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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 months

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Relationship Weight 💘👩🏽‍❤️‍👨🏾

Miguel O'Hara x Fem reader

**gif credits to colecassidysfav**

TW: Minors DNI, eating disorder, insecurity, weight gain, self consciousness, body dismorphia, sexual content. I DREW ON PERSONAL EXPERIENCE/SOME OF MY INTERNAL THOUGHTS I HAVE DEALT WITH TO WRITE THIS AND ARTICULATE THE STRUGGLES I HAVE FACED PERSONALLY WITH EATING AND BODY IMAGE WHICH MAY BE FATPHOBIC OR TRIGGERING. IF YOU ARE QUITE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING LIKE THAT, YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP OVER THIS ONE x ❤️ I just wanted to write something where he's helping you through your insecurities about changes your body is going through...hope it's okay and you enjoy!

Synopsis: You & Miguel have been dating for almost a year. You're slowly healing your relationship with food and getting comfortable which causes you to put on some pounds. You're insecure one evening and he reassures you. (Reader is mid-twenties, Miguel is in his thirties)

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It was New Year's Eve. Spider Society was throwing a party at 9 pm tonight. Your new boyfriend Miguel was never one to want to attend such functions, God forbid he actually be forced to socialize. But at your urging he caved in. He wanted to make you happy and he knew you were dying to be part of his world even though you had no Spider abilities. You embraced his daughter and completely brought him into yours, after all. Your mom was already head over heels for him and couldn't resist stuffing homemade rolls, cookies, brownies, banana bread, or any other baked goods down his throat whenever y'all visited.

It was an amazing 10 months with Miguel. When you met, you were in the best shape of your life. You met at the gym when you'd always see him in the free weights area directly in front of the treadmills where you did your cardio. Every day he'd do his reps in a spot where you had a front row seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him grunting, strands of his dark hair falling over his forehead as sweat dripped down, his delicious shoulder muscles rippling and you couldn't help but try and picture yourself underneath.

In the beginning it was spicy and passionate. You'd send him selfies at work wearing lingerie sets and sometimes nothing at all which would get him hot and bothered in his office, sometimes in the middle of a virtual meeting. He'd turn off his camera and mic and groan at the sight of you and start palming himself to your photos when Peter B. Parker would stroll in, blabbing about something only to yelp and duck when Miguel threw his trash can at his head screaming at him to "Get the fuck out, Parker, I'm busy!"

After about two weeks of this, he finally caught you shamelessly staring at him and made a quip about how it's rude to stare to which your face nearly melted from the heat of embarrassment that rose in your cheeks. He smirked at your flustered reaction and finally introduced himself and the rest was history.

Your stomach was flat and defined in the beginning. You had a toned ass and legs and your arms were well sculpted. You'd go to the gym with Miguel all the time and push each other then come home and release all the tension in the shower. He'd fuck you mercilessly against the shower wall and you'd come undone beneath him. He loved doing it with the lights on, in front of the mirror, which you had no problem with. You looked damn good as you rode him with his hands on your thighs. Both of your perfect bodies moving together like some kind of porno.

Even though your body looked flawless, you felt immense pressure to maintain it. You couldn't help but feel insecure when you saw how perfect his figure was and how so many heads always turned when you were out with him in public. You had insecure thoughts when one of the gorgeous Spiderwomen he worked with would send him emails or when they'd go inside his office for their work evaluations, clearly fixing their hair to look good for him, your impossibly handsome boyfriend.

When he asked you out on your first date, you had maybe 6 bites total of your main course and insistently turned down dessert. You felt like you couldn't eat most of the day until you saw him later on in the evenings, wanting to make sure your body looked just as good as it did in the morning for him as it did as night.

But Miguel was good for your soul. He'd whip up the best comfort food for you after a long gym session. Your favorite was his Al Pastor, which he'd watch you eagerly scarf down with a smile on his face, then hand you the last few bites of his which he couldn't finish. He had your takeout orders memorized and would bring it to you whenever you had a bad day. Whenever you would try and order a small size, he'd shake his head and order you a large. He could sense you had difficulty with food and how much you ate. But it made his heart happy and warm to see you curled up on the couch next to him in your hoodie and sweats, munching happily on whatever food he brought you while he did the same and turned on the Netflix series you two were binging together.

You slowly let down your walls with him, but not all the way. In the 10 months you two were dating, you put on 80 pounds. Your stomach was no longer flat, even when you sucked in. It dropped over your pants and you only wore high waisted leggings to tuck it in. Your thighs and upper arms jiggled, much less toned than before. Your breasts grew larger and slightly more saggy when before they were smaller, yet round and perky. You stopped dressing cute. When you saw the number on the scale you panicked and threw it away, sobbing on the bathroom floor.

You were in a rut lately. You hadn't been to the gym with Miguel in weeks and just felt like hiding away and rotting in bed. You didn't want to leave the sanctuary of your apartment and PJs for fear of someone seeing you. You'd cry about your body in the day only to down half the snacks in your pantry at night and make you wake up with self-loathing. You refused to have the lights on anymore when you two made love. Normally you'd scream and sigh, letting him relish in your moans and pleasure, becoming a pornstar for him in bed, letting him bend and twist you into whatever position he wanted, and you'd take the lead and move your hips in circles that drove him crazy while he left handprints on your ass and scanned every inch of you with his eyes, burning your body into his corneas.

Now lately, you'd hide under the covers, refusing to get on top and preferred missionary or doggy style where you'd bury your top half in the pillows or anything where he didn't have a good view of your body. You were convinced that having him take you from behind was better because at least the only positive from your body changing was your ass getting bigger.

Now, it was New Year's Eve, and you were shaking on your bed, trying to stifle your sobs as none of the dresses you wanted to wear were fitting. All that fit you now was a loose knit top and a short skirt that was tight across your tummy bulge. When you turned around you could see your love handles from behind and the cellulite that dimpled the back of your thighs that were once smooth. You felt incredibly self-conscious and were so mad at yourself for letting yourself get to this point. You thought surely your Greek God of a boyfriend would be embarrassed to be seen with you. He must have won the lottery with his metabolism, because no matter what he ate, he stayed fit and sexy as ever.

Miguel walked into your apartment with a grin on his face after working out, setting his keys on the counter. He opened your fridge and his smile disappeared when he saw the lunch he bought you earlier still untouched, sitting on the top shelf. His brow furrowed with worry and he called your name.

"Amor?" He walked into your bedroom and found you sitting on your bed in tears.

"Baby?" He scooped you into his big, strong arms. "What's wrong? You didn't eat the lunch I got you?"

He kissed the top of your head while holding you close, letting you cry it out for a minute, not minding his collar getting soaked with your tears.

"Nothing fits me anymore!" you cried. "I seriously tried on all of my dresses in my wardrobe and nothing fits. I feel disgusting."

Snot began to run down your nose as your eyes began to swell and get puffy from all your weeping. Miguel got up and grabbed some tissues from your bathroom, handing them to you and running his hands up and down your arms as you sat back down on the bed.

"You're not disgusting, amor. Let me see. What's wrong with this skirt you have on?"

Miguel held your hand as you stood up begrudgingly, rolling your eyes and you gave a half-ass spin to show him your outfit that you absolutely hated.

Now, Miguel's eyebrows raised when you turned around and he felt his cheeks get pink as a small singe of arousal coursed through his body. Your ass really looked great. Sure, your ass was toned before, but he liked it much better now, the curvature much more pronounced as it blended into your hips, creating a wide, delicious hourglass.

But the part of you that grabbed his attention the most was the little bulge at the bottom of your tummy that poked itself out endearingly in your skirt. He couldn't articulate why but seeing that drove him crazy. He automatically put his hands on it to which you winced and grabbed his wrists, trying to move them away.

Miguel's face softened and his eyes grew sad.

"Let me touch you...please?"

You couldn't help yourself to his gorgeous sad eyes so you relaxed your grip, releasing his wrists and letting him touch you. He put his hands on your fupa and began to gently knead it in a circle, letting the circles get wider and wider until he moved his hands to a new area. He grabbed your love handles this time, using them to pull your body against his face as he planted small kisses against your clothed abdomen.

You finally let out a small whine which made him smile devilishly.

"There we go...I knew you wouldn't be able to hold back for me, hermosa," he whispered.

He slunk his hands under your skirt while kissing and squeezing the flesh of your thighs, worshipping your skin. "Do... you.. know...." he pauses as he sucks on your inner thigh.

"How fucking crazy you've been driving me lately? Do you know how much I've been dying to get my hands on you and appreciate you like this? It's been SO long..." His hands begin to massage your breasts which elicits more moans from you.

"I just... I haven't felt comfortable lately. I don't feel beautiful. I hate the way I look. I don't feel sexy for you," you hang your head in shame.

Miguel pauses and pulls you on top of him so you're sitting on his lap with your thighs on either side of him. He rests his hands back on your clothed breasts, gently increasing the pressure of his grip on them as he speaks to you in a hushed tone.

"Baby, I love you for who you are, not what you look like." His eyes scan you, hungrily. "But, I loved your body back then, and I love it now. Maybe even a little more so." He winks at you.

"R-Really?"

"Yes, really" Miguel murmurs as he runs his hands under your shirt, the coolness of his palms causing you to gasp which makes your nipples poke out a little, making him drool.

"Let's stay in tonight," he purrs as he squeezes your bare flesh under your shirt. "Please?"

"Oh, okay..."

"Good." He smiles at you and kisses you softly. "After I take my time with you, I need you to eat some food for me baby, can you do that? I'll get you whatever you want. My treat. I just want you to be healthy and happy with me."

You can't help but tear up and he cups your face in both of his large hands, squeezing your cheeks as he looks lovingly into your eyes.

"I love you so much. Don't ever worry about what you look like," his hands run down your body.

"Because at the end of the day, it's all for me, hmm?"

"Y-ahhhh!" Your response freezes in your throat as you feel overwhelming pleasure coming from your core, and you realize his hand found its way up your skirt and under your panties.

"Hmmm?" He asks, his head tilting, his dreamy brown-reddish eyes locked onto yours, relishing the way you're losing your mind to his fingers right now.

"You didn't answer my question, amor." He plunges deeper.

"God! Yes...God, yes it's all for you baby...only you," you groan.

He smiles a dazzling smile at you. "Good." He smacks your ass and lays back on your bed, pulling you over his face.

"Now I'm ready to suffocate."

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut

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rosietherivendell · 3 months

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Every day I wake up and unlock another character from The Terror. Saw a gif set the other day and sure enough there was Edmund Hoar, someone I thought was just a name drop character, doing his background steward duties. I'm half convinced I'm gonna log on tomorrow and see a picture of a guy all bundled up with only 10% of his face showing with the caption "RIP Mr. Hornby gone too soon ❤️" What's next? You gonna tell me Pilkington is an actual onscreen dude and not just a name they keep throwing around to make it seem like they have more friends? It's like we just keep inventing brown haired scurvy ridden lead poisoned white guys except they've been there THE WHOLE TIME I've never had so much fun putting names to blurry faces of background characters before the whole experience is just like

#the terror #edmund hoar #william pilkington #the terror amc #i'm having the time of my life

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jasmines-library · 3 months

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Hi love <3!

I was wondering if you’d feel comfortable with writing something with the bat-family finding out that the reader has like, the abilities to transfer injuries to themselves.

Like, one of them is hurt and reader just rips their gloves off mid mission and drops to their side, transferring the injury to themself. Bonus points if they automatically transfer some psychological trauma as well? And maybe reader avoiding talking about it and stuff, the family finally seeing the countless scars that reader got because of their power.

(This is has been stuck in my head for forever and I’ve never seen anyone write the bat-family as good as you do, so <3)

Heal

Note: I've literally wanted to write something like this for ages! thank you for requesting ❤️ also tumblr was throwing a tantrum and not letting me put the image I wanted as a header so you get a GIF instead :(

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Scars.

Word count: 1.7k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“Robin!”

The scream ripped itself from your throat as you saw him drop to the ground. The crook stood over him, removing the dagger that dripped with crimson red from where he had plunged it into Damians thigh. You practically launched yourself across the street as he fled, dropping to his side. He clutched feebly at the wound, eyes screwed up in pain. Your hand hovered over the wound as he cried out in pain gawping at the open wound. Blood gushed from the deep wound staining the concrete.

“Hold on Robin, you’re gonna be fine.” you told him as you tore off your gloves and discarded them on the ground.

Then, pressing your hand firmly over the wound and wincing at his shout of discomfort, you began to heal the wound. It was a strange sensation that no matter how many times you felt, you never seemed to get used to. The tingling ran up your arms but quickly replaced by an agonising burn as Damian’s wound began to heal on his skin and began to appear beneath your thigh beneath your suit. You bit your lip to hold back the cry as you watched the gaping wound close leaving behind nothing but shiny new skin and another hole in his suit for Alfred to patch up.

Damian pushed himself up onto his forearms to regain his composure when he felt the pain dissipate from his body. Around you, the rest of the vigilantes were still battling the criminals who seemed to be flanking in from every possible angle. You helped him to his feet, asking if he was alright as you pulled on your gloves. He gave you a brief nod of thanks before dashing off with his katana in hand to help his family. You staggered behind him trying to hide the limp that you had developed from the wound. You could already feel it healing; one of the many perks of your abilities, but it still hurt like a bitch. But you pressed forward anyway, gripping your weapon tightly to help with the fight.

You had had much worse. Much much worse. Like that one time that Joker had captured Tim…you took all of his injuries. But the thing is, with injuries come memories. Each cell carries its own story. And every time you take on a wound, you take on some of the trauma that comes with it. It's not your own, but it feels so real. The images play inside your head on loop like a movie often cropping up at the worst times. The worst time was when Jason died. Although when he returned he was physically healed, he was still struggling; scarred by the memories that haunted him. So, when he started recklessly patrolling and you had offered to heal him, you took away as much of it as you could.

Sometimes it was the memories that hurt more than the actual wounds themselves. To see and feel what they had been through broke you completely. The torment that Jason had been through that you had seen was something you couldn’t even muster up the words to describe. You couldn’t imagine what he went through and you would never be able to heal him completely, but you were glad you could help him as much as you could. Glad you could take away any of their pain even if it meant that you had to feel it for them.

They didn’t know this. You had kept it somewhat hidden from them. The vigilantes knew you could heal wounds, but they didn’t know that you took on the injury. And you wanted to keep it that way because you knew that if they found out they would just stop you from doing it and you would be left feeling useless on the sidelines.

Nightwing dropped down beside you, noting your slight limp as you fought against the criminals. They seemed to be thinning out now with the five of you fighting them. They either fled or dropped to the ground like flies.

“You alright?” He asked, swinging a right hook and sending a guy wielding a crowbar. You winced at the sight of it, hit with Jasons memories again.

“Fine.” You grunted out as you blocked another oncomer.

“You sure? You’re favouring your left side.”

God damn you, Grayson.

“Fine. Just took a hit is all but it’ll heal quickly. You know me.”

He eyed you uncertainly. He knew you were lying but he dismissed it. Dick had always had a suspicion that more happened to you than you let on but he had never pressed you to talk about it. Though, he was going to find out much sooner than you had hoped.

You stared at the scab on your thigh in the mirror; it would soon become a new addition to the tapestry of scars that covered your body. It was ragged, torn and an ugly reminder of the blade that stuck out of the young Wayne’s leg. Some of the scars that marred up your smooth skin were yours, though most of them once belonged to the boys.

The scars flecked almost every inch of your body, all varying in size and shape. Some were small and round, others long and jagged and some in between. And though the scars saved your boys, you couldn’t sometimes help but wish that you weren’t left with them. Sometimes, it all became too much. For example when you healed a wound that had been forced upon them in such a brutal way that you would lie awake for hours with your eyes squeezed shut tight as you curled up on your bed waiting for the haunting memories to pass. Although your abilities meant that you healed quicker, sometimes you were still left managing the wound for days as it healed whilst still trying to hide it from the boys. You suffered in silence, often pondering if you should just tell them… but you never did. And it was worth it because seeing them okay put a smile on your face.

You didn’t like to talk much about your abilities and how they worked, no matter how much they pressed you. Everytime the topic was brought up you would go quiet, or quickly change the subject, trying not to let the feelings resurface. You buried them deep to keep your secret.

“You okay, kid?” Jason frowned as you walked into the library, poorly disguising the last of your limp. He was lounging on one of the couches as he delved into one of Bruce’s many hardbacks.

“Yeah I’m fine.” you dismissed, running your finger over the spines as you scanned the shelf for something to read to try and give yourself something to do for a few hours while your leg continued to heal.

“You said that earlier.” Dick poked his head around the door, noting the way you tilted most of your weight onto your left foot as you stood on your toes to grab a book. “Your leg still bothering you?”

“A little, but it’s healing.” You shrugged, taking your book over to the couch and settling beside Jason.

The eldest Wayne frowned, forcing wrinkles onto his forehead. “Shouldn’t a hit have healed by now?”

You cursed mentally. “It was a nasty hit.”

“You know, thinking about it didn’t Damian take a knife to the thigh?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Damian appeared in the doorway with Tim. “Y/N healed me though.”

“Strange.” Dick noted, tilting his head to look at you. The four of them had had a suspicion for a little while that something was going on. The way you avoided the topic was like having a sign waving above your head.

“... it’s just a coincidence.”

“Just like the time you injured your arm training after healing my broken one?” Tim had you stuck.

You bit your lip in the silence of the room.

“Fine. Maybe I haven’t been totally honest with you all.”

Jason sat up and leaned forwards in his seat “Go on.”

You took a deep breath, preparing for their onslaught as you revealed the truth. “When I heal a wound, it doesn’t just…vanish.” The four of them watched you intently and you could feel a sheen of sweat try to break out across your forehead. “It transfers to me instead.”

Damian stared at you agape “But…”

“You’ve healed us so many times.” Dick said. “That's gotta be…”

Tugging your hoodie over your head, you revealed the scars to them for the first time. Tim had to hold back his shock.

“Oh y/n/n…” The vigilantes all looked at the countless scars that covered your skin.

“They’re not all yours.” You tried to lighten the mood, albeit it seemed to have little effect.

“How have we been letting you do this? We should have know-”

“Stop.” You shut Tim down. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Healing you is… special. Making sure that you guys get to live another day is more important to me than anything.”

“But you’re hurting yourself…” Damian said shyly, feeling incredibly guilty.

“It doesn’t hurt bad. My accelerated healing means I can get rid of wounds that would take weeks for you to heal in a number of days. Sometimes hours. I like helping you.”

The boys narrowed their eyes at you. They were sceptical however they could see the truth behind it. You were selfless; always giving to others in need. They didn’t like that you were being hurt because of their recklessness, and they were angry with themselves that you felt you couldn’t tell them the truth, but they could see the reasoning behind it.

“Besides” You added. “I think the scars are pretty cool. Like a piece of artwork. And I can use them to blackmail you in the future.” You grinned.

“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes. “They are pretty cool though…”

There was a nod of agreement.

“Thank you. y/n/n.” Dick said. “I honestly don’t know what we would do without you.”

“Bleed out and die probably.” You joked and he hummed with laughter.

“On a serious note,” Dick added “We have seriously got to stop getting hurt so much.”

🦇 Batfam Taglist:

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@aestheticdaisies

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syrma-sensei · 4 months

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→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

word count: 3.4k

summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath.

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

#soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #the boys imagine #the boys fanfic #the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy/ben

723 notes · View notes

myysaints · 1 year

Text

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LN4 ꒱ PICTURES OF YOU ─ LANDO NORRIS

LANDO NORRIS x f!model!reader

⌗︙・ summary — lando accidentally slips up on stream, revealing he has a girlfriend. chaos subsequently ensues.

genre — social media au, fc yeji from itzy

notes — as a fashion girlie myself this was like scripting my ideal life LOL. i love lando and i'm so excited for baku!!! hopefully he can haul ass and get that mclaren to podium - or at least a girl can dream. also gif not mine!!! pics are all from pinterest :) hope you enjoy this one! sorry for the crunchy quality on the tweets, can't seem to find a high quality tweet maker 😭

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, hoooooyeony, bellahadid, and 1,263,402 others

yourusername new york, it’s been a minute ❤️

view all 564,221 comments

bellahadid so great to see u on the runway again! xx

yourusername had so much fun with u babe xx

miumiu 🤍🩰

heconghc pretty girl

Liked by landonorris yourusername all u ❤️

maxitaxi anyone else notice lando lurking in the comments? 🤨

landonorrizz my guy aint slick at ALL 🤣 y/nults lmfaooo leave him alone he just like us fr Liked by landonorris

tifosiiibabe So Lando and Y/N were both in NY at the same time, AND he’s liking every comment calling her pretty?

lulusdelulu the math is, in fact, mathing…. yukismatchagirl Y/N WAG CONFIRMED!!!!!!!

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, daniel.jpg, f1, and 3,219,004 others

lando.jpg Singapore. Shot by Lando Norris.

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daniel.jpg you’re gonna give me a run for my money mate!

lando.jpg All’s fair in love and war, mate

yourusername talented showstopping incredible!!!!!

Liked by lando.jpg

yourusername

Liked by lando.jpg, lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 14,912 others

yourusername shot by my love

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yourbestfriend okayyyyyy so the mystery man has skillz!

yourusername On and off the track ;)

lilymhe gorgeous baby!!!! date me!!!!!

alex_albon :((( yourusername 🤭 alex_albon sleep with five eyes open, y/n >:(

y/nsbiggestfan y/n interacting with lily he and alex albon i prayed for days like these

kimikimchi y/n at the paddock WHEN

y/nnspinkiefinger no one talking about this post being a literal soft launch ?????

takeawalk omg yeah and the “on and off the track” comment…. SO HE IS A DRIVER!!!!! landooonorizz fr like “SHOT BY LANDO NORRIS” “SHOT BY MY LOVE”. IF 1+1=2....

yourusername added to their story. 17s

[caption: gooooooo teammmmmmmm @/mclaren]

f1wagupdates

Liked by landonorris, and 34,021 others

f1wagupdates Cause for celebration! After his podium win at the Singapore Grand Prix, fans spotted Lando Norris enjoying a night to remember with a mystery woman on a small motorboat not far from the Sentosa resort at which he allegedly stayed at. Fans reported the couple being “all over each other” and “laughing the night away”. 🥂🪩

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maxitaxi that is so definitely yourusername you don’t even have to think for a minute

sarascardriving BROOOOO tagging her is crazy 😭😭 maxitaxi and i’ll do it again. so yourusername when’s the hard launch? maxitaxi as a matter of fact. landonorris when’s the Y/N .jpg feature?

drivingmeinsane lando liked omfg

kikilikeskiwi all thanks to maxitaxi thank you for your service 🫡

lando.jpg

Liked by daniel.jpg, yourusername, pierregasly, and 1,293,334 others

lando.jpg You ask, I deliver.

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maxitaxi I-

Liked by lando.jpg

yourusername hot damn norris. who’s the pretty lady?

lando.jpg 🤷‍♂️

daniel.jpg Man, you’re gonna put me out of business!

lando.jpg Too bad I have the prettiest muse. Liked by yourusername

charles_leclerc Wearing the superior team colours I see.

lando.jpg Don’t even start, I can take you on anyday Frenchie louderlauda OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH HE HIT HIM WHERE IT HURTS yourusername low blow, norris, low blow lando.jpg 😔 sorry ma’am reorgegussellshirt 🤳📸

danielricciardo added to their story. 38s

[caption: making a @/lando.jpg post]

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, heidiberger, and 2,219,442 others

yourusername sun’s out & fun’s out!

view all 213,459 comments

bellahadid glowing

lilyrosedepp mother is mothering!

landonorris ahem, pic creds?

yourusername 🙄 thanks i guess…. landonorris we can talk about my payment when you get home 😉 This comment has been removed.

barbiealbono “when you get home” UM. HELLO????

dannyr333 Sooooo the girl Lando was taking a pic of for lando.jpg on danielricciardo 's story is … Y/N?

tsunodascupcake girl you lost me at Lando betaromeo no fr like i had a stroke tryna read that 😭

lando.jpg

Liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and 4,213,577 others

🏷 yourusername

lando.jpg lost the pic but gained some great memories 🎞 have this one instead as an apology

Comments on this post have been limited.

yourusername what a great shot

lando.jpg well, it’s pretty easy when you have a great muse daniel.jpg We get it, the two of you are in love. Now leave the rest of us in peace lando.jpg Wow, thanks for the support, Daniel yourusername you’re uninvited from our housewarming party daniel.jpg NOOOOO I TAKE IT BACK I TAKE IT BACKKKKKKKKK

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 8,213,994 others

🏷 landonorris

yourusername swapping out the soft launch for the hard launch 🛞 did i get it right landonorris ?

view all 657,492 comments

landonorris nailed it ❤️ couldn’t have been prouder my love

yourusername does this mean i get to pick the movie tonight? landonorris You’re cute, but not that cute landonorris Just kidding babe i love you landonorris Babe landonorris Baby? landonorris I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean it you can pick the movie you can pick dinner just call me back PLEASE landonorris …Y/N? yourusername whoops sorry my phone died !!!! what happened here???? landonorris …. yourusername LOL love you babe xx yourusername soooooooo do i still get to pick the movie tonight…? landonorris i love you, so fine. yourusername ❤️ !!!! landonorris 😊

#f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #lando norris insta au #lando norris x y/n #lando norris one shot #lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 x reader #˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1

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kombuuuu · 11 months

Note

Hello✋🏾! If I could request a Peter b parker x wife!reader where they have twins (including mayday) during the events of the movie?

No.1 Dad!

“Baby, Please. It’s a canon thing!”

“They’re toddlers!”

PeterBParker x Wife!Reader + little ones :]

light angst and a chase scene. ending is mostly comforting daddy parker

(it’s not sad i jus ❤️ this gif)

(Benjy is a canon named Kid of Peter B Parker’s in the Comics!)

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“Oh shit.”

The father of two grimaced at the room full of spidey people. The voice of his wife sounding through the phone and into the echoing room.

“Tell me, why the fuck-“ Peter dragged a worried hand down his face. Miles snickering next to Hobie in the background. “—I woke up, to not only my *husband missing from my bed.” He sucked in a breath, glancing over at Miguel. Stood unimpressed with two spider-children climbing all over him and his platform. “But my two toddlers *lost from their damn cribs.” “Baby, I can explain.” He focused back on the phone, crowding over it like it would help conceal the conversation at all.

“You are in so much shit when you get home, young man.”

“I’m older than you by four years!”

“Watch your tone with me, Mister.”

He groaned, huffing and pouting into the phone while you continued to scold him before Miguel interrupted.

“Good morning, [name]. Hope you slept well.” His monotoned voice drawled out while picking the children off his clothes like bugs, and putting them back on Peter.

“Leave my wife alone.”

“Oh my god, please go somewhere private for this conversation.” Miguel rubbed between his eyes, his favourite thing to do apparently.

Your voice spoke back over him. “I don’t need privacy, I need my damn— Oh! Found it.”

“Baby, what are you—“ The connection cut off midway through his sentence, causing him to huff before realising; “Hey! That got me out of it!”

He straightened his posture, collecting his kids, Mayday and Benjy. And stuffing them into their baby carriers, carefully threading their limbs through each limb-window, as he called it.

A sparkle of warm tones caught his eye, circling from nothing into a fully developed portal.

“Oh, I should’ve known.”

“I seem to be making you say ‘Oh’ a lot.”

“You should’a heard you last night.”

“Peter!” He laughed as he watched you make your way over to him, giving Miguel a courteous nod and Miles a questioning glance. You looked so beautiful. An angel to him, the love of his life. He was so lucky to have you. And the little family you had created for yourselves. All the baby-stealing and stupid pictures aside, you were beyond enamoured with him as well.

“You’re lucky I still have this old thing, Parker. Or you wouldn’t have wanted to come home.

Despite the obvious threat, the only thing he could focus on was “come home”. A sentiment that was single to just your home, or just his home. But it was home. For a family, his family.

The admiration was broken when you pinched his nose. “Ow!”

“Shouldn’t have taken my kids.”

“Our kids!”

“Yeah whatever.”

You turned to Miguel, scanning the room and being very unsurprised at the amount of spider people here. If it was something important, Miguel loved a show. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… explaining something.”

“Uhuh.” you blinked at him slowly, unbelieving.

“Stop talking to my wife.” peter cut in.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake, [name].-“ He threw his hands up, then gestures aggressively towards the kid next to Hobie.

“It’s his father, or an entire universe!”

“She’s not into you weirdo, back off.”

“Uhuh. And how old is the kid?”

He had the gall to look ashamed. Mayday babbled behind you. Giggling excitedly once she and Benjy had lost interest in whatever they were messing with on Peters suit. “Oh, come here baby.”

“How come I didn’t get that?”

Peter pouted over at you, rocking Benji gently, who was still half asleep.

You turned back around with your kid around your hip, addressing the kid near the centre of the room. “Hey uh—.”

“Miles!” He perked up, shyly waving at you.

“Oh, Miles! Peter talks so much about you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“He even named our dog after you!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” You smiled at Miles whilst he smiled back, happy to know Peter thought of him as much as he did Peter.

“You too, Mrs.Parker!”

“Don’t listen to this lady, she’s crazy and a psychopath!”

Peter stepped into place beside you, shaking his one un-baby-occupied hand in the air wildly.

“She’s off her meds!”

“Peter.”

He grumbled and stuck his tongue out. Blowing a raspberry, which Mayday happily replicated. You put the tip of your finger on Maydays tongue, pushing it back into her mouth. “Don’t do that, germs.”

turning away from peter, you kissed her cheek in apology, whispering “It’s not you, it’s him.” In her tiny ear.

You propped your free hand on your hip, looking up at Miguel on his platform.

He looked away. Hand settling below his chin as he closed his eyes and sighed.

“There’s that contemplative expression again.”

“Why is he always contemplating, nothing’s that serious.”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. He crept up close to you, putting his arm around you waist and leaning down to smell your perfume.

“I like that one.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to look at him, “I know,”.

Miguel continued on with his explanation, showing miles the different Canon events. Showing him Peters, Gwen’s, yours. When Miles seems to suddenly realise something.

“The Spot does it.” His hands shake alongside his voice, Peter glances over to you in worry, but ultimately focuses back on Miles. “He kills ‘im.” The boys shoulders drop in defeat.

“When does it happen.”

Miguel looks away, shaking his head and wincing.

Miles turns to the small group surrounding him, helpless.

“When does it happen?!”

“In two days,” Miles whips back towards him. “When he’s sworn in.”

“That’s- what the model says.”

“I’ sorry Miles-“

“Send me home.”

“I can’t do that, not now.”

Gwen winces and squeezes her eyes shut. Body stuff and unmoving.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let him die?!”

Miguel pauses. And doesn’t relent.

Miles’s face contorts for a second before he turns, gesturing vaguely at Gwen.

“What about your dad? He’s a captain, right?”

She just sighs, “Yeah.”

“Wh- And that’s it! You guys aren’t even gonna do anything about it?!”

Gwen looks down, ashamed.

Mayday grabs hold of your finger. Noting the serious tones of the situation, she stays quiet. He scoffs and turns to Peter.

“Okay what about Uncle Ben? That’d been okay? If you knew and you just—,” he stuttered, “Let it play out?!”

Peter stepped forward, putting a reassuring hand on his students shoulder. “If not for uncle ben, most of us wouldn’t be here Miles.”

He pauses to look at the webbed window of his Ben.

“The good we did it-,” he breathes, “It wouldn’t have been done.”

You harden your gaze over your husband. He doesn’t look at you.

Miles nods, “So we’re just’ supposed to let people die because some algorithm—!” he hits Peters hand of his shoulder and starts towards Miguel again. “Woah, woah.” Lyla interjected. “—Says that that’s supposed to happen?!”

He swings his arms in annoyance, in *fear.

This is a *kid.

“You realise how messed up that sounds, right?”

With a better moral code than most in this room.

“You have a choice between saving one person—“ The slow approach of other spider people filled out the fog coating the room. “—And saving an entire world, every world!” Miguel points at him, hand on hip.

“I can do both!” He tries,

“Spiderman always-,”

“Not always.”

Miles looks to Peter, seeking back up. Peters face twists something sorry, and Miles’s flashes of hurt.

Benji starts to wake up, cooing softly at his dad.

Miguel’s hand gently turns the boy back around, this isn’t looking good.

You glance at Hobie, seeing the apprehension in his posture as he meets your gaze.

He glanced down at Mayday in question, you reassure him with a nod. If it comes to it, you’ll put her in peters baby carrier for safety. He nods back.

“Miles, we all want to lead the life we wish we had.” When Miles shrugs him off he raises his hands.

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”His hands slowly lowered. Miles’ breathing got heavier.

“And the harder I tried, the more damage I did.”

“You can’t have it all, kid.”

Miles looked around in panic, noticing the faces creeping up on him. He makes eye contact with you, and you try and signal your support.

If you run, I’ll run too.

“Being Spiderman is a sacrifice. That’s the job, that’s what you signed up for.”

A robotic voice caught your attention as a large suit approached the outer circle.

“Miles.” The faceplate opened.

“Penny?”

He put up his defences once more.

“What is this?” He yelled, the force of his words drawing an immediate attention. “Is this an intervention or something?”

“We know it’s hard, but it’s the truth, Miles.”

You glare at the faces around you, Adjusting Mayday on your hip and keeping an eye out for your two boys.

Miles and Benji.

Peter will be dealt with later.

Miles stumbles back, righting his foot and turning to Peter.

“Is that why you’re here? To—“

he clenched his fist, “To let me down easy?”

You watch your lover closely, the look on his face telling you all you need to know, and apparently same goes for Miles.

“It worked last time, why not run it back huh?” his voice was raising, Benji getting uncomfortable at the tone.

“Woah- hey, hold on. Hold on!” He raised his hand in a placating matter, trying to tune Miles down.

“You were right, Gwen.”

You glanced up at her, his venomed whisper doing its intended purpose, hurt.

“You should have never come to see me.”

Peter slowly approached Miles, bending down to his height like a person to a stray dog.

“Kid, look at me-“ “Stop callin’ me that.”

“There you go.” You sent Hobie a huff of appraise.

“Hobie, you’re not helping.”

“Good.”

Miles gratefully nodded at him.

“Miles, please understand-“ Peter tried.

“Peter.” Your stern voice interrupted him, and he shut down his attempt.

“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.”

You glared at Miguel, only noticing the barrier a little too late. It opened under Miles, trapping him within when the inner circle started to protest.

“Miguel just give him a second! Please!”

“Dont! Stop it.”

“You let him leave, he’ll only do more damage.”

Gwen intervened, “Enough!”

You rushed towards the barrier with Mayday, her reaching for the barrier in confusion. You can’t help him out of this, you don’t know how.

“Miguel, let him out! He’s a kid.” You raised your voice. Weaponising your authority.

“Miguel this is too far.”

“[Name], it’ll only hold him few days.” He turned around to walk away.

Miles was panicking, banging on the barriers walls and spinning to try and find a weak point. His eyes caught onto Hobie. Doing nothing but holding his palms out, and giving him an earnest look. “Sorry it had to end like this, kid.”

“I said—“ Miles placed his hands flat on the barrier, right above his head. Palms out, You backed up shielding Mayday and dragging Peter to turn around and using him as a body block for Benji.

“—Not-“ The barriers begun to crack, shatter like glass.

“—To call me that!” A wave of energy pushed everyone down as the barrier broke, exploding in a mess of bright colours.

You heard Hobie chuckle, and looked up at Miles in amazement. A second where he caught your eye, he darted. Running straight for the exit.

“Miles!” Miguel screeched.

You stuffed Mayday in her carrier in record time and blew them a kiss as you pounced from your position to catch up with Miles.

Unbeknownst to you, Your husband, along with every other spider person, would follow. Except Hobie.

“Just for the record, I quit.”

—

You had found Miles being interrogated by your lover, him holding up your two children like bribing toys.

“C’mon- just hold ‘em!”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Miles manoeuvred slyly through all the cranks and pipes, your Spidey following swiftly behind him. “Just one hold! It’s rejuvenating!”

“I’m plenty juvenated!” Miles retorted.

You were going to interrupt when you lagged behind a bit, getting stuck on a moving pipe.

When you finally freed yourself, you stumbled into a cute moment between the two.

“I wanted them to be like you!”

He stared at your husband, vulnerable and scared, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face.

Mayday and Benji bickered with each other in his hold.

Peters watch suddenly lit up.

“Okay, Peter I’ve got your location.”

Their faces dropped, betrayal raw on the young boys.

“No, no. You do not have my location!”

Him peeling open the crate to the industrial fans, and slipping in. You using your webs to sling in after him and pull the crate shut behind you. Catching Peters fleeting glance before what seemed twenty different spider people broke through the crate, smashing through fans.

You followed miles swiftly, through the busses and over cartops. Using your webs to keep up with him. He wasn’t bad, for someone so young.

“I’m a great mentor!”

You huffed at Peters distant offended tone. “Sure, baby.” You muttered.

You hooked around a building, watching as Miles cut himself off from Gwen. Her hand reaching out for him as he fell. Your spidey senses caught your attentions, tingling in the forefront of your mind. You zeroed in on Miles and watched as he aimed for the train. It hadn’t looked like anyone else had caught on yet. Still scrambling to get to him, instead of trying to cut him off.

—

Miguel had the kid by the throat. Slamming him against the train doors and dragging his body up with him. You watched in fear as he spoke to the boy.

“You’re a mistake!”

You screamed at him from your position below, begging for him to just let the kid go. Miles caught you gaze. You fought against the wind, trying hard to get to him, and keeping an eye on Peter and your babies.

“If you hadn’t been bit-!” Miguel slammed his back again. You winced. “Your Peter Parker would have lived!”

Miles struggled against him, trying to push off the claws attacking him. “Instead he died- Saving you.”

“He would have stopped the collider before it went off. Spot wouldn’t exist-“ “Peter!” “-And none of this, would have happened.”

The three of you climbed to get to them. You grabbed Benji off peter, Cradling him in your arms as the winds were getting too rough.

Miguel slammed him back again, crowding over the small boy and growling his words.

“And all this time— I have been the only one holding all this together.”

“Miguel go easy on him!” Peter called down from his spot behind you, he sounded devastated, your heart broke for him. You knew how much he loved Miles, thinking of him almost like his first son. Your husband would bring him up so often, wondering what he was doing when he could see through the Spidey-Windows Miguel would (angrily) provide.

He always stressed when Miles had to figure out things himself, saying things like “Just give me a day with him, we’ll figure it out!” “He’s a kid Miguel. Wouldn’t you have wanted a mentor back then?” “I’m a great mentor.” “You just don’t see my brilliance.”

Benji babbled in your arms and you cooed back at him, spider beanie pulled snug over his face. Huh, he was pretty rejuvenating.

Miguel leaned closer, growling words of disgust to the kid.

“Let me go!” Miles struggled against him. A choked sound came from Peter, and when you looked back at him you swore you could see his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Miguel that’s enough!” Gwen shouted.

“This isn’t what we talked about!”

Miles stopped struggling.

“You talked about this?” He looked down at Peter, heart breaking.

“You knew?”

Peter looked down, ashamed. Clinging onto the train but no longer climbing. Mayday held tightly to his chest with the other hand, he caught your eye.

“Peter what did you do..” Your breath escaped you and the words came out a whisper, flown away by the winds around you.

“You all knew?”

Your head shot up, starting to disagree before Gwen spoke.

“I.. I didn’t know..” She looked away, unable to face him.

“How to tell you.”

“That’s why you never came to see me.”

“Miles it’s for your own good!”

He pushed forwards.

“Who decides that?”

Miguel pushed back.

“I’m not a kid Gwen.”

Miguel grunted, slamming him again, the dent in the train deepening every time. “That’s exactly what you are! You’re just a kid!”

“Who has no idea what he’s doing!” Miles grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to squirm further from the beast on him.

His fingers sparked.

Miguel shoved his forearm against Miles’ neck, pushing his face against broken metal.

“Yeah well, I did get hundreds of Spider people away from your own club house.”

The roaring of spider people climbing the train travelled straight to Miguel’s ears.

“I guess he did plan this out!”

You smiled up at him. Seeing him smug back.

“And, I’m about to do this.”

He latched his sparking fingers onto Miguel’s shoulders. Clenching down and watching the starts of his electricity flow through the man’s arms.

The elder was the on struggling now, confused grunts paired with an effort to escape the boys hold.

“Everyone keeps tellin’ me how my story is s’posed to go.

Nah, Imma do my own thing.”

He pushed his whole hands against blue spiders chest.

“Sorry, but i’m going home.”

He pushed Miguel off of him right as he ignited the current buzzing underneath their veins. And watched as the Brunettes body ragdolled off of him and shot off the train and into the open sky.

The fanged man dragged his hand through waves of spider people, struggling to catch himself against smooth metal.

You looked back up at Miles, as he stood, connected by a single web to the speeding train.

“Goodbye, Gwen.”

He cut the thread and fell.

Gwen yelled for him, a call of his name. But peter? Peter just watched with his heart in his throat. His own betrayal heavy on his heart.

—

You were finally at home again. The stress of the day weighing high on the both of you. Even Mayday and Benji seemed to have noticed the tension.

Getting tired over all the moving and all the fighting, it was barely 7:30 before they were dead asleep.

“You think we’re bad parents?”

You were stood leaning over he crib, arms rested on its gates. Peter crowded over you, covering you in his smell and feeling. The weight on his body pressing against your back was akin to a weighted blanket, grounding you as you watched your sweet children breathe.

“Nah, Everyone has their first chase.”

“Well,..”

“Ehhh, want to see the cute photo I got of Benj and May?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

—

Your husband had been off the whole rest of the night. When you two had sat down together to watch the first mind numbing thing you could find, he couldn’t stop moving. Jittering with nerves.

You were waiting patiently for him to work the courage to say what he needed. Not ever preparing for something like this.

“Think Miles hates me?” It was said slyly. Like he was playing it off to be nothing, but the tension in his shoulder told you otherwise. “I think he’ll be hurt. And upset, but I don’t think he hates you.” He picked at his nails as you spoke, you curled your hands over the expanse of his chest and fit your ledge over his waist, he looked up at you through wet lashes.

“Are you sure cause-“ He cut himself off with a clear of his throat, not wanting to sob over something so *stupid in his head.

“Oh, baby. You’re so sweet, but he could never hate you.”

Peters hands stopped fiddling with themselves, smoothening down the curve of your ass and the small of your back.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded relieved, if not a little suspicious.

He dug his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Creep.”

He nipped at your skin lightly in retaliation.

“Miguel talks to you too much.”

“Every sentence we shared was negative.”

“He’s like that.”

You scoffed at him playfully and he smiled into your neck, turning his cheek to your skin and watching you. “I’ll make sure next time we talk, it’ll be in sign.”

“No, I don’t speak ASL, what if he says something about me?”

“He says something about you out loud, baby.”

“Yeah but I can’t hear it if he’s signing.”

—

Even later in the night, when you heard the shower running and soft sobs coming from the bathroom. You did nothing but undress and climb in with him. Rubbing your hands soothingly down his back, spreading soap along his chest and back and massaging it in deep for him.

You let him hold himself up against you, and pretended not to notice the difference between the shower water and his tears. You dragged him down to your height, a hand tucked into his soft hair before your lips met his. He would settle his hands on your hips, push you ever closer to him. And take the comfort you gave him in stride.

Eventually you would pay mine to your water bill, and would dry each other off carefully, get dressed together and settle in your shared bed. It was 1 AM now, but you couldn’t care less, being in the arms of your lover had outweighed any negatives lack of sleep could bestow. He would make it up to Miles. Solve the problems of the universe (multiverse), and have you two meet for real. Introducing Miles to his wife, and his son to his twins.

—

I WENT OFF THE RAILSSSS

probs making a part two later, for more peter daddy snippets and cute kids plus wifey reader

#peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #peter benjamin parker #peter x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o’hara #mayday parker #hobie brown

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 11 months

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A Real Daddy?

Summary: You sat in bed watching Pedro's latest interview; Jeff Bridges: "Are you a daddy?" Pedro: "I'm not a daddy. And I'm not gonna be a daddy!"

Your heart shattered at his words as you looked over at the bathroom where six positive tests were sitting on the sink.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: language, mentions of abortion

A/N: This fanfic was a commission request. She wanted a short Pedro x Reader where Y/N is nervous to tell him that she is pregnant, and after watching his Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview, I had to incorporate it into the fic. I hope you all enjoy it ❤️ (gif found on Google, credit to the owner)

You and Pedro had been together for a couple of years now after meeting long ago on the set of Game of Thrones.

The two of you had hit it off right away and had become close friends during the filming of Season 4, but somewhere along the way that friendship had turned into so much more.

Watching Pedro perform as Oberyn Martell wearing that mustard-coloured robe with his unique accent, you never stood a chance. The man was a gift sent from the Gods and for whatever reason, he had taken a liking to you.

"Are you sure you're okay? You still look a little pale." Pedro observed, leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom. His beautiful brown eyes met yours from where you were laying under the blankets, and you could see the concern washing over him as he stared at you.

"I'm probably just coming down with something. I'll be fine. Aren't you meant to be at the airport by now?" You asked, glancing at the alarm clock on your nightstand with a frown.

He had less than an hour before boarding. He really should be halfway to the airport by now.

"Maybe I should reschedule. I don't want to leave you alone-"

"Pedro. You can't reschedule, you start filming Gladiator tomorrow. I'm fine. I promise." You reassured, but your words didn't seem to reassure him in the slightest and you sighed.

He had been working so hard for his new role in Gladiator. With his vigorous diet and workout routine, he had pushed his body to the max for this role. You were so incredibly proud of him. There was no way you were letting him reschedule.

"You were throwing up all morning. You're not fine. I want to take care of you." He all but whispered, walking into the room and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he cupped your face gently and smiled softly at you. You leant into his touch and rested your hand on top of his.

"I love you for that, but I don't need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself."

He sighed, "if you get any worse then you call me, okay?"

You rolled your eyes, "Pedro-"

"You call me." You repeated sternly and you nodded.

"I promise. Now, go before you miss your flight." You said, shoving him gently off the bed. "Text me when you land so I know you're okay."

"I will, baby. I love you." He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "Get some rest, okay?"

"I will. I love you, P." You replied smiling softly at him before he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the room.

Life as you knew it continued on as per usual. That weird stomach bug would come and go, but you just put it down to work stress and bad food.

Pedro was still filming Gladiator overseas and wasn't due back home for another couple of weeks. It was hard whenever he was away, which was fairly often with your line of work. Acting was a very demanding job and although you were taking a break for a while after you had just finished shooting you last movie, Pedro had job after job lined up for the rest of the year.

You were happy for him though. From Narcos to The Mandalorian to The Last of Us, he had really shot to fame. He was the talk of the whole internet at the moment, and you were so proud of how far he had come, you honestly couldn't be happier for him, but a small jealous part of you sometimes wished he wasn't as popular.

He had writers and directors calling and emailing him constantly about job offers and interviews. The two of you rarely got to spend any time together.

It was part of the job though. You both lived busy lives with your acting careers. You knew it would be like this when you first started dating. The two of you had spoken about it before making things official between you, knowing that if you were really serious with each other that you guys would make it work, and you have. But it still sucked sometimes.

However, as you sat on the edge of your bathtub staring at the pregnancy test on the sink, you wished more than anything that he was here with you now.

There were still a few minutes before the test was done and you sat anxiously tapping the empty packet against your knee while you waited.

Neither of you had really spoken about wanting kids in the future. The topic had just never come up. You were too busy with your careers to even think about having kids, but now you were really wishing that you and Pedro have had that conversation. Did he even want kids? Did you even want kids? It was too much to think about.

As if on cue, your phone suddenly began to vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out to find Pedro's name on your screen.

He was calling you.

Shit.

You glanced over at the upturned test before taking in a deep breath and pressing the little green accept button.

"Hey!" You said into the phone with as much joy and excitement as possible, not wanting him to know that something was wrong.

"Hey, baby. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you feeling? My sister called and said you sounded a little flat yesterday on the phone."

Yeah, yesterday wasn't a great day. Your body decided that it didn't want to keep any food inside of you, even the plain toast for breakfast came back up. His sister had called at the worst possible time for a chat. You had tried to sound normal, but apparently you hadn't fooled her. You should have known she would tell him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wasn't feeling great yesterday. I'm good today though, but enough about me. How's Gladiator going?" You asked, and if Pedro noticed your sudden change in topic, he didn't comment on it.

"It is great! Joe and I had this really intense fight scene, and we did it in one take! Which was crazy because during rehearsal we kept laughing and dropping our swords, but we totally nailed it."

You smiled at how happy he sounded as you stared at the pregnancy test packet in your hand anxiously. You couldn't tell him. He was happy and in the middle of filming and you probably weren't pregnant anyway, no point in making him worry for no reason, right?

"Sounds like you've had a good day then." You replied.

"The best! Oh, remember when I did that Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview?"

"With Jeff Bridges, Evan Peters and the other guys?"

"Yeah, that one. It's finally been released.

"Finally! I've been dying to watch it. Is it on YouTube?" You asked, putting him on speaker while you opened up the YouTube app on your phone to find it.

"You don't have to watch it. It goes for alike an hour and I'm probably just staring at Jeff Bridges the whole time. I don't know how I got through any scenes with him back when we were filming Kingsman together, that man is a legend." He admitted with a chuckle.

"Well now I have to watch it." You responded causing Pedro to laugh through the phone before you heard a voice shout in the background, but you couldn't hear what they were saying.

Pedro sighed, "sorry, baby. I gotta get back on set. I'll call you a bit later."

"Go knock 'em dead, Gladiator. Talk later." You replied before hanging up the phone.

You found the interview on YouTube and glanced over at the pregnancy test on the sink before shaking your head. You couldn't look yet... you didn't want to look yet because if it was positive... you had no idea what you were going to do.

So instead, you walked into your bedroom and connected your phone to the television on the wall and played the Hollywood Reporter Roundtable interview hoping it would distract you.

The interview did distract you. It was a good interview and whoever decided to sit Pedro and Kieran Culkin next to each other deserved a raise because they were fantastic together.

You had almost forgotten about the pregnancy test, you were so invested in the interview until the interviewer bought up the topic of 'daddy'.

"Uh, yeah. I am." Pedro answered the question with a smile. "I am having fun with it. It seems a little role related. I think. The Mandalorian is very daddy to baby Grogu. Joel is very daddy to Ellie. These are daddy parts."

"Are you a daddy?" Jeff Bridges had asked from across the table.

"I'm not a daddy. And I am not gonna be a daddy!" Came Pedro's answer.

He didn't want to be a daddy.

That thought hadn't really occurred to you. Pedro didn't actually want kids... you knew that was a possibility since you guys had never spoken about it, but he really didn't want to be a father.

The interview was still playing on the tv, but you had long ago stopped listening.

What if you were pregnant? What were you going to do?

Abruptly, you jumped off the bed and rushed to the bathroom and your stomach dropped when you saw the two little pink lines on the pregnancy test. It was positive.

Your body was paralysed where you stood, unable to tear your eyes off the stick. That couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

But after six positive tests later, you were forced to face reality.

You were pregnant. With Pedro's baby... but he didn't want to be a father.

Pedro had stated publicly during that interview that he didn't want to be a daddy, but you were pregnant. How were you meant to tell him? When should you tell him? You couldn't tell him now. He was in the middle of filming one of the biggest roles of his career. You couldn't dump this on him now. No way.

Pedro's boisterous laugher came from the tv in your bedroom and you sighed, listening to him. His laugh had always been contagious, and you could hear the others in the interview all now laughing as well.

You loved Pedro. And he loved you too, but you couldn't go forcing this baby on him, a baby that he definitely didn't want. How could the two of you have a baby anyway? Between your busy careers, there was no time for a baby. It wouldn't be practical. It wouldn't work.

In the end, you decided to ignore the problem for now. It wasn't like it was going anywhere. So, you ignored it. Maybe you were a little in denial about the whole thing, but any normal person would be.

Pedro had noticed something was wrong almost immediately when he next called. You tried to act normal, but he knew you better than you knew yourself so hiding anything from him was stupid, but you kept trying.

He knew you were lying to him whenever he asked if you were okay, but you weren't about to drop the biggest bombshell of his life on him over a phone call. So, you kept lying.

It wasn't until a few weeks later that you came home to find Pedro sitting on the couch with your laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. That in itself wasn't anything unusual, he always used your laptop to check his emails or play solitaire. But him being home a whole week before the end of shooting was definitely not right.

He hadn't noticed you enter the house. He seemed too focused on something on your laptop and whatever it was, you knew it wasn't good by the way he sat with his body tense and jaw clenched.

Did something happen?

"Hey!" You greeted happily, despite the worry churning in your stomach. "I thought you weren't meant to be back until next week."

Pedro turned his head in your direction, his usual bright brown eyes were dull and hard, his brow furrowed in a frown as he turned back to the laptop.

"We finished early. I was going to surprise you." He answered, his voice flat compared to his usual cheery smiley tone, and he looked away from you avoiding your eyes.

Okay, something was definitely wrong.

"What's going on? You seem... I don't know, did something happen?" You asked worriedly, dumping your keys on the bench before walking over and sitting beside him on the couch.

"Why don't you tell me."

You frowned, "I'm not following."

"I went to check my emails, but this was already open when I turned it on." He explained, leaning forward and tilting the laptop screen towards you.

You squinted a little staring at the laptop on the coffee table before your eyes widened in utter shock. It was your booking confirmation for an abortion.

Oh, God.

"You were pregnant." He said, but it wasn't a question, he had already figured it out.

You looked away feeling tears burning in the back of your eyes. He was angry. He was trying to hold his anger back, you could tell, but he was angry. Pedro was angry at you.

"Who's was it?" He asked, when you didn't say anything.

"What?"

"Who was the father?" He repeated, causing you to look over at him in confusion. "You got an abortion without talking to me, so it obviously wasn't mine. Who was it?"

Wait, what?

Did he seriously think that...

"You think I cheated on you?" You asked in disbelief because that couldn't be what he was implying, right? You've been together for years, he wouldn't think you would do that. He wouldn't.

"Who?" He demanded, his beautiful brown eyes full of so much anger and sadness, it made your heart break.

"I didn't cheat on you. I'd never-"

"Don't lie to me!" He snapped.

You flinched back at his raised voice like he had physically slapped you across the face. Pedro had never yelled at you before. Sure, you guys have argued, every couple did, but he had never raised his voice, not like this.

The anger in his eyes subsided a bit, a flash of guilt washing over him. Instantly regretting his actions before he shook his head and stood up from the couch, heading towards the front door.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted at you. I just need a minute to clear my head." He said over his shoulder.

"I didn't get the abortion and I didn't cheat on you!" You hurriedly yelled, not wanting him to leave.

If he left right now... you would break down. You couldn't lose him, and you didn't want him wandering the streets of LA thinking you had slept with someone else while he was away.

Pedro froze where he stood, his hand on the door handle about to open it, "what?"

You took in a deep breath, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you looked over at him, his back still facing you.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours, and I didn't get the abortion."

He slowly turned to face you, but you couldn't gauge his reaction. His whole body was just a blur through the tears swimming in your eyes.

"You're serious?" He asked, like he couldn't quite believe it was true.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, the tears you had been trying so hard to keep back finally falling down your face. "I'm sorry, but I didn't cheat. I-I would never cheat on you. Never. I need you to know that. I would never cheat on you."

Pedro rushed across the room, dropping to his knees in front of you and placing his hand on your knee as he looked up at you. All the anger that had been bubbling inside of him was now replaced with guilt.

"I know, baby. I know. I just... when I saw the email, I thought... I'm sorry. I should have never accused you of that. But why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he continued. "You booked an abortion without telling me. You didn't have to go through this alone, why didn't you tell me?"

Your heart shattered at his words because you knew that was true. He would have dropped everything to be there for you, no matter the cost. He would have ruined his role on Gladiator for you in a heartbeat, and you wouldn't let him do that.

"I couldn't tell you." You whispered, tears still streaming down your face as you looked away from him, not wanting him to see you cry.

"Why not, baby? I would have been there for you. I wouldn't have forced you to do anything you didn't want to do, you know that, right?" He asked, seeming genuinely worried that you may have feared that.

You sniffed, "I know."

"So why couldn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice softer and gentler than you had ever heard it.

You thought back to that interview, your heart breaking all over again. I'm not a daddy. And I am never gonna be a daddy. Pedro didn't want this.

"You said you didn't want to be a daddy." You answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

You looked back over at him to find him staring at you in pure confusion and you sighed, wiping the tears from your face before elaborating.

"In that Hollywood Reporter interview. You said you didn't want to be a daddy... I watched your interview and found out I was pregnant the same day."

Pedro's expression dropped, "oh, baby-"

"And you were filming Gladiator." You quickly said, cutting him off. "So, I didn't want to tell you and distract you from that job. You've worked so hard for it, and you were so happy whenever you called from set. I-I didn't want to ruin that. But... but I knew you didn't want kids and I didn't want you to feel forced to have a kid that you didn't want-"

"Breathe, baby. Y/N, breathe." Pedro reminded, squeezing your knee gently.

You sucked in a shaky shallow breath, knowing you were working yourself up, but you had to say it all now because if you didn't than you probably weren't going to say it at all.

"I booked in for an abortion, but I couldn't go through with it. I was sitting in the waiting room, I was ready to go in, but I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You sobbed, burying your face with your hands.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. It's okay. It's okay." Pedro reassured, getting to his feet and sitting down beside you.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, holding you while you broke down in his arms. Pedro was still talking, whispering soothing words to you while you cried.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all this alone." He whispered, rubbing gentle circles over your back as he held you. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You weren't sure how long he hugged you for. The tears had eventually stopped flowing but the collar of his Lakers shirt was now damp.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, lifting your head from his chest and had to do a double take when you noticed Pedro's eyes were now red and glistening with unshed tears. Seeing him on the verge of crying made tears rise in your eyes once again, but you forced them back.

"You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing." He insisted, pulling away and cupping the side of your face with his hand, brushing the tear stains from your cheeks as he smiled softly at you. "I love you."

"You... you don't hate me?" You asked, your voice sounding as broken as you felt.

"Hate you?" He asked in shock. "I could never hate you."

"But... you don't want kids... and I'm pregnant and it's my fault and-"

"If I remember correctly, it takes two people to make a baby." He pointed out, chuckling softly as you rolled your eyes.

"I'm serious, P."

"So am I." He stated, his laughter coming to a stop as he took in a deep shaky breath. "Look, I know we've never talked about it, but I always wanted to have kids. I love kids. I love being an uncle and I love playing daddies on tv, but I had accepted that it probably wouldn't happen for me, not with my age or career."

"Pedro-" you tried to say, but he kept talking.

"I love you, Y/N. If you want to keep this baby, we will make it work, I promise. We will figure it all out. But if you don't want this, I will support that too. It is your body, baby, whatever you want to do, I will be there for you and support you."

His words sent the tears in your eyes trickling down your face once again and his own eyes softened as he brushed them away with his thumb.

"I-I don't want to force you into anything. I don't want to-"

"Baby, baby, you're not forcing me into anything." He reassured, but you shook your head.

"But the interview..."

"I said that thinking being a real daddy wasn't in the cards for me, but now it is, only if you want it to be though." He explained, putting emphasis on the last part.

You didn't say anything for a moment. A million different thoughts and emotions washing over you as you slowly nodded and met his gentle gaze.

"So, if I told you that I wanted to keep it..." You trailed off unable to finish the sentence as Pedro's eyes lit up with hope.

"I'm gonna be a real daddy?"

You smiled, "you're gonna be a real daddy."

Pedros face broke out into a bright smile, the tears in his eyes silently falling down his face before he lent forward and captured your lips with his, kissing you gently.

"I love you. I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered against your lips.

PART 2

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #oberyn martell

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halsteadlover · 4 months

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥?

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: what better thing than your boyfriend giving you a back massage?

• Warnings: no plot basically Spencer being horny, nudity, hinting of sex, cursing, highly suggestive at the end and I don’t know what else let me know if I missed something 😭

• Word count: 1906.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. I was about to write a full smut one but I was too lazy so that’s what came out 😭. I’m sorry for any mistake <3 I hope you’ll like it anyways, let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog, I’d really appreciate it ❤️ Thank you so much for your support xx

Spencer was completely obsessed with you.

There was no secret about that.

He needed to always be next to you, to have his hands on you one way or another, to touch you. He was head over heels in love with you and when he looked at you, with so much love, he wondered what you had done to him, how you managed to make him lose his mind that way.

He always found a way to always be close to you, whether it was a hand on the small of your back, or maybe playing with a lock of your hair, having your fingers intertwined with his, having a hand resting on your thighs while his fingers possessively gripping your skin, or his lips placing kisses on your shoulder as his arm circled your hip while you were out with friends. One way or another he needed to touch you.

He was just obsessed with your skin, the way goosebumps formed on it every time he touched or caressed you, with your scent. You've never been with someone who adored you like that and being with Spencer made you realize how much time you'd wasted in the past.

He’d always compliment you, constantly telling you how beautiful you were. His eyes were always and only on you, whether you were alone or among other people. He always looked at you with so much adoration and love you often wondered what the hell you had done be so lucky. You've caught him looking at you sometimes with a silly little smile on his lips and after asking if you had something on your face, “Nothing. I just love looking at you, you're so beautiful baby. I love you too much,” he would reply, leaving you like a blushing mess, which he loved the most.

He never wasted time touching you, as already mentioned, he always needed to feel some physical contact with you. Every excuse was valid for him to be able to put his hands on your body so when you asked him to give you a massage, he didn't let you repeated it twice and literally ran into the bedroom, throwing away the book he was reading.

You had just finished taking a shower and you were wearing only a short towel that barely covered your ass. Spencer immediately stopped in his footsteps and let out an appreciative whistle as his eyes studied and scanned every inch and curve of your body with painstaking attention.

You chuckled noticing the way he was looking at you, failing to hide the blush that was spreading across your cheeks. He leaned in and circled your hips, “Shit baby you're breathtaking,” he said as his hands caressed your bare skin. He dropped small kisses on your cheek, then trailed down your neck. “So damn gorgeous,” he whispered, shamelessly squeezing and groping your ass.

“Baby!” you giggled as your hands caressed his arms. You then placed them on his chest and pushed him slightly away, earning a groan of disappointment from him. “No, stop it. I called you so you can give me a massage. My back is killing me.”

“Babe. C'mon, seriously,” he retorted with a serious expression “You’re half naked in front of me and you really expect me to behave? I got a boner by just looking at you with this towel on, there's no way I can resist you.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips as you dropped the towel to the floor and stood completely naked under his hungry gaze.

“Baby…” he sighed, his mouth slightly open as if it was the first time in his life he’s seen you naked, “Holy shit.”

He wasn’t the type of guy to curse but god, when it came to you he couldn’t find any other expression that could emphasize how you made him feel.

All the blood rushed to his dick, making his boxers ever tighter it started to hurt. His eyes looked mesmerized at every part of your body, dwelling on the curves of your breasts, so perfect they seemed to have been made to fit perfectly on his hands, your legs and your bare pussy that so much begged to be touched.

It didn't matter how many times he saw you naked, even multiple times during the same day, the effect you had on him was always the same. You completely took his breath away.

“Fuck’s sake darling.” He tried to reach out for you but you dodged him and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You can't do this to me please. You want to kill me?”

You lay down on the bed on your stomach, letting his inquisitive and hungry eyes analyze every millimeter of your skin and especially of your ass.

“Baby, can you start please?” you asked, lifting your head and supporting it with one hand, looking at him with doe eyes and an amused smile on your lips.

“You're gonna be the death of me woman,” he murmured running his hands over his face in frustration, unable to take his eyes off you and unable to formulate a coherent thought anymore.

Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, like once Emily had said to him in one of the many occasions he was shamelessly checking you out.

But it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t control it. It was as if his body acted on its own and his mind was completely blanked out.

After taking a deep breath, Spencer took the lotion you had just placed on the bedside table and poured some on his hand before turning to you and swallowing the lump in his throat.

He was on the verge of losing his mind and he hadn't even touched you yet.

His hands began to massage your shoulders, his thumbs pressing and moving in a circular way on your skin, firmly and decisively but at the same time with delicacy and gentleness.

You let out a sigh of contentment, a sigh that Spencer didn't miss but tried desperately to ignore. Your skin was on fire under his touch and all of your muscles relaxed at that contact.

Soon the lotion was absorbed and Spencer poured a little more onto his palm, rubbing his palms together before resuming massaging this time the area below your shoulder blades. While his fingers gracefully danced on your skin, giving you a very pleasant sensation, his eyes scanned your naked body, again and again and frustrated sighs escaped his mouth.

“How does it feel baby?” he asked, glancing at you and noticing your eyes were narrowed “Because I'm sure I'm about to heart attack.”

You giggled. “It feels incredible, you're so good with your hands darling.”

That line went straight to his dick and Spencer would’ve reckoned you said that on purpose. “Y/n… I swear… If you don’t stop torturing me like this.”

He bit his lip, as if this gesture could vent all the frustration and desire he felt in that moment. His hands descended along your back, massaging your skin with intensity and shrewdness, being careful to touch all the right points.

He let out another deep sigh and paused for a moment as his fingers perched on the curve of your ass, his mouth watering just at the sight.

“Baby?” your voice woke him up from his trance.

“Huh? Sorry,” he muttered as he resumed massaging you. “Baby… This is pure torture, I’m begging you I can't take it anymore.”

You giggled. “Don't be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” he exclaimed “I'm hard as a rock and I can't think of anything else but putting my face between your legs. Dramatic is an understatement.”

Even if his words made you hornier than you already were, you didn't want to give up, because God only knew how much you loved seeing him so desperate for you, so eager to touch you and pleasure you.

His hands began to descend more and more along your back, touching that particular spot that hurt you.

“Mmh yeah just like that, it feels so good.” A sigh of pleasure left your lips and Spencer almost exploded. You didn't deny you overemphasized that sigh a bit.

“Y/n. Fuck. Just stop it. You're driving me crazy right now.”

He let out another sigh as his fingers trailed further and further down your back. His thumbs massaged your lower back, deliberately brushing the curves of your ass.

“You’re so beautiful angel. How did I get so lucky?” he asked almost in a whisper, more to himself than to you. You smiled, feeling your body go up in flames as his fingers skillfully touched you. “I’m so enchanted by you.”

A moan of pleasure left your mouth as he began to massage your ass, squeezing it, pressing his fingers deeply on your ass. The back pain was almost forgotten, all you could focus in that moment on was Spencer and his hands.

You arched your back spontaneously, a gesture that triggered an almost animal reaction in Spencer. He couldn't take it anymore, he was sure if he waited a little longer he'd come in his pants.

As his hands went up along your sides – without letting a cry of disappointment escape you – he leaned over you, sowing a long trail of kisses from your ass, going up your back until he reached your neck. A smile crept on your lips, your eyes still closed.

“Baby I'm trying so hard to resist but I want to fuck you so bad right now I can’t take it anymore,” he whispered close to your ear, causing a rush of shivers through your entire body. “Will you let me fuck you?” He kissed your shoulders. “Will you let me make you feel good?”. One of his hands went down to your ass again as the other was resting next your head. “Please angel I want to make you feel so so good.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, which you spread spontaneously before your brain even gave the input to do so.

“Oh fuck… Yes,” you moaned as his fingers began to rub and touch your pussy from behind. You arched your back again to meet his movements and just the sound of your moans almost made him combust on the spot.

“Already so wet for me princess?” He bit the skin of your shoulders as his fingers touched you.

“Fuck… I'm always wet for you baby,” you gasped and it was so sexy Spencer wanted to take his cell phone, record your moans, set them as his ringtone and hear them until the end of his existence. “Ah yeah… You make me feel so good…”

At that point you were the one who couldn't resist anymore. You enjoyed provoking him but you wanted nothing more than to have him inside you, to feel him fucking you mercilessly, to pleasure him as much as he pleasured you.

You turned on your back and placed your hands on his face before drawing him into a kiss, which he returned in no time at all, sucking your soul out of your body.

He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself on top of you, his arms at the sides of your head while your hands immediately began to roam on his body and take his clothes off and roam on his body, now inexorably lost in each other.

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shadeysprings · 7 months

Text

So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway.

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you.

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you.

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does.

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint.

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot.

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you.

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same.

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head.

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively.

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker.

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car.

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving.

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road.

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot.

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life.

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?”

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again.

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek.

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck.

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh.

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic.

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan.

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do.

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face.

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected.

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies.

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do.

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand.

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in.

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way.

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground.

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out.

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one.

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses.

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied.

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet.

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints.

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them.

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz.

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner.

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment.

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin.

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss.

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you.

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into.

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend.

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room.

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale.

“I was at a party—”

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x f!reader #so good so bad #the gray man #chris evans characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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altsvu · 4 months

Note

Congrats on 200 bunny!!!! You deserve it 🌸

Can I ask for a Hotch request pls? You can literally write anything you want, any prompt, but pls do the classic ‘we’re barely friends and oops there’s only one bed in this hotel room’ bc it’s my fave trope ever!!

“there’s a first for everything”, they say

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!black!fem!reader

prompts used: 40) “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” 58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” from the 100 smut prompts!

summary: hotch invites you and the rest of the BAU on a vacation to the Bahamas, but his demeanor changes when he sees you and interacts with you outside of the professional setting for the first time.

wc: 1855

tw: pining (mentions of it), teasing, dirty talk, oral sex, p in v sex, mentions of sex, smut in general

a/n: i literally could not find a good gif for this so this will do! also this is a combination of another fic idea that i had so i kinda put a bit of a twist on this, i still hope you enjoy marley!! ❤️ @angelhotchner

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

The BAU had finally gotten vacation time, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep for 24 hours. But when Hotch invited you and the rest of the BAU to the Bahamas, it was hard for you to say no.

You wondered how it would go since you never really interacted with Hotch outside of cases, but maybe he might actually talk to you on a different level.

Then again, you were barely friends with him, acquaintance at most.

When the time finally came to pack for the trip, it was much harder than expected. After about 3 hours, you finally had your suitcases and your carry-on packed and ready to go.

Finally, you and the rest of the team were on the plane. To your luck, you and Hotch were sitting next to each other, with you at the window seat.

“Hey.” he smiled after settling down. You turned and smiled back at him and said hey back.

You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Like really good. His polo was doing him justice showing off his buff arms and chest, and his hair was fluffed to perfection. God, even his hands caught your eyes. His hands were big and veiny and you had recurring thoughts of him putting those hands to work.

On you.

Stop it, you told yourself.

You and Hotch were quiet the beginning of the flight, but you soon engaged in intriguing conversation with him. From expressing feelings about taking a break from all the gore that was part of working at the BAU, to sharing favorite scenes of movies that the both of you watched, that was the first non-work related conversation you’ve had with him.

And it felt amazingly natural, despite the bits of awkwardness in between.

The flight had a 55 minute layover in Miami, which you didn’t know about until you heard on the intercom, which woke you up from your rather comfortable nap.

That was when you noticed you had been napping with your head resting against Hotch’s arm. You quickly sat up and made sure he didn’t notice.

So much for barely friends.

During the layover, you curled up in a chair doing some digital art pieces on your iPad while eating lunch. You made it clear that you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone by putting in your headphones.

Hotch included.

You felt too embarrassed to talk to him after finding out you slept on him.

And didn’t even do anything about it.

He probably felt some type of way.

Or not.

You didn’t even bother figuring out his feelings, instead you spent the rest of the flight making mental notes of what you would do when you finally arrived.

✯✯✯✯

Bikinis were Hotch’s weakness. Well bikinis on you.

How did you know that?

You noticed that he couldn’t help but stare at you from the moment you took off your coverup, and when you walked past him at the beach, when you were resting on your beach chair talking with Penelope and Spencer, or alone reading a book, when you were playing beach volleyball with him, Morgan and JJ, and even when you were sipping on martinis with Rossi and Emily. Other people were checking you out too, but it seemed like Hotch was checking you out the most, admiring how beautiful the baby pink bikini looked against your golden chocolate skin.

So much for barely friends right?

The beach outing with the whole team was fun and you enjoyed your time there but you left the beach earlier than expected, spending some time alone shopping in nearby areas around the hotel. There was no reason in particular, you just liked spending time with yourself any chance you could.

You got back to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch due to availability reasons, and quickly rid yourself of your clothes besides your bra and underwear and prepared to shower.

Until you realized that you forgot to bring your robe. bonnet and shower cap with you in the bathroom.

Hotch just so happened to walk in just as you were looking for it.

“Y/N, are you sleeping in that?”

“Oh shit!” you yelped, scrambling to cover your body. He came over to you after dropping his stuff on the ground. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“Hey.” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You felt yourself calm down instantly, but it just increased the level of awkwardness between you and him. After your shower, you got dressed for the night, which consisted of an oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and relaxed in bed reading a book.

Hotch laid down next to you about 30 minutes later and you fell asleep moments after.

✯✯✯✯

Waking up in the middle of the night, you felt a warm body lean against you. You turned and gasped in fear until you realized it was Hotch.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Hotch asked, turning around and placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah sorry, I forgot I was sharing a bed with you for a moment." you breathed.

"I'm sorry I scared you out of your sleep."

You shook your head and turned back around. "It's not your fault."

It was silent between the two of you for a bit, and then Hotch reached over to massage your shoulders. It felt nice, you haven't had a massage in a while, if not ever. It was as if Hotch knew what you needed, what you were thinking about. A slight moan escaped your lips from how good it felt.

"Is that turning you on Y/N?" Hotch chuckled.

"No, it just feels really good."

Liar. It’s turning you on.

"I can make you feel good in other places, if you want."

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing now?” you said, turning to face him with a smile on your face.

Hotch didn’t reply, instead he pulled you a bit closer to him and caressed your cheek.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

“I do, but please remind me.”

He went into specifics about how he’d been admiring you from a distance and how he was scared to become close friends with you and screw it up.

“Y/N, you truly faze me.” he said at the end.

You felt your cheeks burning up at Hotch practically confessing his love to you. Without notice, he pressed a kiss on your lips. You went back in for more, and next thing you knew, you were on your back with Hotch’s hand lifting up your shirt. You helped him take it off, and there you were, almost naked again in front of him.

“Suddenly you don’t seem so shy to be naked in front of me.” he smiled.

“That’s because before, I was pretending that I didn’t like you.”

“Oh, so you like me.” Hotch murmured in between kisses to your clavicle.

You wanted to respond, but Hotch’s fingers were inching to your boy shorts and you felt yourself clenching up by his touch, so a smile was the best you could have done in the moment.

And next thing you know, they’re off.

You helped Hotch out of his clothes and the two of you were both naked.

In a hotel bedroom.

In the middle of the night.

You never thought you’d ended up this far with Hotch, let alone just being friends, or almost friends, with him. This was going through your mind as he was on top of you, kissing all over your body.

His hand was slowly trailing up your leg, then to your folds. He reached your clit and rubbed soft circles on it, all while pushing his pointer and middle fingers inside you.

With your past experience being intimate with other men, none of them ever made you feel this good with just their fingers. In fact, it was much different than you’ve ever experienced before.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you,” Hotch whispered, looking up at you.

You shuddered in pleasure when he said that, it felt reassuring.

He continued doing this through your first three orgasms. It got even more intense when he pulled his fingers out, devoured your juices and smashed his tongue on your opening. At this point you wanted to just grab fistfuls of his hair and moan at the top of your lungs.

Hotch being the profiler he is, knew exactly what you were yearning for.

“It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” he said, looking up at you again with a quirky grin on his face.

Your hands were now full of his soft black hair, reaching the climax of your fourth orgasm.

Before you could reach another one, Hotch stopped what he was doing, laid down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. You shuddered at the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“I want to feel you,” he whispered. “Can I do that?”

“Yes, please.” you pleaded.

He adjusted himself to your opening, and to say you were in shock would be an understatement. The initial thrust almost had you crying out for mercy the way it felt so good. A throaty groan escaped Hotch’s lips.

“You must be enjoying this,” you said.

“I am. You’re so good to me.”

That made you blush as you loved words of affirmation.

It was like Hotch knew everything about you. He knew all the right things to say, and all the right places to touch you. In a way, his job as a profiler never ended.

He switched positions so that he was on top of you, passionately looking into your eyes while doing so. He was the one with the mastery in eye contact.

At this point, you already knew the bonnet was off and the knotless braids you had in would get a bit frizzy at the top. But you didn’t care. Hotch was making you feel better than ever, filling that certain void in your life.

He had your legs up and thrusted into you with everything in him, and it made you moan in a way you never imagined you could do.

Another climax was approaching and you could feel it. You came faster than expected with Hotch in your ear whispering for you to do it for him. Short moments later, he was right there with you with his high.

“So much for not even being friends.” You laughed softly.

Hotch pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “So much, huh?”

“What do you think the others are gonna say when they find out? I know one of them heard us.”

“I’m glad they heard. Maybe they’ll talk about how loud you got for me.”

That made you giggle.

“Anyways, my special agent, we have to sleep soon. Or there might be more rounds.”

And surely enough, the two of you slept in each other’s arms after cleaning up, and you slept way better than you did before being woken up.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @averyhotchner @storiesofsvu @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @mstrinnyb @will-on-the-internet @mrshadeelharingtonmadden

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