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chr0llossexygf · 1 year

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IN RUINS

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

“ what happened?” hotch says standing infront of the big white board that had some very gruesome pictures of 5 victims splayed out on a park bench. he’s standing tall and strong with his hands crossed in his dark grey suit. he’s looking at you and spencer, who’s walking in right behind you slamming the door close.

“ It’s her fault.” spencer says quickly moving to the other side of the room opposite you, trying to get as far away from you as possible.

you take a deep breath in trying your absolute hardest not to roll your eyes and cross your hands in annoyance and disappointment. “ it’s not my fault reid-”

“ woah woah what the heck happened?” morgan says pushing himself back in the precinct chair watching you and spencer. he looks at spencer, he sees the strong look of disgust and annoyance spencer is shooting at you. he looks at you, he notices you looking at spencer with a disappointed look.

“ she told the unsubs family we are after the unsub-” spencer spits out looking over at hotch, waiting for him to yell at you or lecture you.

“ wait spence we don’t even know who the unsub is. what do you mean?” jj says turning her head to look at spencer confusion written on her face. “ exactly! thank you jj!” you reply throwing your hands up.

“ michael miller is our unsub hotch.” spencer says completely ignoring your attempt to reason with him, his eyes stay on hotch waiting for him to snap at you or just lecture you. “ wait a minute i thought michael miller had a solid alibi.” morgan says laying back in his chair resting his arms on the arm rests. “ he does have a solid alibi it checks out-” spencer cuts you off. “ it does not check out!” spencer says.

“ yes it does! hotch we asked his dad who confirmed his son came home at 8:30 pm from football practice.” you say growing impatient looking at hotch, hotch’s eyebrows are furrowed tightly. his arms are still crossed listening to you and spencer bicker back and fourth.

“ just because his dad showed the tiniest bit of concern about his son when the fbi showed up to his doorstep does not make him a reliable source, just because you never had a dad who showed any bit of concern and now when you finally see a dad care about their kid does not mean you should not fall into their trap just because you never had a trap to fall into.” spencer spits out finally looking at you.

he watches as your expression hardens. he watches as humiliation and embarrassment fill your once determined eyes, the determined eyes who tried to reason with spencer at-least 4 minutes ago. 4 minutes, that’s how long it takes for your perspective of someone to change. he watches as your eyebrows tremble, a habit you have when your trying to fight back tears. he watches as your throat trembles too, probably trying to fight back that agonising choke you get when your about to cry.

the entire room goes quiet. spencers gaze remains on you, slowly watching your soul shatter because of his words. your gaze remains on spencer, slowly feeling your soul shatter because of his words.

the door that spencer slammed close 4 minutes ago opens, rossi and emily walking in. “ michael millers alibi checks out. we’ve got pictures of him at football practice from 5pm to 8:25pm. he wouldn’t have had the time to commit the murders.” rossi says opening the door for emily. “ also his teammates described him as an extrovert and outgoing which is not what we profiled the unsub to be.” emily says with her hands inside her pockets nodding looking at everyone surrounding the table.

“ i feel as though we interrupted something.” rossi says eyeing everyone in the room raising an eyebrow in confusion. he could feel the tension. emily could too. which is why she immediately looks over at morgan for answers. morgan looks at her for a split second before returning his gaze on you.

“ y/n-” spencer attempts. he tries to bring himself to take a step towards you, but it’s like his words somehow built a barrier between you and him that he now can’t even physically cross. or maybe he’s just scared that if he takes a step towards you, you’ll take a step back. away from him.

you swallow the gut wrenching feeling of tears crawling up your throat. you look down to your converse. “ i’m gonna go…uhm get coffee.” you say turning around immediately walking towards the door. “ excuse me.” you whisper pushing past rossi and emily.

“ oh wonder boy..” garcia says through the tv screen, her bright purple tinted lips which usually wear a bright smile on her face now wearing a frown. her tone disappointed as she presses her heart eye fuzzy emoji pen into her cheek. “ i uhm did my usual background checking on the uhm..list of potential unsubs and a uhm…scott anderson has a sketchy background. i’ve just sent his file to you my pretties.” garcia says stuttering quite a few times finding it hard to sneak her usually bubbly nicknames into the conversation after what had just happened. “ thank you garcia. jj take y/n and check out scott anderson.” hotch says looking at jj his arms finally by his side.

jj nods standing up walking towards the door “ i-i can go” spencer says turning his body towards jj. “ stay.” hotch replies his voice stern and bold. he looks at spencer his eyebrows furrowed.

jj closes the door. “ sit.” hotch says to spencer pointing to the empty seat at the table, spencer slowly walks towards the seat sitting down. “ you shouldn’t have said that spencer.” hotch says crossing his hands. “ hotch-” spencer attempts but is quickly cut off, “ i’m not finished. I get it. your worried spencer. your scared-”

“ hotch-” spencer is cut off once again. “ you may think your hiding it well spencer but your not. we know the unsub is targeting female victims which have similar features to l/n. if your too close to the case spencer-” it’s spencer’s turn to now cut hotch off. “ but i’m not too close to the case hotch!” spencer replies. he wanted the similarities between you and the victims to only be in his head because he wanted only him, himself to notice the similarities between you and the victims. you both have the same hair color, hair length, both considered to be attractive, both have similar personalities, and similar taste in clothing. he didn’t want it to be true. but now he knows that they are, and they’re not just in his head he’s even more worried.

“ your stuttering spencer. you do that when your worried or nervous.” emily says pulling a chair from the table. spencer shoots his eyes away from hotch to emily’s. his gaze softens a bit, emily’s tone wasn’t like hotchs. it wasn’t as stern or bold. it was rather understanding and gentle. “ i just cant control myself around her.” spencer says looking down at the picture of the fourth victim who had been wearing the exact same pair of converse your wearing now. “ well your going to have to learn how to control yourself pretty boy. you shouldn’t have said that.” morgan says looking at spencer. spencer sighs hiding his face in his hands. “ i just..god i’m so stupid.” spencer groans rubbing his tired eyes.

“ stupidity is what ended my third marriage.” rossi says crossing his hands leaning against the bulletin board with a small chuckle, morgan looks at rossi and laughs. “ well thank god pretty boy isn’t married. he’d be the new rossi.” morgan says tilting his head to the side looking at spencer trying to lighten the mood, spencer who still has his head in his hands. there’s a million thoughts going through his head, all of them are about you. all of them are about how he should apologize. is he even allowed to apologize? will you let him apologize to you? would you accept his apology? what if you didn’t? did he just ruin his friendship with you? no screw friendship, he doesn’t just want to be friends. he wouldn’t be as sensitive as he is to this case if he just wanted to remain friends. he’s in love with you. spencer reid is in love with you. and he just potentially ruined any slight chance of ever having you know that he loves you. just because he’s stupid and didn’t think before he spoke.

“ are you okay?” jj says both hands on the steering wheel turning around to look at you next to her, in the passenger seat. your heads turnt towards the window, your picking at your nails. a habit of yours. you turn to look at jj and nod. “ yeah i’m fine why wouldn’t i be?” you ask tilting your head to the side with a confusing smile. you know exactly why your not okay. but for some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to actually be upset over it. what’s there to be upset about? what spencer said is true. he’s not wrong. why are you making excuses for him? what he said was not okay. totally not okay. why do you have to make excuses for every male figure in your life for when they’ve done something wrong? why do you always make them the victim and you the villain. you just don’t wanna lose them right? because you know that if your the victim and their the villain they’ll never apologise and the entire relationship will disappear, it always does.

“ what spencer said-” jj is talking in that tone, that tone that she would speak in whenever something was wrong. in a motherly kind of tone. you immediately shake your head, “ it’s- it’s fine jj really, i don’t care. can we just please forget it ever happened? lets just work on the case.” you say running a hand through your hair biting your lower lip trying to stop your voice from trembling, you know when your about to cry and you have that heavy feeling in your throat? you swallow it hard. you turn your head to look at the window not waiting for a response from jj. jj clears her throat, “ no yeah of course.” she nods smiling turning her head back around.

“ this should be it…” jj mumbles stopping the car, parked infront of a 2 story cabin. you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. “ it looks like no one’s home, there’s no car. we profiled that the unsub would have a van or a truck..” jj says closing the car door looking at the house. “ maybe he wouldn’t leave something so valuable to him outside, to the eye of the public. he’s possessive he thinks the entire world revolves around him he probably thinks someone would try to steal it.” you reply reaching in your pocket for your id. jj doing the same thing. you two walk to the front door, you in the front,

you knock on the door. you put your hand against your hip waiting for the door to open. “ we should ask the neighbours. maybe they’ll know-” you knock on the door again. “ scott anderson. fbi.” you say knocking on the door again. jj puts both of her hands on her waist. “ looks like he’s not home-” your cut off by the door swinging open.

you immediately turn your head around. “ scott anderson?” you ask looking at the man infront of you. you know it’s scott anderson, penelope had already sent his id picture on the drive over. he looks at you, then looks at jj. “ who are you..” he says looking directly at jj. “ i’m agent l/n with the fbi and this is agent jareau. do you mind if we come inside?” you ask smiling holding up your id.

he doesn’t even bother looking at your id. “ yeah whatever.” he moves to the side, making room for you and jj. you nod turning around to look at jj. she nods. you step inside jj following you.

“ do you live alone?” you ask analysing the house, its organised. weird for someone that’s his age. “ uhm yeah i do. what’s wrong with that?” he asks crossing his hands. you chuckle, “ no no nothings wrong with that, i also lived alone when i was 17.” you reply smiling. “ i’m 19.” he says looking at you, eyeing you up and down smiling. “ your pretty organised for a 19 year old.” jj says raising an eyebrow also crossing her hands smiling. “ guess i was just raised that way.” he replies rubbing his lips together. you nod. “ how were you raised scott..if you don’t mind me asking.” you say looking around the house. “ yeah scott how did you manage to score such a house at your age. do you work?” jj asks grabbing a picture frame. “ no i don’t work-” he turns to look at jj. “ put that down.” he snaps speed walking to jj. you immediately reach for your gun.

“ right..sorry. you don’t like people touching your stuff.” jj replies throwing her hands up in defeat. he snatches the picture frame. he grabs it caressing it gently, jj looks at you with wide eyes. you raise an eyebrow in confusion. “ scott. why do you have a picture of my colleague framed?” jj asks looking at the frame scott’s holding. your eyes widen.

“ oh god oh god. where’s y/n and jj?” penelope says aggressively tapping on her keyboard. “ what? what’s wrong?” spencer is the first to respond shooting up from the office chair just at the mention of your name. “ they’re at scott anderson’s why?” hotch says turning around, away from the white board to the tv. garcia starts tearing up, “ i-i did some deep digging and scott anderson has a blog about y/n..” garcia says in a shaky tone. no. no. no. no. no not again please.

his heart stopped for a split second. his hand start sweating. the air has been sucked out of his lungs. why is it so hard to breathe? why is there no air to breathe? there’s a million thoughts running through his head, they’re still about you. but now they’re worse. your in danger. your with the unsub. the unsub who has already killed five people. your in the same house with the unsub. the unsub who has a blog dedicated to you. and the last time you saw spencer you were teary eyed. no it can’t be the last time. no. please be safe.

his sweaty shaky hands reach for his phone. he clicks on your contact. hotch grabs his phone and immediately calls jj. spencer immediately puts the phone up against his ear. it rings. rossi and emily immediately stand up, “ penelope send us the address to scott’s house now.” emily says walking to the door. it’s still ringing. spencer starts biting his nails. his hearts pounding. the ringing of the phone case is haunting him. what is happening on the other side of the phone. why aren’t you answering. you always answer the phone. why is it still ringing? y/n why aren’t you answering.

“ god damn it!” spencer shouts into the phone as it keeps ringing. morgan stands up, “ hotch we gotta go.” he says standing up shoving his phone into his pocket.

the ringing stops. spencer’s heart stops. his breathing stops. everyone in the room looks at spencer waiting for any kind of confirmation. “ y/n you’ve gotta get out of there with jj!” spencer says stuttering with a shaky voice. hes scared. hes so so scared. hes never been more scared in his life. it’s quiet. why is it quiet? why aren’t you answering? what’s wrong. god y/n.

“ hey mom.” you reply. spencer takes a deep breath in. he stops biting his nails. he wipes his wet fingers on his pants. his hearts racing. your in danger. why are you calling him mom if your not in danger. oh god. he feels like he can’t breathe again. he can’t focus. he can’t do this. he can’t do this. he can’t do this without you. breathe spencer. she’s in danger spencer. she’s all that matters.

“ y/n. god i…” he chokes. “ you already figured it out didn’t you.” he says his throat feeling scratchy. he hears you giggle on the other side of the phone, your laugh erupts the butterflies in his stomach. under any other circumstances he would absolutely hate the butterflies in his stomach and would be mad at you for making him feel such way. but now they bring a sense of comfort, they make him feel normal for a split second. that this is not that big of a deal, he’s just calling the girl he really likes and he got butterflies from hearing her beautiful laughs.

“ yeah of course. i called aunt lizzie for her birthday mom i’m not stupid.” you respond. god your voice is so beautiful, but he can hear it. he can fear the slight fear in your voice. maybe other people wouldn’t hear it, but he can. spencer can. and it’s killing him. it’s tearing his heart apart. it’s making his legs shake. “ d-did he hurt you- is he gonna hurt you?” spencer says gripping his jeans tightly. he hears you laugh again, “ yeah mom.” you say.

he feels his legs going weak.

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anantaru · 26 days

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡

"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.

the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.

he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.

the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.

he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.

he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.

"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.

you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"

that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.

"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;

"i can fuck whoever i want,"

tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.

"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.

you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.

you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.

"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.

childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.

he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.

a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.

your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.

foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.

childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin Impact smut #childe x reader #childe smut #childe x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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underoospeterparker · 4 months

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HIII

can you please write remus lupin with grumpy x sunshine trope !! also, glad you're coming back. i hope you are doing well 🫂

dropped everything (and i mean EVERYTHING) to write this and i think it's one of my best ! and thank you lovely i am doing well hru?

grumpy!remus lupin x sunshine!fem!reader

"Why the annoyed look, Moons?" Sirius laughed, nudging his best friend. "Problems in paradise?"

Remus shoved him away, but Sirius still looked smug. Remus took a sip from his beer to try and attempt at staying calm.

"He's so grumpy all the time," James slurred, wrapping an arm around Sirius's shoulders. "Don't know how his girlfriend deals with him," he said, something that sounded like a snort escaping his mouth. "He still gets all the girls."

"He does," Sirius said, a solemn look on his face. The corner of Remus's lips twitched in amusement.

"It's not my fault the two of you still can't get girls," he replied flatly, finally acknowledging his best friends.

"Remus!" you shouted, halfway through the crowd.

He heard your voice and in a second, he had turned to the crowd to search for you, not even telling his friends where he was going. "Move," he said to someone blocking his path, voice filled with disdain.

"Sorry, man," the guy said, clearly not sorry at all.

He spotted you, and abandoned the half-conversation entirely. He immediately leaned down to wrap you in a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head.

"Hi, sweetheart," he murmured when you pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands.

"Hi, Rem," you said excitedly. "Where's Sirius and James?"

He took you to them, rather reluctantly. It was selfish of him, yes, but he had to admit that sometimes, he just wanted to keep you all to himself.

"Hi, guys," you exclaimed, a huge smile on your face as you greeted them. They responded with equally enthusiastic greetings and you sat down happily.

When you had settled down again, you whispered in Remus's ear, "I missed you today."

Remus grinned, and James and Sirius looked at the two of you, incredulous. A smile like that? From Remus? It was extremely rare, that was for sure. "I missed you too," he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.

When you and Remus finally turned back to Remus's best friends, they were gaping at the two of you, not even attempting to hide their shock.

"What happened?" you said, voice cautious and gaze glancing from James to Sirius and then back again. "Did I do something wrong?"

Remus was quick to reassure you. "No, honey, you did nothing wrong." He paused. "Just these two being pricks again."

"Yeah, okay," Sirius said, voice exaggerated. "Says you, Moony."

You tried and failed to hide a laugh.

#fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #remus fluff #remus x reader #remus x you #remus x y/n #marauders #the marauders #marauders era

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onetoomanyfandomfixations · 5 months

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Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar you are both at just so you'll calm down

"Just couldn't fuckin' wait till we got back, yeah baby?" Simon growls in your ear with his warm breath, lips close to the side of your head as you both stand cramped inside that tiny bathroom stall as he desperately works your cunt with his fingers. "My fuckin' needy little kitten, shit you're just grinding away on my thick fuckin' fingers, aren't ya? Needed it that bad?"

It wasn't your fault honestly, he knew what the liquor did to your libido and yet he let you have shot after shot to keep pace with the boys...I mean it was a celebration after all, but still.

If he didn't want to be knuckles deep between your petals he should have pulled the reigns long ago...and yet maybe this was what he wanted in the first place. It wasn't like he was dismissing your discrete advances all night, even taking you by the hand to the dingy bar bathroom himself.

Price's birthday wasn't always able to be celebrated, work did have to come first unfortunately, but it just so happened that everything fell into place this year and so the entire group gathered in the local bar to let go and have fun.

And here you were with Simon having you own extra bit of fun, though this one wasn't for sharing...

Using your bandana that you had worn in your hair tonight as makeshift cuffs, Simon had your hands tied behind your head so that you wouldn't be tempted to stop the work his fingers were currently doing down below to get you off.

It had to be quick and distractions wouldn't help.

"Sorry, baby," you whimpered, mouth agape as heavy breaths exited your lips. "Just fucking need you so bad sometimes I can't see straight. And you are just looking so good tonight...was having trouble not just riding you at the table."

Oh he was absolutely gonna give you hell for it, but there was no doubt that he loved every fucking second of just how needy you could get for him. Just hearing that lilting whine in your voice, begging and pleading with him to take you in any way, shape, or form he could sent him up the goddamn wall.

"They probably all know what we're doin' in here, ya know that sweetheart," he said, thick accent making your skin tingle and your clit throb. "They're probably chucklin' under their breaths about how we weren't slick at all, breakin' away from the group like that. I bet they're whisperin' about how you're fuckin' just takin' it all, whatever I give ya."

You shook your head, eyes closed as he slipped another large finger into your already soaked panties and up into your core. "Don't care," you breathed, "even if they call me a whore, they better put your name in front of it and I won't deny it."

The plan was just to get you off quick so that you could finish out the night with the gang and then take you back later to his to do you proper, but fuck the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans that wasn't gonna be enough.

"F-fuck baby, why do you always feel so fucking good?" you again whimpered quietly, so far gone between the booze and your lovers fingers that sanity had left you completely.

You were just so fucking wet, looking so goddamn voluptuous with all those juicy curves, saying all the right things to make him fall apart. As much as he tried to stay sane, it wasn't working, so change of plans...otherwise he was gonna be a fucking mess and that just wouldn't do.

That's how it always went, didn't it? He should've known he could keep himself out of you; not even if he tried.

"Ya want me inside ya?" Simon asked hurriedly out of the blue, as if he didn't already know the answer, and instantly your eyes shot open as your heart nearly burst from your chest.

"God, yes," you answered without hesitation. "Please Simon, fill me to the brim..."

A quick scramble to undo his pants, buckle jingling and denim rubbing against itself as he shimmied the damned things down enough to release himself, his cock already hard and pulsating, needing to enter you now.

Using the toilet paper dispenser as a makeshift ledge, Simon picked you up and set you on it with a prayer that it would stay bolted to the stall wall long enough the he could get you both off before it broke. He hated that any part of you had to touch anything in here, who the fuck knew how clean it was, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Your thighs instantly locked around his hips as you waited for him to align the head of his cock with your entrance. "Gotta make this quick" he groaned, the head of his member slipping itself through your petals.

And there it was, the initial thrust that always split you open as you took every inch inside until he ran out of inches to give. Christ, how fucking amazing it was to be so full of him; that fucking girth was more than enough.

"G-god-d-damn," he choked out, his hands digging harshly into your hips as he clung on for dear life, trying to not cum so fast. "Your gonna be the fuckin' death of me sweetheart."

You were already soaked and he had no trouble slamming into you over and over again, his pace quick and intense as at any moment someone could come walking through the door and hear you two going at it like a couple of teenagers, screwing wherever the mood struck.

Over and over his cock thrust into your core, the wet sounds of skin slapping against one another music to his ears that only fueled his passions further. You were a dream, a fucking vision of lustful beauty, and the way you felt only matched.

What was he supposed to do, not be obsessed? Fuck that, you were the best goddamn thing to happen to the manky bastard and it made him absolutely crazy about you.

Shit the pressure felt divine as the angle of his penetration made certain to engage your sensitive clit as well. Mix that with the tingling in your limbs from the alcohol and you were already dancing dangerously close to the edge of your orgasm.

"Yes, y-yes," you repeated in increasing volume, breasts bouncing up and down against his chest as he pounded into you.

"That's it sweetheart," he praised, "come on. Let go for me baby."

The wall of the stall shaking, the creak of the paper dispenser beneath you, the relentless place of Simon's hips snapping against yours was all to much.

"Cum with me," you begged.

"I'm already there luv," he replied quickly, "just let go. Come on pretty girl, come on."

In and out, in and out of your tight cunt a few more times, his abs clenching as Simon's own orgasm popped off and you were gone, crying out as your body shook from the release of pressure like a least in the wind.

Shit you saw fucking stars with that one.

As you both rode out the end of your pleasure together, that's when you heard the door open and a pair of heavy booted footsteps cross the floor. Simon's large palm cupped over the entirety of your mouth to stifle the last of your orgasmic moans, his cock still buried within you as whoever it was went about their business, taking a piss as was evident by the sound.

The urinal flushed after a few moments, followed by footsteps to the sink. A quick wash and the both of you thought the coast would soon be clear and you'd be able to finish up and head out.

"Be sure and come back to join us when your done, yeah?" the voice of your captain sounded through the tiny room; you'd been caught red handed. "Would hate to see you two leave early...again."

Well fuck, guess the cat was out of the bag now. Simon chuckled as he leaned in and gave you a kiss as the door to the bathroom shut, leaving you two alone in silence again.

"Oops," Simon whispered against your lips before he planted another heavy, greedy kiss to them, "too bad I'm not sorry."

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oval3000 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 1

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

-------------------------------------------------------

König felt three of the guards holding him down while one of the other nurses stuck a needle inside his arm. It took a while for it to work on him, but eventually he fell asleep.

The doctor infront of him, pressing his hands on the open wound of the other, unfortunate, nurse's neck trying to control the bleeding.

It was no use, the wound was deep the pressure barely hold the amount of blood she lost. It was honestly foolish of her. What did she think will happen? She kept rolling her eyes whenever König needed something. It was easy, she was sloppy, always leaves things unintended. It was time for a new nurse anyway all the other ones that come and go don't meet up to his standards.

The amount of nurses he has killed was all fun and games to him, but he got bored. Now it was anger that drives it. Before, he would play a game with them, he flirts to get them near him and it works until he chokes them with one hand or slits their throats with anything he can get his hands on or just simply slamming their heads to the wall. It was funny seeing them put up foam in the walls inside his room, it wasn't too long for them to realize it won't do anything when he smashed a guards head onto the floor and quickly stomped on it like it was nothing.

Bashing their heads to anything it's what got him here in the first place. Being in the military is something not everything can stand. For König it became a playground. Killing his enemies however he wanted. Breaking their heads, their necks, arms, legs, ankles, practically anything.

The amount of meetings the staff has to attend to acknowledge Königs behavior and how it's partially the staff's fault for being so careless. It was hilarious for him honestly. Having the entire building walking on egg shells around him. They don't know how to tame him, how to tame a monster who kills someone as if they are a cockroach

The only person that could possible get through his head is his psychiatrist. However his attempts to clear him backfires when König kills someone. At times the doctor is to frustrated that he gave up and he did, so he got a new psychiatrist.

He finds his new psychiatrist annoying. She puts other people's sceneries to get into his head to see what is wrong with him. Telling him that his suffering in the military is similar to a women going through a divorce. König could care less about her personal life or anyones.

She got up a left after his session while the guards took him to his room. The psychiatrist told the staff to give König his medication, but they all took a step back. She ask for his nurse, but they all stood quiet until one spoke up and said that König doesn't have a nurse, his last nurse died and it has been hard for them to find a new one.

She quickly made her way to the administrator's office and plead for a new nurse. The administrator told her no so she spread her legs and he quickly said yes. After all she didn't want to be the next victim of his so a nurse should do.

Then you came along. Sweet and innocent you. You took the job when you saw the job opening on their website and it was perfect timing. You just moved here and needed a job asap. After you graduated you worked at a hospital for a year until the bills and rent went up and the pay stayed low so when you found out that a facility needed a new nurse with triple the pay, you took it.

You waved at the receptionist hello while clutching the strap of your crossbody bag. "Hello, I'm looking for the administrator, I'm (Y/n). I'm the new Rn"

"Oh miss (Y/n)." He gave you a hesitant smile which caught you off guard, but you didn't think too much. I mean the receptionist has seen so many new nurses come in go fast, but you didn't need to know that, do you? "The administrator is waiting for you in his office."

"Okay thank you." You signal some confusion to the receptionist. "Um?"

"It's down to your right, left office." He said hand signaling the directions.

You gave him a smile and quickly headed to the office by giving a few knocks until you heard a male voice telling you to come in.

The men stood, shook your hand and told you that a fellow nurse was going to give you a rundown about how things work.

You followed the nurse has he took you to the floor you'll be working on. This will definitely be different then working at a hospital. He told you where the nurses station is and the name of the doctors that come to see the patients aswell as the patients themselves. However, your only worry is one patient in particular. König.

He showed you where his room. "This is where he stays. Now, you have to be careful with him. Can't turn your back on him. Don't leave anything near him and don't be near him in general."

'Don't be near him. How will you give his medication if you can't be near him'

"If you feel like your in danger, don't hesitate to scream for help, besides the door will always be open when you go in and two guards have to be with you at all times if you go inside his room. Don't make small talk to him, don't give him anything unless it has been confirmed with the heard nurse here. Which is me okay."

You nodded in understanding of the situation. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to a place away from everyone else. "Look I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like you deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, okay."

"Okay." You responded.

"The last few nurses that attended him always ended up getting killed by him. He is the reason why we always need a new nurse."

'So that's why the pay is higher'

"If you want to quit I don't blame you, but you should know what you're getting yourself into." He whispered to you.

Are you scared? I mean the fact that you can die is. Either stay and get paid or go back and be in debt, which one is better? "Thank you," you looked at his tag, "Jacob"

"No problem. Oh and Dr. Smith is his psychiatrist so whatever she tells you, you do. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she only comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays or if there is a tragic emergency."

You gave him one last okay before he went back to his computer. You looked around and saw how many guards there are in the floor. More guards than nurses.

You saw docotrs leaving the patients rooms, you strolled around getting to know the facility. You went to the locker room and quickly placed your bag inside while fixing your scrubs and your hair. You head your way the nurse's station ready to do what you need to do. They started you off by you giving medication and taking vitals to some patients, just for you to get the hang of it as well as report anything back to their medical files and re-learn how to work the system. Jacob gave you a little index card with the information you need about König. Mainly how to give his medication. As for needles, a guard has to hold him down.

"(Y/n)" Jacob called for in the desk area. You went up to him. "This will be your work space, you are in charge of these patients, which includes König." He showed you the list of patients which is not a few compared to others. "The biggest one is König, which is why you don't have a much. All their routines are the same. Sometimes the patient will call out for you."

"How?" Not like they have a control to call for assistance.

"A guard will come and tell you. Everything else is pretty straight forward all of their medical history is in their charts aswell as their medication and their dose. They all share the same doctor who comes by every few months, unless they need medical attention. You get the gist right?"

"Yes." You said staring at the computer screen.

"Good. All the medical supplies are back here." He pointed to the big beige cabinet that is behind you. "And obviously the patients medication are in their and here are the keys." You looked at what the computer was placed, a big drawer each with a key hole and a sticker of the patients name on each one. "If you have any question, feel free to ask me."

You nodded and did what you are paid to do. You quickly got the hang of things. Lunch came in quick as you saw the kitchen staff making their way to the dining room area. The guards went in took all patients to the area ready for them to eat. They two went in and brought out König. He was wearing the usual white t-shirt with the white sweatpants. Part of his hair was tied back into a low ponytail while the rest hanged loosely to his face. He doesn't have long hair, but not short either. He turned his head towards you. You can see his eyes as they stared at you.

König didn't smile, didn't frown. He was intrigued.

You looked back into the computer and quickly pulled up his file. Ex- Military, age to be around 40. Austrian. Can speak German. Suffers from severe social anxiety. Blood type AB. Activities in the facility- arts and crafts. Suffered from multiple injuries during his deployment. History of broken arm, leg, stab wounds.

'Ex- Military. No wonder.'

After lunch it was time to give them their meds. You went to do your round, checking their vitals and giving them their medication. You made your way towards König's room. The two guards opened the door widley while one entered in. König saw you as he sat on his bed legs slightly spread open while his triceps rested on his things. His head hanged low but peaked up when you entered.

You took out the aneroid Sphygmomanometer. You made your way towards him. Already doing something they warned you about. His eye sight followed your figure. You were too nervous to look at his face. If you don't look at him then nothing bad will happen. König stared at you as you place opened the cuff and wanting to place it on his bicep. You were honestly doubting that the cuff was going to fit around his bicep, compared to yours it was like comparing a mountain vs a sand castle.

He moved his bicep slightly up for you too take a better look. The guards gave eachother looks as if he never done this before. You wrapped the cuff around his bicep, not wrapping too tight. You felt bicep, they're hard. Hard as a rock. You pressed on the little latex bulb, giving it a few squeeze while checking the gaudge. When you got the results, you wrote it down quickly.

As for König, he didn't do anything, he just watched. He watched as you came near him. To check his tempt, his heart rate. He saw you bringing the little Dixie cup with his medication. He felt the guards stiffen knowing this is the part where he will either snap your neck or crack your skull open with ease.

You placed the cup on to the little table you have to take with you with all the supplies you need and rolled it near him. Your guess is that he snaps when someone wants to drug him. Ex- Military, you won't be surprised he they forced him to take some sort of drugs while fighting off his enemies. "It's okay. This one is to calm your nerves, I know they can hard to deal with. Trust me I know. I'll give you the one that will help you sleep at night so you can't get comfortable."

He took the cup and threw the pill inside his mouth, quickly swallowing it. The little cup is so tiny compared to his hands you couldn't even see the cup. He placed the cup back onto the table. "Thank you." You said to him while walking out of his room. As soon as you heard the guards shutting the door you felt the nervousness leaving your body.

König laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt a smile on his face.

He haven't felt this way in a long time. Quite frankly never.

You are definitely getting in his interest.

#yandere könig #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #fanfic #konig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig #könig x y/n

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 month

Text

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

Dbf!Jake Seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin smut #x reader #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut

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kalki-tarot · 3 months

Text

A conversation between you and your future spouse – timeless pac 💌

Disclaimer : this reading is for entertainment purposes only and does not guarantee any possible outcomes. Tarot is not 100% correct all the times. Your life is in your hands and you are responsible for your own actions and decisions.

Pile one 💫

This situation seems like some third party is affecting your relationship. The third party can be anything from people to things to addictions etc. You assumed thay future spouse may have lied to you about something which caused a fight between you guys. Remember that fights are normal in a relationship. And can be resolved with proper communication and understanding.

Your fs : See, I'm too disappointed with this situation and i deeply regret it. But you see, it's not entirely my fault..

You : I'm completely heartbroken because of you

Your fs : I clearly left and ignored that woman when she approached me darling, I walked away! I don't even know that woman!

Your anger calms down when your fs explains themselves. And you feel relieved. You may have insecurities about your fs leaving you for some other woman, so you got angry.

You : You know that I'm scared of you leaving me alone for someone else

Your fs : I know that, and i will never leave you sweetheart! Do you get that!? Don't get insecure about anything. I'm always yours. You are my better half and you are the only one with whom i feel at home, at peace.

Your fs comforts you and tells you how much you mean to them and you need not worry about anything or anyone. They also hug you and rub your back for sometime. This situation may take place while you guys are on a trip or traveling somewhere.

Pile two 💫

Wow, this conversation will take place when you are getting married or about to get married to your fs. You are happy and excited but you are also having racing thoughts and a restless heart. You are just feeling nervous about the whole thing, some of you guys actually suffer from overthinking and anxiety. And you are having intrusive thoughts at this moment.

Your fs : Hey honey ~ why are you standing there all alone? Come! Have fun with all our friends and relatives. Let's have a drink together ^^

You just stand there silent and say : Umh, I'm actually kinda scared.. to get married i guess..? This all seems to fast to me. I'm having intrusive thoughts, my mind is thinking of all the possibilities ahh! I'm getting frustrated... this feels like a big change for me. It's not that i don't want to get married with you it's just.. too fast for me!

Your fs : Hey hey hey! Calm down! I'm here for you. This may feel too fast but think of how joyful you were when we first decided to get married! It's a new beginning for both of us, i can understand you. You just need to relax. Don't worry about anything, I'll take the lead and do everything for you. You just take a deep breathe and calm yourself.

Your fs calms you down and assures you. You feel better when you hear them talk about taking care of you well. And you know from the deep corners of your heart that they will make a good spouse. Your anxiety feels relieved. And you are happy to have them in your life as a counterpart.

Pile 03 💫

This conversation can happen when you are going through a tough time in regards of your career. You are struggling between work and deadlines. You are completely exhausted but you are still working hard. Even people in your workplace may not appreciate you enough and you feel disappointed with yourself.

Your fs : hey nerd ;) where your eyes lookin' at? Come let's have some fun, take a break would you? Let's go out somewhere shall we?

You : Can you please not disturb me? I'm doing something important rn. And I'm not going anywhere till i finish this !

You frown and continue with your work. Your fs notices that.

Your fs : what happened dear? Is everything alright ? Are you stressed about anything?

You : yes! I am! Anything to do with you?

Your fs : why are u getting mad sweetie? 😋

You : AHHAHASAHAH, I'm so f**king stressed about this damn work i have to do. no one even notices my hardwork and patience! I'm sick of this!

Your fs : I appreciate you, your family appreciates you and you should change your godamn job if it keeps you hurting all the time yk? You have so much money already you should start some business or smth.

You : You know what! You are absolutely correct. I should start something of my own.

Your fs motivated you to leave your toxic work environment and start something of your own.

#tarot reading #tarot blog #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #tarot and astrology #tarot asks #pick a pile #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarot readings #future spouse reading #free tarot #twin flame #divine feminine #future spouse #psychic readings

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mcu-coworkers · 10 months

Text

Enough for you

Summary: You realized that maybe Miguel isn't who you thought he was.

Word count:1k+

warnings: Sad reader, Sad Miguel:(

Tag list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @munixumai @deputy-videogamer @blueberry-thrawn @neteyamsluvts @um-well @stinygirl009 @marcswife21 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @juleshadalittlelamb @taygrls @tanchosanke @chuckle-nuts

A/n: Hello everyone and welcome to part two of “you?” I will most positively be making a part three coming very soon! Thank you all for reading! (I listened to the sour album while writing this series rough drafts)

Parts: One Two^ Three Four

Credits to the creator^

That night you cried yourself to sleep.

Partially because Miguel completely shot you down and partially because you left your friends and suit forever.

You couldn't bear to bring back the suit or go back to HQ knowing what you knew.

You could never face Miguel or any spider again.

You wanted to so desperately let it all go and forget.

But above all else there was a city that needed you and you’d always be there for them no matter what heartbreak comes your way.

In this moment, you wished you were as heartless as miguel.

Back at HQ Miguel was looking through endless security footage on all possible earths miles could have been on.

Truth was he needed a second pair of eyes.

“Lyla.” he barked out.

“Yes, boss.” she responded, appearing on his shoulder.

“Call y/n.” he said, pausing the footage to rub his eyes.

He could take advantage of this time to apologize.

“No can do.” she replied being short with him. To be fully honest Lyla had also had enough of his shit.

“What? Lyla it wasn't a question go get me Y/n. Now.” he said, not having the energy to deal with her jokes.

“No. Miguel, you don’t-” she tried again but he cut her off.

“Fine. I ‘ll go get her my fucking self.” he said swinging towards the door.

“She's gone, Miguel. And it's all your fault.” Lyla said behind him.

He froze,“What?” finding your watch and your suit he stopped thinking.

“She quit. Not just the spider society, she quit being a spider entirely. Because of what you said.” Lyla finished.

“ I didnt- I didnt mean it..” he said, clutching your suit in his hand.

“Well you said it anyway and it hurt her.” She responded, “And if I were her I‘d probably never come back too, she deserved better Miguel. Why did you lie?” she asked confused as to why he denied himself the chance of love.

“ I was angry I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t mean it.” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah well you sold it as far as keeping up an act goes.” she said, sighing.

Miguel could always fix his mistakes. This would be a first.

Sighing he stood straight and turned back to his desk.

Miguel had a decision to make, you or the fate of the multiverse.

It's like he said, there's no room for that kind of stuff for guys like him.

Once again he was right.

“Get Ben and Jess in here and have them start with earth 42.” he said, sounding more defeated than ever.

Still, he was clutching your suit as if you were still in it. Your scent lingering.

“Yes, boss.” was all Lyla could muster up at the moment.

Her artificial heart was breaking for the both of you. He was so close to telling you she could feel it.

It just wasn't his strongest moment.

Neither was this one as he took out his anger on the poor monitor that happened to be in his way.

Back at home you laid in bed trying to find the motivation to get back up but the truth was you didn't want to.

Everytime you tried to create a new suit you just heard Miguel's abusive words like it was the first time all over again.

And it just made you want to hide under the blankets forever.

Your spidey senses went off and then there came the portal.

You knew it wasn't Miguel, he could never.

“Hey webby? You alright in there?” you heard.

Peter.

Taking the covers off you came face to face with an exhausted Peter and a sleeping May Day.

“Heard what happened at HQ just wanted to check in if that's okay.” he added wondering if he could take a step closer.

“ I really screwed it up this time pete.” you said wiping the tears away for the millionth time.

God you felt pathetic.

“No way kid, that was all him. You know that right.” he said sitting next to you.

“ I should’ve been there. But even if I was, I don't know if I‘d be on his side. Miles is just a kid, We’ve all been there right?” you asked. Thinking this way makes you feel guilty.

You should stand behind Miguel at all times.

But now what did it matter you’d never step foot in HQ ever again anyways.

“You're allowed to think whatever you want. He can't take that from you.” Peter reassured me.

He was right.

“You think you’ll ever come back?” he asked, he almost entirely knew the answer but he still held out hope for you.

“ I don't think so Pete, I‘m sorry.” you said looking down in shame.

The reality was you could never face him again.

“Don’t be I wouldn't stand for that either I ‘m pretty sure a lot of us are done for too anyways but listen, you’re never going to be alone.” he said putting a hand on your shoulder.

“If you ever decide to come back not just as spider woman, but to the society, just know you have people in your corner.” he said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thanks pete.” you said as he stood opening a portal.

“Hey pete?” you called out.

Turning back to you he waited for you to continue.

“Don’t ever stop sending me Pictures of May Day. I need my daily serotonin boost.” you said with a soft smile earning yourself a chuckle in return.

“Never kid.” he said as he walked his way into the portal.

A soon as he was gone you went back under the covers and took a deep breath.

Peeking your head out from under the cover you looked at the picture you had framed on your wall.

It was of you receiving the key to the city.

Your city, the one you saved day and night.

Whenever it called for you.

You earned that key the same way you earned the title of spider-woman.

And you weren’t gonna let some words take that from you.

Wiping the fresh tears away you got out of bed putting Miguel's words in the back of your head and got to designing.

You were bigger than his words and you’d prove it.

In that moment you promised you’d make him regret ever making you feel like you’re not good enough.

One day he’s gonna feel sorry for himself.

And one day you’ll be everything to somebody else.

And he’ll be the one who's crying.

Yeah, one day.

*If you’d like to be added to the tagslist just let me know I am more than happy to :)

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #Miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider-man 2099 #marvel #Oscar Isaac

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soupangel · 2 months

Text

Drunk - Gojo Satoru

tags: established relationship, fluff, drunk reader, mentions of alcohol

wc:529

Synopsis: You come home drunk from a night out with Shoko missing Gojo

a/n: did I proof read this? no. I hope you enjoy!

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Shoko had called Gojo earlier to let him know you were coming home earlier than expected. So he had a feeling you’d be coming home drunk, but he wasn’t expecting this. He watches as Shoko struggles to get you out of the cab. You’re crying about something, but from where he’s standing, Gojo can’t hear what.

“Cmon y/n get out of the car,” Gojo hears Shoko say as she lightly tugs on your arm. “Don’t you want to see Gojo?” Shoko continues.

Gojo sees your head snap up at the sound of his name. He chuckles at how you stopped crying and looked up at Shoko. He sees you nod your head as you let Shoko help you out of the cab. You’re putting most of your weight onto Shoko as she helps you walk up the pathway to the front door. As soon as you're close enough to recognize Gojo standing in the doorway, you gasp and let go of Shoko to run towards him.

“Gojo!” you shout.

He rushes forward to catch you before you fall. Once you realize you're in his arms, you wrap into what Gojo can only describe as a bone-crushing hug. After catching his breath, he wraps his arms around you as well, only in a less bone crushing manner.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He rubs your back as he asks you, realizing you had started crying again.

Before you have a chance to answer him, Shoko interrupts. “You happened. She wouldn’t shut up about you the entire night.”

“It’s not my fault I’m such a great boyfriend.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But you owe me for tonight. I didn’t just spend my money to hear about you all night. I hear about you enough at work for free.”

“Alright, Alright, I know where to send it.” He laughs, readjusting his grip on you to help move you inside.

“Thanks for helping her get home!” He shouts to her before she gets back in the cab to go home. She just waves in response, giving them both a small smile.

“Bye Shoko!” you yell, finally speaking up, having just been enjoying the feeling of Gojo’s arms wrapped around you. She laughs and then gets in the cab to head home.

Gojo turns to help you walk inside, helping you take off your shoes once you were in the entryway. It seemed like by the time you made it to the bathroom; you were already half asleep with how limp your body was. Gojo sat you on the toilet seat and gently lifted your head so he could see your face. You weren’t asleep at all. Once he took a look at your face, he could see you smiling up at him.

“What’s got you so smiley?”

You hum for what seems like a minute before you finally answer him.

“I just missed you today,” you slur. “It feels like I haven’t seen you for like a million years.”

“You saw me just before you left with Shoko.” He laughs.

You shake your head back and forth in disagreement. “nuh uh it was a million years ago”

“Allright, if you say so,” he says as he goes to wet a rag to clean your face.

“mhm, I do say so.”

He doesn't speak again until he finishes wiping your face and it’s time to get you changed into your pajamas. To save him the hassle of helping you change in the bedroom, only for you to fall asleep as soon as he sets you down on the bed. He decides to bring your pajamas to where you’re already sat and awake.

He walks back in on you in the same spot he left you in, sitting on the toilet with your head tilted up. He knows you’ll be complaining of a sore neck tomorrow.

“Come on, it’s time to get changed.” He said, while lifting your shirt over your head.

“sir yes sir.” you say along with a sloppy salute, helping him by putting your arms in the sleeves of your pajama top.

Once on, he then helps you put on your pants. He’s glad he had you stay sitting for most of it because he could just imagine the amount of heart attacks he’d have while you drunkenly stand on one foot at a time. He takes your now clothed arms and wraps them around his neck to steady you as you both walk towards the bedroom.

“Time for bed now. We both have work tomorrow. Did you forget that while you were out with Shoko?” he said.

“I didn’t forget. I could never forget about my favorite students.”

“They’re your only students.”

“oh yeah.” you giggle.

He pulls the blankets up onto the bed before he helps you lie down on top of the sheets. Tucking you in once you get comfortable in your spot. He goes to walk over to his side of the bed when you hurriedly grab his wrist.

“wait where are you going? I haven’t seen you in a million years, remember?” you whine. And it takes all of Gojos’ willpower to not burst out in laughter. He gently takes your hand in his as he says,

“I’m just going to get in bed. Ill be right next to you.”

you pause.

“oh ok. but hurry!”

This time he does let out a small laugh as he makes a show of him jogging to the other side of the bed in the most hilarious way possible. Once he does, make in into bed, you're immediately tucking yourself in his arms. He makes a mental note to tell Yaga you won’t be coming in tomorrow because he knows how hungover you’ll be. He imagines this time around you’ll be in the same spot he left you in when he gets home.

“Goodnight. Love you.” he says

“I love you more”

“No, I love you more” he responds back deciding to entertain you.

“No way, I love you more” you say, dragging out the ‘no’.

“okay its time to sleep now.” he shushes you.

“But it’s true.” You mumble on the verge of sleep.

“we’ll agree to disagree, but you need to sleep now.”

He starts rubbing his hand along the length of your back to urge you to sleep. It only takes two minutes before you lightly snoring in his arms.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! I would love to know what you thought!!

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru

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zeltqz · 4 months

Text

it girl | sanzu h.

synopsis. you find sanzu after a fight at a party and end up introducing yourself and helping him patch up. turns out sanzu isn't as extroverted when it comes to speaking to girls, rindou finds out.

contains. smut, first time (sanzu's a virgin), nervous sanzu, bold reader, mentions of violence, busted lips, bruised knuckles, kantou!manji era, nude/explicit photos, oral (m), sanzu gets head for the first time, koko rindou and sanzu are best friends idc.

author's note. sanzu's so pretty but i just know that boy has never felt the touch of a woman, hence why i wrote this lmfao. call it a power move or whatever 🙄 (i wanna see more submissive sanzu honestly). fanart credits: caravaggist

“My head is fucking killing me,” Sanzu said with a pained groan. He began coughing until he started laughing, running purely on adrenaline. “I beat that fucker’s ass, didja see that?!”

“Shut up, stop being so loud.” Sanzu winced when Rindou smacked him upside the head. He looked down at his busted, bruised knuckles and cursed. “We’re so fucking dead.”

“Told you not to drink that much,” Koko sniped, gesturing with his chin over at Sanzu. “Got us into a goddamn fight.”

“Not my fault you guys are such wimps.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Koko doubled over to catch his breath, slumping against a car.

“Are you guys okay?” you called out, steadily approaching the three boys.

Your heart nearly stopped when they all turned to meet your eyes, but there was one you couldn’t take your eyes off of the most. He had green eyes and crazy pink hair tied up into a ponytail. You’d been eyeing him for the majority of the party, just small glances over at whichever end he was loudly talking at. The entire time you had been taking extra shots for courage to approach him but pussied out each time. When you were upstairs, there was loud shouting, chanting, and the sound of things breaking as a group of boys managed to get into a fight. You didn’t see the full thing, only coming down the stairs the exact moment you saw the three of them run outside, tearing down the street and around the block in record time. A quick scan of the party, you saw the pink haired guy was no longer there, so your feet went running before you could even think of what you were doing.

He was much prettier up close, an ethereal kind of beauty you rarely ever see. Not many people can rock long pink hair but he manages to make it work well.

You ran out, taking off after them. It was a miracle you found them, having guessed which direction they must’ve took off in.

“Who are you?” Kokonoi asked, looking strangely at you.

“I was at the party,” you gestured down the street, “and saw everything. Are you guys okay?” you repeated, walking a little closer to the group.

Kokonoi’s hostility dropped down a few notches and he nodded. Rindou shrugged and rolled his neck, trying to ease away the stiffness residing in his bones. Sanzu, on the other hand, just stared at you dumbfoundedly. He didn’t say a word, just stared at you with half wide eyes that only widened when you met his gaze. You held eye contact for a few seconds before looking down at his knuckles. Out of the three, Sanzu was probably the most roughed up, having done the most the entire fight and caught the most strays. His lip was busted and his knuckles were bruised.

“Oh that looks really bad. One second,” you said, pulling out a tissue from your pocket “Can I?” you asked, looking into his eyes. He doesn’t say yes or no, and Rindou isn’t even sure he’s breathing anymore. He doesn’t stop you as you hold his bruised hand and lift it up to your face for examination.

You placed the tissue onto his knuckles. “I’m sorry that happened by the way. I don’t know how it started but I’m sure you guys didn’t deserve it.”

Kokonoi snorted and Rindou elbows him roughly. “Eh it’s whatever. Bottom line is we won, so.”

“You guys shouldn’t be fighting like that though. Especially in public. The police got called and are probably on their way here.”

“Wait seriously?!” Kokonoi whipped his head up at you and you nodded. He cursed under his breath. “We better get going again. Don’t wanna have to get bailed out again.”

Again?

“True that,” Rindou agreed, dusting off his pants. His head was pounding and he might probably have a concussion, but all that didn’t matter to him. He just needed to get out of here. “Call Ran, he’ll come pick us up.”

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Kokonoi replied.

“Better him than Mikey.”

“But—”

You tuned out the rest of their conversation and continued dabbing Sanzu’s knuckles, who still hadn’t said a single word since you approached. You blinked up at him and removed the bag from his hand.

“Your lip is bleeding,” you announced, and he almost flinched away when your thumb rose to his lip. “Does it hurt?” He shook his head. “Can I put this on your lip?” You shook the tissue in your hand.

He nodded slowly and your smile nearly sent him straight to heaven. You pulled a water bottle from your purse and wet the tissue, pressing it on his lip and held onto his chin, tipping his head upright so you could see what you were doing better. Granted the tissue probably weren’t helping at all, but you had to work with what you had.

“This looks really painful,” you murmured, fixated on the damages done to his face. He has these two pairs of twin scars on both sides of his mouth that you think are so cute. Without thinking, you let your thumb trace the diamond outline gently. You pull the tissue away from his lip and pocket it. “Does your lip hurt?”

Sanzu shook his head and you smiled. “That’s good.”

Rindou looked over at Sanzu weirdly, wondering why the loudest person in the group was suddenly so quiet. He didn’t have time to explore that train of thought deeper because Kokonoi spoke up.

“Rin, Sanzu. Ran’s on his way now. Let’s go.” He pocketed his phone and turned to you. “Thanks for the warning about the cops by the way. Really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem.”

A black car pulled up to the curb and the window rolled down. “You three are so fucking dead,” Ran said exasperatedly.

“As long as Mikey doesn’t find out we’re goo—” Kokonoi’s relief came crumbling down as his biggest fear came to light. The passenger seat window rolled down and Mikey’s face came into view. He didn’t look mad, honestly he didn’t look like anything. Just emotionless, but that was enough to scare the absolute shit out of Koko. “Boss, we can explain—”

“Get in the car.”

Kokonoi swallowed but obliged, his feet dragging behind him as he walked around the car to get in.

You looked back over at Sanzu who’s eyes hadn't left yours. “Guess this is goodbye. I’m (Name) by the way. What’s yours?”

Whatever reaction anyone was expecting, it wasn’t for Sanzu to completely stammer over his words, forgetting who he was, or how to form a literate sentence. “Me name? Who is—I—what, huh?”

Rindou looked at him like he grew two heads, even Mikey raised a confused brow. You pressed your lips together in a thin line to stop yourself from laughing and Sanzu’s ears burnt with humiliation. Frankly he was mortified with those being the first words he’s said to you ever. Rindou thankfully saved him from more embarrassment by grabbing the back of his collar hard.

“His name is Sanzu by the way,” he told you before dragging him towards the car, kicking him into the backseat. The door slammed shut and you watched as Rindou entered the front next to his brother and then the car pulled off, recklessly rounding the corner.

You stayed there for a minute, blinking, then smiled giddily down at the floor before making your way back to your friends inside.

~*~

“Yeah they’ve definitely got a concussion,” the nurse said, snapping her gloves off. She stepped away from the three boys at the table and handed them each plastic cups of water. “Make sure you drink plenty of water and get plenty of rest.”

“Thanks doc.” Mikey wrote her a check and she nodded, thanking him before exiting the room. He looked at the three in them in disappointment. They each had an annoying habit of crashing random parties going on in the street and getting shit faced, then turning up to work and events hungover or too exhausted. Now they have hit the final nail in the coffin by getting in a physical altercation with strangers and the police are probably looking for their asses right now.

“I have nothing to say to you three. You heard the woman, get plenty of rest,” he scolded before leaving the room.

“Who wants to bet the medical bills are coming out of our paycheck?” Rindou asked, sliding off the table. He rubbed his head exhaustedly and yawned.

“I might just have a heart attack if I see that,” Kokonoi responded, shuddering.

“That girl…” Sanzu muttered under his breath, scratching his chin.

“What?”

“That girl,” he repeated louder as if he just came to a sudden realisation, “was a fucking angel!”

“Oh. Welcome back to earth Mr. Who me is name I what?” Rindou mocked, amusement written all over his face as Sanzu rolled his eyes.

Kokonoi laughed loudly. “Oh yeah! What the fuck was that all about?”

“Shut up,” Sanzu grumbled and closed his eyes, blocking their mockery out. He tried to picture your face again behind his closed lids but the concussion was slowly getting worse and your face was starting to fade from his memory. “I need to find this girl and redeem myself. What’s her name?” he said snipply, snapping his fingers at the two boys for them to hurry up.

“Stop being a weirdo. You probably blew your chances anyway,” Rindou stated.

“Nah uh! It wasn’t that bad!”

“Who me is name I what?” Kokonoi repeated and Sanzu groaned loudly.

“Keep making fun of me whatever! But when I find her and make her my future wife I don’t want to hear shit from any of you.”

“Wow,” Kokonoi fake gasped. “You can tell your future kids the story of how you met!”

“Future wife huh?” Rindou chuckled. “So we’re just skipping past girlfriend?”

“Gotta aim big.”

Kokonoi shook his head. “That girl wants nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah? Well why did she patch me up and not you two fucking idiots then? HUH?” Sanzu gestured to his busted lip. The two boys had nothing else to say and just rolled their eyes, muttering whatever under their breath. “Exactly, shut the fuck up.”

Sanzu traced his scars with his finger. He could still feel the gentle trail of your finger on his skin and closed his eyes once more, picturing you in front of him, staring up at him with such care in your eyes as you genuinely found yourself worried at his injuries. He looked down at his knuckles, still bruised, and pictured your hand in his. He regretted not saying more to you earlier, regretted not actually having a conversation with you and telling him his injuries looked worse than they actually felt.

Sanzu stood up and Rindou called out to him. “Oi. Where the hell are you going? We’re heading back to mines.”

“I’m going back to that party to redeem myself.”

“It’s been like an hour and it’s almost three am. She’s long gone. Let it go.”

Sanzu shook his head, condescendingly clicking his tongue in a way that ground Rindou’s gears. “Don’t be jealous Rin.”

“Jealous of?”

“I got a girl that wants me for me, not my dick.”

“That’s something only a virgin would say,” Kokonoi inputs, laughing when Sanzu instantly closes his mouth. “No way, are you actually a virgin?”

“No I’m not!”

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not!”

“Who’d you lose it to?”

Sanzu scoffs. “Like anyone remembers that,”

“Okay playboy.” Rindou laughs. “I remember mine.”

“So do I,” Kokonoi high fives Rindou. The two of them look at Sanzu. “Well? What’s her name?”

“I was high. Don’t remember,” Sanzu shrugs. Rindou looks over at Koko who both equally look unimpressed. “ANYWAY! It doesn’t matter because I’m going to find that girl and redeem myself tonight.”

Kakucho enters the room. “Find what girl?”

“Redeem yourself for what?” Kokonoi asks.

Rindou laughs even louder. “Redeem himself for “Oh friend who I am what?””

Sanzu’s ears burn when Koko joins in the laughter. “Alright so just forget my question. Cool,” Kakucho rolls his eyes.

“Sanzu got us into a fight tonight and some girl helped him with his busted lip and now he thinks he’s in love.”

“I don’t think—”

“We know,” Kokonoi interrupts.

Sanzu shoots him a glare. “If you’d let me finish,” he says snarkily. “I don’t think I'm in love. I know I am.”

“In love with a girl you don’t even know the name of?” Kakucho asks hesitantly. He should be used to this by now honestly, it's not the first time Sanzu got hyper fixated over something, except in this case it's someone. In actuality, he should be worried for this girl, knowing how obsessive Sanzu gets at times. Picturing the boy in a relationship was something Kakucho just could not do no matter how hard he tries.

“I’ll find her name. You forget who I am and what I do in this goddamn organisation?”

“Aside from dragging us to useless parties and getting us involved in unnecessary fights?” Rindou asked.

“You had fun tonight, stop acting like you hated it that bad,” Sanzu complained.

“What did this girl look like?” Kakucho asks.

Sanzu describes your appearance from your height all the way down to your eye colour, recounting to his friends every single detail he managed to observe about you the entire time he spent staring at you. They all looked at him with concern. Sanzu noticed their glare and shrugged. “What?”

“Surprised you didn’t count every single lash of hers honestly,” Kokonoi rubbed his forehead exhaustedly when his head pounded again. “This headache is killing me. Gonna head home.”

They all said goodbye and waited for him to leave the room.

“I think I know the girl,” Kakucho said, recounting the horrifying moment of Sanzu describing you in as much detail as possible.

“WHAT?!” Sanzu exclaimed far too loudly for his head and Rindou’s to handle, a sharp pain shooting their heads. “Ah fuck,” he groaned, rubbing his head.

“Are you serious?” Rindou asked, looking at Kakucho who nodded.

“Yeah. Someone like that lives on my floor. I see her leaving every morning.”

“To Kakucho’s we go!” Sanzu grinned, grabbing the younger boy's hand and dragging him outside. Rindou reluctantly follows behind them, wanting to see where this situation was heading.

Kakucho ended up being right, and when they entered the lobby of his apartment, they saw you collecting your mail. Sanzu’s feet felt frozen to the floor as he just stared at your side profile. He almost had a stroke when you turned to face in his direction, and he swore you were looking directly at him when you broke out into a smile, waving your hand.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said and Sanzu was confused. It’s only been a few hours, hasn’t it?

You were walking and he stood up a little straight when it looked like you were heading towards his direction, only for his heart to do a complete 360 when you hugged Kakucho instead. It wasn’t an affectionate hug, both your hands barely lingered on each other’s body, just an awkward side hug that lasted barely 2 seconds.

“Yeah, you know. I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”

“Ah cool cool. I’ve been collecting your mail though.” You handed him his mail. He thanked you and held them under his arm.

You looked at two boys next to them and then gasped. “Oh its you!” You pointed between Sanzu and Rindou, who only nodded, asking how you’ve been. Sanzu was frozen again as you and Rindou gave each other basic small talk, only breaking out of his stupor when Rindou elbowed him hard in the stomach.

You bit down a laugh when you saw Sanzu clutch onto his stomach in pain. “Oh my god, are you alright?” Sanzu could hear the laugh in your voice, but didn’t feel offended the slightest.

“I’m good, yeah. Just distracted.”

“Oh. Am I boring you?”

He was too scared of the fact you thought that about him to notice the playful hint in your voice. “No! Not at all. I just have a concussion that's all.”

“No way. Does it hurt? Are you okay?” You hesitantly lift your hand up and press it on his forehead which is burning up. “You need to get some sleep right now.”

“It’s too late to drive right now.” Kakucho says. “You two can just sleep at mine.”

“Only if I get your bed,” Sanzu adds.

“Fuck that. Sleep on the couch.”

“But I’m concussed.”

“And who’s goddamn fault is that?”

Sanzu rolled his eyes. Kakucho sighed. “Fine. You can get the bed.”

“Let’s fucking go,” Sanzu grinned and started heading towards the elevator. The other two boys followed them and Kakucho looked behind at you.

“You coming?”

Sanzu pressed the button and turned to look at you and Kakucho as you shook your head. “No, I'm heading back out.”

“Right now?” Kakucho says and looks at his watch, “It’s almost 4 am?”

“I know,” you sigh exhaustedly. “My friend, well kinda friend, I guess wants me to come to his house. Just got his text a few minutes ago.”

“At this hour?” Kaku says sceptically.

“So a booty call?” Rindou says and gets elbowed by Kakucho, telling him to mind his business.

You laugh. “I guess if that's what you want to call it. I don’t sleep with him, he just uses me to impress his friends it feels like.” Your eyes slide over to Sanzu who has a scowl on his face and looks away almost immediately after you make eye contact. “I don’t wanna do it but he scares me so I feel like I have to.”

“What’s his name?” Kakucho asks.

“Why? You gonna hurt him?” you ask back. Though you and Kakucho are only neighbours at best, you’re well aware of what he does and his reputation around town. The Brawler is his nickname, or was, back when he was in Tenjiku. But you didn’t know what his role or job entailed, all you knew he was in some shady shit and you wanted no part of it.

“Depends if I know the guy or not.”

You roll your eyes. “His name is Osanai.”

“Wait a minute,” Rindou says, “Is he tall? Smokes all the time, blonde hair? Kinda tan?”

“Yeah…” you say slowly, sceptically, “how’d you know?”

“We’ve actually been kinda looking for that guy. Mikey wanted to see him, didn't he?” Rindou asks Kakucho who shrugs and points over to Sanzu who’s been awfully quiet the entire time. “Didn’t he?” Rindou asks Sanzu again.

“Oh. Yes he has.” He looks up and meets your gaze one more time before looking away.

“Where’s he at?” Rindou asks, approaching you.

“I dunno probably his house?”

“Okay but where genius.”

You give him Osanai’s address and he starts heading outside. “Wait! Don’t kill him or something.”

“Why do you care what we do? Doesn’t he scare you?”

“I mean yes but that doesnt mean I want him dead…”

Kakucho sighs. “Sanzu wait here with (y/n), me and Rindou will sort this out.”

Sanzu instantly looks at Kakucho. “Wait—”

“Just do it,” Rindou snickers before the two of them leave. Sanzu watches them go with a betrayed look on his face, already thinking of 101 different ways to kill Rindou once he got back home. You look up at Sanzu and smile at him.

“So…you can go home if you want. I don't need a babysitter.”

“No it's fine I'll uh wait here.”

“We can go back to mine?” you ask a little hopeful.

Sanzu opens his mouth to speak but the words can't seem to come out. He resorts to nodding and you smile, taking his hand in yours and walking up to your apartment.

~*~

Three hours in and you’ve been binging shitty movies together, laughing at the bad plot and horribly written characters. When you first saw Sanzu at the party, he was outgoing and the life of the room honestly. Maybe your opinion is a bit biased because you were focused on nothing but him, but he had this energy that attracted you to him. Now, in front of you, he’s nothing like he was a few hours ago, he seems shy and reserved, keeping to himself but he’s still funny and cracks a few jokes that make you cackle every now and then.

“Wait you got a little, i’ll get it for you,” you say, cupping his chin and turning his face to you. He watches you with wide eyes as your thumb comes up to his lip and wipes some tomato sauce off. you make continuous eye contact with him as you bring your thumb to your mouth and lick the sauce off the tip. Then, you almost give the guy a heart attack when you go back in with your wet thumb and wipe the remnants of the sauce on the corner of his mouth.

His pizza flops in his hand and something else rises in his pants as you pull back, sitting reasonably closer than you did before, resting your head on his shoulder, continuing to watch the movie. It’s hard for him to even focus on the TV with you sitting this close to him right now. He can smell your shampoo, your perfume, can feel your body heat warming him up and he’s actually going to pass out if you continue clinging to his arm like that. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat a little, hoping his boner goes down and praying you don’t see it.

Just to be on the safe side, he nonchalantly grabs a couch cushion and places it on his lap, claiming he's cold. You don’t buy it one bit but only smirk at the hidden implications. You let out a fake yawn and shift even closer to him, bringing your feet onto the couch, shifting into a lying position.

You look up at Sanzu and smile slightly. “Is this okay with you?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.

“Y-yea. It's fine. cool.” He swallows thickly and turns to look back at the TV.

The cushion gets in the way and you click your tongue, sitting upright and almost bashing him in the jaw with your head. You toss the cushion away and Sanzu's about to protest before you lay back down, your head only inches away from his crotch. His erection was going down slowly but now it might as well sprung back up.

“Oh wait a second,” you said, sitting upright and Sanzu almost panicked when you pointed down at his crotch. “You okay?”

“I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it's fine,” you laugh. “These things are uncontrollable, I know.” Sanzu sighs in relief. “Do you need any help?” you ask and he blinks at you.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” you clear your throat. “That was a dumb question.”

“No wait!” he says abruptly, making you jump. “I mean, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Really?” you perk up a little.

“Yeah I guess.”

You move to sit next to him, your head only inches away from his. “This is gonna sound a bit creepy but,” your eyes drop to his lips, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you say absentmindedly, distracted as you ran your finger over his scars. “Thought you were so pretty.”

“Pretty…?”

“Yeah, you’re really pretty Sanzu.”

He bites his lip, fighting the urge to look away from your intense eyes in the dark. You’re leaning in closer and his eyes close and then he feels your lips pressing against his. It starts off with short pecks that linger a little too long before you're actively moving your lips against his. Your hand cups his face and you pull him closer, sucking on his lips and entering your tongue into his mouth. He moans softly when your fingers find their way to his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

You pull away and plaster kisses to his neck, gently pushing him down onto the couch, your body basically straddling him as you kiss down his throat.

His body feels hot and he can't focus anywhere but your lips going down his body. Your fingers grab the seam of his shirt and your lips tickle against his skin as you mutter, “Take this off.”

He obediently does as he’s told and lifts his arms up as you help him remove the shirt. You toss it on the other couch and sit upright to examine his chest. His abs were faint but visibly and you bit your lip, running your finger along his chest.

He stares up at you as you look distracted at the sight of his bare chest. You make eye contact and smirk a little before lifting your shirt up and over your head. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in your bra. You go back down and kiss down his stomach, fingers moving to unzip his jeans and pull them down.

“Wait wait wait!” You freeze and look up at the boy in front of you, tilting your head in confusion. He swallows thickly. “I haven't…done this before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Shocking, I know.”

“Oh. It really is. I thought girls would be all over a guy like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said before, you’re really pretty Sanzu.” He instantly looks away and you laugh. “You’re shyer than I expected Sanzu. At the party you were really loud and stuff, I didn't expect this. It’s cute.”

“I’m not shy.”

“You said less than 100 words to me tonight and we’ve been hanging out for almost four hours.”

“...”

You laugh and sit upright, leaning back in to kiss him. “Do you still want me to…” Your fingers trail down his body, rubbing the outline of his cock in his briefs.

“If you want to.”

“I obviously do, that's why I'm asking you.”

“Sure then.”

You give him one last kiss before settling back between his lips. His cock has never felt more sensitive than in this moment when your fingers wrap around his cock, pulling it free from his boxers. It stands tall against your face and you lick the tip, not ceasing eye contact. He feels obligated to watch you suck his cock and desperately wants to look away because he knows he will bust in less than ten seconds if you keep staring at him like that.

You take him in your mouth and he moans so loudly, the sound soft and heavenly. You smile around him and begin to suction your cheeks as you take him lower. Your tongue swirled around his shaft every time you bobbed. He was throbbing inside you, your heavy eye contact and warm mouth making him grow harder.

He finally broke the eye contact to throw his head back, a long groan of “fuccccckkkkkkk,” leaving his mouth as he placed his hand on your head, bobbing you up and down. You moaned when his hips bucked up into you.

You pull off his cock and jerk him off, his words dying in his throat when he feels your tongue lick his balls, sucking gently on them.

He sits up and holds the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp as he pants heavily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you focus on pleasuring him, putting your mouth back onto his cock and taking him deeper than you did before, your fingers gently massaging his balls.

“I’m gonna—fuck, i’m coming,” he groans and without warning holds the back of your head, pressing you down and came inside your throat.

Honestly you were shocked he lasted this long. Your body felt so warm and hot hearing his pretty moans, and the sight of him with his mouth open, head thrown back was something you’d never forget. His grip on your head ceased and you pulled off his cock, eyes teary and watery and mouth full of cum.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, watching you take a minute before swallowing. His dick twitches again. Without thinking, his thumb comes up to the corner of your lip and wipes a stray drop of cum. Before he can remove his thumb, your head turns and you suck the tip of it. “You’re actually trying to kill me, aren’t you,” he groans and you giggle around his thumb.

“Are you a virgin too if you’d never gotten head before?”

He nods shamefully and you can’t help but kiss him again. “Want me to take it?” you ask, forehead resting against his.

He blinks at you before not-so-subtly dropping his eyes down to your cleavage. “yeah.”

You grin and push him back down onto his back, slipping off the couch. He watches you strip down naked, your bra and panties are tossed to the opposite couch. Thanks to the help of the tv, your body is still a shadow but the outline of your body makes him instantly hard again. You climb back on top of him.

His hands migrate to your hips, and with absolutely zero confidence with what he’s doing, his hand slides towards your clit and you gasp when his thumb snakes its way to your folds. “You’re really wet.”

You squirm, slightly embarrassed but bite your lip, amusement in your voice as you say, “Yeah…that’s supposed to happen.”

“I know that,” he grumbles, still rubbing your clit in circles, wetting his fingers with your arousal. “I’m not an idiot.”

He pulls his hand away and you grab his wrist, guiding his finger into his mouth, watching him suck your juices off his fingers. “God that’s hot,” you pull his fingers out and lean back down to kiss him.

“I'm going to get condoms,” you say against his lips before pulling away. He nods and watches you head down the hallway when his phone buzzes.

rindou: we found osanai so we’re heading back right now

sanzu: hell no just go home

rindou: ???? walk home then tf

sanzu: don't think that's an issue honestly think i might be sleeping over if you know what i mean ;)

rindou: what? you’re getting laid? YEAH RIGHT

sanzu: IM NOT LYING

rindou: i never once ever in my entire life found you funny but you’re telling some good jokes right now

sanzu: 1) im always funny, 2) im serious. i would send you proof but then you’d see my dick and thats gross

rindou: would rather bleach my eyeballs honestly. you could barely look this girl in the eye and you really expect me to believe you’re fucking her?

“I’m back!” you call out making sanzu jump. “What’re you doing on your phone?” you ask, snatching it from his hands and reading the messages.

It’s a miracle it’s dark right now because Sanzu doesn’t know what he’ll do if you saw him blushing from embarrassment right now.

“He’s fucking rude. Why doesn’t he believe you?” you huff, handing him his phone back before your face lights up. “Wanna show him?”

“Show him what…” He hopes you’re not heading in the direction you’re so obviously going.

“You know what I mean, c’mere.” You sit back against the couch and pull up the camera app on his phone. You hold the phone out in front of you, “Stick your tongue out.”

He does so and you stick yours out also, just barely grazing his as you snap a bunch of pictures. You take a couple more in different poses, putting your lips in a kissy face and kissing his cheek, his lips and resting your forehead against his as you smile at the camera.

You sit upright and scroll through the photos, smiling at each of them. “Send these to me after yeah.” You toss the phone behind you and rip open the condom. You reach behind you and slip it easily down his shaft before aligning it with your pussy. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” The tip nudges your clit before slipping inside, warm heat instantly engulfing the tip of his cock and his mouth falls open, panting breathily as you continue sinking downwards, watching the pleasured look on your face as your pussy squelches trying to accommodate his entire length.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, fixing your hands onto his chest for support. You bounce experimentally, ripping another moan from your throat it sinks you a little lower.

“Shit, shit—wait,” He digs his nails into the fat of your ass cushioned against his thighs.

“Sanzu,” you moan, collapsing down onto his chest, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He can hear your breathy pants beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“You feel so fucking good,” He huffs against your ear and you sit upright, pushing your arms behind you to his knees and start swiveling your hips in circles that turn to full on bouncing on his cock.

His eyes are focused on your tits that swing in motion with your movements and he can’t help but lift you up and down on his cock. “Fuck,” He gropes and squeezes your cheeks as you whimper, clenching around his cock with every bounce.

“Touch me please,” you whimper, looking down at him, grabbing one of his hands and bringing them up to your tits. He squeezes it and runs his thumb along your nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body, giving you more motivation to continue bouncing.

“Wait, slow down— oh fuck.” His body was tense, and you were sure he was leaving fingernail shaped dent marks on your hip with how tight his grip was. His cock felt so good, having a slight tilt to it that hit that spot no other guy had been able to reach. You couldn’t stop bouncing, his words falling on deaf ears.

“Wait wait wait stop,” he gasped, his grip getting tighter, bringing you to a stop. Wasting no time, you lean back down and begin kissing along his jaw as he catches his breath, impatiently wiggling your hips just to feel something. “I just came,” he admitted.

You froze and shot up, looking down at him. “For real?” he nodded, wiping a shameful hand over his face. “That's so cute,” you giggle and kiss him.

You lifted yourself up and off his cock and laid down on top of him. “Did you like it?” you ask, tracing your finger along his chest.

“Yeah, it felt so good.”

“Yay,” you smiled bashfully.

“You didn’t finish though.”

“Eh it's not a big deal. I wanted to make you feel good.”

“Still though…” he mutters, pouting at the fact he didn’t make you feel as good as he felt.

His phone buzzed and he sat upright to grab it.

rindou: having fun loverboy??? u busy humping her pillow to text me back? asshole

Sanzu scoffs and you lean your head against his shoulder and read the messages. “Send him the photos.”

He turns to look at you, your lips almost brushing against his in the process. “You sure? You’re kinda naked in them.”

“I don't really care. It’s just a boob. You can crop it out if you’re that worried.”

“Okay…” He crops your chest out of the photo and stares down at the photos once more. He's never deleting these. He sends three different photos to Rindou, not even bothering to caption them and turns his phone off, waiting for his response.

“Oh wait! Gimme your phone!” You hold your hand out as he hands it to you.

“What’re you doing?”

“Adding my number,” you hum and add your number to his contacts, adding a heart after his name. You’re never usually this forward, but you knew you wanted Sanzu from the moment you saw him, and you weren’t going to let him slip away. “Call me when you get home. okay?” Your forehead brushes against his and your eyes dart down to his lips, fighting the urge to kiss them.

“Okay.”

You give into temptation and kiss him slowly. Your thumbs traced along his jawline as you hum, almost lazily enticing your tongue with his. His hands ran teasingly along your body, cupping your ass and pulling you back on top of him.

The doorbell rang and you sat upright, cursing under your breath. “I’ll get it.” You press one more kiss to his lips and slip off the couch to re-dress. Your shirt was backwards and your pants were inside out, but you didn’t care as you answered the door with a cheery, “yes?”

Kakucho rubbed his forehead with a world heavy sigh and you instantly felt all colour drain from your face. He was with Rindou and probably saw the photos. “How can I help you Kaku?”

“Just…just tell Sanzu to come on, let’s go.”

Sanzu appears behind you,redressed, and gives you a hug goodbye, his arms lingering around your form for much longer than Kakucho considered friendly. You pull away and whisper in his ear for him to call you when he gets home. He nods and you plant another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Sanzu is about to deepen the kiss before Kakucho grabs him by the back of his shirt and tugs him out of your apartment.

#sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev #sanzu smut #tokyorev smut

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vroomvroomwee · 4 months

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I don't know if I'm the only one, but after season two I've noticed a horrible rise of aphobia in the Good Omens fandom. Just to clarify it's not the cast and crew's fault for this, nor is it the result of A and C "finally" kissing on screen (a kiss does NOT mean they aren't aspec despite what many people are saying)

There's simply been a staggering amount of fans, posts, comments not necessarily about hate towards headcannoning the two as aro or ace, so much as there has been a rampant wave of erasure happening. And yes aphobia doesn't just mean outright insults and hate crimes, it also comes in the form of dismission and inconsideration. Of acting like ace and aro identities are a disgrace or something inferior. Like aspec people are unimportant and something to be pitied.

And I think it's mainly due to new fans joining the fandom who only joined because they heard about two "men" kissing. Now, I too love my fair share of queer rep in media, but when someone is new to the fandom, the least they could do is research. Research the book, research past posts, research the fandom itself and what people generally stand for, instead of barging in and acting like the place is there only for them and demanding a thousand more kisses in season 3 with several sex scenes (yes I've come across a dozen of those people by now. No they were not joking)

The more fans the merrier because the show is incredible and beautiful and lovely and everyone should be able to watch it, but please for the love of God have respect for other fans.

And that's why I think it's so important for other fans to call this behaviour out, because guess what? A and C are supernatural entities with no concept of gender or sexuality, at least not one that aligns with that of humans, and they're STILL up for interpretation just as they've always been. As much as people love their own headcannons and want them to be respected they should also give that same courtesy to others (even though you might "not like it" but that's another conversation entirely)

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junipers-archive · 10 months

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hey idk how your requests for fics/oneshots work but i thought of this idea! could you do a reader who gets injured a lot(bruises, scratches, burns) and doesnt seem to notice why shes in pain and spencer is always super worried, or points them out and asks if their ok and they are just genuinely like "huh??" like no clue they were actually hurt. i love protective spence. (this is totally self indulgent i spent 3 hours reading in the sun and didnt realize i was burnt until someone noticed ngl)

"Ow!" Suprisingly its not you who screeches, but Spencer who has been watching you like a hawk the entire case.

He had just witnessed you trying to retrace the steps of the serial killer you were tracking and cut yourself on the nearby wire fencing. Walking over to you, you notice his expression, eyebrows scrunched and mouth downturned.

"How does that not hurt?! It hurts me just to look at it!"

You're about to ask what he's talking about but you notice his pointed stare and follow his gaze to the slash down your upper right forearm. Its bleeding, which you would've realized if you hadn't been busy staring at him.

He looks over to hotch and gets a nod of understanding. And you realize you've done it again.

"oh. oops." Its all you can say, all you can come up with because it doesn't hurt, and also he's standing really close to you, too close, you can smell his cologne, which is clean but sweet and perfect and-

"How-how does this even happen to you?" He snaps you out of your daze, now guiding you to the car, popping the trunk to get the med kit out. He supposedly started it 'for the safety of the team members should something happen'.

Though everyone knows the only team member who needed it was you. You're 99% sure the only reason Hotch agreed to the carry on was because he was tired of having to ask for band aids at every police station you had to cooporate with.

Once you take a seat in the trunk he begins cleaning you up, which to your embarrassment, happens almost every case. But it was hardly ever your fault, your body just rarely experienced the sensation of pain.

Even when it meant you walked around with paper cuts on your fingers all day and only noticed the blood while doing paperwork.

"Sorry..." You mumble, lips twisting into a grimace at your childishness, you can't even take care of yourself, your coworker has to keep an eye on you. "You should be focused on the case, not worried about if I'll break my arm and not feel it.."

You cringe at his slight smile, expecting to be made fun of. "I-Its fine, Y/n I like taking care of you."

Rolling your eyes at his sweetness you tilt your head, "You really like having to keep your eyes on me 24/7, making sure I haven't gone and cut off a finger or fell and broken a bone, you want to keep your eyes on me?"

"Yes, I quite like it actually." And he's grinning Spencer Reid is grinning up at you like he's won the lottery, like looking after you is some prize he's won.

"What-Whatdoyoumean-" you begin quickly but he interrupts you,

"All done!" And he's walking away, he's really just walking away like he just didn't do what he just did.

"Spence! Spencer you come back here right now!" And now you have everyone looking at you like a lunatic. But by god you will find out exactly what he meant.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #junipers archive

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

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Broken

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Angst + hurt/comfort (some fluff)

To say you were pissed off would be the understatement of the year. There was only so much a single person could withstand when it came to this.

You kept shoving your belongings hurriedly inside your backpack, determined to leave his place before crossing paths.

It would be better this way. For everyone involved.

That was until you caught sight of flashes of electric red outside the bedroom window.

“For fuck’s sake…”

You took pride in being fast, but Miguel O’Hara was faster and far more relentless, and before you could react, he was standing tall beside you. “Hey.”

Your spine snapped straight like a whip and you glared at him. Unmasked and unmoving. There was guilt written on all over his face, which fueled your anger even more, because now you knew you were justified in your feelings.

“Bye,” you said, slinging the backpack over your shoulder and heading towards the open window ready to take a dive into the cool air of Nueva York.

“We should talk,” he called from behind you.

“Nah, we’re done.”

“Let’s talk.”

You turned back around, walking straight into his chest.

“I’m done with you,” you said with an indignant growl.

“You’re not being reasonable,” he said.

“Reasonable?!” you hissed. “You let our personal relationship get in between work! You dismissed my perfectly adequate advice during that mission, because I’m just some toy to you or whatever.”

He held up a finger. “Now, see, that’s the issue. You keep misunderstanding things.”

“Okay,” you huffed, reining in your temper as you planted your fists on your hips. “Tell me why you ignored my advice — no, tell me why you always do this. I’ve been here for years and any new recruit has more of a say than I do! Is that because we’re fucking, huh?”

You hadn't bothered to keep you voice down, which you knew was a sure way to get on his nerves, but you couldn’t care less.

But evidently Miguel did care. “Can you calm down so we can talk?”

“You don’t take me seriously,” your went on. “I mean, what is this? I don’t know what to do with whatever it is we have — had,” you promptly corrected yourself. “We screw around, I then try to prove myself on the field, and you shut me down like I’m a nuisance.”

You were about to turn to leave through the window when he held it one hand to you, causing you to roll your eyes and folding your arms. “You’re not sweet-talking your way out of this.”

“That's alright, then.”

Miguel’s hand fell to his side, and he just stood there in silence, eyes boring into yours.

You scowled at him. “Well?” you demanded. “Go on. Why so quiet now?”

“I know you’re upset with me,” he said, face hardening.

“Nice observation skills.”

“I shouldn’t have been that harsh,” he sighed.

You scoffed. “It keeps happening, so it’s a habit by now. We’re both old enough to know fully well how to separate personal from professional, right?”

“I do, but you don’t,” he said simply. “You need to understand my position here. It’s a great deal of responsibility, and you can’t expect to be favoured just because we got involved.”

“Excuse me? I never expected favouritism.”

“But it sure looks like it. Look,” he exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “In here, you have my attention, but out there I need to have yours. For the sake of each mission.”

Your stomach flipped at his words. “Attention? What attention, Miguel? Aren’t we just fuck buddies? Wasn’t that the understanding?”

His shoulders slumped. “Initially, yes. And I could stand here and blame it on you, but it’s entirely my fault.”

“Now, why would I be blamed? And for what?” you asked impatiently. There was this unshakeable feeling creeping in on you telling you he was merely speaking in riddles with the sole intent of being purposefully vague. “Are we just going to throw blame at—”

“Because you have feelings for me!” Miguel’s temper finally exploded.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, but no sound came out.

An empty silence weaved around you, filled only with the beeping sound of Miguel’s watch which he promptly silenced.

He had made it abundantly clear that your relationship was purely built on the principle of mutual pleasure. You both had needs, and it was a very straightforward ‘you scratch my back, I scratch yours’ type of deal — albeit concerning different body parts.

Miguel broke the deafening silence first. “Trust me, it was against my better judgment.”

“Why didn’t you stop, then?”

There was no point in denying the feelings you harboured for him. There was only so much intimacy one could experience with someone else before other thoughts crept through your mind.

But what really made your heart clench was that mownyou knew that he knew, and it made things worse. So much worse.

Miguel took a long and deep breath. “Because by the time I realised how you felt, I found myself enjoying your company more than I had anticipated.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I should have stopped it,” he went on. “I don’t like dealing with attachments. Those lead to liabilities.”

Well, you’d sworn to yourself not to cry because of this. But the lump was in your throat and your eyes stung, and when you spoke your voice had turned into a whisper. "You should have told me," you said through clenched teeth.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t want to put that pressure on you!” you exploded, feeling your eyes water. “I knew it was one-sided, so what would be the point? But knowing that you now know just makes me feel so…”

Miguel paced to his bed, taking a seat by the edge. “This is why I said it’s my fault. I can’t have this in my life.”

Your eyes widened. “Have what?”

“This!” he grunted, motioning with both hands to the two of you. “This is what I do. I get involved and fuck things up.”

“You can’t control how others feel about you,” you said as you brushed a teardrop with the back of your hand. “All I want is your respect.”

“You have it.”

“Then show it! Your words mean nothing if you don’t act accordingly.”

Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. “You want what I can never give you.”

“Respect?”

He shook his head. “Love.”

The word carved into you like a dagger and not because it was a lie, but because it was painfully true.

“Why do you think I fell for you? The sex? Sure, it’s great or whatever,” you said, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “No, Miguel. You showed me a side of you that you show no one else. You made me feel special.”

He seemed taken aback, but said nothing.

“Everyone here thinks you’re cold and distant and some vessel of righteousness,” you went on, feeling a couple of droplets stream down your face and leaving a damp trail behind. “You want everyone to think that, but you are not that person.”

Miguel scoffed, breaking eye contact with you. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” you take a few steps closer to him, wanting him to stare back at you again. “It won’t kill you to feel something other than anger and resentment, you know? We’re humans. It’s in our nature to bond with others—”

“But we’re not really regular humans, are we?” he scowled deeply, crimson eyes narrowing at you. “I haven’t been with anyone since…” his voice faltered, hands gripping his thighs tightly. “I’m too broken.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

You saw something twist his features. Miguel didn’t like being challenged. He was so terrible at handling his emotions, that anything that he couldn’t control he grew to resent.

“I wanted you to hate me,” he said abruptly. “During missions… just like what happened today.”

“What? Why?”

“Because making you hate me felt easier than me not having feelings for you.”

There it was.

That sentence alone was enough to have your lips quiver shut, heart thumping loudly and head feeling dizzy.

“You’re an idiot,” you managed to say after a while.

“What?”

The sudden flare of rage nearly consumed you. “How could you even think that? How broken are you to convince yourself that you’re not worthy of having normal feelings for someone else?”

“Because I can’t afford it,” he explained as he rose to his feet. “The moment I give into my feelings for you, you become a liability.”

You shrunk away, feeling suddenly really tiny. “I think us getting involved was a mistake.”

He looked at you, surprised. “You’re just saying that because you know this isn’t going anywhere.”

“No, I'm saying it because I feel guilty,” you murmured, hugging yourself for comfort. “I will never understand what you’ve been through. I won’t pretend I ever will,” you paused momentarily, pondering your next words. “But I feel selfish for wanting more.”

“I'm a selfish kind of man, too,” he remarked evenly.

You nodded.

He took a step towards you and you took one back, bumping unexpectedly into the wall. Miguel seemed caught off guard by your reaction and froze, hands held up. "I’m not going to ask you to continue this.”

“It’s better that we don’t,” you whispered unconvincingly. “I’ll get over you.”

“Yes,” he said with a shrug, reaching out to touch a hand to your cheek. “I totally agree.”

You nearly melted into a puddle at his touch. It was like a punch to the stomach, knowing that he could so easily get under your skin.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

You swallowed hard. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel forced to be with me.”

“Too late for that.”

Your eyes zeroed in on his and he froze under the ferocity of your glare. “It’s fucking sad, Miguel. That it took things getting out of control for us to have an honest conversation.”

“I agree,” he said. “But maybe it was necessary.”

He was now stroking your cheek, and as much as you wanted to flinch away from his touch, he had somehow managed to melt your insides.

He leaned closer and you snapped your face away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of submitting.

His lips were near your ear. “Do you want to part ways?”

Your jaw clenched.

“I’ll respect your decision.”

You screwed your eyes shut, blocking him out and seeking clarity. “What if I think we should give it a try?”

“Then we must set boundaries,” he said, breath fanning your ear. “You’re an amazing spider-woman.”

You gave him a cynical snort.

“And I think we shouldn’t be paired in further missions unless strictly necessary. At least until we figure this out.

You shared the sentiment, but also craved reassurance. “But you need to let me in, Miguel. I can give you space whenever you need it, but you can’t keep building these walls around you,” you took a deep sigh. “You don’t have to with me.”

His hands were moving down your sides, and you let your backpack slide down one arm, falling to the ground. He came to rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I know.”

Having him this close to you never failed to make your heart flutter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, bringing both arms to cradle your face, pulling you into his chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

Somehow, that confession brought a faint smile to your lips. “No, you don’t.”

“Was that a smile?”

“No,” you huffed in annoyance.

“I think that was a smile.”

“Stop it. You sound as obnoxious as Lyla,” you mumbled.

“Well, I did program her,” he said, hands caressing the back of your head adoringly. “Are you calling me obnoxious?”

“Maybe.”

“Ouch,” he feigned pain in his voice.

Your stubbornness crumbled at once and you finally wrapped your arms around him.

“How could you ever think your feelings were one-sided?” he whispered, lulling you in his arms. “Silly, silly spider.”

Masterlist

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lovingmattysposts · 3 months

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You don't know me 25

P1 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17 P18 P19 P20 P21 P22 P23 P24 P25 P26 P27 P28 P29 P30 P31 P32

pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo

summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.

warnings: family DRAMA.

"Y/n"

"I can't talk right now" I pushed past Sydney. She chased after me, grabbing my arm. "Sydney! I said I can't fucking talk to you right now okay?" I snapped glaring at her. She froze, before taking a step back. I sighed and looked down at my feet.

"Y/n, I'm sorry okay? It's been hovering over my head since the day after the party, but you were going to see Chris still and I thought that If I said anything about that, and not about you and Chris to Max it would be--"

"The party? You've known since after--" I paused. It didn't matter. I didn't care about that stupid petty drama about who cheated on who, who knew, who didn't, who did it first---Simply, Fuck that. It was the last thing on my mind.

"Sydney--I'm not mad about that okay?" I said shaking my head. She paused looking at me. I turned to direction of my house slightly. "I-I'm dealing with some family shit right now, I just don't have time for this" I breathed shaking my head, feeling the exhaustion take over me.

She blinked at me.

"So you're not mad I didn't tell you?"

"No-No Sydney. I'm not mad" I said pinching the bridge of my nose. She shifted on her feet.

"You promise?" She mumbled. I looked at her. The last thing I needed was to be dealing with this. "Sydney. I have to go" I stated staring at her. She swallowed and looked down at her feet. "You still seem mad" She mumbled. I groaned and pressed my hands to my face.

"I just found out that my father isn't actually my father, Nate is my brother, and my mother had an affair and lied to me whole life about it. So yes i'm angry, not at you. But I'm angry---Can I go now?" I snapped staring at her. Her mouth fell open.

"Wha--?" She breathed shaking her head. I let out a breath before sitting down on the curb and pulling my knees to my chest. I was tired, just tired. She stood there for a second and sat down next to me, slowly.

"You're not a Labraut?" She asked softly. I stared at the ground. "Nope, still wanna be friends?" I breathed shaking my head. She chuckled and leaned her head against my shoulder.

"I don't care what your last name is" She whispered. "I just know that I love who you are, it doesn't matter what your name is or isn't" She whispered. I smiled and leaned my head against hers.

"Does Chris know?"

"Chris knew"

She lifted her head and I looked over at her. "What?" She said loudly. I nodded and looked down. She shook her head. "Why wouldn't he--" She paused when she saw me expressionless, putting together everything. Everything she's thinking right now--I've already thought.

She sighed. "Y/n, I'm sorry" She shook her head. I pushed my finger over the concreate below me. "Yeah, everyone is" I mumbled. She frowned and looked down at me. Silence fell between us for a second.

"I just don't know what to do now" I whispered shaking my head. She just looked at me. I pulled at my hair. "I feel like my entire life has flipped upside down these past 6 months and I don't even know who I am anymore." I swallowed.

"The blow up and breakup with Max. My parent’s disappointment with that. My boyfriend's leaving to Boston, My dad isn't my dad, I have a new brother?" I scoffed shaking my head from how ridiculous I sounded. It didn’t even sound like real life. I pressed my chin to my knees. "I don't know what’s going on" I whispered.

Her arm came over me.

"Everything that's happening to you--" She shook her head. "It's not your fault" She breathed. I looked over at her. "If you really think about it" She squinted. "Everything that's happening sucks, yes" She nodded. I chuckled and nodded.

"But" She smiled. "It all has a good outcome" She breathed. "You cheating on Max, Max cheating on you" She explained. "It gave you Chris" She said. I looked down, I guess that was true.

"You told me you never felt like a Labraut, it's because you never were one. Now you don't have to be one" She said. I sighed.

"And Chris leaving?" I asked blinked at her. She opened her mouth and then closed it, swallowing. "I--I didn't think that one through yet" She mumbled, her arm coming off me. I smiled and shook my head, wiping my eyes.

I turned to her. "I hope I didn't ruin your formal" I mumbled. She smiled and let out a laugh. "I actually didn't make it to the dance" She said looking down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows. "You and Cayden get lost in the backseat?" I joked smiling. Her smile faded.

"No he-he uh.." She swallowed. "He broke up with me" She nodded looking over at me. I sat up looking at her. "Sydney, I'm so sorry" I whispered. She shook her head looking off in front of her.

"Don't be he was---he wasn't--" She mumbled. "Anything really" She whispered. I swallowed feeling her pain. "Sometimes I felt like I was only ever really with him to keep up with you and Max" She mumbled. I bit my lip.

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way" I whispered. She shook her head. "You didn't" She said quickly. "In a weird way I felt like I always looked up to you" She explained looking at me. I just watched her.

"It was about time Cayden and I ended anyway. He was about as deep as a kiddy pool" She chuckled. I smiled. "My parents weren't happy of course" She sighed leaning back. I pursed my lips. She shrugged.

"But whatever right?" She smiled. I chuckled and nodded. "It's not as interesting information as finding out you have a new brother and dad. I bet you lost your mind" She chuckled. I smiled and nodded.

"Syd, you should have seen me this morning. I didn't even mean to figure that out, I was just running through the house just trying to find something that could help---"

I paused as a thought hit me. She looked at me. "What?" She asked seeing me pause. I scrambled to my feet as I looked down at her. She looked up at me. "What!" She asked again shaking her head.

"I have to go--I-" I said pointing to the direction of my house. She stood up, shaking her head. "No, yeah--go-go" She waved me off. I smiled before pushing off my feet and running towards my house.

I pushed open my door before seeing my mother pacing back and forth in the kitchen. She froze when she saw me. I just looked at her. She swallowed and pressed her hands together.

"Tell me everything" I breathed staring at her. She nodded quickly before pulling out a chair for me to sit in. I looked from her to the chair before walking over and slowly sitting down in it.

She paced in front of me, before stopping and taking in a breath and looking at me. I stared up at her. "Okay" She nodded pursing her lips and closing her eyes.

"You think I don't know you" She blinked her eyes looking down at me. I glared up at her. She nodded. "I do, I know you" She breathed. She pressed her hands against the counter. "Because sometimes when I looked at you, I see myself when I was your age" She shook her head.

I couldn’t think of a worse comparison. It made my stomach knot.

I leaned back watching her, not wanting to fight, but wanting to hear her explain. "Mom" I said. She looked up at me and nodded, pressing her hands to her face. "Okay" She breathed shaking her head, like she was figuring out a way to tell me how and why my entire life was a lie. Her hands dropped.

"I started dating your father when I was a little younger than you are" She explained. "Not my father" I corrected her. Her eyes snapped to mine. "Scott" She corrected staring into my soul. I nodded.

"He came from money" She breathed holding out her hand. My eyes drifted to her hand. "I came from money" She placed her other hand out before pressing them together.

"We just made sense" She nodded. I stared at her. She looked down at her feet. "I met James-" She paused as if saying his name physically pained her. She swallowed. "I met James--" She stated stronger. "A year or two after I started seeing Scott, we were in college" She nodded before biting her lip and looking off to the side.

"I'm not proud for what I did" She swallowed. "You were seeing them both at the same time?" I asked softly. She looked back at me, and I knew my answer. I nodded and looked down, hating that I started seeing similarities between me and my mother.

"Did you love him?" I whispered. She looked down. "James?" I asked to clarify. She placed her hands on the counter leaning over. "I did" She nodded. I just looked at her. "Did you love him more than Scott?" I asked softly. She took in a breath.

"I loved Scott differently" She said looking down at me. "You loved what Scott could give you" I corrected her. Her jaw tightened. "You--" She shook her head. "You don't understand the situation Y/n. That was not true" She breathed. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"I found out I was pregnant when I was 21" She explained. I sat up. "You were seeing them both for years?" I gasped. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe. I sat back in disbelief. I couldn't imagine keeping up with even what I did for years.

"I found out I was pregnant" She said tilting her head at me. "And I panicked" She sighed nodding. I felt my gut clench. I couldn't imagine how I would feel if I found out I was pregnant right now. She must have been so scared.

"How did you know it was James's and not Scott's?" I whispered. She looked down. "You just know" She breathed. I nodded and looked at my lap. "James knew it was his too, but if Scott found out I was seeing James, I knew he would leave me" She explained. I swallowed.

"So I told him it was his" She said. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"So you never hated me because I wasn’t a boy, you hated me because I was his" I said looking at the counter. She shook her head. "No" She said quickly.

"What I felt with James was something that only happens once, but I was young, I was stupid, I did some things I shouldn't and I made my decision. I chose Scott" She explained. She walked over to me before placing her hand under my chin. I moved from her touch.

"I'm cold, I get that. I get how it isn't fair to you" She said lowering her hand. "When I looked at you I'm reminded everyday of my decison, everyday of him. And all the guilt and sorrow that comes with that" She swallowed.

"You have his eyes" She nodded at me. I looked down. "So Nate's my..." I breathed. "Half brother" She nodded. I looked up at her. "About a few months after I had you, he was started seeing another girl. He got her pregnant and they had Nate, right before you turned one." She sighed.

I closed my eyes. "It's not fair that you never told me. It's not fair you kept me from my dad" I glared at her. She closed her eyes. "It was the only way. Y/n, I didn't have a choice. I never planned for you to find out" She glared over at me.

"Why didn't you chose James?" I breathed. She paused looking at me. She sighed and looked down. "A part of me never thought I deserved him in the first place. The other part knew it would have been a discrase to the family name. Seeing a Labraut and then having a baby with a Doe. I would have been disowned by my parents" She shook her head. She glanced over at me.

"Sometimes love just isn't enough" She swallowed shaking her head. I nodded and looked down.

"I won't tell Scott" I nodded. She let out a breath and pressed her hand to her chest. "Oh my god. Thank-"

"Under two conditions" I swallowed meeting her eyes. She paused and stood up straight. I stood up off the chair. "You give Dan his job back" I said looking at her. She took in a breathed and closed her eyes.

"Your father---Scott he made the decison--" She shook her head.

"You give. Dan....his job back" I repeated. She looked at me before nodding softly. "Chris stays in Michigan" I said pointing down. She swallowed and nodded.

"And" I stated. She looked up. "You accept the fact that I love Chris, and nothing is going to change that" I swallowed. "Even if Scott doesn't" I breathed. She nodded letting out a breath.,

"Okay" She nodded. I smiled. "Good" I breathed looking at her. The front door pushed open before I heard the steps of Scott's shoes. I turned before seeing his eyes land on me.

"Everything okay?" He breathed before his hand came against my mother back. I looked between them before turning.

"Yep"

I swallowed as I looked up at the house. I almost had the courage to knock.....20 minutes ago. I've been talking myself down ever since. I swallowed as I shifted on my feet.

"Hi Dad" I whispered to myself before shaking my head. "What's up Dad?" I said again before shaking my head. "Where ya been the last 18 years Dad?" I sighed pressing my hands to my face.

How do I face a man knowing he's my father and also knowing he gave up on me?

"Y/n?" The door slammed. My eyes shot up before landing on Nate. I froze. My mouth parted. He walked towards me narrowing his eyes. He stopped when he was right in front of me. I swallowed.

We fucking do look alike.

Why did I never notice?

"What are you doing here? Chris isn't here" He said turning and looking at his house, then back to me. I shifted on my feet. "No, yeah. I know" I swallowed meeting his eyes again.

"Listen, you can't be here" Nate said staring at me. I blinked at him. "Did you come to talk to me?" He asked raising his eyebrows. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, feeling the knot in my stomach. Also feeling the tears in my eyes.

"You know"

I blinked my eyes open and nodded softly. He took in a breath and turned his head. "I'm gonna kill Chris" he mumbled under his breath. "Chris didn't tell me. I found.....letters in my Mom's closet from your---our dad" I swallowed. Nate took in a breath.

"He's not your dad. He's my dad" He clenched his jaw. "He's mine too" I glared at him. He shook his head. "No. He’s not." He breathed staring at me. "Nate" I sighed.

"I don't want any part of you" He pushed past me. "You are part of me. I'm part of you" I defended myself looking at him. He paused before turning around.

I could almost feel the emotion cascading off his back. I swallowed feeling chills all over me. He was my brother. Well half-brother, but yesterday I woke up with no siblings and today I woke up with a half brother who hates me.

"This effects me too you know" I swallowed, wrapping my arms around myself. "I've never had a sibling and---" I felt my voice shake. I didn't know how to do this, I didn't know how to get him to like me.

He just stared at me, glaring hard. "I know you don't know me that well, and whatever you do know--you hate. But--" I felt a lump in my throat. "I've never had a family really" I shook my head.

"My dad isn't my dad" I explained shaking my head. "My mom hates me because I'm his-" I said glancing over to the front door of his house. Nate stepped towards me when I turned back to him.

"I'm sure your life was just miserable, Y/n" He stated through gritted teeth. I physically felt my body sink as he stepped towards me. "And I get it really, I feel for you. All the nice cars, the nice house, the expensive watches" He narrowed his eyes at me. I looked down at my feet.

"But my dad doesn't deserve this" He shook his head. "I'll except the fact that you might be my sister, but do not drag my father into this. The last thing he needs is another Labraut ruining what he has left" He said shaking his head down at me.

I pinched my lips together. "Nate" I sighed feeling the tears weld at my eyes. He shook his head before he shrugged his bag over his shoulder and walked away from me.

"Leave before he sees you" He mumbled as he walked away. I looked down at my feet trying to catch my emotions under order as I heard the faint steps of his feet finally turn away. I swallowed as I turned back towards the door.

I wondered if James would have had the same reaction as Nate if he had seen me, if I had not been stopped by Nate before I was able to see him, for the very first time. Maybe Nate was right. Maybe James was better off pretending he didn't have a daughter. He's been doing it pretty well the past 18 years.

As I let out a final breath and stepped away from the house wondering if I ever would belong to a family. Right now, the only family that felt like home was Chris. But sometimes a daughter just needed their father, and they needed their father to need them back.

"I'm sorry"

"I'm so sorry"

We froze at each other's words before I smiled and shook my head.

"Chris"

"No, Y/n. What I kept from you---It wasn't right and I--"

I paused his voice my leaning up and wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. He froze before accepting the hug and squeezing me back, sighing. "Oh, Y/n" He mumbled against my neck. I just held him tighter.

"I overreacted, I was hurt by my mom and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have expected you to betray Nate's trust for me. I'm so sorry" I swallowed against his neck, because I was, so sorry. How do you even tell someone something like that?

Oh yeah you know Nate? Yeah, he's actually your brother--Let me explain?

"I still should have told you" He mumbled back. I pulled back. He smiled sadly down at me. "How are you feeling?" He asked his hands still around my waist as he rubbed comforting circles against my hips.

"As well as someone who found out their dad isn't actually their dad can feel" I nodded, he smiled and sighed before pulling me back to him and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"What can I do?" He mumbled. I leaned against his chest letting out a breath, wrapping my arms around his back. “Just be here" I whispered. He pulled me tighter. "I can do that" He whispered. I smiled as I let the presence of him consume me, because It was all I can do. It's all I had left.

And for once it was enough.

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