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#wanna get this wrinkle brain working
classyrbf · 2 months
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SO SOAKED!
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SYNOPSIS...satoru can't help but indulge in his pervy ways of watching you get off while he jerks off to the site of you
INFO...gojo x fem!reader, gojo watching you touch yourself, jerking off, praise, degrading, squirting, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
based on a request from an anon, but I accidentally deleted it while working on it, so here it is!
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Gojo watches from across the room as your pretty moans fill the air of your shared bedroom. He watches intently as you rub your clit, squirming around on the wrinkled duvet below you. He doesn't take his eyes off of you, his hand slowly pumping his cock, the tip flushed red. You've got him so hard, he doesn't think you understand just how much you turn him on.
He loves watching you, always has. Whether you're cooking, cleaning, walking, doing anything, he loves having his eyes on you, and watching you lose control of yourself from pure pleasure was surely a sight to see. He rubs the tip of thumb over the head of his cock as he starts to get eager, moving his hand faster as you moan louder. "That's it, baby. Let me see her, spread those legs." He clenches his jaw and lets out a throaty groan before it falls slack. Your pussy was dripping, soaked. He couldn't help but imagine how it would wrapped around him, sucking him in, milking him. "Ah, fuck, you're so pretty," he moans.
Your hand reaches up to grab at your tits, biting down on your bottom lip as you slipped two fingers inside your dripping entrance, eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Toru," you whine, pumping your fingers in and out at a steady pace, you're cunt creating lewd sounds. He sees how needy you are, he knows you're imagining your fingers were his cock stretching you open, reaching in places that you couldn't. All of you little moans and whines go straight to his dick, making it throb even harder.
"Such a good little slut." He moves his hand at the pace of your fingers, matching your tempo. You flutter your eyes open, a fucked out look on your face, body covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your eyes lock onto his, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Keep looking at me, I wanna see your pretty face when I cum." He chokes back a moan before his head falls back in ecstasy. A small squeal leaves your lips as you massage your g-spot, your hips twitching at the sensation.
That familiar feeling began to build up, your body heating up and heart beating faster than normal. Your eyes clenched shut as you grabbed onto the sheets below you. "Fuck!" You gasp, legs starting to shake. "Oh my god!" You cry out.
"Eyes on me, baby-shit!" His abs began to tense up as he grew closer to his own orgasm and as soon as your eyes land on his, both of you came at the same time. His hips stuttered as hot, thick ropes of cum shot out, landing on his stomach and chest. "Oh, fuck," he groaned.
You let out a small scream as your orgasm made your entire body quiver and brain turn into mush, your pussy gushing everywhere, soaking your hand and the sheets under you. Your legs clenched shut, the feeling too overwhelming, but still so good. Whimpers escaped your lips as you laid there on the bed, trying to catch your breath.
Gojo placed his lips on yours unexpectedly, his large hands cupping each side of your face while he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Both of you moaned into the kiss, enjoying the taste of each other, exchanging breaths. You almost didn't want to stop kissing him, but he pulled away. "You did so good for me. Thank you, sweetheart." He stroked your cheek. "Now let's get in the shower together, yeah?" He placed a kiss to your forehead, but grabbing ahold of you.
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kozachenko · 2 months
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I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help
Artist's Note:
Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.
Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.
And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.
Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.
Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).
I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.
So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol
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theslut4smut · 10 months
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𝘁𝘂𝘁𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀 | 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗺𝗶𝗻
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𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿𝘆: smut
𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: y/n is struggling with learning korean and seungmin is here to help! with some extra motivation 😉
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3.7k
𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: afab reader, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, established relationship, non-idol au, kissing, teasing, slight degradation and hitting, a sprinkle of pussy slap, face and finger fucking, hair pulling, penetrative and unprotected sex
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: anything bolded means that i typed it in english, but the characters say it in korean
i didn’t want to type a full on foreign language since i know that can be a lil intimidating to read and i also feel that it’s disrespectful? of me? since i don’t speak that language? okay! 🩷
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“y/n, i know you can do better than that.” seungmin shakes his head slightly as his brown eyes lock onto yours.
you huff before throwing your head back. “seungmin, i’m just not meant to learn korean. i’ve been trying at it for months now and it’s not sticking.”
you slump further into the comfy sofa the two of you were sitting on as you let out a groan.
“too bad. i’m not letting you give up this easily just because you messed up a few times.” he responds.
“seungmin!” you whine.
“y/n!” he mocks.
you glare at him before rolling your eyes.
“try to remember why you wanted this. what drives you to increase your fluency?”
“i don’t know.” you quickly respond, messing with the fabric of your shorts.
“y/n.” he says firmly.
you groan once more.
“mm...” you bite your lip as you look around the room. “i really wanna have more meaningful and deeper conversations with the guys. like minho or jeongin.”
“there you go.” he says, pointing at you.
“and those shows you watch.” you start, sitting up. “i wanna be able to understand what’s going on instead of just laughing whenever i see you laugh.”
he stifles a laugh.
“it’s not funny!” you say with a faux pout.
“i didn’t say it was funny, y/n. it’s endearing, actually.” he tilts his head to the side. “is that all?”
you feel the warmth of embarrassment cloud the skin of your cheeks as you begin picking at your nails.
“well… i wanna talk to you.” you start, looking at him with slight embarrassment.
he raises his brows. “you’re going to have to further elaborate, y/n.”
he was such an asshole sometimes. he knew exactly what you meant. but you knew he wouldn’t let you get away with having him say it for you.
“i… wanna use it during our… intimate moments.”
you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face as you avoid looking at him.
it’s not like this was a new thing for the two of you. you had been together for awhile now and had explored each other sexually more times than you could count.
there was just something about this that made you feel so shy.
“is that so?” he finally speaks.
you bury your face into one of the pillows next to you as you made an uncomfortable whimper of some sort.
“no, no. look at me.” he reaches over and redirects your gaze back onto him.
you stare up at him bashfully as he held your face firmly in his grasp.
“you know i’d love that for us. having my pretty girl talk dirty to me in a different language? gets me worked about just thinking about it.” he stops to press his forehead against yours. “but how do you expect to be on that level when you can’t even properly introduce yourself?”
you push him off of you, causing him to laugh loudly.
“you’re a dick.” you snap, crossing your arms.
“y/n.” he sighs, sitting up and adjusting the wrinkles your shove left in his shirt. “i’m not trying to be mean. i just want you to do your best. you’re being really insecure about the whole thing and that’s only hindering your progress.”
“it’s hard, seungmin. i can’t get my brain to retain anything.”
it’s silent for a moment as seungmin taps his chin in thought.
“you’re just not motivated enough.” he says.
you glare at him. “did i not just tell you all of the reasons i started this whole language learning bullshit?”
“no, no.” he closes his eyes as he shakes his head. “those are all long term goals. they’re not obtainable until you’ve reached proper fluency, which then leads you to feel discouraged because of how far out of reach they seem.”
you look at him with slight confusion.
“how about this.” he starts, biting the inside of his cheek. “for every answer you get correct, you get a kiss.”
you perk up, a wide smile decorating your face.
he holds a finger up at you, signaling there was more.
you furrow your brows at him.
“i believe that training yourself should require both rewards and punishments.”
oh god.
here he goes again. being a big meanie.
“you’ll get your kiss from me when you get something right, but if you don’t… that’s one item of clothing from me off.” he smirks as he looks into your eyes. “and you have to keep your hands to yourself.”
your jaw drops. “that’s not fair! you know i can’t stand the teasing, seungmin. that’s just gonna distract me even more.”
“you have to learn one way or another.” he shrugs. “and i feel this will be the most effective for you.”
this was just great.
seungmin knew how easy you were. how the littlest thing had you so desperate and needy for him.
he was stubborn too. which meant no getting out of it.
you knew that you better get it together and start saying some correct answers, or else you’d be feeling the pain of deprivation.
“alright, come on. i need you to focus.” seungmin says.
you let out a small and shaky breath as you got into a more comfortable position on the sofa.
“alright, we’re meeting for the first time. how would you introduce yourself to me?” he asks.
you bite your lip as you look around. “formal or informal?”
he smiles as he grabs your face and kisses your lips tenderly. “ah, you get a kiss for that one. i wasn’t even thinking.” you bat your lashes up at him with a sweet smile before he continues. “let’s do formal.”
you clear your throat as you straighten your posture. “um… hello… my name is y/n.”
he chuckles softly before placing his hands on either side of your waist. “baby, you don’t have to be so nervous. it’s just me.”
you close your eyes as you let out a sigh.
“don’t let that discourage you.” he starts, caressing the side of your cheek. “i just want you to relax.”
“okay.” you say.
“why don’t you try that sentence again? this time with more confidence.”
you nod before taking another deep breath.
“hello, my name is y/n.”
he smiles before pecking your nose.
you pout, causing him to furrow his brows. “what?”
“just a nose kiss? at least give me one on my lips!”
he shrugs. “all you did was introduce yourself. nothing too impressive.”
you cross your arms. “some encouraging teacher you are.” you roll your eyes.
seungmin sighs as he shakes his head at your ridiculousness.
“now.” he starts, clearing his throat and adjusting himself on the sofa. “tell me about yourself. how old you are, any hobbies. things like that.”
you bite your nails as you rack through your brain, trying to remember all of the words and vocabulary seungmin had taught you over the last few months.
“um, i’m- i mean, i am… thirty years old.” you give him a small smile, awaiting his response.
he tilts his head to the side. “you’re thirty?”
you gasp, burying your face in your hands. “the numbers are so hard to remember!”
he clicks his tongue before making a tsking sound. “you know what that means.”
seungmin pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the side before leaning back into the sofa.
it’s just his chest. just his olive toned, soft, lovely chest. you feel your heart rate quicken.
he smirks knowingly, cocking an eyebrow. “what do you like to do in your free time?”
you close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. why did you have to be so weak for this man?
“i enjoy baking.” you respond, eyes still squeezed shut.
“oh? what’s your favorite dessert?”
your eyes snap open, looking at your boyfriend. “how am i supposed to know what you’re saying?!”
“how are you supposed to learn if you’re only being asked questions in english? that’s not realistic. you know what i’m saying, y/n. break apart the sentence and figure out the words you know.”
you take a deep breath as you picture what he’s saying, picking out the words that you do recognize until you’ve created a somewhat sentence of your own in your mind.
“[favorite dessert]”
he smirks slightly, nodding his head. “very good.” he places a kiss on your lips. his fingers ghost over your skin as he does, never getting too close.
it left you yearning for more. how could he just kiss you and leave it at that? he surely couldn’t go on for much longer. but you knew kim seungmin; stubborn and aware of his affect on you.
“what are your plans for the day?” he asks.
you glare at him, causing him to laugh softly.
“seungmin-” “what are your plans for the day?”
he gestures for you to speak.
you groan before rolling your eyes. “breaking up with my boyfriend.”
“hey.” he starts, furrowing his brows. “you don’t get to be mean to me in a language you can’t even properly say your age in.”
you sigh and shake your head. this small talk was not going to do it for you.
“have you eaten?”
you whimper softly and involuntarily at the thought of how long this could last, causing his mischievous smirk to widen and dick to twitch.
“how are you feeling today?” he changes the question and gets closer to you, rubbing your inner thighs while gently touching the side of your neck with the tip of his nose. you feel his breath fanning on your collarbone, causing goosebumps to paint the surface of your skin.
you shiver, placing your hand on top of his. “y-you said no touching.”
“i didn’t say anything about me touching you, did i?” he raises his brows at you. you bite your lip, feeling as if you could cry at just how worked up you were.
“now, answer my question.”
you let a shaky breath out. “i’m feeling frustrated.”
“awe, why?” he nibbles at your ear while cooing.
“you’re so mean, minnie.” you say softly, squeezing your legs together as you try to fight the throbbing pain in between.
“let’s set up a little scenario.” he starts, playing with the outline of his dick in his sweatpants, making your mouth water. “you want something really bad. but, you have to ask me for it. how would you say it?”
you let out a whine, quickly getting up from the couch.
seungmin places a firm grip onto your arm and pulls you down. you give him a shove, turning away from him.
he pins both of your hands down before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “you are not giving up. you cried and cried about how much this meant to you and now you’re acting like a brat. how many times am i going to have to put you in your place before you realize that you don’t always get your way with me?”
you begin breathing quickly as your head spins.
he places a hand on your rising chest, looking into your eyes. “beg for it.”
you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a moan slipping out. you look down to see seungmin’s knee firmly pressed against your thinly clothed core and grinding.
you look up to him, panting. he cocks an eyebrow as he waits for your answer.
“i-i need you, p-please.” you swallow and release a shaky and desperate breath. “i need you so bad.”
“oh.” he coos. “would you look at that? struggling to make simple conversation, but you sure know how to beg, don’t you?” he places a firm slap on your thigh, causing you to cry out.
“so nasty and desperate all of the time, aren’t you?” he says, yanking your pajama shorts off.
one less layer made you realize just how wet you were. if only seungmin could be as easy as you were. one look at your swollen and eager sex would have him practically clawing at you. his lips would be on yours while his cock was stuffed inside of you, filling and stretching out your warm walls.
the sting of another slap causes you to snap away from your heavenly thoughts and moan, this time right on your pussy.
“i asked you a question.” he snaps.
you take a moment, truly trying to remember what.
“y-yes, seungmin.” you whine. “so nasty, just for you.”
you lean in to kiss him, only for him to stop you with two single fingers against your lips. you pout.
“what did you do to deserve your kiss?” he looks down at you as he speaks.
“i’ve been good. so, so good.” you grab onto his torso desperately, pulling him closer.
he scoffs before pushing your hands off of him.
“seungmin!” you whine, arching your back as you try to get some relief.
he grabs your face firmly, squishing your cheeks together as he does. “all you do is bitch and complain. why don’t you put that mouth to good use for once?”
before you could say anything, he re-positions you to your knees on the couch, quickly removing both pairs of bottoms he still had on.
you weren’t going to tell him that he was the one who was technically giving in. that he was the one who was giving into you. that you hadn’t gotten enough answers incorrect for him to even fully undress yet.
for once, you got the better of him. he couldn’t control himself over you.
but you couldn’t tell him that he lost. you needed him too bad to risk him realizing his mistake and making you wait even longer.
“stick your tongue out.” he speaks soft, yet firm.
you quickly oblige, putting the wet and soft muscle on full display for him. you bat your pretty lashes up at him, knowing how crazy it drove him.
he slaps his dick on it a couple of times, causing strings of your spit and his pre-cum to stick together. he hisses at the sinful sight.
he sticks his length in and pushes until he hits the back of your throat. you cough, trying to pull away.
“ah.” he holds you by the throat. “this is what you wanted. you don’t get to run from me.”
he teases you by continuing to dip in and out of your warm and soft throat. quick and deep touches to your uvula that causes you to gag before he pulls out again.
“tell me you who belong to.” he orders through gritted teeth.
you let out another gag as he pulls out. “you.” you say breathlessly.
“in korean.” he places his dick in your mouth again, making it to where you only had a few seconds in between to speak.
“i’m yours.” gag. “i belong.” gag. “to you.”
“yes you do.” he inserts himself fully, this time grabbing a handful of your hair before thrusting in and out quickly.
you choke as he fucks your throat at a rapid pace, feeling your slick pooling underneath you.
drool and mascara stain your oversized top as he continues his movements.
he rubs his palm over you throat, loving the feeling of his bulge through the skin.
you lose yourself to the feeling of slight oxygen restriction, the way he twitched and throbbed in your mouth, his strong grip on your face. there was no better feeling than being dominated by seungmin.
the trance like state you were in had you completely unaware that he was no longer in your mouth and that you were now lying on your back.
he quickly puts the both of you into the spooning position before lifting the leg of yours closest to him and running his two middle fingers up and down your drenched slit.
“m-minnie.” you say, eyes rolling back.
“should i give you the satisfaction?” he asks, teasingly. “you really didn’t work that hard today.”
you begin to bable incoherent words, far past the point of understanding and clearly deep in subspace.
he finally fulfills your craving as he leans down and captures your lips into a deep and passionate kiss.
you moan into his mouth.
his two digits make their way inside of your needy cunt, causing you to break the kiss as you sing in ecstasy.
there’s no preparation or warming up as he immediately pumps his fingers in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sound of your squelching heat.
it reminds you of how shy you used to be with seungmin. how he had to create this slut that you’ve become. he likes to say it’s always been there and that he just brought it out of you, but it didn’t matter anymore.
this state of vulnerability would have your past self red in the face and full of embarrassment. the way you obey every command he has, fulfill any of his wishes, let him control you both mentally and physically.
it made you so hot for him.
you squeal as you feel the intense build up of an orgasm, grabbing onto his forearm as a way to ground yourself.
he removes his fingers and stands on his knees.
“n-no! minnie, minnie!” you claw at his arms, too desperate to notice that he’s actually just moving you onto your tummy.
he laughs like the little shit he is as he takes in your fucked out state all caused by him. he loves it too much.
he arches your back before lifting your ass up to him, rubbing the tip of his dick at your entrance.
you mindlessly grind against him, your eyes closed as you try to focus on your own pleasure.
“awe.” he coos, stroking your sweaty and tangled locks. “so needy. impatient.” he yanks a fistful of hair, causing your head to jerk back.
you moan loudly.
“you think you can fuck yourself the way i do? go ahead. show me.”
you whine like a bitch in heat before inserting his long length into you, sloppily circling your hips.
he laughs and shakes his head at your cute yet poor attempt to satisfy yourself.
he knew that he ruined you a long time ago. your vibrator would never be his tongue, your fingers would never be his, those flimsy and lifeless dildos would never hit every spot inside of you the way his dick did.
but it was adorable to watch you try.
"it's not easy, is it?" he asks.
“no.” you cry, genuine tears slipping past your lashline, making your cheeks a sticky and pink mess.
“i know it’s not, baby.” he says softly, placing his hands on your hips. “you require a lot to please. not just anyone can do it. not even you.”
you feel a shiver run up your spine at his words.
“why don’t you thank me, huh?” he wipes your pitiful tears before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. “thank me for always being able to take care of you. being so good to you.”
“in korean?” you ask, grinding harder on his length.
“there you go. already catching on. so much smarter than you lead everyone to believe.” he massages the skin of your hips roughly, causing you to squeeze and contract on his cock.
“t-thank you so much. for always taking care of me. and treating me good.”
“good girl.” he whispers as he slowly begins to thrust in and out.
the feeling causes your mind to go blank as you take in the addictive sensation of his length brushing past every surface of your sensitive walls.
“keep going.”
“thank you for being so amazing. so handsome and smart. you’re- you’re the greatest i could ever have.”
you gasp as he snaps his hips into you, beginning his intense pounding as he grabs onto your hair once again.
“ah! y-yes, seungmin!” you cry out, grabbing onto the hand of his that was pressed into the couch.
all of his prior teasing made it to where you knew you weren’t going to last another second of him inside of you. he had just started, but you already felt your previously denied orgasm making a much stronger comeback.
“m-min, i’m gonna cum!” you scream, digging your nails into his skin.
“what do you say when you want something?” he responds breathlessly, feeling his peak approaching as well.
“please! please, please, please!”
he feels himself throb at you remembering to use korean without him asking.
“fuck, cum.” he demands.
stars cloud your vision as you release onto his hard cock, the screams and cries falling from your lips most likely being heard from planets away.
he spills inside of you with a groan, gently fucking you through your orgasm and allowing you to come back down.
you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“oh my god.” you say softly, closing your eyes as you exhale.
he flips you onto your back before cuddling up with you, peppering your face with kisses.
seungmin giggles against your skin. “that was pretty good, huh?”
you playfully glare at him.
“you know.” he starts, placing his chin on your chest as he looks up to you with his cute puppy eyes. “you sure knew a lot of what to say. i think you’re better than you give yourself credit for.”
“or maybe i’ve just studied things to say when you’re fucking me instead of the basics like i should be.” you respond with a smile.
he rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
he places a kiss onto your lips. this one different from the rest. soft and filled with love. you smile onto his lips.
“you really are more capable than you think. you just need to apply yourself more. i’m serious about not letting you give up.” he points at you, raising his brows.
“yeah, yeah. i know.” you lay his head back down. “korean lessons are over for the day. now it’s cuddle time.”
“same time tomorrow, though.” he says.
you cover his face with a pillow.
“i’m serious!” his muffled voice yells.
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sundrop-writes · 1 month
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hiya! Might be a bit broad of a request but could I get headcanons with jj x autistic female reader ?
Broad in the sense if I could get hcs of her reacting to reader with autism, how she helps reader with overstimulation and struggling with social cues and noise. If you wanna throw in smut hcs (jj being the dom) i’m also fine with that!
Basically anything with jj and autistic female reader, thanks!
I love this request so much!!! If you want smut/smutty hcs with JJ and autistic reader, definitely feel free to send in a separate request - I will come back for that in another post. For now, I hope you enjoy this!!
Requests are currently - OPEN.
Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader (Headcanons)
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(Warnings: typical CM themes, the reader is described as touch avoidant (with some exceptions); mentions of molestation and murder (related to a case, mentioned in passing); mentions of blood, mentions of someone being shot in the reader's presence. Idk, I don't think there's anything else. Not proofread.)
JJ was raised around everything (neuro)typical, so when she meets you, she doesn't quite get you. Not at first.
You are one of the smartest people on the team - that is why you're there. Your ability to pick up on patterns and bits of detail that others don't see is incredible, and your brain holds mass amounts of obscure information that she could never even dream of knowing.
But you are quirky. More than quirky.
You have difficulty making eye contact, you freak out if someone even motions toward touching you unexpectedly, you have very odd, specific little rituals with your snacks and meals (which JJ does come to find endearing over time) - you go from talking at incredibly fast speeds, blabbering out information to being silent and stoic for long periods of time.
When she finds out that you have autism, she is a bit surprised. She is one of those people who thinks that autism is a disorder related to school aged boys - but you explain to her how it affects your life. How it makes it difficult for you to relate to people, form close friendships, how it's difficult for you to focus on larger 'important' things when smaller details are bothering you.
(It's one of the reasons you're so good at your job - but it also makes it hard to focus on people's words if their shirt is wrinkled and it's distracting you.)
You act cold toward most people on the team, and it's one random day that JJ finally starts to figure you out. A day that you finally warm up to her.
You were helping Morgan escort a suspect out of the police station, to a squad car where he would be driven to jail to be processed. He had confessed to molesting and killing eight boys after being caught with a ninth, and when the father of one of the boys heard the BAU had arrested someone, he came to the police station with a gun.
When the suspect was shot, you were covered in his blood, and in horrible shock from hearing such a loud bang right beside your ear - from feeling the sudden dead weight drop in your arms.
You ran back into the station screaming, and JJ followed her instinct - followed you into the women's washroom, wanting to see if you had been hurt. She was surprised to see you pacing back and forth in front of the sinks, muttering something under your breath.
"L/N." She called out your name, trying to get your attention. "Y/N? Y/N? Hey? Are you hurt?"
You didn't look up, not for a second. But your muttering became louder. And it became more clear what you were saying.
"My pen, my pen, I dropped my pen..."
JJ had no clue why you were so concerned about a pen when you were covered in someone else's blood, your ears likely still ringing from the gunshot - but she knew that you had a pen-clicking habit. It was something that often annoyed Reid and Morgan - but from what she had observed, you did your best work when your thumb was twiddling, clicking the end of your pen insistently. It meant your brain was whirring hard, putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
JJ reached into the breast pocket of her blazer, and took out a pen that clicked on the end.
"Here." She offered it out to you. "You - you can borrow my pen." She said shyly, hoping it would help you calm down.
You extended out a shaking hand, and took the pen, and then began to click it harshly with your thumb. You gripped it so furiously, the skin around your knuckles so tight - but after a moment, you let out a tight breath. And then, for the first time since she had known you - you looked JJ in the eye.
"Thank you." You murmured, your voice ripe with tears.
"Keep the pen." JJ told you, feeling like it was a small consolation if it helped you calm down this much.
You reached up, petting a shaking hand over your face, and pulled back in disgust when you felt the sticky blood.
"Let me help you clean up." JJ said, grabbing some paper towels out of the dispenser and wetting them in the sink.
It was the first time you had ever let her touch you - you clicked the pen the whole time, and from then on, that sound became less of an annoyance and more of a comfort to her.
That was the day she realised one incredibly important thing:
To you, small things matter on such a big scale.
Coffee in your favourite mug instead of a random one she found in the back of the cupboard - that gets a smile out of you. Scones with blueberries instead of raisins - raisins get a shrug at best, blueberries get a giggle and a big 'thank you!'. Organising your files in alphabetical order instead of by date.
You and JJ became close after that day.
She wasn't a profiler, not in training, but she learned to read you like a book.
She knew that you bouncing your knee aggressively meant that you were becoming overstimulated - things in the room too loud, the florescents too bright, the day too overwhelming.
When this happened, she would take you outside for a break - often siting that she herself needed some air and she simply wanted your company. She knew you didn't like to be outwardly babied (who does?), but she also knew that you had a hard time self regulating. You had a hard time deciding when to take yourself out for a break, and if you didn't have one, then you would become irritable, have a hard time focusing, and hardly get any work done.
She also picked up on the fact that you just plain didn't get sarcasm.
Before, she thought you were being cool, or aloof. When someone said something sarcastic and you didn't understand, she thought that you were pretending not to get it in order to snub them or make a joke out of the whole thing.
But during one of your many conversations, you told her that you absolutely didn't understand sarcasm - you didn't get when someone was using a sarcastic tone, and you often took everything people said in its most literal interpretation.
So you and JJ developed a wonderful, silent system - if someone said something and you didn't understand if it was sarcasm right off the bat, you looked to her, and she would nod at you if they were being sarcastic, or shake her head if they were being literal. It was something people on the team picked up on, but nobody said anything about it - they just enjoyed the way you bonded with her, and how your quirky habits were spreading like a delightful little plague.
JJ knew that your life wasn't easy, living with autism, but she always tried to make it a bit easier. Because you were worth it.
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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miggiisdumb · 4 months
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The big fat tears in my eyes couldn't stop from seeing this through
cw: mentions of pregnancy, slightly toxic ex sukuna but he's doing better okay
At some point Sukuna gets married.
Not out of love. Keeping up appearances is everything in his line of work, so having some eye candy on his arm would definitely rake the other half backed lawyers with envy of his success in every aspect.
The woman he married is a model or influencer, someone who’s drop dead gorgeous because she’s nothing going on in her brain otherwise- but just enough to realize that Sukuna is a prick and divorced him a few months later.
During that short lived marriage, however, she got pregnant and insisted it was his. He doesn’t doubt it, but wished she hadn’t decided to keep it because now he has take responsibility of the child too. He had the means to cover it up if he didn’t, of course, it’d just be one big hassle to keep her blabber mouth shut as to not fuck up his reputation. Signing his name as the legal father was simply easier, he’d just throw whatever money is needed for child support to his stupid ex wife and never see her or the brat ever again
So nine months later, the kid is born. A girl.
Unfortunately for him, he had to be the one at registration instead of his assistant who he ordered to get things done. Sukuna arrives at the registration center pristine and annoyed, in need of another cigarette. His ex is already there, yapping away on her phone, and the baby is abandoned in her overly expensive white and pink stroller. Before they’re called in, he takes what might as well be the last look he get of the baby, frowing at the squirming little thing.
Wisps of dusty pink hair- undoubtedly his-peek from under her small beanie, her face is chubby and round like dough, too young to have any remarkable features that matched either parent, so tiny and nearly drowned in the blankets around her, quite literally nothing to him and yet…. Sukuna’s mind blanks.
“If I ever have kids, I’d like to have a girl.” You say into the cool night air, seated on the hill side that you and Sukuna always went to, the one that sits higher than the city below and all the twinkling and moving lights don’t feel so real, like watching a movie.
“Not with you, of course,” you giggle because Sukuna never wanted kids, but this still offended him a little. “But if I have a girl I wanna spend so much time with her. I’ll play and watch movies with her instead of glueing her to a tablet, teach her how to bake, go berry picking or camping in the woods, maybe give her a puppy if she’s really responsible at taking care of her goldfish. I want to be kinder and understanding in moments my mom wasn’t with me, I want to raise her with all the love I had growing up. I want her to know she’ll always be loved, no matter what.”
You’re lost in the stars for a moment, then blink back to earth and to Sukuna just staring at you, unusually quiet and impartial.
You smile, awkward twist in the corners of it. “Sorry sorry. I was rambling again.”
He just shrugs and takes his turn staring at the stars and wonders why having a kid sounds so whimsical to you. “That’s one hell of a bar you’re setting for yourself. Think you’ll be able to do all that?”
The weight of your head sits on his shoulder, something that’ll become unfamiliar to him a few months later, as you hum in thought.
“Guess I’ll find out when the time comes. We gotta get jobs and buy a house first.”
A brow lifts. “Thought you didn’t wanna have any brats with me.”
You look at each other when you lift your head and hug his arm, your smile cheekier, nose wrinkled up.
“Maybe I lied.” You tease.
Sukuna hasn’t thought of you in forever. Not like this, with no relevance to this child that isn’t even yours. He was somewhere else during the whole paperwork until it was slid over to him for his signature on the baby’s birth certificate.
Unlike him, you were probably happily married. It’s hard to picture that you’re not. Sukuna wasn’t possessive of you for no reason, you turned heads even when they knew he’d beat them black and blue. So you probably didn’t have a hard time finding a guy who’s not as violent and controlling as him, who doesn't treat you rough or eat you whole. Settled down with the fucker and have that baby girl you wanted so much on the way, or even already in the world singing along to the kids movie with you.
Those thoughts made his name a little harder to read on the birth certificate. Sukuna never felt like himself when he thinks of you too much- or rather, feels more like the way he did way back then except the years made him stop blaming the breakup on you. Selfish in the way he wanted your mind and body for himself and that was pretty much all there was. He couldn’t have given you everything you wanted even if things did work out, he finally admits to himself. Couldn’t make promises he wouldn’t keep nor had any intentions of keeping. And yet he still lashed out on everything when it all ended because you were ungrateful, you were a spoiled, with all the importance he gave only to you- you left him.
He looks once more at the stroller, chest aching in ways he hated feeling. He couldn’t promise anything to this baby- his daughter- either. He’s a lawyer and he’s always busy and he hates kids.
He still agreed to stay with the kid over the weekends, to even his ex’s astonishment.
And Sukuna’s life with his daughter started then. Very new and awkward and sleepless the first few months. He didn’t really know why he was putting up with all this but couldn’t stop either. At the very least his daughter is starting to resemble him more and he got a kick out of his ex complaining about it.
The mother of his child couldn’t let go of her social party life weekends turned into weeks, weeks turned into months where she's the one taking the baby on the weekends at best- until the baby just lived with him officially. A dui scandal from his ex eventually gave him full custody too.
The penthouse bachelor pad slowly and surely got more vibrant with toys and and crayons and picture/coloring books, with foam pads in some corners and little stepping stools in the kitchen and bathroom and one of the spare rooms turned into his daughter's personal wonderland of a bedroom.
As much as he'd deny it to anyone else, Sukuna is found of his little brat. She grows on him when the crying phase ends rather quickly, and by the time she can babble and make her way everywhere on her own, she clings to her father's legs and just squeals at him demanding to be left alone. He cooks for her when she can have solids, a real stickler for healthy meals and snacks because junk food disgusts him.
He teaches her own to bake when she gets a little taller to reach the countertop, not as passionate as you'd be about it, but he still does it. He watches kids movies with her, bored and nearly sleeping during most of them but he still does it. He let's her crawl into his bed when she has nightmares, in the dead of night and grouchy from being shaken awake by her tiny little hands and dreading the sound of his alarm ringing in a few hours, but he lets her small frame curl into his side and covers up to her chin, telling her monsters aren't real and they'd never stand a chance against him anyway.
He's not one to atone, he's not one to apologize (though he tried, if the undelivered letter he had written for you in the heat of the moment meant anything) but he's not one to turn tail and run. At least not anymore. His daughter needed him now and he has to be there for her, chooses to be there, for the moments he wasn't for the last girl that wiggled her way into his heart. "Sukuna's girl" is now the artist of the comically large and swiggly drawing of him and her pinned on the fridge, along with every other craft and memory he begins to store more considerately. Because he's not the best at loving but still tries to emulate what bits of gentleness he learned from you.
And maybe, if life had a funny way of flowing, his daughter will grow up kind enough to be friends with your daughter if they ever went to the same school.
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toomuchracket · 1 year
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i'll do anything that you wanna
(hi! sweet @brownduck and a lovely anon sent in prompts to inspire this loooooong pre-relationship flatmate!matty moment. references to 10 Things I Hate About You (if you haven't seen it, go! watch it!). enjoy!)
flatmate!matty watching girlie wistfully sigh at some cute romantic thing in a show/film she's watching and now he's determined to do that for her. This could either be right before or right after they get together
Being super normal abt the idea of movie nights with flatmate matty, maybe this instance like riiight before you two get together 💔 cuddling up together bc that’s like, a totally normal thing that friends do, him nodding off onto your shoulder or vice versa……….
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matty knocks softly on your-half open bedroom door, nudging it fully open with his foot when he hears your soft "come in!". he tries to ignore the little pang of tenderness that appears in his heart when you smile at him standing in your doorway; instead, he focuses on addressing the laptop open on your knee, its artificial light illuminating your pretty face. "sorry, darlin', didn't realise you were still working. i'll leave you be."
he makes to exit, but is stopped by your sudden protests. "no, no, i'm finished for today," you say, closing the lid and lifting the computer from your shorts-clad lap. you stretch languidly, and matty's brain shuts down for a second as your cropped t-shirt rides up and exposes the bare underside of your boob. "what's up?"
once he's regained control of his brain, matty shrugs. he swears he sees your eyes flick down to quickly gaze at his bare chest, brought to prominence by the movement, but he's probably just projecting. "just wondered if you wanted to hang out, s'all. haven't really seen you much this week. missed you."
your face lights up as you beam at him. you pat the space beside you on your bed, signalling for matty to sit next to you. at first, he's quite grateful for the seat, because his knees went weak at the radiance of your smile, but then it hits him when he plonks down next to you; he's half naked in your bed, breathing in the scent of your perfume and shampoo, next to an almost as half-naked you, lying on your side and smiling at him through your eyelashes.
fuck. he's so fucked.
you shift up to a sitting position and - almost tentatively - reach across to boop matty on the nose. he wrinkles it in response, trying his best to deflect how adorable he found it, which makes you giggle and reposition his glasses for him. "you know, healy," you begin, teasingly. "for a supercool edgy rockstar, you're very cute sometimes, wanting to hang out with little old me late on a friday night."
matty can feel his cheeks go crimson, and bites his lip to stop from - what? smiling? groaning at how cute you are? kissing you there and then? he's not sure. "oi, less of the teasing. i'm trying to be nice."
"sorry. you're very sweet," you say, snuggling into his side so naturally that matty thinks he might pass out. "and i missed you too. was gonna put a film on, if you want to watch it with me."
matty experimentally leans his head to rest on your own; when you don't protest, he speaks. "that sounds nice. what film? don't say fucking twilight, i can't sit through that shite again."
"shut up, it's a masterpiece," you say indignantly, peeling yourself away from matty to rifle through the pile of dvds in the corner of your room. as much as your closeness fucks matty up, another pang in his heart appears as soon as you move from him; loss, longing, loneliness. jesus christ, he needs to get a grip. "oh! here, surely you like this one."
matty crawls forward to read the title, not noticing the way your thighs clench together at his lithe movement. "10 things i hate about you? i don't think i've ever seen it."
"WHAT?!" you press the dvd to your chest in what matty thinks might actually be genuine shock. "how have you never seen it? you've had girlfriends."
"what's that got to do with anything?"
you sigh, climbing back onto the bed and sitting on your knees in front of matty, who moves to sit on his hands so he physically cannot rest them on your almost-bare thighs as he so badly wants to. "it's a rite of passage for any girl to watch this with her boyfriend in the first few weeks of dating."
"wh-"
"don't ask me why, it just is," you begin, sighing. "but seeing as you've gotten to your big age without being shown it by the multitudes of girls who've tried and failed to cuff you..."
matty raises his eyebrows at that, but he can't exactly deny it.
"... i guess i'll have to do it." you roll your eyes dramatically, but smile that radiant smile again afterwards. "you cool with that, healy? pretending i'm your girlfriend for the 90 minutes it takes to watch this film?"
matty thinks about what he could say here. why pretend? let's make it official. i probably imagine you're my girlfriend for at least triple the amount of time it would take to watch the film every day of my life, anyway. but he doesn't. he won't. matty's so in love with you that he'd marry you tomorrow, but the thought of telling you that and you not feeling the same (which is bloody likely) terrifies him. it hurts like fuck repressing his feelings for you all the time, especially when there's reminders of you all over the flat you share - your trainers lying haphazardly by the door, your books on every flat surface available, your shampoo next to his in the shower caddy, your perfume wafting through every room and getting him higher than any drug he's ever been on - but he'd rather keep both quiet and you in his life than fuck up the dynamic and lose you forever.
so matty plays it cool. nonchalant. he shrugs, keeps his tone light, neutral facial expression. "sounds alright to me."
your smile dims a little. fuck, was he too cool with it? did he lapse into disdain? maybe - your tone is cooler when you reply with an "okay". thankfully, though, it brightens. "but that's not an excuse for you to do the old putting-the-arm-around-me-to-squeeze-my-tit move," you say, with a look so mischievous it borders on flirty.
the panging in matty's heart is replaced by fluttering - god, what he wouldn't give to have you look at him like that all the time. desperate to keep it going, he retorts with an equally mischievous phrase, pointedly ignoring the slight agony of how easily flirting with you comes to him. "fuck's sake, what's even the point of me agreeing to this then?"
your cheeks tint pink. fuck. scratch what he said about the flirty look - that's what matty wants to make you look like all the time, flustered by his affection. before he can make a cheesy joke about him really taking the boyfriend role seriously in making you blush, you respond with a statement that genuinely leaves him dumbstruck. "fine, we'll compromise: you can sit between my legs and use my tits as a headrest, okay?"
there's not even a hint of humour or sarcasm or irony in your voice. matty blinks a few times before he regains the power of speech. "you being serious?"
an earnest nod. "what kind of girlfriend would i be if i didn't let you snuggle up to me like that?"
jesus h. fucking christ alive. this might genuinely kill matty off, but why wouldn't he take such a golden opportunity? if he dies, he dies with his head on your tits - arguably a perfect way to go. "fair point, babe. alright. get the film on, then."
you hop up from the bed and run to your tv (matty tries not to focus on the way your bum jiggles in those illegally-tiny shorts you're wearing, and fails miserably). as you faff around with the dvd player, you call back to him. "there's wine under your side of the bed if you want any."
smiling to himself at the way you said "your side of the bed" so casually, matty reaches down and grabs a slightly dusty bottle of red. "fuck me, this is good shit! no wonder you've been stashing it in here, babe. are you sure you want to drink it now?"
"might as well, if we're on a date," you say with a wink, walking back to the bed and settling onto it. after wiggling around to find the best sitting angle against the headboard, you gesture to the space between your open legs. "get in, then."
"dirty," matty quips, but does as he's told, climbing between your legs and leaning back against you. a flush of contentment passes through him as he does; the two of you seem to fit together seamlessly, laser cut puzzle pieces made with the sole purpose of connecting together. "ooh, they really are comfy!"
that earns him a flick to the stomach, but you don't berate him (unbeknownst to him, because you like the feeling of him resting his head there). "ready to start watching?"
"sure, babe."
you tap the remote to start the film, matty opens the wine, and fake date night begins. you both manage to watch the film in comfortable silence - albeit interspersed with the odd chuckle, and a melancholy "oh, heath" from matty when patrick first appears onscreen - until kat is shown intently reading the bell jar, at which point matty cackles. "oh my god, she's you!"
"can't even argue with you," you giggle, taking the wine from him and taking a swig. "but shush, babe, keep watching."
how can matty be expected focus on the film, though, when you're there right next to him, all sparkling eyes and smiling lips and cheeks flushed from the booze? he makes an effort to watch it, though, because it clearly makes you happy - that, and he's actually quite enjoying it. but his eyes continue to flick to you, too, heart fluttering slightly faster every time he does.
more of the film passes, the two of you sharing wine and chatting quietly and laughing throughout. suddenly, though, you gasp and put your arms around matty, who puts his hand on your thigh comfortingly as an immediate response. he screams internally when he realises he's probably crossed the acceptable intimacy line by several hundred miles in doing that, but keeps his hand there when you don't respond, too hooked on the onscreen action to bother. "okay, we have to actually shut up now - this is the best scene in the film."
matty squints at the frankie valli song playing in the background, then at heath ledger holding a mic. "surely he isn't-"
"oh, he is." you readjust matty's head on your chest to lean forward as best you can, eyes unblinkingly focused on the screen. matty turns his gaze sideways onto your face, which settles into a dreamy expression as you wistfully sigh at patrick serenading kat. the previously-unseen longing in your eyes is crystal clear, even in the dim lamplight of your bedroom.
oh. oh.
matty fights to suppress the grin spreading itself on his face as the realisation hits him.
you find being sung to romantic.
this is good. great, even. some would say perfect, ideal, serendipitous. the very thing matty does for a living is the thing - well, at least something - that you want to be wooed by. what a fucking wonderful turn of events.
the rest of the film passes by in a blur. matty watches it, oohing and ahhing a beat after you do, but doesn't really take anything in. his brain is too preoccupied with going through the (extensive) list of love songs he knows and could sing for you - ones he's written (about you), ones he loves (because they remind him of you), ones he knows you love. so preoccupied is matty, in fact, that he doesn't realise he's now resorted to tracing patterns into your thigh with his index finger, nor that you're actively enjoying him doing so. it's only when the credits begin to roll that matty snaps out of his daydreams about singing to you, and even then it's largely due to you (reluctantly) manoeuvering his body off of your own so you can get up to turn the tv off.
once the dvd is back in its case, you turn to matty, hands on hips, adorably blinking the tiredness from your eyes. he notices, with a flush of something like satisfaction, that your t-shirt is all crinkled over your chest where his head has been. "so," you start. "how'd you find it?"
"good, yeah. interesting," matty replies, watching you as you climb back onto your bed and burrow under the duvet. he isn't lying. "that scene where heath was singing to her... that was definitely my favourite." again, not a lie.
"get under the covers, you're freezing- yeah, that's my favourite scene, too," you say, lifting the duvet up so matty can awkwardly slide under it with you. his heart flutters again as you yawn cutely, a fluttering which increases to a rave-level bass thumping when you wriggle close to him and lay your head on his chest, draping an arm across his stomach. the agreed 90 minutes of pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend is definitely over, but there's no way matty's going to protest you cuddling him for longer, not when it feels so right. "s'romantic."
"d'you think you'd like it if someone sang to you, darlin?" matty asks - it's a bit of a loaded question, but your sleepiness means you'll give an honest answer that you probably won't remember giving at all.
"mhmm", you say, clutching matty tightly as you drift off to sleep. "maybe you could..."
you're fast asleep before you can finish the sentence. matty just looks at you tenderly, his love for you practically radiating off him, and gently sweeps a stray strand of hair from your cheek. emboldened by the wine and affection, he kisses your forehead - a feather-light brush of lips against skin - before settling down to sleep himself.
sharing a bed for a night crosses the acceptable intimacy line so far it's practically on another continent, but matty couldn't care less right now. "yeah, angel, i could. i can," he whispers into your hair. "and i will, soon. i promise."
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semiweirdshipper · 6 months
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Altering Wesker's personality to make him an emotional supporter.
Usually I write this process on paper when I need to work on a slashers personality, but I wanted to share it with you guys so you could get an idea on how I turn the bad guys into emotional supporters.
So when it comes to working on the slashers' personalities, I always try to find a way to make them each more kind, sympathetic, supportive and likable while still somewhat staying true to their unique personality traits. Normally this process comes easy. I've never really struggled much with altering a slashers personality....
Until prince blondy bitch came into the picture that is.
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Yes, this rip-off Corey Hart makes me wanna hit the snooze button in my brain every time I think about him. He's just so DIFFICULT and his personality is extremely unattractive to me. But I have him put down for future roles in billions of my fics and drabbles, so mentally I can't ignore him. I've gotta work on his personality and turn him into a proper emotional supporter.
Let's break down those traits, shall we?
Prince blondy is-
- narcissistic
- controlling
- manipulative
- dishonest
- powerful
- sadistic
- cunning
- polite only when he wants to be or if he's trying to manipulate someone
- disloyal
- teases and taunts people.
- gets jealous and loses his temper.
- gets bored of his friends and romantic partners
- views most people as insignificant and lesser than him.
- backstabbing attitude
- merciless
- gets bored easily and abandons people and/or projects.
- rude.
- does not value people for who they are but rather the benefits they can provide him with. Once someone is no longer valuable to him, he either runs away or kills them.
Yeah.... He's a real tough one. There's not a lot of positivity going on with this one. He's got every unattractive trait from A to Z. Imagining him as a supporter is like trying to walk on needles.
So what do I do during hard times like these? I make the positivity myself. I alter his bitch traits and give him some positive ones.
Altered Wesker
- Let's make him narcissistic still but with the ability to accept competition and rivalry without getting jealous or murderous.
- let's make him honest. Brutal honesty or keeping his mouth shut is better than lying.
- He hates unfinished business and will not abandon anyone or anything without explaining himself first.
- he can be manipulative but only during serious situations.
- He owns up to his failures, mistakes and misunderstandings. (There's nothing more attractive than a person who can admit they're wrong).
- he is still very intelligent, strong and powerful.
- He's still obsessed with uroboros and will murder, but he's more empathetic and less sadistic. He won't murder people he cares about.
- uses his honesty to defend his loyalty.
- has a high standard for people he considers worthy of his time. These worthy people will receive his kindness, consideration and attention.
- Likes independence, trust and dependability. These are traits he seeks in a partner.
- still egotistical and holds himself in high regard.
That's just some of the traits I'm giving him to make him more supportive. Now for a little bit of writing. Albert Wesker x reader headcanons. These help me get an even deeper understanding of his personality.
Original/unaltered: Wesker x reader.
Wesker enters the breakroom and notices you sitting at a table. You looked horrible; your hair messy, your eyes dark and your outfit wrinkled. What a ghastly sight for him to walk in on. You should do a better job keeping yourself in proper shape.
Focused on ignoring you, Wesker made his way to the coffee machine on the other side of the room. His brow twitched in frustration at the sound of your pitiful "morning sir". Of course he couldn't go without drawing your worthless attention.
"(y/n)," He answered flatly, his back facing you, "Don't you have morning patrol?"
"Leon switched me," You answered, "I had a really long night last night. It was rough..."
"Excuses, excuses," Wesker glared at the bitter taste of his coffee. Why couldn't things just be the way he wanted them to be? "Allowing your personal life to get in the way of your job is insubstantial. Do better next time."
You remained silent, soon finishing your beverage and rising up to leave.
Wesker didn't notice nor did he care.
Altered/my version: Wesker x reader. (same situation)
Wesker entered the breakroom and immediately noticed you sitting in your lonesome at a table. You looked exhausted and unkempt, the expression on your face tired and miserable. Hm, he wondered what was wrong. Normally you were well dressed and always upbeat.
"(y/n)," He addressed as he slowly walked past you, turning his head to meet your eyes.
Despite your situation, you still managed a smile at him, your body lifting and your voice kind, "Oh, morning sir. How're you doing today?"
He always respected how considerate and proper you were even during difficult times. "I'm doing well. And you?" He continued to give glances to you as he fixed himself some coffee.
"I'm fine," You say softly, "Just a rough night."
Ah, so it was something personal most likely. "I see you swapped positions with Kennedy. I'd rather not have short notices like this in the future. After you're finished here, meet me in my office and we will discuss what you are going through."
You smiled weakly and blushed. Wesker always knew when something was wrong, and he was always so quick to provide any care he possibly could. He really was a good boss.
That morning, Wesker sat with you in the breakroom.
Aaaannnnnndddd.... Emotional support slasher born. BOOM!
The reason why I have so much trouble writing prince blondy is because I really don't like him. His personality is like a smelly trashcan to me and if I ever met him in real life I'd kick him in the balls so hard his motherless grandkids would feel it. But creating these writing templates helps me to view him underneath a different light. It's how I build personalities and familiarize them.
I've done this process on paper for multiple killers. I just thought it would be fun to share with you how I altered personalities to write my stories.
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alienstardust · 6 months
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* i just wanna keep callin' your name / until you come back home ( jaime reyes/blue beetle x gn!reader )
♫ “I DON'T WANNA LIVE FOREVER” HALOCENE  
Fic Request: Would you consider writing a Jaime Reyes x Reader imagine where Jaimes partner has chronic pain that’s triggered by standing and a job (like a server or hostess) where they have to be on their feet for hours and Khaji Da constantly spams Jaime with messages of like “your mate/partner is stressed, in pain, overwhelmed etc.” So even though he worries about them a lot and the reminders make him feel awful he’s learned to ignore Khaji Da. But then there’s a day where his partner actually needs him and he doesn’t know until they call him from work begging him to pick them up, maybe their shift went long or they forgot painkillers but they’re in a lot of pain so he rushes there and takes them home and just takes care of them. With painkillers, heating pads, a foot massage, and lots of cuddles. (Fem or gender neutral reader please) - Anonymous
A/N: Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle imagine. I'm so sorry this request took me longer than I wanted. My brain kept getting distracted. Until I heard this song... and went to work! I really hope I was able to capture your request. <333!!! Feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for all the reads! ♥ [Warnings: None just sweet Jaime]
It was Friday night which meant a busy shift at the diner. Dozens of rowdy customers came bustling through the doors, covered in their football team colors. You exhaled trying to warm yourself up to take this one. You watched them as they zigzagged their way into the empty booths and tables. You already knew this was going to be a headache.
The crowds were loudly recalling their favorite moments from the game. You leaned against the counter and exchanged a glance with your coworker. “Let’s take a quick break before we take on this war,” they suggested with a light smirk. “Taking a quick ten, boss!”
You snorted a laugh, then allowed them to guide you outside. “Hurry back!” You heard your manager call out. You waved your hand and then headed out the side entrance. 
You breathed in the night air, stretched out your arms above your head, then let them dangle. It was going to be a long night as if you didn’t already have a long shift. You decided to pick up extras when people were calling in. Your body was already feeling drained. You knew you couldn’t walk out and leave your friend high and dry not during the busiest time. 
Jaime strolled down the alleyway, with his hands in his pockets. You smiled weakly at him. “About time you got here,” your friend nudged Jaime and raised their eyebrows. “Your other half needs you. Words of encouragement.” They pressed their foot against his knee to get him to move faster.
“Ow! Jeez. I’m here.” Jaime made a face at your friend and walked over to you. He opened his arms bringing you closer to him. He kissed your temple. “You good?” He quietly asked.
“Yeah. I think,” you exhaled while you pressed your forehead against his collarbone. 
“Jaime. Your partner is beginning to feel overwhelmed.” 
Jaime often received advice from Khaji about your diagnosis. In the beginning, he would play twenty questions with you to make the mental list to make certain you were okay. Even when you answered him, he still continued his pop quiz. When you started telling him you were fine and took your medication, he started to lay off. He didn’t take in what Khaji said. He trusted you. 
“I think I needed to just see you,” you pressed your chin against his chest, as he glanced at you. He grinned and kissed you softly a few times, making you feel giddy. 
Your friend cleared their throat and dragged their boot heel against the dirt, hinting at the awkwardness of the scene. “Sorry…” You wrinkled your nose at your friend then at Jaime. 
“Your partner’s still flaring up.”
“Okay. My break is over, I should get back in there. I’ll see you later?” You nodded at him almost silently reassuring him that you would be fine, there wouldn’t be anything to worry about. You had already taken medication and did your stretches before your shift. 
“Call me,” Jaime said to you but then turned his attention to your friend. “I mean it…” he warned as your friend waved their hand, then headed back inside the diner. 
The orders started rolling in quickly with customers constantly changing their minds when one thing didn’t sound correct. The customers were attempting to be patient but you could read it on their faces they weren’t. Your body was beginning to prickle, it was beginning to be heavy for you to move back and forth. Your body was screaming at you to slow down. But you weren’t going to leave your friend. 
You made your way to the back with the cooks. “Hoy, esta bien?” One of the cooks asked you while she flipped over the hamburger meat. You rubbed your temples forcing yourself to smile despite the pain running through you. 
“Just need some water.” You picked up the small plastic cup, and went to the sink to fill it with water. 
Your friend made it to the back to correct one of the meals the cook had put out and saw you. They read your face immediately. “Jaime will kill me…. Call him.” They dug in their pockets and held out their phone to you. “Now.” 
You tried to argue, mumbling words to tell your friend were okay, but you couldn’t hold up. They found Jaime’s name and dialed it. They made you press the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” 
“Jaime… hey…” Your voice cracked as you tried to push down the pain. 
“What happened? Where are you? I mean you’re at work. Duh! But what happened?” 
You laughed weakly and swallowed exchanging a glance with your friend. “I need you.” 
“On my way. Stay there!” Jaime’s voice filled with panic hanging up the phone. Your friend pocketed their phone and nodded at you, understanding. They left to get your things so you could find a spot to sit and wait for Jaime. 
He stumbled inside the door, bumping into a few of the customers as he desperately scanned the crowd. Khaji told him you were in the back, he made a path for himself to get there. He saw you completely drained, he rushed over to you and cupped your face. “Hey. Hey. I’m here. Okay?” He kissed your forehead a few times making you chuckle lightly. “Let’s go. Okay?” He cautiously got you to your feet and left the restaurant. 
—-
Jaime was impatient as soon as you both entered your apartment. He set you down on the bed, not finishing his sentences while he got your medication. You tried to speak up, but he kept talking over you. It was a little endearing in his own way. He went to the bathroom and started a warm bath. “Okay. It’s set. Come on.” He helped you up, getting you undressed as he carefully guided you into the tub. 
Your body sank into the water promptly feeling a sense of relaxation. You grinned weakly over at him as he made a space for himself on the floor next to the tub. He rested his chin on the edge. “Jaime…” you started to say reaching over to touch his cheek. 
“I should have listened to Khaji…” he admitted quietly and frowned. “You were beginning to have flare-ups, she sensed it. But I just-“
“Jaime.” You leaned up slowly taking deep breaths. You pressed your lips against his wrist. “I’m okay. I know myself better than she does. I should have realized it. It was a long day for me, and I ignored the signs. I thought… I could do it.” You traced his lips tenderly. He always carried so much on his shoulders - being Blue Beetle, his family, the well-being of the community, and then you. 
You wished your body didn’t work against you. And for the most part, you could handle the flares up and the weakness. But then there were times - like that night - when you couldn’t. It was too much for you. “You already do so much for everyone… me.”
“But what would happen if you weren’t here…” Jaime chewed on the inside of his mouth. “I love you. I want to take care of you. You’re my person.” 
You laughed a little as you slipped your hands into his.  “You’re my person.” You leaned over to kiss him softly. Jaime was gentle as he kissed you back, wanting to savor the taste of you. He stood up on his knees as the kiss grew deeper but stopped himself from falling into the tub. 
“I got it.” He stood up, struggling a moment to slip off his hoodie, and then pulled down his bottoms. You watched him, swallowing as he gestured for you to scoot forward. You did exactly that and waited for Jaime to climb in behind you. Once you felt him get comfortable, you started to lean into him. He ran his fingertips up and down your bare shoulder, placing warm kisses against your skin. Goosebumps started to pop up along your body, it was relaxing. 
“Thank you, Jaime.” You whispered, turning your body just enough to face him. He smiled lazily at you, kissing your forehead. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying the tenderness. He used his fingertips up and down your arm, nuzzling against the top of your shoulder, kissing your exposed collarbone. 
“I think I owe you a foot massage, as well. What do you think?” He half smirked when he heard exhaled happily at the thought. You nodded your head. “You got it.” He trailed his fingers up and down your spine, you leaned over to kiss his shoulder.  Your body shivered when you felt Jaime trace the word 'LOVE' on your back.
*** Please give my fiction blog (@alienstardustwrites) a follow. Thank you! <3
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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hi lovely, i’ve been throwing up all morning and i was wondering if you could do something about aaron hotchner comforting the reader while sick w the stomach bug?
sending lots of love ❤️❤️
cw // being sick/throwing up/mentions of vomit
Throwing up in Aaron's car has to be the worst thing you've ever done. And it's worsened by the fact that, with nowhere to puke, he'd shoved his work bag into your lap. Your vomit is currently soaking into his paperwork, the fine leather of the bag surely ruined for good.
"Aaron," You choke, mouth rancid and throat burning, "I'm- I'm sorry!"
"it's alright," He soothes, glancing over at you as he stops at a red light, "Are you okay, honey? I'm not mad."
He knows exactly what you need to hear, of course.
"You should be," You groan, taking the pocket square that he hands you and wiping at your mouth, "I threw up in your- bag!"
At the sound of your gagging he pulls over, blinker clicking as his tires screech slightly against the tarmac of a parking lot. It's taco bell, and your stomach churns at the thought of a bean burrito.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and ignoring the residue on it, "We're five minutes from home. Can you make it, or should we wait?"
"I don't know!" You wail, and you feel like a petulant toddler, tears streaming down your cheeks from the pain and discomfort swirling inside of you, "I- I feel sick but-" Another gag, and he scoops your hair off of your neck, "But I just wanna be in bed, so- so we should just go.. But-!"
"I think," Aaron croons, scraping his nails up your neck, "We should wait. Just five minutes, and you can lay the seat back so that you're laying down. You can have my jacket for a blanket," He twists himself uncomfortably in his seat to shed it, taking his sick-soaked work bag and tucking it beneath the center console, "And we'll just rest, okay?"
"Okay," You nod, sobs thickening your words and making them fragile like a bubble about to burst, "I'm really- really sorry I threw up in your bag."
"I put my bag in your lap so that you could throw up in it," He lets out a fond chuckle, leaning over to kiss your forehead before taking the bag outside to empty into a trash can, "It's okay, sweetheart. I can get a new bag."
You think he's the bravest man in the world for kissing you right after you'd thrown up. It's not like he jammed his tongue into your mouth, but you know you smell like a toxic waste container, so when he ducks back into the car with a stinky, now empty bag and leans over to do it again, you sniffle.
"Thanks, Aaron." You tuck your face into his jacket, leaving your cheek on display in case he feels like smushing another kiss into the chub there, "'Love you."
"Love you too," He rubs a hand up your thigh, squeezing it soothingly and smoothing out a wrinkle in his coat as it's draped over your shoulders, "I'll tell everyone we're taking the week off. Garcia will probably try to bring soup over, you know."
"Let her," You plead, "Your soup is pathetic."
"Hey!" He chuckles incredulously, "I'm sorry that we can't all be, I dunno, soup wizards."
"You're the worst soup wizard in the world," Your groggy, post-adrenaline rush brain conjures of images of Aaron in long robes in front of a cauldron, the terrible meal boiling over and splashing the hem of his outfit, "You'd get kicked out of soup wizard school."
Aaron doesn't respond, and you don't blame him. You're too dazed to hold a meaningful conversation, so you let yourself drift off to sleep after you're sure he won't protest your proclamations of his culinary deficiencies.
He refrains from laughing at you, sorry to do so while you're sick. The message that he types out to the team's group chat is short and to-the-point like his always are, Y/N's got a stomach bug. We won't be in for a few days. Penelope, get your magic wand out, she wants a soup wizard.
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lottiecrabie · 9 months
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choose your own smut adventure. part four – matty healy
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previous. start.
You flush, looking down, suddenly shy. Matty laughs a little at your reaction. He presses his fingertips into your thigh soothingly. “I wanna see you,” he says lightly. 
You huff. “I can do that alone.” 
Matty hums. He climbs his hand, entirely skipping where you need him most, to settle at your hips. Again, he rubs the bone reassuringly, though the consequence is more akin to fire dancing under your skin. “But I need to know how to get my best girl off.” 
It’s the nickname that does it.
Cheeks still heating up, you take a tentative hand down to your breast and cup it. Matty follows your movement religiously, his eyes tracking every small rub your thumb does on your nipple. His lips part in wonder; you gain a semblance of footing, grinning teasingly at him as you pinch it next. 
Fascinated, Matty raises a hand to your lonely breast. He follows the same pattern, twisting and rubbing and pinching when you do. His fingers are tougher than yours, the calluses delicious on your skin. You moan for him, rolling your eyes back. Matty pants, out of breath just from watching you. 
“Now what?” He says, shortwinded, a groan almost out. 
Your eyes find his as you travel down your stomach. Your fingers spread across your cunt, your middle one dipping between your folds and finding your clit easily. You press on it, jumping and biting your lip from the sudden strike of pleasure, then rub. 
Matty swallows thickly. “Fuck,” he groans. His eyes are dark and flickering; he vacillates between your fingers and your face, unsure of what mesmerizes him most. “You’re impatient,” he comments as you make quick swipes on your bud. It’s a fact, an observation on your performance. 
“I’m efficient,” you say haughtily. Matty snorts. “This is when I—” You blush, brain catching up with your tongue. “You know,” you say pointedly, leaving your clit to dip two fingers inside of you. 
A whole body shiver takes you. You whine, spreading your legs wider to accommodate for the stretch, refusing to wrinkle your face shut like you usually do. You wanna see him, see his dark eyes and his swollen lips and his sweaty hair falling over his forehead. You want to see the moan dying in the back of his throat, want to flick your eyes to his hand as he palms your tits again. 
You thrust in and out, using your free hand to find your lonely clit and circling it quickly. You really are efficient; pleasure is a fast, proper affair with you. You’re out of the sheets and cleaning your hands in under a few minutes, back to your computer and studying with a clear mind. 
You follow that dizzying pattern now. Pleasure waves through you familiarly. Your legs shake, your stomach tightens, your fingers work diligently. Your eyes blink, forcing them open to look at Matty, bliss swooping every time you do. “Do you get it now?” You say, out of breath. 
“I do,” Matty whispers. 
His free hand at your hip grazes down your thigh, grounding your poor shivering legs. He climbs it up again, finding the apex of them, your hard working hand. He lingers there, above you, for a moment. You make to move off, to leave him the stage now that you’re properly ready, all soaked for him. 
But Matty halts you. Instead, two of his fingers slip inside of you with your own. You gasp at the tight stretch, throbbing around the four digits. The palm of his hand is warm over the back of yours; bigger, overwhelming it. You roll your eyes into your skull. 
“Matty,” you moan, some vertiginous feeling taking over your head at the realization of what you are doing. 
“It was like this, right?” Matty asks, more cheeky than truly questioning, as he curls his fingers, forcing yours to move along. Hot pleasure shoots up your spine, waking it up with a shiver. You nod vaguely, faraway. It wasn’t like this; it’s never been like this.
Matty slides in and out of you. You follow in tandem, obediently listening to whatever pace his heart desires. It makes your head in sing, makes your mind waxy and blurry. It’s liquid heat coursing through your veins. You think you might lose your mind. 
“Hey, love,” Matty pinches your nipple, making you blink your eyes open. “Look at the show.” 
You follow his eyesight down to your working hands, thrusting inside of your sopping cunt. Your brain spins deliriously. It’s filthy, the filthiest thing you’ve ever done by far. A low whine slips past you, eyebrows wrinkling together from the spectacle. Ecstasy pumps through you, following the rhythm of your four fingers. 
“We’re perfect together,” Matty whispers. “Don’t you agree?” 
You bite your lip, keeping in another string of moans, but manage a fucked out smile anyway. “The best.” Matty agrees with a particularly skillful thrust, dipping far inside of you. You kick your legs, crying out. 
“There we go,” Matty coos. “See, good things come with time.” You shake your head, though you’re in no position to argue when your sanity is stretching thin, pleasure stringing it. 
Your arm grows tired and sore. You give up, letting Matty puppeteer your poor, slack hand, letting yourself be washed in the answering euphoria. You almost wish you could grip his shoulder, his arm, his hand; something to hold onto, to catch yourself. 
“Touch your clit,” Matty demands. You nod, starting those tight circles again. 
It’s the last nail in the coffin. With another perfect four-fingered thrust and a sloppy swipe over your bud, you fall apart on your joint hands, screaming out Matty’s name. Your mind unravels, euphoria cutting the string loose, letting your body jerk senselessly. You cry obscenities, all jumbled together. 
You come down slowly, breathing quickly. You’ve never known an orgasm like this, not even with your own sharp, efficient hand. You feel gooey on your bones.  
Your eyes tentatively open, finding Matty’s grinning face. “Hi,” he says. 
You laugh. “Hi.” 
Slowly, Matty pulls both hands out of you. You jump at the sudden lack, your cunt fluttering around nothing. Grabbing your wrist, he brings your soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them into his mouth. You moan at the sight.
His eyes find yours. He smiles around your digits, then brings his own hand to your face. His wet fingers tap on your lips. You tentatively let them part and he slips inside of you. You suck your juices off him, whining around him, and a shiver travels down his spine. 
Matty lets you go with a pop. Spit coats your fingers. “There you go. All cleaned up.” He grins lazily. His hand leaves your mouth and finds your waist, gripping it greedily, like he might die from not touching you. “So what do you have on that list of yours?”
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annabelinlove · 3 months
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“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”
I turn my face from the fire and look at the person who just sat next to me. Sirius Black looks at me with tired eyes, cigarette that’s waiting to be lit in his hand. I blink a few times to focus before answering.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, trying to sound awake, but judging from his face, I know I’m not doing a good job.
“You know what I’m talking about, pet. I am with you the whole day, if not me then Prongs or Moony, right until we’re tired and go to our room. When I can’t sleep, or wake up feeling restless, I come here to have a smoke and guess what. You’re here. Every single time. Reading, or writing or just staring at nothing like you were doing just now. We talk and then I go back to my dorm to go back to sleep, but I never see you leave. And every morning before class, you’re already here, prepared and everything. So tell me, darling. When was the last time you’ve slept?”
I stare at him with open mouth. I never knew he noticed these things, or actually thought about them. He’s looking at me with concern written all over his beautiful face. His frown forms wrinkles between his eyebrows and I wanna kiss them away. But you’re best friends, you can’t screams the voice in my head and I’m glad that my brain is working even without sleep. I want to open my mouth and answer him, but I have no idea what to say, so I just stare at him.
“C’mon, you know you can tell me anything. I’m your best friend, we’re supposed to tell each other when something is bothering us, so the other one can help. That’s what we’re here for.” he urges, desperation in his voice. His eyes are boring into mine, like he’s trying to read my mind, but I can’t help him do that.
“So that’s all I’m good for? Am I just a problem solver for you?” I tease him, trying to avert his attention from the topic. One side of his mouth twists, and I’m glad it amused him at least a little bit.
“You’re so much more than that to me, love.” Sirius promises, his features softening. He grabs my hand and his warmth seeps into me. “You are everything to me, so please, please tell me what’s bothering you. Why don’t you ever sleep?”
“Nothing, I’m just not tired.” I say nonchalantly, hoping that I sound convincing. He lifts one of his eyebrows and gives me an unimpressed look.
“Yeah, right. The circle under your eyes are so dark, I’d think you were a raccoon if I didn’t know any better, pet.” he jokes, but his eyes don’t hold any amusement, just pure concern. I sigh and look at our joined hands, my fingers toying with his rings. I open my mouth to say something but he interrupts me.
“I swear, if you’re gonna ask me why I’m wearing my rings now, I’m gonna strangle you.” he threatens, and I smile for the first time tonight, because it warms my heart that he knew I was gonna ask that. He knows me too well, it’s scary sometimes.
“I don’t wanna sleep.” I murmur, hoping he can’t hear me, but from the way he squeezes my hand, I know he did.
“Why don’t you wanna sleep, darling?” he asks gently. I shrug my shoulders, but he’s patiently waiting for my answer.
“Because I think a lot. And my mind goes to places I dont want it to go. I think about everything, the school, the future, us. And once I start, I can’t stop, until I fall asleep. But when I do, the nightmares begin. They’re horrible Siri.” my voice breaks and I try to take a deep breath, but fail. “I’m always alone in the dark, but I can feel I’m not alone, you know? Like the feeling you get when someone is watching you. And then, out of nowhere, someone just appears right in front of me. It’s either you, Jamie, Remmy, Marls or just anyone I like, but..B-but they’re dead, they’re always dead and staring at me with huge, lifeless eyes. And I try to move, to help them or run away, just to do something, but I can’t. It’s like I’m frozen in place. And then I hear voices, yelling at me that it’s my fault they’re dead or asking me to help or just telling me how worthless I am. And I can never wake up. No matter how much I try, to just wake up, I can’t. I keep telling myself that it’s not real, you are all okay and its just my imagination, but the longer it lasts, the realer it is and I can’t wake up and it’s terrible and it’s killing me and I don’t wanna sleep ever again because..” Sirius hugs me close to his body shushing me softly, stopping my rumbling. I didn’t even realize I was crying until I can feel the wet patch I formed on Sirius’ shoulder. I hiccup loudly, trying to keep my breathing calm, but failing once again.
“Shh, it’s okay love. Try to breathe. I’m here darling, don’t worry. I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere. Just beathe, my love.” He murmurs into my ear, rocking us lightly. One of his hand if tightly wrapped around my back, drawing small circles, while the other one is in my head, protectively holding my head to his shoulder. I listen to his soft words, breathing in his cologne and trying to stop shaking. We stay like this for Merlin know how long, but he doesn’t stop whispering sweet nothings and rocking us lightly even after my breathing is regular and I’m no longer shaking. He squeezes me one last time, before slowly pulling away, yet his hands never leave my body. I’m basically sitting in his lap, but neither of us seem to mind.
“I’m so sorry, darling, I had no idea. I’m so fucking sorry..” he apologizes, but I interrupt him before he can say more.
“It’s not your fault, Siri. You couldn’t have known, because I never told you. I didn’t want you to worry.” I try to reassure him, hating that desperate look on his face, but he just shakes his head, and places his hands on my cheeks, his cold rings soothing my hot skin.
“I should have asked sooner, I knew something was wrong, but I decided to let it be and that’s on me, but I promise I’m never gonna do it again. I’m so sorry I’ve let you suffer alone for so long, my love. It’s never gonna happen again, I promise. You’re never leaving my side again. You’ll sleep in our dorm from now on. Company could help you, and you’re gonna try some of Remus’ tea, he hides under his bed and even if that’s not gonna work, we’ll go to Madam Pomfreys. You’re not in this alone okay? You have me and you always will, I’m not going anywhere and I won’t stop, until you get the rest you need and deserve okay?” he promises and I believe him. The look in his eyes is determined and I know that when he sets his mind on something, he doesn’t stop, until he achieves whatever it is he wants. I smile at him and nod, not being able to say anything. But Sirius doesn’t mind, he closes the distance between us, and gently kisses my forehead, the kiss lingering longer than usual and butterflies inside me are awakened. He leans back with me still in his arms and lays comfortably on the sofa. I set my head on his chest, and close my eyes listening to his heartbeat.
“You’re gonna get through this, I promise. I love so fucking much, more that you know, my love.” These are the last words I hear before drifting into sleep for the fist time in what feels like millennia.
And who knows, maybe one day I’ll share my secret about how I feel about him. And something about the way he holds me right now and his words tell me, that he will be glad I share another secret with him.
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anakinsgirlfriendreal · 6 months
Text
Parts Of The Truth
Chapter Eight
Warnings: 18+, foul language, maybe some misspelling, infidelity, angst, family issues, discussions of pregnancy and abortion, honestly can't think of anything else lmk.
Padme, placed the phone back in her purse, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, she smiled at the couple across the table. Old friends from Anakin's college days.
"He's on his way, lost track of time with work," she excuses her husband's lateness.
"Oh, so he hasn't changed at all," Owen laughs.
His wife leans into him, "I'd hope he has, from what I remember he was quite a ladies man."
Padme laughs awkwardly, sucking in as much air as her lungs can take and breathing out again, "maybe we should order drinks." She beckons the waiter.
Fifteen minutes later Anakin finally arrives, kissing Padme's cheek and greeting his friends. She smiles when he sits next to her, his hand on her leg. Her face falls when she smells it; when she smells her, the smell of fresh roses and ocean breeze, a combination that could make anyone happy made her sick. Her mind tuned out the voices around her, the music playing in the restaurant, the laughter of their friends just background noise as her eyes zero in on his appearance, noticing every detail, the small wrinkles in his suit, the way he smelled, the way his hair was a little messy. Her breathing got heavy and she felt her heart beating in her ears. She stood up suddenly drawing attention from the trio around her. "Uh, sorry, I just- I need to use the bathroom," she excuses herself.
He looks up at her, "What's the matter love?" He asks his eyes soft. She shook her head, smiling.
"Maybe I should've stayed light on the margaritas, I'll be back." She walks away from the table and further into the bistro where the bathroom was.
Locking the door, she tried to calm herself down, gripping the sink, he felt her tears fall, she tried to compose herself, she lets out a small sob. Lately she'd been crying a lot; every time he came home smelling like roses, like the freshness of the ocean, every time he came home with his suit wrinkled or his hair disheveled claiming he was just stressed at work and got a bit comfortable, every time he'd reject her because he wasn't in the mood, every time he'd yell at her for pushing the idea of adoption or every time he didn't come home and didn't call to say where he was or if he was okay.
She dried her tears, reaching for her phone in her purse, finding your number.
You groan, reaching for your phone on the coffee table, pausing your show, you couldn't sleep so you decided to melt your brain with whatever garbage was trending, and the interruption was highly unwelcomed. Your mood lightened when you realized it was Padme.
"Padme hey" you smile as of she could see you over the phone, your mood dampens when you hear her voice, she sounded so sad.
"Hey, I just- I don't know why I called I don't know what's wrong with me I just needed to talk."
"okay, okay what's the matter"
"We're- we're at a restaurant right now, and and he was late and I just knew I just knew that he was with her and when he hugged me I could smell her and I just don't know if I can do this anymore" she cries.
You swallow the lump in your throat, if hell exists you were definitely leading the line there. "Padme I'm so sorry." It's all you could ever say.
"I feel so stupid," you can hear her sniffles "Ugh men don't you just wanna punch 'em right in their stupid perfect faces." She chuckles humorlessly.
"Well I know that feeling," you snicker.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted it's just nice to chat you know, I don't mean to burden you but you're like the only friend I have that gives a shit."
Your stomach twists into knots, "You don't burden me Padme."
You can almost hear her smile and you know it's sad, "thanks, alright well, I'm gonna splash some water on my fav and get back out there. Tell Darcy I say good night." She hangs up.
You put the phone down, running a hand over your face.
"You are so fucked up," Grace laughs.
You look at her warily, an annoyed expression on your face. "Grace."
"Relax, I got your back, secret's safe with me." She drags her fingers over her lips like a zip.
The next few weeks were nothing short of horrible, you now remembered why you and Grace never got along. She was constantly on your back about Anakin, walking around the house like she owned it, telling Darcy things she shouldn't know. You were going insane. Your mother was smart to ship her to you instead of dealing with her difficult personality on her own.
On top of all that you were sick; throwing up, constantly nauseous type of sick.
"Maybe you're pregnant" Ahsoka says, hands under her chin as she stared at you with raised brows.
You scoff, you hadn't even considered that. "Don't even joke."
She shrugs, "I'm just saying, this is exactly how you were when Darcy was cooking."
"I'm not pregnant okay, that's- actually not crazy" you shake your head, "fuck"
"is how you ended up here" Ahsoka quipped.
You chuckled, "that's pretty good."
She was about to respond when she's interrupted.
"Y/n." Padme approaches you, swiftly. Ahsoka's brows raised, you had told her of your new friendship, she thought you were stupid for that of course she was right.
"I thought I'd find you here, it's five soon, I thought we could do drinks" Padme turns to Ahsoka, "you're welcome to join."
Ahsoka smiles, "I would love to."
Padme claps, "Great, I could use the strongest...whatever they've got."
You sat at the bar with Padme and Ahsoka, shaking your head as Ahsoka took in all Padme's relationship drama. "I don't know, it's not like I've caught him right, but I know that he's cheating." Padme shakes her head, sipping her drink, "I can smell her on him as soon as he walks through the door." She turns to you, "Hey why aren't you drinking, we should get you a drink," she looks for the bartender. Her words were already slurred and you could tell she was tipsy.
"oh she can't drink" Ahsoka says.
Padme looks between you two, "well why the hell not" her eyes scan your face and then soften when she realizes, "oh, you're pregnant, honey that's amazing, congratulations."
You put your hand up, "well I'm not sure, I haven't taken a test."
Padme smiles, "oh, oh well then we're gonna buy one and do it right now!"
Ahsoka, who was also tipsy, nods along enthusiastically. "I LOVE THAT IDEA," she yells in your faces. Padme claps and calls over the bartender to pay the bill.
That's how you ended here, sitting in the stall of a drug store bathroom, peeing on a stick while Ahsoka and Padme laid on the floor peeping up at you.
"You guys are so weird"
"We love you" Padme says and you feel sick again.
You pick your cuticles waiting for the five minutes to be up, longest wait of your life. When the timer on your phone rings, Padme picks up the stick, staring at you excitedly, almost like she was the one pregnant.
"It's positive!"
You hit your head against the wall.
Padme frowns, "Oh come on this good right? Darcy will have another sibling, you'll have another baby- unless..."
You shake your head, "I can't keep it."
Ahsoka pouts, hugging you, letting your tears wet her sleeve. "Hey hey it's okay, that's your decision."
Padme sighs, in her mind she couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to keep a baby, but that's because she struggled so much to even keep a pregnancy, she pushes her own feelings aside.
You hold your head in your hands, "I don't know what I'm doing." You confess. "I can't have another baby, what am I even thinking"
Ahsoka rubs your back, Padme looks in thought, "what about the father? He can support you, whoever he is. I don't mean to pry."
You shake your head, "he's-it's complicated." You almost out yourself. "He's travelling for work, his career is at it's peak, we just can't afford to have another baby." You cover up. Ahsoka is silent, she knew; of course she did, you always tell her everything.
Padme nods, taking your hand, "Well you have us, whatever you decide we'll be right here with you" she smiles, god you hate yourself. "Also if you decide not to keep it, at least you won't have to rip your vagina all over again, that's good right." It makes you laugh.
"Yeah that's something."
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adelarsims · 1 month
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Hi XD
I actually do wanna learn more ab them! And I have a few specific questions if you don't mind!
How old are they really?
They seem a bit obsessed with looking young, is there a reason for that?
Why don't they use a wand if it helps keep their hands looking younger?
What changed them from a snob to a slightly more uhm personable person?
What do they teach?
Also here is your excuse to ramble about world building and magic cus I love this stuff
Another more vague one, you mentioned their childhood was rough, can you talk more ab that?
Finally because I feel like I'm overstaying my welcome, how did they discover they have feelings for Caleb?
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1. let’s just say over a hundred. caleb once told cassie that 100+ years old feels better than 97 or something, because there's something romantic about being 'over a hundred', like straight out of a fairy tale, while 97 is just a really old grandpa :D
2. when they imagine looking in the mirror and seeing their hair grey and face wrinkled, they're terrified. it’s not a simple vanity - many spellcasters share this fear, when you don't see the constant flow of time when you look in the mirror, your image of yourself freezes like a fly in the amber - and going back into that flow gets more and more terrifying because it feels like suddenly the end nears faster. not all spellcasters choose to prolong their life, but those who do find it hard to stop. as for the youthful look... i think Morgyn just craves to feel at their peak, being the perfect image of themselves in everything. they were deprived of feeling worthy in their early years, so they keep proving and proving otherwise. especially after some discoveries about themselves that upended their understanding of who they are and thrown them into a deep identity crisis – they would grasp at all perfection that is still within their power to maintain. well... maybe it's also a bit of vanity, too.
3. it’s just more natural for them to cast with their hands and gives them access to much stronger magic. a wand doesn’t hold any magic itself, it’s like a laser pointer for magical energy, helps to focus and direct it. spellcasters need wands, innate mages don’t, though they of course can use them too. hand magic is raw, it’s more powerful but requires mastery and precision, and allows to weave spells that aren’t accessible to wand users, because wand is a single-channel magic focus, so to speak, and hand magic allows multi-channeling it (so basically, there's a limit that former humans who learned magic can do, and for innate mages this limit is very far, if existing at all)
4. oh no, don’t mistake a snob for an insufferable asshole. they were always personable. they’re likeable, cheeky, warm and affectionate to those they’re close with, especially those who appreciate and accept them, even though their position as a grand sage and academia headmaster naturally made them more reserved. and they’re still snobbish about magic, they know no one will do it better than them when it comes to spells, tend to nitpick mistakes in others' spellcasting, and get annoyed when someone is being lazy or unreasonably cocky with their magic. they just were hot-headed about people doubting their prowess as a student, but they have matured a lot and have good self control now.
5. mostly advanced elemental magic, and a few arcane disciplines i’ve yet to find names for. magic schools in my morgynverse are quite different from what they are in the game, for example, practical school isn’t about cleaning dishes. it covers healing, herbalism and potions, enchanting equipment, crafting amulets, like that. the new jewery creating pack will work so damn good for my story, i can’t wait!
6. i already gave bits and pieces here and there on this post. i can tell you a couple minor things if you want. there’s a plant that is used in potions, it’s called cyclop’s brain, it has huge leaves and massive seed pods, and tiny tiny seeds. also, every four years, on 29th of february, “the day that does not exist”, the academia holds a huge event called Masquerade of Mysteries, it’s grand and magical and everyone is allowed to go all out with enchantments and costumes, every student and teacher is looking forward to it.
7. i’m not sure how much i should say considering that i hope to start telling my story one day and it’s a spoiler, but let’s just say they weren’t really accepted for who they are and were considered dangerous even though they never gave anyone any reason to be afraid of their magic (it’s not simply about them being a mage, that wouldn’t be as much of a problem as their origin)
8. slowly. eventually. they were physically attracted to Caleb from the beginning, but it’s doing right by one another that truly brings people together. Caleb was there for Morgyn when they needed it most.
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alienstardustwrites · 5 months
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* i just wanna keep callin' your name (jaime reyes/blue beetle x gn!reader)
♫ “I DON'T WANNA LIVE FOREVER” HALOCENE  
☼ Fic Request: Would you consider writing a Jaime Reyes x Reader imagine where Jaimes partner has chronic pain that’s triggered by standing and a job (like a server or hostess) where they have to be on their feet for hours and Khaji Da constantly spams Jaime with messages of like “your mate/partner is stressed, in pain, overwhelmed etc.” So even though he worries about them a lot and the reminders make him feel awful he’s learned to ignore Khaji Da. But then there’s a day where his partner actually needs him and he doesn’t know until they call him from work begging him to pick them up, maybe their shift went long or they forgot painkillers but they’re in a lot of pain so he rushes there and takes them home and just takes care of them. With painkillers, heating pads, a foot massage, and lots of cuddles. (Fem or gender neutral reader please) - Anonymous
✎ A/N: Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle Imagine. Reposted from my main blog. I'm so sorry this request took me longer than I wanted. My brain kept getting distracted. Until I heard this song... and went to work! I really hope I was able to capture your request. <333!!! Feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for all the reads!♥
‼ ‼ WARNINGS: fluff
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It was Friday night which meant a busy shift at the diner. Dozens of rowdy customers came bustling through the doors, covered in their football team colors. You exhaled trying to warm yourself up to take this one. You watched them as they zigzagged their way into the empty booths and tables. You already knew this was going to be a headache.
The crowds were loudly recalling their favorite moments from the game. You leaned against the counter and exchanged a glance with your coworker. “Let’s take a quick break before we take on this war,” they suggested with a light smirk. “Taking a quick ten, boss!”
You snorted a laugh, then allowed them to guide you outside. “Hurry back!” You heard your manager call out. You waved your hand and then headed out the side entrance. 
You breathed in the night air, stretched out your arms above your head, then let them dangle. It was going to be a long night as if you didn’t already have a long shift. You decided to pick up extras when people were calling in. Your body was already feeling drained. You knew you couldn’t walk out and leave your friend high and dry not during the busiest time. 
Jaime strolled down the alleyway, with his hands in his pockets. You smiled weakly at him. “About time you got here,” your friend nudged Jaime and raised their eyebrows. “Your other half needs you. Words of encouragement.” They pressed their foot against his knee to get him to move faster.
“Ow! Jeez. I’m here.” Jaime made a face at your friend and walked over to you. He opened his arms bringing you closer to him. He kissed your temple. “You good?” He quietly asked.
“Yeah. I think,” you exhaled while you pressed your forehead against his collarbone. 
“Jaime. Your partner is beginning to feel overwhelmed.” 
Jaime often received advice from Khaji about your diagnosis. In the beginning, he would play twenty questions with you to make the mental list to make certain you were okay. Even when you answered him, he still continued his pop quiz. When you started telling him you were fine and took your medication, he started to lay off. He didn’t take in what Khaji said. He trusted you. 
“I think I needed to just see you,” you pressed your chin against his chest, as he glanced at you. He grinned and kissed you softly a few times, making you feel giddy. 
Your friend cleared their throat and dragged their boot heel against the dirt, hinting at the awkwardness of the scene. “Sorry…” You wrinkled your nose at your friend then at Jaime. 
“Your partner’s still flaring up.”
“Okay. My break is over, I should get back in there. I’ll see you later?” You nodded at him almost silently reassuring him that you would be fine, there wouldn’t be anything to worry about. You had already taken medication and did your stretches before your shift. 
“Call me,” Jaime said to you but then turned his attention to your friend. “I mean it…” he warned as your friend waved their hand, then headed back inside the diner. 
The orders started rolling in quickly with customers constantly changing their minds when one thing didn’t sound correct. The customers were attempting to be patient but you could read it on their faces they weren’t. Your body was beginning to prickle, it was beginning to be heavy for you to move back and forth. Your body was screaming at you to slow down. But you weren’t going to leave your friend. 
You made your way to the back with the cooks. “Hoy, esta bien?” One of the cooks asked you while she flipped over the hamburger meat. You rubbed your temples forcing yourself to smile despite the pain running through you. 
“Just need some water.” You picked up the small plastic cup, and went to the sink to fill it with water. 
Your friend made it to the back to correct one of the meals the cook had put out and saw you. They read your face immediately. “Jaime will kill me…. Call him.” They dug in their pockets and held out their phone to you. “Now.” 
You tried to argue, mumbling words to tell your friend were okay, but you couldn’t hold up. They found Jaime’s name and dialed it. They made you press the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” 
“Jaime… hey…” Your voice cracked as you tried to push down the pain. 
“What happened? Where are you? I mean you’re at work. Duh! But what happened?” 
You laughed weakly and swallowed exchanging a glance with your friend. “I need you.” 
“On my way. Stay there!” Jaime’s voice filled with panic hanging up the phone. Your friend pocketed their phone and nodded at you, understanding. They left to get your things so you could find a spot to sit and wait for Jaime. 
He stumbled inside the door, bumping into a few of the customers as he desperately scanned the crowd. Khaji told him you were in the back, he made a path for himself to get there. He saw you completely drained, he rushed over to you and cupped your face. “Hey. Hey. I’m here. Okay?” He kissed your forehead a few times making you chuckle lightly. “Let’s go. Okay?” He cautiously got you to your feet and left the restaurant. 
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Jaime was impatient as soon as you both entered your apartment. He set you down on the bed, not finishing his sentences while he got your medication. You tried to speak up, but he kept talking over you. It was a little endearing in his own way. He went to the bathroom and started a warm bath. “Okay. It’s set. Come on.” He helped you up, getting you undressed as he carefully guided you into the tub. 
Your body sank into the water promptly feeling a sense of relaxation. You grinned weakly over at him as he made a space for himself on the floor next to the tub. He rested his chin on the edge. “Jaime…” you started to say reaching over to touch his cheek. 
“I should have listened to Khaji…” he admitted quietly and frowned. “You were beginning to have flare-ups, she sensed it. But I just-“
“Jaime.” You leaned up slowly taking deep breaths. You pressed your lips against his wrist. “I’m okay. I know myself better than she does. I should have realized it. It was a long day for me, and I ignored the signs. I thought… I could do it.” You traced his lips tenderly. He always carried so much on his shoulders - being Blue Beetle, his family, the well-being of the community, and then you. 
You wished your body didn’t work against you. And for the most part, you could handle the flares up and the weakness. But then there were times - like that night - when you couldn’t. It was too much for you. “You already do so much for everyone… me.”
“But what would happen if you weren’t here…” Jaime chewed on the inside of his mouth. “I love you. I want to take care of you. You’re my person.” 
You laughed a little as you slipped your hands into his.  “You’re my person.” You leaned over to kiss him softly. Jaime was gentle as he kissed you back, wanting to savor the taste of you. He stood up on his knees as the kiss grew deeper but stopped himself from falling into the tub. 
“I got it.” He stood up, struggling a moment to slip off his hoodie, and then pulled down his bottoms. You watched him, swallowing as he gestured for you to scoot forward. You did exactly that and waited for Jaime to climb in behind you. Once you felt him get comfortable, you started to lean into him. He ran his fingertips up and down your bare shoulder, placing warm kisses against your skin. Goosebumps started to pop up along your body, it was relaxing. 
“Thank you, Jaime.” You whispered, turning your body just enough to face him. He smiled lazily at you, kissing your forehead. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying the tenderness. He used his fingertips up and down your arm, nuzzling against the top of your shoulder, kissing your exposed collarbone. 
“I think I owe you a foot massage, as well. What do you think?” He half smirked when he heard exhaled happily at the thought. You nodded your head. “You got it.” He trailed his fingers up and down your spine, you leaned over to kiss his shoulder.  Your body shivered when you felt Jaime trace the word 'LOVE' on your back.
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love-toxin · 1 year
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grumpy, older steve and eddie??? how did you reach into my brain and find every one of my kinks. i would be insufferable, they’d get the sloppiest, gushiest, most toe-curling, head-
ok.....im going off.....OFF!!!
(cws: older!bully!steddie, innocent!f!angelface, age gap (20s-late 30s/40s), kinda cnc-ish, some very visceral descriptions of sex, an eensy hint of misogyny, throat training, oral/eiffel towering, boot humping, ball worship, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, rimming, steve and eddie really wanna humiliate you.)
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so older also equals wiser = therefore Steve and Eddie that have aged like sour wine are connoisseurs of messy, gushy sex. they like it gross and sloppy and real, want you gagging and drowning in their musk and ball sweat like the pretty little slut you are.
like, if you follow their lead and agree to a little romp out behind the diner, you're gonna be on your knees in the dirt and grass and absolutely getting ruined. it's not some quick, clean handy with your little college frat guys who think the filthiest sex includes nothing more than spit--that's laughable to Steve and Eddie. they'll make you work for it, taking turns rubbing their cocks against your face and letting you get a feel for their heft, the look in your eyes as your pupils dilate at the size of them just earning you a few chuckles. you're so sweet and innocent it's just unfair, but it's a treat for a couple of reformed bullies like them. makes it much more satisfying to break you into becoming the shameless gutter whore they know you could be.
before that treatment can go on too long, Eddie will pull your head in and press your mouth to his balls, sighing at the warm feeling and digging his fingers into your scalp when you start squirming. you're just not used to a man's scent, but you'll adjust to it--and would you look at that, you do! your hands brace on his prickly thighs but you eventually stop struggling, your eyes fluttering shut as you soak in the taste of his wrinkled flesh on your tongue. he'll turn you into a proper sperm warmer soon, but the tender way you lap at each one and your inexperience showing through just makes it even more endearing, especially when you peek up through half-lidded eyes to see his reactions, hoping that you're doing a good job as you suck one of them into your mouth and nearly choke on it.
"go on, Stevie, try her out. bet that throat feels nice and warm."
just when you think you're doing well, Eddie pulls you off and passes you to his friend, angling your head so you come face to face with Steve's cock--one that's so veiny and almost purplish with need, swinging between his legs like a monster as he doesn't even bother guiding it in, just grabs the back of your skull with both hands and pushes you towards it. he's experienced, knows the angle of his hips and tilts them so he slides right down your throat, and squeezes your head like it's just a melon in his huge hands when you slap his thigh in a panic. you can't breathe, he's taking up every inch of space inside you!
"oh, please. you'll learn. through the nose, you little prude."
it feels like it doesn't matter, when he pulls back to start fucking you you can only catch a puff of air in that small pocket of space, which only gets smaller and smaller as he pummels your throat and grows eager to chase that squeezing sensation as you gag and gasp around his shaft. Eddie takes away one of your hands to wrap it around his neglected cock in the meanwhile, barely needing any of your attention or assistance as he holds it tight around him and keeps your grip steady as he fucks himself into it right by your head. not without a little something extra for you, though--he shoves his boot between your legs, clean but stained with grass and grease patches, and hooks it up so it curves right against your clothed pussy and grinds against your clit as he tilts it back towards him.
"hump it, sweetheart." he cackles, and shudders with pleasure when you obey, those sweet hips rolling back and forth against his shoe and causing his cock to twitch in your hand. it's a sensation to somewhat break you out of the haze of being Mr. Harrington's cockwarmer, your neck sinking and stretching with an uncomfortable bulge as he plunges his cock all the way down, your nose parting the thick curls of his bush until all you can smell is sweat and musk. the same scent comes from his balls, spit and precum smearing over them and making them sticky as they meet your chin on every thrust, nearly as fuzzy as the rest of him and so fucking fat with sperm that it aches every time they land. in fact, the only time your throat gets a break and you get to suck in a deep gasp of oxygen is in that moment when he pulls you off, before shoving you lower to sink under his weighty cock and suck his sack into your mouth. you've got no idea how much Steve loves that view, your pretty face wet with tears and spit off his dick rubbing between your eyes, moaning around his balls as you jerk some other guy off right next to you.
"c'mere, c'mere-" and upon witnessing what might just be the hottest thing he's ever gonna think about when he jerks off from now on, the long-haired man that's been using your hand as his own personal fleshlight can't take another second of it. Eddie gropes for your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you over and nudge the tip of his cock against your cheek, a moan finally spilling out of him when spurts of hot cum arc over your nose and splatter against your skin, eased out by his rough hand helping you twist hard strokes up and down his shaft as furiously as he can manage--at least with such a pretty young thing taking the brunt of his pent-up cumshot. you're messy with cum and spit and sweat, lips flushed and plump from the abuses they've rained down on them, and at the sound of a door opening around the corner of the building they both haul you up to your feet--but they're not done, shoving eager hands down the front and back of your panties to grope for the source of that delicious wetness you were leaking all over Mr. Munson's foot.
you're such a whore already, has it really only taken one try to get you there? but, then again, he can take you much further down--you're not even close to rock bottom yet, and both of them would love to see a pretty young thing like you totally crack under their feet. one look at Eddie, and the trailer trash he calls his best friend grins and nods, and Steve rips your mouth off his nuts despite wanting to just rub them right in and make you worship them. the hope that still glimmers in your eyes proves you have no idea what he's gonna do, but it starts dimming like he wanted when he pushes your head down lower, rumbling in that deep voice that I'm gonna make you love this as he raises his hips and positions you just so you're nuzzled up right where you need to be. and you surprise him once again, or you're just so resigned to your fate that you do as you're told, and his hips jerk suddenly at the sensation he's dreamed about since he first saw you walk up to their table.
"fuuuuuck...." he hasn't moaned like that since his glory days, he swears--your lithe little tongue flicking against his asshole sparks a wave of shivers running up and down his body, and he knows how sweaty he is, but you don't squirm away. just tremble and rock back against Eddie's boot as you start suckling on his rim, and Steve holds you in place to shakily hump your mouth as you timidly explore the new territory. it must be humiliating, having your face buried between some older guy's cheeks, letting him sink into the tip of your tongue so it slides right in and makes his balls squeeze and tighten up against your face. and that thought makes him grab at you harder and dig his blunt nails into your hair, a release coming on to him so fast he can't pull you off to cum in your mouth as he intended--he rides out his pleasure with your tongue buried in his ass, your air so thick with his heady scent that you nearly lose consciousness as he orgasms, his muscled walls clamping down on you tight until he finally loosens up completely and lets you throw your head back to take a deep breath.
"hey, missy! your lunch break's over!"
"c-coming-!" you squeak at the voice of your manager, all too huffy to be subtle as the two older men are fondling you under your work pants, two fingers plunging into your weepy pussy while two more rub at your clit. Eddie laps the seed off your dripping cheek while Steve is whispering a menagerie of dirty words into your ear, like cum, wanna see you cum, innocent little princess needs her guts filled, doesn't she? gonna leak all over my fucking fingers like I'm not old enough to be your goddamn father. just like getting your clit played with, don't you, slut? and that's what breaks you, makes your jaw go slack and your eyes roll back as you collapse into their arms, feet kicking against the ground as that overwhelming pleasure washes over you while you distantly hear your manager shouting your name. trying not to speak but not being able to anyways, a mess of shuddered gasps and squeaks escaping you as you clamp down on Eddie's fingers and listen to Steve quietly moaning more filthy nonsense just below your ear.
"-get in this damn kitchen, before I fire your ass out the fucking door!" they shout again, and with the fear of getting caught with two of your customers sobering you up, you stumble and hurry away from them with frantic fingers patting down your appearance. trying not to look like you just got fucked behind the diner you barely make minimum wage at.
"y-yes! coming, I'm sorry!" you can't even risk sparing a glance back at them, and you're too afraid to, worried that they might come right back in and spill the details of how whorish you are. and they do return by the time you check the mirror, and self-consciously find yourself walking round to get to any tables you have lined up. but there's only one, one right by the window. theirs.
they reclaim their seats, pants buttoned up and sweat wiped from their foreheads. they look as normal and somewhat-disheveled as ever, plopping down into the booth seats across from each other with a cup of coffee each, both of them nearly empty and the dregs cold from leaving them to spend some quality time with you on your break. and with a few frightened, timid steps towards their table, they deign to look up at you and Eddie grins, offering you nothing more than a lift of his cup and a question.
"be a sweet girl and bring us another coffee, kay? give us a smile, and I'll give you a good tip, too."
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something-tofightfor · 10 months
Text
Black Days 5: One More Time Around Might Do It
Pairing: Detective Tim Rockford x Female Reader
Word Count: 5,069
Rating: M (language, some suggestive comments)
Summary:  Your date with Tim means spending time alone - and out of the bedroom - with him. Will doing things backwards make it awkward between you?  
Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay in this getting posted - Marcus Pike took up residence in my brain and wouldn’t leave. But I think you’ll like this chapter.
Questions? Concerns? Wanna screech about Tim? You know where to find me.
Chapter title comes from "The Day I Tried To Live” by Soundgarden.
Masterlist / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 
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(banner by @stealyourblorbos​)
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When you showed up at Tim’s house the following day, the garage door was closed. Taking that as a sign that he wasn’t going to greet you the same way he had earlier, you parked your car and then headed for the front door, a bottle of wine held in one hand. 
As you waited on the covered patio, your nervousness grew. It’s stupid. It’s just dinner. Before you could worry too much, the door opened and Tim greeted you. The man’s hair was damp and slicked back, his outfit a faded t shirt and equally worn jeans that fit well in all the right places. And I decided not to go casual… shit.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, but instead of letting yourself get sidetracked, you held the bottle up and wrinkled your nose. “I know you said you don’t drink much wine, but there were about 400 options for beer. I didn’t know which one you’d like best, and I didn’t want to be late and wrong, so… here.” He grinned as he reached for the bottle, his fingers closing over yours where they held the neck. “I picked a basic red, because you said you were making Italian, and…” 
You trailed off as he studied the wine, the man’s focus on the label. One corner of his mouth twitched, almost like he was fighting back a smile. “This is perfect. Thank you.” Tim nodded up at you, gesturing for you to come in. “C’mon in. Food should be done in about 20 minutes.” 
The scent of his cooking hit you as soon as you entered the front hall, a quiet hum of appreciation caught in your throat at the discovery. “It smells incredible, Tim. I can’t wait to try it.” The air was fragrant with the scent of herbs and tomato, your mouth watering as you caught a whiff of something yeasty, too. “I’m going to start associating your house with food if you’re not careful.” 
“Maybe that’s my plan.” He paused by the refrigerator, opening it and setting the bottle onto a shelf. “Food and big windows. What more could you want?” You leaned against the counter as he turned to face you, eyes roving over your body. Oh, I like him looking at me like that. “Y’ know, you’re making me feel like I should have put something else on.” He held out a hand, gesturing to your outfit. “You look great, and I -”
His compliment made your cheeks burn, the heat rising to your face much quicker than you’d thought it would. Play it cool. Don’t embarrass yourself here. “You have to wear dress clothes for work all the time. Why would you not want to be comfortable on a day off?” Arms crossed, you shrugged. “And please don’t change. I’m a big fan of you in that t-shirt.” That made him smile, and as he turned away and toward the stove - where two pots and a pan were simmering - you spoke again. “No glasses today?”
“I wear contacts.” He picked up a wooden spoon and stirred something in one of the pots, his back toward you. “You usually see me in glasses because after ten hours of staring at a computer screen or a crazy wall or being on location, I’m ready to claw out my eyeballs and can’t get the lenses out soon enough.” Makes sense. “Depending on how long you stay tonight, you might just get to see that first hand.” 
“Oh, a live look at the inside story?” Pushing off the counter, you moved to stand behind him, one hand rising to press against the center of his back as you looked over his shoulder. “That’d be lucky for me.” You contemplated saying his name and kissing him when he turned to question you, but instead of doing that, you just pressed a quick one to the cotton that covered the back of one shoulder before stepping away. Don’t want to spook him. “I do have a question, though.” 
Tim shifted his weight, turning at the waist to look at you again. “Go for it.” You gave him a few seconds to wait, pressing your lips together like you were in thought. 
“Where do I put my appetizer order in? I like to have a snack before I eat, and -” He laughed, lifting the spoon from the pan and then cupping a hand beneath it as he brought it toward you. 
“No appetizer here, but you can definitely taste this and tell me if you think it needs anything else.” There was no pause as you opened your mouth and sampled what he offered, the sauce warm and flavorful against your tongue. Holy shit, that’s good. “Well?”
“Doesn’t need anything.” Licking your lips clean as he set the spoon back down, you pointed at the pot. “But you’d know better than I would, right?” Tim nodded, using one hand to turn the burner down slightly. 
“I would.” He reached out, taking your face between his hands and tilting it to meet his as he lowered his mouth to yours. “Guess I should probably taste it, too.” Oh. Oh, he’s… The kiss was short and not at all probing, more a press of your lips together than anything else, but it was meaningful, at least to you. 
Not only was it the man initiating a kiss, a sign that he was comfortable with both your presence and your personality, it was intimate, too, more like a follow through on an inside joke than anything else. And I like that. “Tim? You -”
“Hmm.” He was still touching you, your head angled back. “Think I might need a second taste.” You leaned in first. That time, your lips were parted, Tim taking advantage of that fact and trailing over the lower one with his tongue before he pushed it between them, moving a half step closer as he kissed you. 
You sighed into it, hands going to his waist and settling there, but before you could get too comfortable, Tim gently pushed you away, a half smile on his face. “That was smooth, detective Rockford. I’ve gotta give you that.” 
“I know.” He winked, thumb sweeping over your cheek one more time before he stepped away and turned back to the stove. “I think it needs a little more garlic. Can’t even taste it.” That made you laugh, the smile on your face growing wider as you watched his back, the muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. “I thought we could eat on the patio, since it’s nice out. If you want to get plates and all that, you can go ahead.” 
Murmuring that you would, you headed for the cabinet he pointed to, opening it and grabbing the necessary dishes. It might have only been your second time in his house, but it was clear that you and Tim were already comfortable with each other in spaces as small as the kitchen and bedroom. And that’s either going to be a really good thing for me… or a really bad one. 
— 
Dinner on the patio with Tim was the right decision. 
Both of you were relaxed and open, trading questions and answers about yourselves and your lives in a way that hadn’t seemed appropriate the previous night in his bed or even at the diner. Those had been conversations, but dinner felt like a date, even though you hadn’t reiterated that  that’s what it was. 
The way you were smiling at each other around the rims of your wine glasses coupled with the way Tim casually reached over to touch your hand on the tabletop while he spoke only made it more apparent. And so did the things you talked about, Tim steering the conversation easily, though he didn’t force any part of it. He’s good. He’s really good. 
“If I didn’t know any better, Tim, I’d think that you were interrogating me right now.” You sipped from your glass, pushing your empty plate away from you. “Do you even realize you’re doing it?” 
“Sort of.” He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, the furrow in his brow deepening. “I’m sorry. You’re not a suspect or a person of interest, or -” At your immediate reaction, Tim grinned, rolling his eyes and leaning closer. “Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean.”
“I’m very interesting.” Finishing your drink, you lifted your hand and twirled it in the air. “So interesting in fact, that a renowned detective has spent the last hour and a half asking me questions and was so engrossed in the conversation that he didn’t even realize that his drink has been empty for most of it.” You gestured to his glass and he looked down, eyes widening.
“You got me there.” Tim blew out a long breath and reached for the half-full wine bottle, pouring more into his glass. “Good catch,” He held the bottle out to you and you nodded, angling yours so that he could pour more into it. “I’m glad we did this.” He sipped the wine, still eyeing you as he swallowed. “Really glad.” 
“Me too.” Averting your eyes, you set the wine down, nodding. “There’s something that I wanted to ask you, though.” You’d gone back and forth over whether or not to bring it up again if he didn’t, and had decided that since things were going well, it was the right time. Because if I want to see him again, or take this further, I need to know. “Whatever this is with us, I’m assuming that at some point, we’d leave your place and go out - like we were going to go to dinner tonight?” He nodded, still watching you intently. 
“Yeah, I’d like to do that. Go out, grab a drink. Get some dinner, maybe see a movie.” Tim cocked his head to the side. “That a problem?” It was the furthest thing from a problem, and it filled you with hope. You and Tim were nowhere near a bed, or close to heading to bed. Aside from a few kisses and touches, things had stayed decidedly platonic between the two of you. For now. And…he seems alright with that. He said your name, pulling your attention back to him. 
“My ex still lives close by, and I know Sacramento’s a pretty big place, but he doesn’t really … he doesn’t really go far. So with my luck, we’d probably run into him. I guess I’m just wondering if you’d be alright with that. I don’t know that he’d say anything or do anything stupid, but I … I don’t know. I just…” 
Tim reached over the table and took your hand again, linking his fingers with yours. “Even if you and I were just friends and hadn’t done any of this,” he started, indicating the table between you. “Or you hadn’t spent the night, I still wouldn’t let anyone give you shit.” He squeezed your hand, eyes locked with yours. “If you and I are ever out together and see that asshole, it’ll be fine. I promise you.” 
You were stunned into silence, a tiny breath sucked in between your lips the only noise you made. He means it. “I just didn’t want you to get caught off guard, Tim. An ex is the last thing anyone wants to deal with, especially when you’re just getting to know someone.” Tim watched you closely for a few seconds and then nodded, a determined look in his eyes. Interesting. 
He let go of your hand and stood, beginning to gather the plates. When you stood to help him he thanked you quietly, holding the door open for you to step back into the house ahead of him. When you reached the sink, you turned the water on, reaching for a sponge, but the man caught your wrist after setting what he carried onto the counter, murmuring your name. “You don’t need to do that. It can wait. I’ve got it.” 
He was close behind you, the span of the man’s chest firm against your shoulders. Despite yourself, you leaned back into it. “You cooked, Tim. The least I can do is -” It was his turn to kiss you from behind, but he didn’t stop with the back of your shoulder. Instead, Tim turned his face inward, following the line of your throat up until he reached your jaw. There, he parted his lips to graze it with his teeth, urging you to tilt your head. 
You did, closing your eyes and sighing when his mouth drifted higher, his hold on your wrist tightening. “Turn the water off.” He spoke into your ear, the four words uttered in a low tone that made you shiver. But you reached for the handle, cutting off the flow. Tim smiled against your skin, and when you turned your head toward him, he was waiting. 
That kiss built - but it wasn’t slow. It only took a few moments for you to turn, pressing your lower back into the counter’s edge as Tim inched closer. He let go of your wrist but slid his hand down to lace his fingers between yours, his other hand gripping the counter just to the left of your hip. 
He was caging you in in front of the sink, the movement of his mouth against your lips constant. When you raised a hand to slide it up his side, he nodded twice, encouraging you. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you curled your fingers against the fabric, humming your appreciation. Tim’s hand slid along the edge of the counter until his palm made contact with your body, too, the touch sending heat through the thin material covering your skin. 
Then, it was his turn to make noise - a quiet groan from deep in his throat that you felt through his kiss. The movement of his hand only stopped when it was pressed against the center of your lower back, urging you away from the counter and toward him, though you had almost nowhere to go. But that means he wants me closer. 
After giving his hand one more squeeze, you let it go. That hand rose to the back of Tim’s head so that you could thread your fingers through his hair, the freshly washed strands curling against your palm. Is it always going to be like this with him?
“Wait a minute.” He inhaled deeply, backing off enough so that when you opened your eyes, you could look into his. “This wasn’t how I wanted this night to go.” What? His tongue flicked out over his lips, Tim’s head shaking back and forth slowly. “I -”
“You started it.” Rolling your eyes, you tugged on his hair before you let go, heart still racing. “I was just trying to wash your dishes, and -” Pushing him gently away, you narrowed your eyes. “And I was rudely distracted by someone’s hands and mouth all over me.” 
“Oh, you were?” Tim cocked an eyebrow, one hand going to his hip. “All over you? Because…” He gestured at you with his other hand. “Because I’m pretty sure you and I have a different definition of all over.” You had to laugh at that, giving him one more look before you turned back to the sink, reaching for the hot water knob. “What are you doing?” 
“The dishes. The sauce will dry out on the plates, and -” 
“No. Honestly, come on.” Tim’s hands went back to your waist, pulling you backwards and away from the counter. “Leave it. That’s what the dishwasher is for.” You let him lead you, and when you were back in the living room, Tim said your name, uncertainty in his voice. “I’m going to be honest with you, alright?” 
“Haven’t you been this whole time?” You tried for teasing, but at the look on his face, you stopped, mouth open. Ok, not the time. But what’s going on? “Ok. Honesty. Go for it.” 
“I planned on asking if you wanted to watch a movie after dinner, but if we stay here, and turn the lights off?” He pointed at the couch, shaking his head. “I might just end up bringing our definitions of all over onto the same page.” You had to laugh at that, lowering your head as you nodded. Well it’s too bad that he doesn’t want that, because I wouldn’t mind. “So how about this.” 
“Hmm?” You met his gaze again, waiting. How about what? 
“There’s a place I think you’d like that’s pretty close to here. Let me take you out for dessert?” It was the last thing that you’d expected him to say, but you were agreeing before he’d even finished speaking, head moving up and down enthusiastically. “Perfect. Let me get my shoes on, and we can go.” 
— 
Fifteen minutes later, you were putting your car into park and attempting to hold back a laugh. Of course. Of course this is where he’d choose to go. Exiting your car, you turned to look at where Tim parked, the man crossing the parking lot toward you, arms swinging by his sides. “A donut place, Tim? Isn’t it a little cliché?” 
His smile widened, the man holding his hands out and shrugging. “What can I say? They’re really good.” He pointed at the sign. “And because they’re open 24 hours, no matter when I stop in, they have shit available.” He reached for your hand, waiting until you took it to continue. “We can go somewhere else if you want, but -”
“No. By all means, Tim, I’d love to see what you snack on when you choose to spend your late night hours away from my diner.” Grinning, you headed for the door. “Come on. Let’s get some donuts.” 
And you did - ordering a half dozen between the two of you, plus a pair of frozen, fruity drinks. You sat at one of the tables to eat your dessert, the donut box open so that you could choose between them as you talked. 
Conversation was still easy, you and Tim going more in depth about things you’d covered during dinner, pausing every so often to take a bite of your pastries or a sip of your drinks. You were comfortable around him, comfortable opening up to him, and even though the topic of your ex didn’t come up again, you would have been happy to tell him more and explain yourself. But it’s not necessary right now. 
You were surprised at how busy the donut shop was, and even more surprised when the employees behind the counter greeted people by name - the same way that they’d done with Tim as the two of you stepped through the door. “Is this what you do, Tim?” You took a bite, chewing for a few seconds as you eyed him. “Get in good with people that can give you sweets? Get that special treatment for when you stop in during or after a shift?” 
“It’s just a great coincidence.” He grinned. “And you have no idea how much driving I do, so I notice a lot of places like this - and like your restaurant.” Tim took another bite, swallowing before he spoke again. “And I always pay. I can’t help it if someone throws in an extra donut or a ridiculous amount of whipped cream with my key lime pie.” 
You rolled your eyes at his words, finishing the last of your drink. That means we’re going to leave soon. We can’t just sit here all night. The thought made you sad, especially since you and Tim hadn’t talked about when you’d see each other next. Might as well ask. “So.” You reached for another donut, tearing off a small piece and popping it into your mouth. “If you want to go out again, maybe you should let me plan the next night?” 
“You want to make plans?” He leaned back, reaching up to rub beneath his eye. “Got anything in mind?” 
“Not yet.” You shrugged. “I’d need to have an idea about when it would be, you know? I’d plan differently if we had a weekend afternoon than I would a weeknight or even a weekend night.” Tim was quiet for long seconds, his dark eyes focused on you. “Tim?” 
“I’d really like that.” He leaned in, one hand rising so that he could brush his thumb over your lower lip, pulling it back and then popping it into his mouth, the man smiling around the digit. “You had some icing right there.” It took everything in you not to react with movement, but there was no way Tim didn’t catch the change in your eyes, both of them widening in surprise. “Yep. You can plan our next date.” 
“Great.” The prospect of getting to make a plan that someone was looking forward to excited you, and even though you didn’t want to betray just how excited, you wanted Tim to understand that it was meaningful. Especially since I know how he feels about dating. “You’ll just have to let me know when you’ve got a few hours free.” 
That was the first time Tim’s smile faltered, the man lowering his head and sighing. “I’m not sure when that’s going to be.” When he looked up again, you saw disappointment etched into his features. “I wasn’t kidding when I said today’s my last official day off for a while. I’m on call for the next couple weeks on my off days, so I can’t promise anything.” 
“Well that sucks.” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “But I understand.” You wanted to add something, to make a joke or to lighten the situation, but nothing came to mind. “Hopefully you’ll still stop in the diner to say hi if you have time.” 
“Of course I will.” He crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. “It’s not like you aren’t going to hear from me, but I’d hate to have you plan something and then get a call during whatever it is.” I get it. It’s disappointing, but I get it. “You could spend the night again tonight if you wanted to, no strings.” 
You drummed your fingers on the table, stunned at his suggestion. “I don’t think I should make it a habit of sleeping in your bed, Tim.” I can’t get used to it.  “No matter how well I slept, and especially on days when I work the next day.” He looked confused and so you continued, finally finding the right place to lighten the mood. “If I sleep in until after noon again, I’d get fired, and then I’d be screwed.” 
“Interesting choice of words.” He brought the straw to his lips and finished his drink, setting the empty cup down and then pushing it toward the center of the table. “But I understand.” 
In the silence that followed, you glanced upward and saw that it was nearly ten. You were unable to hide your wince at the sight, a pang of sadness striking in its intensity. I don’t want to go home, even though I have to. “I should get going, Tim. Even if I can’t sleep, I like to stretch out on my couch and zone out to the TV.” 
You knew that you’d be up late that night no matter what - replaying the kisses in your mind, along with everything you’d said to each other and the way he’d reacted to your presence. But at least at home, I can do it in private. “Alright.” He gestured at you with one hand. “Can I at least walk you to your car?” 
You agreed, and moments later, the two of you were heading out into the parking lot, Tim carrying the box of remaining donuts. 
He was close, almost to the point of your arms brushing with each step he took. I don’t mind at all. You unlocked your door and then tucked your keys back into your bag, turning to face him. “Thank you for dinner. And for donuts.” You jutted your chin out toward the building. “I’ll have to come back here sometime.” 
“Glad you liked it.” He reached for your back door, opening it and setting the donut box down. “Go ahead and take those. I probably won’t be home enough for the next couple days to eat ‘em.” You thanked him, watching as Tim stepped back in front of you and then put both hands on his hips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. I bet that’s how he looks when he’s working cases. “I meant what I said, though. If you ever need a good night’s sleep, I’m only a phone call away.” 
“But you can’t … you don’t know when you’re off.” Frowning, you leaned back against the side of your car. “How would that work?” Tim ran a hand through his hair, never breaking eye contact. 
“We’ll figure that out when and if it comes up, but I think…” He stepped closer, the overhead lighting in the lot casting shadows over some of his face and making the rest of it look more angular. And handsome. “I think a lot of your trouble sleeping is just you being in that apartment, and even more of it is your bed.” You hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. “So if that’s the case, then just giving you a place to sleep for a few hours might be an upgrade.” 
“A few hours? You mean when you’re not there?” He cocked his head to the side, waiting. “But that doesn’t make any sense. We barely know each other, I couldn’t… I wouldn’t feel comfortable -”
“Then I guess we need to get to know each other better, don’t we.” It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway, pushing off of the car and stepping into Tim’s arms, your head turned so that you could press your cheek against his shoulder. He hugged you back immediately, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “We’ll get you back on a normal sleeping schedule, I promise.” 
“Yeah, Tim. At least one of us should be well-rested.” He laughed then, saying your name and urging you to step back. “I had a good time tonight, even though we didn’t finish that conversation from dinner.” I wish it wasn’t ending. I wish we’d stayed at your place earlier. I wish we could go back now. “Thank you for inviting me.” 
“I know we didn’t. But I didn’t want that to be the last thing we talked about tonight, if that’s alright?” It took a second but you nodded in agreement, hoping that he could see the gratitude in your eyes. Because it’s there. He was stroking your arms, his hands running up and down both of them in a slow and steady rhythm. “I had a good time, too.” His eyes dropped to your mouth and then rose slowly, lips parting before he spoke. “Can I k-”
“You sure can.” You moved before he did, closing the distance between you and kissing him again. It couldn’t get that deep in the public lot - you knew that for a fact - but if it was going to be the last time you got to kiss Tim for a while, you wanted to make the most of it. 
Both arms went around his neck, and he wrapped his around your waist, pulling you closer. 
You weren’t one for PDA normally. But with Tim, it felt different - almost exciting - and so you let it continue, the man probing gently into your mouth, his kiss no longer wine-tinged and instead sweet, some of the tangy flavor of the fruity drink lingering on his tongue and combining with yours. “I could do that all night.” He wrinkled his nose before pressing one final kiss to the corner of your lips, his shoulders slumping. “Fuck.” 
You had to laugh at that, stepping backwards and still looking at Tim, the man’s chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to catch his breath. “Maybe eventually we’ll find out if that’s true.” 
That got a laugh out of him and moments later, you joined, doubling over as the sound got louder from both of you. Good. This is good. It feels right. “Nah. Not maybe.” No, definitely. He backed away, one hand sliding into his front pocket, the man shaking his head back and forth. “Let me know when you make it home, alright? I know we’re going the same way, but…” 
You assured him you would, and then Tim stepped closer again, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. “Goodnight, Tim. Good luck with everything at work.” 
“Same to you.” He straightened up, his shoulders going back. “I’ll call you soon.” 
You didn’t know when soon would be, but you believed Tim nonetheless. And on the short drive home, Tim’s headlights shining into your car from behind, you couldn’t stop smiling. Tonight was great. This is … this is going better than I expected. 
He gave a short beep of his horn as you took your exit, your eyes following his SUV as it continued toward the next one. Your fingers tightened on the steering wheel the closer you got to home, and his words echoed in your head - that he thought the apartment was the main issue, and the bed made things worse. Maybe I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. 
You parked in your carport and then got out of your car, reaching into the back seat for the box of donuts before heading for your front door. It was a little bit of a walk, and you cautiously looked around as you moved - out of habit. There’s nothing here. It’s just the parking lot. 
Telling yourself that worked until you reached the sidewalk in front of your building. At the sound of a car door slamming, you turned around just in time to see a flash from across the street, causing you to freeze in your tracks. 
What was that? Squinting into the darkness, you waited, trying to see if anyone - or anything - was moving from that direction. But there’s nothing. Just parked cars. It must have been headlights from the street reflecting on something. 
You shook your head quickly and then turned back to your door, reaching for your keys. By the time you’d texted Tim to let him know you were settled for the night, the flash had all but faded from your memory. 
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