That’s… right. Although you’ll probably be finding out about that once you watch the extracted footage.

E: Yeah. Let’s have a look.

S: Es-kun. I’ve killed a lot of people. Like I previously told you in the interrogation, I’ve killed for selfish reasons as well. So…

E: Are you about to beg me not to forgive you again? Even though I’ve already told you it’s no use?

S: That’s right. Please don’t forgive me… is what I would like to ask.

E: …

S: I… “I don’t want to be forgiven”. That feeling of mine remains the same. I need to be punished. I need to atone for my sins. I don’t think Milgram is in the right, but…! There is no better place than this to atone for my crimes. But… as long as Milgram continues like this… we won’t be able to save those who get injured if I don’t get forgiven!

E: …!

S: Even now, Shiina-kun is still in a condition where any digression could be fatal. She can’t live without my treatment. If I’m not forgiven, she will end up dying!

E: That’s… true, I suppose.

S: From now on, conflicts between the prisoners will probably become more frequent. If I’m not there… they will be in even more danger.

E: Shidou…

(machinery whirrs, bell rings)

S: I need to be punished… but I need to stay alive, or young lives will be lost. I… I don’t know what to wish for anymore. I’m starting to think… that I want to live. That I want to be forgiven. Despite being so riddled with sins…!

E: … Shidou. Do you remember what I told you?

S: …

E: Back when you were still fine with dying at any moment, I told you to desperately want to live. “Because we have an attachment to life, punishments for sins exist in the first place. Your existence in itself is a sacrilege to Milgram and myself,” I said.

S: Yes… I remember.

E: And now, finally, you’ve gotten attached to life and become a real prisoner of Milgram. That’s what I believe. You wanting to be forgiven, and your wish… those are the steps that now represent you.

S: … That won’t do… I mustn’t be forgiven. Otherwise… the countless lives I’ve taken will never be paid back.

E: Heh. If you’re really trying to give your life as compensation for the people you’ve killed, then there’s no reason to stay alive that will hold up, anyway.

S: …

E: Don’t face them with a life that you’re easily willing to throw away.

S: Es-kun, you’re a… strict… person, aren’t you?

E: I told you before, didn’t I? Because you’re the type of person I dislike the most.

S: (chuckles) It’s a pity. Since coming to Milgram, I’m being hated by children left and right. Even though I do like them.

E: Hmph. Like I care. But… but, you know…

S: Hm?

E: Thank you for saving Fuuta and Mahiru. I’m glad you’re here in Milgram, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart.

S: Es…kun…

E: That’s all. Prisoner no.5, Shidou – sing your sins.

#milgram #milgram music videos #milgram es #milgram shidou #shidou kirisaki #translation #fan translation #audio drama #this really was. a comparatively tame vd after all the wild ones we've had so far in this trial ngl

474 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

i’m literally so in love with nurse stevie !! he and his clumsy girl are so sweet 🤍

i was thinking, what if she was having a pregnancy check up and it happened to be at a time where steve was on shift so he like races down to where she is and does the ultrasound himself and gets to see the baby and she asks why he ran down here or something and he accidentally says “i missed my girls” and she’s like “wait it’s a girl?”

idk just him doing the ultrasound himself and accidentally telling her it’s a girl is just asjsueked ahhh so fkn cute

AN | Okay but stop! This is the cutest and with how much of a loveable disaster these two are, I could totally see this happening 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language, Pregnant!Reader

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite your best efforts, a small sigh escaped your lips as you looked at your watch. Steve should have been off by now - he realistically should have been off about an hour ago, but you were used to that by now. There was a still small part of you that had hoped he would be here for the ultrasound. You knew you could just take home the photos, but it wouldn’t be the same. There was always next time, but today you were halfway through your pregnancy and it felt like a milestone.

When you heard your name being called by the ultrasound tech, you stood up and made your way over. You suddenly felt very pregnant with how long it took you to properly stand up and make your way over to her. At least you weren’t waddling just yet.

“Hello there,” Mary was sweet with a kind face and gentle smile. She’d been the one to help you out since the beginning and had always made you feel better, especially when you had a million and one questions, “no Steve today?”

“He was going to try and make it,” you explained and she made a small sound of understanding, “but it appears he got stuck past his shift.”

“The ER has been pretty busy today,” at least that confirmed your thought that he got stuck working late, “and you know how he is. Always going above and beyond for everyone and everything.”

“Trust me,” you grinned as you set your stuff down and moved to lie on the table which had become a friend the past few months, “I’m well aware. He’s being even more cautious than normal these days. I can barely lift a finger before he’s offering to do it or helping.”

“Well…” she was grinning in spite of yourself as you sighed dramatically, already knowing where this was heading, “remind me how the two of you met again? Something about a broken ankle?”

“Very funny,” you snorted in amusement, “I’ll have you know that nothing bad has happened in months! I’ve been very careful.”

“Mhmm,” she shot you a wink as you laid back and slowly began to undo the button of your jeans. Before she could say anything else, a frantic knocking came at the door, causing you both to pause, “do you want me to check who it is or let them know we’re busy?”

“You can check,” you shrugged, “don’t want to keep you from something potentially more important.”

She gave you a small smile before slowly opening the door. Mary almost laughed out loud when she found Steve on the other side, a panicked expression on his face as he tried to catch his breath, “hey! Hi, sorry I’m late - is she still here? Please don’t tell me I missed it!”

“We were just getting started,” she stepped aside to let him in, and as soon as he spotted you, he gave you a huge grin and visibly relaxed, “better check with your wife to make sure she wants you to stay.”

“He’s alright, I guess,” you teased, but Steve wasted no time before gently talking your face in his hands and leaning down to kiss you. You almost melted into his tender touch and the feel of his soft lips on yours. When he pulled back he was practically beaming, “on second thought, he can absolutely stay.”

“As if you’d ever say no to him,” you looked at your husband and shrugged, giving both of them a sheepish grin. She was right - you couldn’t fathom any situation in which you’d turn him down for anything, “ready to get started and see your baby?”

“Definitely!”

“Actually, Mary, I have a request,” you raised your eyebrows, trying to fathom what it could possibly be. He turned towards her so you were looking at his back and spoke softly under his breath, “I know we don’t usually do this, but do you think I can do the ultrasound today? I’m trained on how to do them and thought it might be cool, you know? But I understand if you say no…”

“You’re something else, Harrington,” there was nothing but playful affection lacing her words as she shook her head in amusement. He gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster up, which all things considered were pretty good, “alright, I’ll let you have at it. But this stays between us and if anyone ever asks, I was here doing it and you were just watching. Yes?”

“Yes,” he cheered softly, “you’re the best, Mary.”

“Don’t forget that the next time I need a favor,” she shot him a wink before turning back to you. You hadn’t heard their hushed conversation and looked at them in confusion, “well, I gotta get going but I’ll be back in a bit. Good luck!”

“You’re going…what? I don’t-” but she was gone and out the door before you could say anything else. You looked at Steve and raised your hands in confusion, “wait a minute, what are you two up to?”

“Nothing at all,” he smiled innocently before reaching to grab something off the cart, “but I’ll be conducting your ultrasound today, Mrs. Harrington. Now, whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh Steve,” you laughed at him, rolling your eyes playfully, “well then, I’m ready whenever you are, my love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a strange feeling to be lying on the hard examination bed, with your belly out (which seemed to have grown overnight out of nowhere) and covered in the cold jelly. You’d already learned that it was definitely not your favorite thing in the world. But the moment was perfect with Steve right next to you. As ever, he was calm and patient, treating you with such gentle reverence that made you weak in the knees. Good thing you were lying down or your clumsy self might have actually fallen.

“Let us see what we have here,” Steve brought out the wand and settled it on your stomach, causing a shiver to run down your spine. At first there was nothing for a few moments, which caused your worry and anxiety to spike, despite the fact that you knew the baby was one - definitely in there and two - had been moving around in the day. You waited with bated breath until you heard the sound of the small heartbeat over the monitor, “just as I suspected, we have - a baby!”

He turned to you with an amused little grin and you couldn’t help but laugh at him, “really? I thought we were getting a puppy! Is it too late to exchange it?”

“Ahh, sorry honey,” he shook his head before kissing your cheek, “I think it’s too late. We’re going to be stuck with a small human.”

“I guess I can live with that,” your eyes were glued to the monitor where you could see the blob that was your baby. They were moving around and you couldn’t help the tears that sprung up along with the wave of emotion that washed over you. It all seemed so surreal; you were having a baby. A baby with your wonderful husband. What a crazy world it was, “look at that blob. That’s our blob!”

“Oh honey,” he turned to look at you, a soft smile on his pretty features as he tenderly wiped away the tears that had pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, “it’s okay. Baby’s looking great!”

“I know,” you leaned into his touch, letting his large, warm palm engulf your cheek as you offered him a teary smile, “it’s just all so overwhelming, and I’m already all emotional, you know this by now. I just…I’m really happy, Steve.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he kissed you, not minding the salty of your tears, and you sighed wistfully against his lips, “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you teasingly poked at your belly, “and you too baby blob.”

“They’re going to come out of the womb thinking their name is Blob!”

“Tell them to stop looking like a blob then,” yeah, it might have been a blob, but you were already so enamored with it, “does everything look okay? Honestly?”

“I would never lie to you,” he wrote down a few things in your chart as you tried to peek over his shoulder as if you would understand any of it, “you know that. Yes, everything looks good. Strong, steady heartbeat, measuring around the perfect size. It all checks out - that is a healthy baby, and mother.”

"Good," you let out a nervous sigh of relief, "I can't wait to meet you little blob."

"Halfway there."

"Halfway there," you repeated, suddenly feeling like that was coming on way faster than you wanted, "slow down there little one!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve knew you almost better than you knew yourself. You were already tucked up in bed, half-heartedly watching some movie on TV, but mostly trying not to fall asleep by the time he came into the bedroom. He had a glass of chocolate milk and a plate with some cookies in his hands. Your face lit up with excitement - you'd just been thinking about a sweet treat.

"Is this alright?" He asked, setting everything down on the bedside table before pressing a kiss to the side of your temple, "I had a feeling you'd been wanting something sweet right about now."

"You are my hero," you looked at him with big, wide doe eyes, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. He tasted sweet; you just knew he'd already snuck a few cookies, "thank you, my love."

"No need to thank me," he pulled up the big fluffy comforter and crawled under it. He made himself comfortable before pulling you into his side. You rested your head on his chest and sighed wistfully, "how are you feeling?"

"Good," you promised, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together, "today was good. I'm just tired, but that seems to be the new normal. But it's worth it - it was amazing getting to see the blob today. Thank you for coming, Steve. You didn't have to rush and leave work though, I know how hard you always work …there'll be plenty of other appointments."

"Are you kidding?" He scoffed playfully, "I wasn't going to miss it. I was already missing my girls too much."

"I - wait," you sat up and moved across from him so you were looking directly at him, "your what? Your girls?"

"Oh honey," a guilty, sheepish look crossed his features, "I-I didn't mean to…say that."

"We're having a girl?" and cue the waterworks. You most definitely couldn't help it at this point, emotions like a live wire as the tears rolled down your cheeks, "Steve?"

"Yeah," his smile was breathtaking as he nodded softly, "we're having a girl."

"Oh Steve!" you threw your arms around his neck and held onto him tightly, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He was surprised by your sudden excitement but melted into your touch as he pulled you onto his lap, "we're having a girl!"

"I'm sorry," his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, "I know we said we weren't going to find out, and then I realized today at the ultrasound. I didn't think that one through. But I also didn't plan on telling you…it sort of slipped out. Sorry, honey."

"I know that's what we said," you pressed a big, excited kiss to his cheek, "but I've been dying to know too. I'm not upset, Stevie. I'm just…so happy."

"Yeah?" There was a dopey, lovesick smile on his face as you nodded fervently, "me too, sweetheart."

"It just makes it feel more real," you looked down at your bump, running your hand over it. Holy fuck. There was a baby girl growing there. A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt a flutter of movement, "oh!"

You grabbed Steve's hand and placed it on the spot you had felt the movement and watched his face light up as he felt her move. You placed your hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. You could see his pretty brown eyes glittering with unshed tears as, "Hey, baby girl. We're going to meet you really soon. Your mama and I love you so much already."

She moved around some more, clearly wanting to make herself known, and that left the two of you both emotional fools, "she likes you, likes your voice. She's totally gonna have you wrapped around her finger."

"Well, her mother already does so it's only natural," he touched your face, brushing his thumb gently over your cheek, as he studied you, “you know, some days none of this feels real. Like…how did I get my dream girl and get all of this, huh? Seems more like a lucid dream.”

“Dream girl?” you rolled your eyes affectionately before lightly pushing his cheek, “you’re so dramatic. I highly doubt your dream girl ever was the fool that trips over her own feet, manages to dislocate her elbow…among other things. It was a happy circumstance that we met!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he insisted, pressing his forehead against yours and letting his lips brush over yours, “you are my dream girl, and you were worth waiting for. You might be my clumsy girl, but you’re also my dream. I mean it - you are everything to me.”

“You’re not playing fair,” your voice cracked as you wrapped him up in your arms, clinging onto him like a koala. You were lightly crying again, unable to control the hundred of emotions that were coursing through your veins right now, “you’re taking advantage of my fragile state.”

“Oh honey, honey,” you could feel the rumble of his chuckle in his chest, but you refused to loosen your grip on him, “it’s okay, just let it all out. I’ve got you - I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you were pretty sure that there was no better spot than right there in his arms, “you're the best thing that’s happened to me. I’m so glad I broke my ankle and got to meet you.”

“Baby,” he sighed softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back, “that’s…we would have met some other way, I swear it. But I guess…I’m glad you did too.”

“And now you’re my husband,” you pulled back and gently took his handsome face in your hands as he nodded softly, “and we’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, turning his face so he could press a kiss to your palm, “we’re married and having a baby.”

“Steve?” he never loved his name more than when you said, always so sweet and soft. He made a small sound, encouraging you to go on, “you’re my dream too.”

And he practically melted in your arms as he leaned in to kiss you, “glad we’re on the same page, sweetheart. But now, the important question is - are you ready for cookies and a back rub?”

“Oh yes,” you practically groaned at the thought, “best husband ever.”

“I try,” he reached over and grabbed a cookie, taking a bite before offering you half, “I love you so much, my girls.”

“We love you too, Steve.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #nurse!steve #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader

854 notes · View notes

theblue6ook · 2 months

Text

The Young Years

Summary: This is a prequel to "Shit Interview" in the “Out of My League” series. Read about Bruce and Y/N as troubled little kids. What about their struggles make them work? (Hint: it's their troubled past.)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Also, that “eventual slow-burn” is for when they are ADULTS, don’t be bringing the kids into this. There is also blood, death, and annoying children in this fic. You've been warned. [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Loss [B(8) Y/N (6)]

They weren't dead immediately.

Bruce stood and watched as his father, proud and tall, rocketed towards the ground. He heard his head crack against the concrete and saw the hole in his chest. He watched his unconscious father choke and gurgle until his chest rattled. One. Last. Time.

He heard his mother scream as one of the bullets ricocheted into her ribs, but his mother... oh, his mother. She fought. Blood poured out of her, hands grasped her neck, and shook off her jewelry; she didn't care. She threw herself onto the sidewalk, wide-eyed and stubborn. Her fingertips dug into the concrete, her nails bled, and she crawled to her son. She choked and spat and crawled. Bruce stood horrified. Eight years old, he stood petrified by the back entrance of the theater.

They weren't dead immediately.

It's a common misconception. It happened so quickly. By the time the theater workers had rushed out to the sound of gunshots, Martha was half delirious. She might as well have been dead. But she wasn't, and Bruce knew that. He would never not know that.

Y/N’s bottom became numb against the hardwood steps. The raised wood was cold- my god- it was so cold, and yet she still wouldn’t move. She couldn’t move. She had to sit, staring at the open screen door. Maybe she’ll come back if I sit here long enough. In her heart, she knew she was wrong. She had just wanted a glass of water; she didn’t mean to catch her mother halfway out the door.

Y/N hadn’t even made it down the stairs when she looked out and saw her mother, luggage in tow, walking out on them. One. Last. Time. She stood on the raised wood stairs, a small hand gripping the handrail, and said nothing. Her mother stood in the open doorway, looking back at her, and said nothing. But the look she gave Y/N… it was clear. She would never see her mother again. But maybe… just maybe, if she sits here long enough, she’ll come back.

Name [B(10) Y/N (8)]

Bruce didn’t want to be here. He didn’t understand why Alfred insisted he continue going to Gotham Academy. For the past two years, after what happened to his parents, he had switched to at-home tutoring. Not that he really felt he needed it. He was breezing through the material. He used knowledge and learning as an escape from his parent's death. Every topic he dominated. Every lesson was child's play. So it didn’t make sense to him why he had to come to school today. Alfred kept telling him, you need to have some normalcy. You need to be with kids your age.

I’m not like kids my age anymore. They can’t relate to me. They can’t understand what I’ve been through. It makes him so frustrated.

As he walks through the hallways, people whisper about him. Is that Bruce Wayne? I didn’t think we’d see him back. Did you see what happened to his parents? It made him sick. It made him angry.

He decided to head to the office. He needed to leave. He can’t do this anymore. The bell rang, perfect timing. The ladies in the office sympathize with him. That’s one thing about having famous dead parents; you get away with anything.

As students were making their way to class, he noticed Bobby White barrel his way through a small girl. Her books went flying. Students filtered out of the hallways, and she just stood there, her hands in little fists. Her knuckles were white.

He could just walk down the hallway and leave her, but it’s like his mother nagged him in the back of his head, be a gentleman, Brucie. So he quietly walked up to her and leaned down to pick up her books.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She whipped around, surprised to see him, and mumbled, “Yeah.”

I should just give her back her books and go home, he thought, looking over at her. She rubbed her eyes and looked embarrassed. Oh no, here was that nagging again, be a gentleman. He glanced down at her books, room 301. Not far from where he was supposed to be right now.

He silently sighed to himself, “It looks like you're going to 301, I have a class in 304. I can take you over there.”

He barely heard it, but she had whispered, “Okay.”

Delicately, he held her hand to guide her down the hallway. He was grateful she didn’t ask for his name. He was even more grateful, it didn’t seem like she knew who he was. I don’t care to learn her name anyway, I’m sick of people talking about mine.

“I think I’ve heard of the L/N family. Is your dad in oil?”

“No… I really don’t think you would. I’m from the west side.”

“Like by Monolith Square?”

Y/N sighed and mumbled, “Like the Narrows.”

“You mean you’re by Crime Alley?!” Why does this keep happening to me?

Who is your family? Where are you from? Would my daddy know yours? This is the fourth conversation today Y/N was getting tired of this.

Two years ago, before her tragic passing, Martha Wayne attended Gotham Public Primary Schools for a fundraiser. She made a huge donation for in-school tutors and offered students in lower-class communities the opportunity to take the Gotham Academy entrance exam; if they qualified, she would pay class fees. Y/N scored so high she ended up getting a full ride. She finished out her last year at Gotham Public and recently transferred. It was a nightmare.

Y/N started getting frustrated. She was rushing to pull the books out of her locker to get out of this horrible conversation. “I don’t know if I would say we’re that close to crime alley-”

“How do you even get to school? Don’t tell me you take the bus!” He giggled until the bell rang. Then, knocked the books out of her hand as he started to run past her. Over his shoulder he shouted, “Got to get to class!”

UGH. She couldn’t even remember his name and she didn’t want to. Y/N thought going to school farther from home would be good. It would get her away from things. It would help ease her thoughts on her mother's disappearing act. Soothe her mind on her father's alcoholism. Give her a break from watching her brothers. It turned out to just be another chore.

“Are you okay?” Y/N turned surprised. She hadn’t even noticed the tears that started to blossom in her eyes or the boy who reached down to pick up her books. He looks older than her, maybe by a couple of grades.

“Yeah,” she sniffled and rubbed her eyes.

He looked down at her books as he tucked them into his left arm. “It looks like you're going to 301, I have a class in 304. I can take you over there.”

“Okay,” she almost whispered it. He took her hand and guided her through the hallways. She never asked for his name, and she never knew who he was, but it didn’t matter. I don’t care to learn his name, I’m tired of having to explain mine.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batfam #batman #batmom #batboys x reader

109 notes · View notes