#Its been three hours since my shift ended
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Can I Show You How Sorry I Am?
Pairing: Frank Castle x F! Bartender reader
Summary: You and Frank had been hooking up for several months and then he dropped off the face of the earth. Six months later, he walks back into your bar and has some explaining to do.
Word Count: 3,520
a/n: This is smut heavy but nothing crazy. It was intended to be a smutty porn with plot one shot but I really enjoyed writing this. In fact, I have some loose ideas on making this into a series. Diving into reader’s background and exploring what a relationship with The Punisher would look like. How a serious relationship for Frank would play out. If you’re interested in more, please let me know!
I’m going on vacation in a few weeks and then I will be cutting down my hours at work. I expect to get more stories out starting this summer!
As always, a friendly reminder that reblogs are the best way to support writers on here. XOXO
Looking up from the bar, you see the door swing open just as your coworker yells out last call. Curiosity sparked- today had been abnormally easy. Or maybe it was a good day made better under the lense of a full night’s sleep. The weather had been beautiful all afternoon-clear skies, light wind and full sun. You were able to relax outside and soak up a few rays of sun before work, letting its heat warm up your tired bones.
Work was comfortably steady and a few regulars left you a larger than usual tip today. Life recently threw you a major curveball but you were set on enjoying the sunshine while it’s here, because the moon will always come around again.
Nothing could have prepared you for the shock of seeing Frank step into the room. It had been, what, over six months since you last saw him? Your eyes were staring at him but you couldn’t seem to focus on one spot. They moved from his deep eyes, down to his black hoodie and the combat boots you loved. You noted that he looked a bit thinner than the last time you saw him and he had one hell of a black eye and split lip. Your back stiffened as you tried to process all your emotions. You were pleased to know he was alive but anger and sadness panged across your chest as you thought about the past year.
You two had never made it official but you had been sleeping together frequently enough that his sharp absence from your life hurt. You and Frank met in the same bar that you were currently in. You were new to the city and Frank was a welcome respite from the coldness New York could offer. He would show up several times a week, somehow always on nights you worked. He would walk you home and you two would enjoy a night cap or three with the evening ending in him making you see God. All of the pleasure and none of the drama. But as time and nature would have it, you managed to catch feelings. You tried to keep them buried, telling yourself he didn’t feel the same. You were too afraid of scaring him off, so you never verbalized your feelings.
However, he skipped a Monday night, which was unusual for him. Concern creeped in when he didn’t visit you three shifts in a row. And then weeks passed and you were consumed with worry about his safety and eventually you began to fear the absolute worst.
Inhaling deeply, you manage to look up as Frank approaches you. “Hey Sweetheart” he says softly, while making eye contact with you.
A flaming arrow shot a deadly blow to your heart as soon as you met his puppy dog eyes. The smell of his cologne hit your nostrils and lit a fire low in your belly. Rat fucking bastard.
Tears began to well in the corners of your eyes but you weren’t certain if they were from sadness, rage, or pent up sexual frustration with this big, dumb, beautiful man standing in front of you.
Your coworker walked by, noticing the change in your body language. “Is everything ok over here?” He asks, looking between the two of you.
“Yeah, it is. Um, actually, would it be ok if I took off a bit early tonight? I need to deal with something.”
“Of course, but you owe me one! Text me if you need anything.” Winking at you before he walked back to his station.
“Hey Frank. It’s nice to see you.” Deciding to err on the side of kindness. After all, he did show back up to see you. You might as well hear him out, even if you did give him your customer service tone.
“I know it’s been a while and that’s my fault. Can we go back to my place and talk?”
My place. The words echoed in your head. Previously, the two of you only ever hooked up at your apartment and even then he rarely bothered to stay the night.
“Yeah, actually that would be nice. Let me go get my things and I will meet you outside.”
____________
“So, this is your place, eh?” You ask, trying to keep your tone light as you surveyed the area. Noting the bare walls, sparse furniture and dumbbells stuffed in the corner, it was obvious a single man lived here. However, what you couldn’t tell is if this is a new place or if he dropped you for a different fling and was hiding out this past half year.
“Yeah, it is. Want something to drink?”
”Mmmhmm, beer’s good if you got it.”
You two sat on his futon, taking the first sip,
“Why haven’t I seen your place before you?” You ask, nerves building up in your chest as you put off the real questions you wanted to ask him.
Sighing deeply, Frank glances away until finally making eye contact.“When we first met, I knew I wasn’t going to be in town for much longer. I didn’t think that I would be back once I left.”
Frank then sat down his beer, picking up your free hand and cradling it with his. “But I really enjoyed our nights together. And I kept coming around your bar, while I put off the work I needed to do.”
Inhaling sharply you say, ”Listen, I understand that we never had the relationship ‘talk’ but Frank, we were fucking pretty regularly and then you just disappeared. Poof, gone in the blink of an eye. I feel like you at least owed me a see ya later before running off.” You say, taking a large swig of your beer, trying to calm the nerves that swirled in your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice the way your hand is shaking as you sit it back down. Or the tears welling in your eyes again. Thankfully, he couldn’t hear your heart thumping as you anxiously waited for him to respond.
“You’re right Darlin’ and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you.” He swallowed thickly and you could catch the slightest gruff in his voice. “I thought it would be less painful if I just disappeared. But when I was gone, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed the way your hand feels in mine. I missed… the feelings you brought up in me. When the job was over I decided to make my home here, maybe even with you.”
Sighing roughly, you move to sit back, trying to process everything that’s happening. Frank adjusts so you can lean into his torso.You close your eyes and he moves his arm around your shoulder, which softened a bit of the emotions flooding you.
“You know I waited around for weeks, hoping you would show up. And when you never did, I thought you had died. The worst part is that I didn’t have anyone to ask. You always come in alone and I didn’t even know your last name so I kept checking local obituaries-”
Frank noticed the panic in your voice and brought his free hand under your chin, tilting your face up and forcing you into eye contact.
“Castle”
”…What?” You ask while your brain is trying to catch up.
“My last name is Castle.” He whispers, bringing his thumb up to trace your lower lip. He pauses, looking at you questioningly.
You had so many questions running through your mind but being back in his arms reminded you of all the nights you spent wrapped up in your bed. The smell of him being so close to you was intoxicating. Before you knew it the rush of hormones hit your brain as you involuntarily move your face towards him, locking lips ever so sweetly.
Despite their injury, his lips are somehow softer than you remember and your heart rate picks up as he moves his hands up to cup your face. Frank is taking his time with you tonight, enjoying the brushing of your lips together as if it was the first time he’s kissed you. The moment is tender and softer than your previous encounters.
All too quickly though he pulls away. Your breath hitches and you involuntarily grab at his sweater, trying to tug him close again.
“Can I show you how sorry I am?” Frank pleaded as his lips hovered over yours.
“Please.” You replied shakily as you clamber into Frank's lap, reveling in the groan it exudes from Frank.
You shiver as he runs his warm hands up your sides and along your back. You kiss him deeply, one hand splayed across his chest while the other gripped his hair tightly, hoping that it was enough to keep him here in front of you.
You slowly grind into his lap as you part your lips against Frank’s. He takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth while shoving your hips together.
“Do you see what you fucking do to me?” He growled as he thrusted his hips up into yours, grinding his growing bulge against you.
You whined in response as you pulled your shirt over your head. Without hesitating, Frank reached up and deftly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and gently cupped your beasts with both of his hands.
Your head dizzying with want, you lean forward to kiss Frank, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as his large hands fondled your breasts.
Breaking away, he kisses down your neck until he reaches your chest. Moving his head to the side, he slips a nipple into his mouth teasing you until you issued your fist moan of the evening.
Chuckling, Frank moves his focus to your other breast and you loudly moan as you feel the buzzing want for him run up and down your body. You so deeply missed the way you just melt into his touch. It had been a lonely six months since Frank’s disappearance, not for lack of desire though.
You were often hit on by men at your job but most of them were a huge turnoff. Drunk and aggressively flirting with you until you declined their offer and getting angry when you wouldn’t give them your number. But you stayed at this job since the extra cash on hand greatly supplemented your primary job.
You did briefly consider yourself spending the night with a gorgeous blonde woman who came into the bar. She had the most beautiful blue eyes that you could get lost in. Except you couldn’t tell if she was flirting with you or if she was just incredibly nice. You were too hesitant to make the first move. That didn’t stop you from thinking about her as you touched yourself that night. But that was last month and you haven’t seen her come back in.
And right now all you were focusing on was Frank and how you don’t think you’ve fully relaxed since he left. You are unabashedly grinding in his lap, arching your back into his kisses as his hands worshiped your body.
“Frank, please…” you rasped as he popped his mouth off your nipple and brought you in closer to him.
“Please, what darlin.” He whispered as he pressed your foreheads together.
“I just need you to touch me so badly.” You softly whimpered as you pulled at the collar of his shirt.
“I got you girl.”
You squeal with glee as he wraps his arms tightly around you and stands up. You revel in the safety of his arms, feeling his huge biceps press you up against his firm chest. His strength was one of your favorite physical qualities in Frank. You felt so secure tangled up in him. But despite his strength, he was gentle with his touches to you. He was far kinder to you then a few men in your past. In fact, Frank never used force on you, unless of course you asked him to.
Your mind briefly wandered back to an intense night where you were pinned to the bed with his leather belt in your mouth, hand pulling your hair taughtly, thrusting into you unforgivably….
Frank placing you down on the bed brought you back to reality. Shamelessly watching him as he took off his shirt. The clinking of his belt reminded you of its taste in your mouth and you hurriedly removed the rest of your clothes.
You attempt to slide to the top of the bed but Frank grabs your legs.
“Oh no.” He clicks his tongue while dragging you down to the edge of the bed. “Just where do you think you’re going Ma’am? I owe you an apology.” He cooed, while kneeling on the floor, kissing your inner knee up to your inner thighs
Your skin prickles and your breath hitches as Frank sucked some of the tender skin on your inner thigh into his mouth. Enjoying the reaction from you, he takes his free hand and traces a finger up the seam of your pussy.
You gasp sharply. “Frank, please.” You desperately begged. “You’re being so mean to me.”
Everything about you was driving Frank wild. Your scent was lingering in his nose, leaving him heady with want, how tense the muscles in your thighs are while you were so willingly spread out for him and finally the desire in your eyes is what drove him to splay you open with his index and middle fingers before he starting flicking your clit with his tongue.
Your moans had him groaning as he continued lapping you up. He moved the fingers that were spreading you open lower, teasing your entrance. He briefly enjoyed your gasps of pleasure before slipping two fingers into your wetness, which caused you to inhale sharply as you clenched around him.
Frank slightly leans back and looks up at you. “Yeah, you like that?” He curls his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside you. “Be good and take it.” He husked before sucking on the inside of your thigh.
His words sparked an anger in you- how dare this man come back and then act like this but oh my god did he know how to work you up. And that spark was like gasoline on a fire and you were already so close to coming.
Frank could tell by how tightly you were gripping his fingers. Pulling off your thigh with a wet pop, he brings his mouth back to your clit and it was over. Trails of fire ran up and down your body before dissolving into pleasure.
Frank slowed down to draw out your orgasm as much as he could, waiting until you were whimpering with overstimulation before gently removing his fingers from you.
Still breathing deeply, you open your eyes to find Frank looking at you, while sucking your juices off his fingers. His eyes were a blaze with desire for you, which made your heart start pounding again.
“Frank, I want you.”
He barely heard you over the blood buzzing in his ears. Frank stood up and got on to the bed, encouraging you to move back further. He placed the sole pillow on his bed under your head, making sure you were comfortable before kissing you hard.
You instinctively moved down to help remove his boxers. Once freed, you savored the weight of him in your hand. He was deliciously thick and you can’t help but to start firmly rubbing him. You bring a thumb to the head of his cock rubbing the pre cum down his shaft. Now it was your turn to relish in the noises he was making
Frank was so sensitive that just a small amount of touching had him gently thrusting in your hand, lowly grunting with your firm touch. His enthusiasm reminded you how empty you were. You wordlessly guide him to you, teasing his head up and down your sopping folds until pausing at your entrance. He replaced your hand with his and you moved your hips to slot his.
The pressure of him against your entrance was leaving you lightheaded. The gasps you were making had Frank teeming with desire but he was determined to take his time. Pressing ever so gently he pushed just the head of him inside you as he began to lean down towards you. You tried to buck your hips up into him but he stopped you.
Fully leaning over you, he placed one of his forearms to your side, hooking it around the crown of your head. His other hand held your jaw firmly in place. Staring deeply into your eyes he says, “I’m so fucking sorry I left. I won’t leave you again unless you tell me to.” He pleaded as he buried himself in you.
“Oh fuck yes’ Frank.” You cried out as he pressed your foreheads together.
“I fucking missed you, sweetheart.” He roughly whispered.
“I missed you too.” You choked out, trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. Frank lowered the hand that was on your chin to the other side of your head as he started rocking into you, setting a pleasurable pace for the both of you. He slowly moves his hips until your breath hitches. That’s when he knows he’s got the right angle. You cry out as he rocks into a little harder, causing you to grab on to his shoulders.
Sweat was beginning to leave a light sheen on the both of you as more heat began to generate from where you two were connected. Frank was applying soft kisses on your neck and the little huffs he was breathing near your ear made you clench around him tighter.
You noticed his chest flushing and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Franks brings one hand down, and slips it between the two of you and circled your clit, while kissing you deeply. The pleasure of being surrounded by Frank- his weight on top of you, cock filling you, his scent surrounding you, his tongue flicking into your mouth- was overwhelming after all this time.
You pull away, wanting to save the moment in fear of him slipping away from you again.
“You’re really going to stay this time?” You quietly stuttered in between his thrusts.
“Yes darlin. I’m always going to be here.” He grunted. He could feel you getting tighter again and your whines were music to his ears as he kept his current rhythm. Your fingers tighten against his shoulder, leaving little half moons in it’s wake and your back involuntarily arches as you splinter once more from reality.
Your pussy is squeezing Frank so hard that he can’t hold himself back any longer. His body stiffens and he groans out as he fills you with his cum.
You can’t stop the tears from spilling out and streaming down the side of your face during your come down. All of the fear, anger and worry that had been pent up all came rushing out and it was simply too much. He didn’t try to silence you or make you stop. Frank simply held you and wiped away your tears.
“I’m sorry I’m crying so much.” You sniffled, trying to slow yourself down.
“It’s ok Angel, are you alright?”
You nodded your head yes as Frank carefully removed himself from you. You winced from the loss of contact but he softly pulled you into him as he laid down onto his side.
Your crying had slowed down and the weight of reality was setting back in. Your mind started racing with questions. Did he really mean what he said? What does this mean for the two of you? Were you ready for a commitment like this? So many thoughts racing in your head and you settle on one.
“Frank?” You quietly ask, face still buried in his chest while his hands were rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Earlier you said that you were putting off a job. What did you have to go do?”
Swallowing thickly, Frank closed his eyes. He knew that coming back meant coming clean and you might not be interested when you find out who he really is. And maybe that conversation should have come first but old habits have a way of dying hard.
“I will answer all of your questions in the morning. Would you like to stay tonight?”
“Can we take a shower?” You ask as you nod your head in agreement, attempting to ignore a new ball of anxiety beginning to form. What could this man be hiding from you? “Or do you only have one towel as well? You teasingly ask, partly as a way to distract you from your own mind.
“You’re in luck because I have two and they are both clean. I’ll go start the water. Come and join me when you’re ready” Frank kisses the top of your head before getting out of bed and padding to the bathroom.
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going back to Bundaberg so I can kill defence barrister MR [REDACTED] for many crimes, but principally for taking 30-odd minutes to figure out the sequence of events experienced by a deaf, 70 yr old witness, between driving from the CBD Maccas to the gym that's literally a two minute walk away.
#allegedly said defence lawyer is a bundaberg local but i simply don't believe it#Still#Its been three hours since my shift ended#if i was in the gallery i would've been heckling the man much to her honour's dismay#didn't even mention internationally-recognised local landmark Busy Bee Fish and Chips store once#and the witness literally parked in front of it#also crimes of making the aggrived cry mr kissick/mr eberhardt style#also crimes of using therapy speak in a lawyerly way#like fuck me u fellas make me never want to be sarcastic again when u say shit like sarcasm is a form of gaslighting
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🌌 TOO MANY NIGHTS
synopsis. theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend.
notes. theodore nott x riddle!reader. reader is a hufflepuff! pls, let’s pretend you’re 12 when u get to hogwarts xoxo, just for the plot
theodore nott had always been fascinated by how many differences there were between his best friend mattheo and mattheo’s younger sister. while mattheo wanted to fight anyone, who just scrunched their nose at him, you would rather have your nose broken, so the other person wouldn’t have to go through that pain. while mattheo could be consider as the grumpy (their oldest sibling obviously being the grumpier), you held the tilte of the sunshine.
theo believed it suited you. ever since the three of you were kids, mattheo had his best friend grow protective of you in the same way he had, looking out for you even if you didn’t want it. however, whenever it was nott making your blood boil with some nonsense — you couldn’t get as mad at him as you’d get at your brother. it’s because he’s not my brother, he’s theo, you’d always tell yourself. the truth was that as much as you wanted, you could never be angry with him.
the same thing continued when you started hogwarts. although, you could feel the shifting of your friendship with theo. maybe it all started to happen, because you were growing up, or maybe it was meant to be like that. anyways — you found yourself dreaming of your childhood friend in situations… that made you blush profusely whenever you walked passed him. it was complicating things so much you tried to push it aside, nevertheless to no avail.
“you like him.” a friend of yours joked, when you confessed your thoughts about theo, and… even if gabriela said it in a joking way, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
turns out, she was.
it was all revealed, when another older friend of yours asked you out to the yule ball, and you had to watch theo having fun with daphne greengrass as well as their own group of friends that you weren’t a part of. did it sting? like hell. should’ve you expected it? absolutely. some would say — you should wait for the moment, when he asks you to the ball, but you knew you were just matt’s little sister in his eyes. a mere childhood friend he used to play with when he was younger, though all that ended the second he (and your brother) got his letter, from this moment on theodore nott was a serious, adult man.
few years later, when the slytherins were throwing a party in celebration of mattheo’s eighteen birthday, as his sister, you got an invitation. as much as you loved your brother, you definitely weren’t a big party person — you’d rather spend your time in the smaller group of people, chilling to the muggle music and maybe get high. nonetheless, it was your sibling’s birthday and you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t show up.
to be fair, matt’s celebration was one of the first slytherin parties you ever attended, and from all the rumors coating its mysterious aura, your expectations were pretty high.
gabriela, the friend of yours, whom you confided in having a small crush on theo, apparently never forgotten that conversation and decided to ‘spice your night a tad’, her exact words. she lent you a fitted, emerald, silky dress that ended slightly above your knee, she did your make up and gave a nose kiss for good luck.
for the first two and a half hour of the party, you couldn’t really catch a glimpse of the boy you were looking for, so your attention were turned towards plan b, which was getting wasted — and maybe meeting someone to get your brother’s best friend off your mind. so as i said, two and a half hour later, you were much more eccentric, bubbly, and definitely more ray of sunshine, caused by the loads of alcohol you put in yourself.
“teddy!” you exclaimed with a grin as you swiftly made your way towards where he was sitting in the corner of the room. a cigarette in his hand, few of his first buttons undone, a smirk lingering on his lips, although it was gone the second he saw you, being replaced with a genuine, but almost unnoticeable smile.
“riddle.” he replied. the corners of his lips went slightly upwards as your hands were wrapped around him, right after you plopped down on the couch next to him. “drunk?” theo asked, his head tilted to the side to get a better view of your flushed face.
“never.” a giggle slipped past your lips. you leaned more on him, serving him another one of your charming beams. “can i have a hypothetical question?”
“hypothetical?” he echoed your words, suppressing a laugh in attempt to not hurt your drunken feelings. “sure, riddle. go on.” nott added upon seing you nod your head.
“could you give me one of your cigarettes?” you grinned once again, putting all effort into a pleading puppy expression you thought you’ve mastered. his answers made you uncertain about your manipulation/daddy’s girl skills.
once again, theodore fought back a chuckle, putting on a teasing smirk. “no.”
“teddy!”
“what? wasn’t it hypothetical?” he snickered, watching you groan theatrically, lowering yourself on the green sofa. it took him a moment to ease your needs and pull out a package of muggle cigarettes that made you raise your eyebrow in curiosity at him. “they’re the best, believe me.” he mumbled with a cigarette in between his lips.
soon after, he tugged you closer after having looked around to see if mattheo was out of sight. as soon as his nerves were settled and your brother was nowhere to be found, theo’s fingers were wrapped around the lighter he bought in second year. the asshole he was, it felt like he was lighting it up for so long you were about to turn eighty. his gaze was instantly focused on your eyes. butterflies were slowly erupting in your stomach with each second he slacked off to light it.
somehow, you two parted your ways few minutes later, ending the sparkling moment between you two with a quick and rash kiss on nott’s cheek, a little too close to his lips for your brother’s liking, too far for yours.
although, the separation didn’t last too long. at least for him, because, when you met him again, you were drunk out of your mind, giggling at every single word someone said to you. good thing theo’s gut feeling told him to look after you.
you were stumbling over your own feet, stuttering at easiest words until you finally landed in paradise— or just his arms. accidentally, but you could cross it out from your checklist, not that you had one.
“hiya.” a soft smile made its way onto your face as he tightened the grip on your waist, not because you smiled so charmingly at him, but also because some older dudes that occupied his previous spot was busy undressing you with their eyes.
if you weren’t mattheo’s little sister, he’d probably try to get you to agree to have a quick round in his round, hell — maybe not even that quick, he could spend an entire night with a girl like you. unfortunately, the reality was different. he could never take an advantage of you, you were too… you and theodore nott liked that too much to just… ruin it.
“what’re you doing?” you asked, frowning as he picked you up and turned towards the staircase. “teddy– put me down, please.” the words left your lips in a slurred manner, but theodore didn’t budge, not even once.
the teenager obeyed your request the moment he walked through the door to his dormitory that was shared with mattheo. theodore sat you on his bed, his green eyes scanning your face intently, while you stiffled a laughter. as a result, you got a confused expression from him. “what?” he asked.
“you’re so pretty.” a soft mumble left your mouth. it had always been hard to catch theodore nott off guard, mostly because he was an intelligent and cunning person, who always noticed the bigger picture, predict the intentions before someone even opened their mouth, yet you did it. if your mind wasn’t so clouded with alcohol, you’d count it as a small win.
anyway, theo didn’t let your words get too much of a hold on him as he silently continued to undress you. as wrong as it sounds, he was doing you a simple favour — nott wanted to bring you comfort and safety, so he dragged you to his dorm and began unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear.
it took the boy all the possible strength he had in himself to control all the urges he just felt. it would be so wrong if he got hard just from the mere sight of the goddess sitting in front of him, with pouty lips and a baffled expression caused by his lack of response to her compliment.
“teddy?” you tried getting his attention once again, involuntarily scrapping off the polish of your nails as your eyes rested on his back, watching him shuffle through his closet to find you a comfortable pyjama.
to be fair, theo absolutely loathed the nickname. teddy reminded him of a child he used to be, a child with a loving mother, who would always call him that exact nickname. it wasn’t too much of a hassle, because no one called him that — until you did and it seemed like you couldn’t get rid of it from your vocabulary. somehow, it never bugged him when you did it. the way ‘teddy’ rolled off your tongue always gave him some sort of warm feeling in his stomach.
“mm?” your brother’s best friend muttered, his back still facing you. seconds later, he’s again in front of you, nudging you yet so slightly, so you put your hands above your head. “what is it, y/n/n?” he used the nickname you haven’t heard in a while, causing a literal war in your abdomen.
“could you kiss me?” for barely a second, his brain stopped functioning. he stopped in his tracks, oversized t–shirt still in his hands, all that until he decided to spare your embarrassment the next day and acted like he didn’t just hear what he heard. he was foolish for thinking that a sight of you almost naked and not getting a hard–on was the worst part of his night. now, theodore’s brain was filled with images of you two making out, and… it’s tough.
wordlessly, he finally put the shirt on you, nudging you afterwards, worry was still vividly lingering on his face as he watched you getting comfortable. “i’ll be right here.” nott murmured, grabbing a pillow, laying down on the floor. theo on one side of his bed, the bucket he brought you in case throwing up on the other.
both of you knew that he could go back downstairs, maybe even hook–up with some girl and spend the night at her dorm, just like mattheo did. nevertheless, he stayed there right with you.
it was further in the night, when you woke up and noticed that he still occupied his spot on the floor next to the bed. a pang of guilt hit you (as well as the pounding in your head) as you stared at his peaceful state.
merlin, theodore faustus nott was today times’ adonis and you felt like you could just spend the rest of the night gawking at how insanely beautiful he was. you could barely resist the urge to run your hand through his dark curls.
“you know i can feel you’re staring, riddle?” theo chuckled with his eyes still closed. shit. at least it was dark enough, so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “somethin’ bothering you?” he asked, giving you a concerned look.
“sleep on the bed, please?” you pleaded. he was about to refuse, when you continued. “i know you don’t want to kiss me, but it breaks my heart seeing you suffer there, when there’s enough room for two people here.” the words coming out of your mouth are quiet. the embarrassment and absurdity of this whole situation got to you — if you just didn’t ask him to kiss you, he’d probably sleep in the bed with you, but you obviously had to ruin it.
“y/n/n, i want to kiss you.” he said, his tone matching yours. “but i can’t, you know it. mattheo would kill me the second he knew.” theo knew he shouldn’t but the urge was too great to resist, so he placed his hands on your knees, reducing the distance between the two of you.
“matt doesn’t have to know.” a whispers left your lips as you leaned an inch closer, brushing the tip of your nose against theo’s. “teddy, please.” you pleaded, staring at him with urgency in your eyes.
it took theodore half a second to consider his options. he could’ve refused and regret it afterwards, but stay alive or he could’ve just kissed you and maybe get into a heated argument with mattheo. so… a voice in his head said fuck it and kissed you with all those feelings he’s had in him.
you could feel your entire world stop the second his lips fell on yours with urgency and passion. it was all you ever dreamed of, he was the guy who was your last thought before sleep and the first after waking up. a silly, childhood crush that developed over the years into… something you couldn’t describe. theodore nott had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing it — if he asked you to jump into a fire pit for a longing glance, you wouldn’t think about it twice and jump.
your fingers were tangled in his curls as he, without breaking the kiss, leaned more towards you, until your back hit the fabric of his sheets. to be completely honest, you felt like your stomach was about to be ripped apart just from the proximity between the two of you.
the kiss lasted way longer than you expected. it could’ve been hours, but you could never been sure. his lips were just inches apart, when he pulled away yet so slighty, letting out a groan as you nudged the tip of your nose again his.
“you don’t even know how much i wanted to do that.” his words were quiet. “matt will kill me, won’t he?” a low chuckle espaced his throat qs you let out a groan in response.
“could you stop mentioning my brother and just kiss me, nott?”
#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott rec#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott rec#theo nott fic#theodore nott fic#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x reader#niki’s works 🫂#theodore nott x riddle!reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut
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Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss
I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.
AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!
Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me
Too Much to Take (18+)
Jason Todd x Reader
Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.
Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.
The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.
That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.
You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.
You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.
Surely.
It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.
His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.
No, no, there was no going back now.
And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.
He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.
He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.
All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.
So pure.
Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.
It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.
Oh, how cute.
He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.
But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.
Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.
With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.
Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.
You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.
He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.
He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.
And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.
If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.
Like hell.
So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.
Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.
Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.
He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.
Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.
After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.
The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.
Dear god.
Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.
Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.
You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.
He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.
Fuck it.
Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.
He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.
But he could only hold himself back for so long.
With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.
Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.
Thank god for sleep shorts.
In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.
Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.
Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.
Your pretty little pussy.
It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.
The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.
Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.
He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.
You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.
He couldn’t.
Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.
He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.
Oh, fuck.
You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.
He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.
Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.
But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.
He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.
There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.
Only you.
He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.
Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.
The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.
But he couldn’t stay forever.
With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.
Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.
Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.
“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.
Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.
He made sure to close it.
It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.
When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.
Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.
“Didn’t I leave that open?”
#oneshot#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd#red hood x reader#red hood#red hood x you#red hood x y/n
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whole new can of worms
joel miller x f!reader
rating: explicit, 18+ mdni
summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together.
warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops.
word count: 6.9k (nice)
series masterlist | masterlist
a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy.
also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget.
this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.
“Play that one I like.”
Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.
He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.
“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”
Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.
Both of you had endured a long fucking day.
Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.
They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.
When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.
When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.
He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.
“Whiskey?” he’d asked.
You nodded. “Whiskey.”
And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.
As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.
“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”
“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”
You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.
“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”
“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”
You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”
“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”
“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”
“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”
Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.
“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”
You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.
Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.
Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?
With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.
“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”
You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.
“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.
“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.
“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”
“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”
“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”
You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.
“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”
“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”
“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.
Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”
A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”
“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”
He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.
You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.
“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”
Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”
“I see.”
“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”
“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”
You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.
“How long has it been?”
Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”
Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”
“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”
“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”
“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.
“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."
You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”
“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”
The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.
Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.
You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.
“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.
“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”
You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.
Jesus, here goes nothing.
“What if we fucked?”
Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.
“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.
“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”
His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.
“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.
“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“
“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”
You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.
As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.
“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”
You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”
With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”
You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.
Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.
“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“
“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.
“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”
He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.
You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.
Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.
“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”
His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.
With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.
You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.
A shaky breath escaped from his nose.
“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”
Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.
“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”
He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.
Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.
“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.
“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.
And finally, finally, he made a sound.
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”
Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.
“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”
Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.
“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.
“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“
You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.
“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.
You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.
“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”
Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.
And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.
“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”
He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.
“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”
He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.
Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.
Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”
You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.
“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.
“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.
“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“
“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.
His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.
It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.
“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.
You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.
He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.
“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”
His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.
“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.
“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.
“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.
“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”
You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.
His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.
“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.
You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.
Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.
“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.
“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”
He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”
He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.
“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”
He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”
He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.
Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.
“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”
You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.
“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.
“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.
“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.
“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.
“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”
“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”
A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”
His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.
For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.
“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”
He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.
“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.
You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.
“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”
He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”
part two
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fwb joel miller#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#my writing#cat's outta the bag#don't cry over spilt milk#whole new can of worms
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bye bye bye - e.m.
y2k eddie munson x girly reader
opposites attract masterlist
warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.
a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕
word count: 1.5k
Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.
You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.
It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.
Despite these differences, you fit so well together.
And as they say— opposites attract.
But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.
And all over a stupid t-shirt.
Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.
You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.
“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.
The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”
You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.
“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”
You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.
“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.
It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.
A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.
You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.
But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.
They must think you’re a buzzkill too.
The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.
“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.
You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.
All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.
But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.
“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.
“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.
You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.
“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.
He frowns, confusion settling on his features.
“Why do you say that?”
You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.
“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”
It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.
And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.
“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”
Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.
“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”
You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.
A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.
The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.
Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.
But he didn’t stop there.
You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.
But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.
You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.
“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”
Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.
At least for a little while.
“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.
He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.
“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.
But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.
“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”
You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.
“It’s Justin, baby…”
#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#y2k!eddie munson#y2k!eddie munson x girly reader#eddie munson x girly reader#my series: opposites attract 🫧#early 2000s!eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you
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Nonviolent Communication - Part Six
Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader
Summary: A few weeks after your first mission with Miguel, he shows up at your apartment to show you something.
Word Count: 10,161 (Someone needs to take my laptop away from me. I promise this will be the longest part. I won't let it happen again.)
Warning: Soft Miguel; Sad Miguel; It made me wish for summer to end even more; Some readers may not recognize some food items mentioned but it's not too important for the plot, however, you can find a guide right here if you want to know what they look like; Slight mention of abuse
Music inspo while writing:
"Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (I love this song so much. The Gaby and Miguel edits with this song make me want to sob each time 🥹)
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |
Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight |
Part Nine |
Part Six
The trees in your city slowly change colors as the weeks go by. The greenery of summer fades only for nature to offer its orange, yellow, and red hues on your morning patrols. The sun retreats into hiding sooner, while the moon and stars emerge earlier, lighting the early, chilly evenings. It’s finally autumn. Coffee and book shops play autumnal music in the background as quiet and intimate conversations take place in small, cozy corners. The sweet scent of cinnamon and coffee fills the air. People walk the streets wearing cozy and warm apparel, coffee in hands to provide warmth. When you walk on the busy sidewalks of your city to buy groceries, you see the lively colors of autumn behind condensed window displays. You take notice of the faux autumn leaves and twinkling lights. The sight of mums and pumpkins meets you here and there.
You begin to go out to bookshops more often. You spend time with your friends, both outside and during work. Your friendship with them grows stronger. They visit you in your universe as you start inviting them for dinner at your humble apartment. You slowly begin to talk about Peter with them, feeling easier to bring him up each time you do so.
Many weeks have gone by since your first mission with Miguel. It’s not the last one. You find yourself going on missions with Jess, one other person, and him once a week now. You are no longer surprised by it. It’s normal. One week he assigns you to the same side of the city he works on, the next one he doesn’t. It’s a pattern. Each time you work on the same side, he suggests that the two of you swing through the city when you’re both done scanning for anomaly matter.
It's part of the surveillance and learning plan he has implemented, of course. So, this makes perfect sense. Every other week, you find yourselves on the tallest building’s rooftop, overseeing the city. Sometimes you talk briefly. Sometimes Miguel tells you about anomalies that have been caught from that universe in the past, before your recruitment into the Spider Society. Before you knew of each other’s existence. Other times, it’s you who tells him about anomalies you have caught with other colleagues. You listen intently to each other’s words as a form of respect and trust.
You continue to organize Miguel’s lab. With the weekly assigned missions, your time organizing his lab, and the minutes before scheduled meetings that add up, you begin to spend roughly four hours around the founder and commander of the Spider Society each week. You continue to take coffee for meetings, arriving early as always. Miguel sometimes talks to you about the anomalies from the previous week before anyone else arrives, your conversation ceasing when other ears enter the room. Sometimes you take food to him when you arrive to organize the lab. Miguel is no longer surprised like he used to be about the coffee cups, or like the first time you took him empanadas weeks ago. He accepts the food, and thanks you.
Without fully realizing it, there’s a shift between the two of you. So subtle, like the changing leaves of trees in autumn.
It’s the first of November. You walk around your apartment with your fall playlist playing in the background as you do random chores even though it’s ten at night. You do laundry you needed to catch up on. You put away the little amount of Halloween decorations you have. You wash dishes and clean the kitchen. You fix the throw blanket on your couch. You dust your furniture. It’s all a bunch of random chores that you’ve been meaning to do but have been too busy to get done over the week due to missions, patrolling your city, and Halloween. A lot of petty crimes occur on the holiday because people think they can get away with it if they wear costumes.
You’re also hit with a random spur of energy, so you take advantage of it. You move quietly around your apartment, your music filling the space that would otherwise be silent. As you clean, you think about how different this year has been compared to the last three years. You especially think about this as the holidays are right around the corner now. For once in three years, you have plans for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Peter and Mary Jane are hosting Friendsgiving at their universe. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited you and the rest of the group for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to their building’s party and then again for New Years.
It's been so long since you even celebrated. You found no point since it was just you and you cut off your friends from your universe. You smile as you clean thinking how it will be different this year. You can’t help but stop and stare at one of Peter’s photos on the wall. He would be happy, you think.
You’re in your bedroom now, putting away random objects that have made other areas of the apartment their home for days when a multidimensional portal opens in your living room. You sense it. You walk out of your bedroom just as the floating objects in your living room fall back into place. The portal is fading now.
Miguel stands in the middle of your apartment. His eyes take in your living room, lightly decorated for the autumn season. He spots a few pumpkins and faux leaves on your bookshelf. He can smell the scent of autumn candles as the music plays softly in the background. He finally turns around, looking for you, it seems. His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes.
“Miguel. Is everything alright?” you ask, as you stand just outside your bedroom.
Miguel looks around for a second at the fallen objects. He gives you an apologetic look before he speaks. “Everything is fine.”
You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s past eleven at night and your boss just showed up. Randomly. Or at least it seems so. You see Miguel’s eyes scan you briefly, probably noticing that you’re still in normal clothes and not pajamas despite how late it is. His eyes meet yours again as he briefly thinks about how this is officially the third time he has been to your apartment. You are officially the only colleague he has visited these many times in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t let himself think too much of it now.
“Are you busy right now?” he asks at last, quietly.
“I was just doing some chores so, no…” you say, unsure of where this is going. He said everything is fine. He is calm. That means there’s no threat to the multiverse. No need to change into your suit right away.
Miguel nods and sighs so quietly, you barely register it. “I would like - to show you something,” he says, still meeting your eyes.
You stand there for a second or two, processing what he just said before you nod slowly.
“Should I change into my suit?” you ask, still unsure of what’s going on, but Miguel shakes his head.
“No need to change.”
You nod. “Oh, okay. Then – I’m ready,” you say quietly, still standing just outside your bedroom.
Miguel nods before he clicks on his gizmo, opening a portal again. The portal opens. Its lights shine brightly around your apartment and objects begin to float again. You quickly grab your own gizmo, sliding it on before you approach him. He motions for you to enter first and as you do so, you briefly wonder if you should’ve grabbed a jacket as your sweater is on the lighter side. Your worry melts, however, as you step into Miguel’s lab, where it’s warm. You sense Miguel right behind you, so you step to the side. Your eyes scan the lab, trying to figure out what Miguel wants to show you, but you see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Miguel is standing next to you now as the portal’s colors and lights begin to fade away. You look over at Miguel and find him looking down at the floor as if thinking. You wonder then. What is he trying to show you? Whatever it is, it seems that he might be reconsidering.
“If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s okay,” you say quietly, not wanting him to feel pressured to show you now but he lifts his gaze to yours and shakes his head softly.
“No – I want to show you,” he says quietly, and you nod.
Miguel nods back before he turns and starts walking deeper into his lab. You follow him, giving him some distance just in case he changes his mind. He walks to a side of the lab that’s not usually trafficked by people, behind his platform. Your curiosity grows with each second as you walk around it, a few feet behind Miguel. Your nose is slowly overwhelmed by a rich and sharp scent, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. Miguel looks behind his shoulder as he finally stops walking. You see it then, or part of it as Miguel’s body covers some of your vision because he’s a few feet in front of you.
“You can come closer,” Miguel says, sensing that you’re still too far away.
As your eyes take in what you can see in that moment, you immediately know where the scent is coming from when your eyes fall on marigold flowers.
An ofrenda, as Miguel had said weeks ago when you were celebrating Peter’s birthday. You suddenly remember. It’s the first of November. Dia de los Muertos. Your mind flashes back to that moment. You were cutting Miguel a second slice of cake, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing when he spoke.
“I also…” Miguel said, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you -” he paused, and you nodded then, indicating you knew what he was talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You placed his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not – Don’t feel as if…” Miguel said, trailing off and you nodded.
He had shared that with you then, to make you feel less embarrassed. To assure you, you weren’t alone in remembering, celebrating, and honoring Peter even after his death.
Your eyes flicker to Miguel for a few seconds, his attention is back to the ofrenda. You step closer, keeping your eyes on him, as you do so. You stop, standing a few feet behind him still, not wanting to invade his space. Not wanting to invade his ofrenda, his act of remembrance, celebration, and honor for his loved ones.
Sensing your reluctance to walk closer, Miguel speaks in a hushed tone.
“Y/N… you may come closer,” he whispers.
You stand still for a few seconds and then walk closer, stopping next to him. Your eyes take in the ofrenda as you’re able to appreciate it more now that you’re closer to it. Miguel’s ofrenda is absolutely beautiful and you can see the effort he put into it as your eyes take it in.
The ofrenda is made of two levels, both are covered in a bright blue fabric. Sheets of tissue paper in lively colors were cut into intricate patterns and hung from the edges of both levels. You notice the second level holds four photographs, which are in physical, wooden frames. Despite the advanced universe of your boss, Miguel O’Hara still used physical, wooden picture frames for his ofrenda. For some reason, that makes you feel tenderness towards the man next to you. Your eyes move from each picture slowly. The first photo your eyes fall on show an older woman. You take in her appearance, noticing some of her features are familiar. Miguel’s face flashes in your mind. His mother, you realize, knowing nothing about her. No one knows anything about Miguel’s family. It isn’t something that Miguel ever talks about.
Your eyes move to the other end of the level, falling on the photograph of a young man. He was handsome with one of those cheeky, boyish smiles. You notice he looks on the younger side and you can’t help but wonder if Miguel once had a brother.
The two photos in the center show people you have seen before. Two individuals you know a little about.
Gabriella and Miguel’s wife. Your eyes fall on Gabriella, noticing that her photo was more centered on the ofrenda. You notice the decorations then. Small sugar skulls made of clay fill the gaps between each photograph. Marigold flowers serve as a pop of color behind the picture frames and clay sugar skulls. Lit candles light up the ofrenda on both levels. They flicker softly, creating a soft and intimate moment.
Your eyes fall to the lowest level. You still find marigold flowers, sugar skulls, and lit candles but there are other items in front of each photograph. You remember that on Dia de los Muertos, loved ones place food, drinks, and other objects that those who have passed away enjoyed in life. In front of his mother’s photograph, Miguel placed a plate with food, surrounded by fruit like apples and oranges. A glass bottle with an orange drink was placed next to it. When you move to the young man, who you are almost certain is Miguel’s brother, you spot tamales, a drink, and two pink pieces of bread in the shape of a seashell. Pan dulce. There are also these thin, bright yellow candy-sized packages next to his drink. Your eyes almost miss it but there’s a scarf looped around the plates with food. When you look back at the photograph, you notice the young man is wearing that very same scarf in his photo.
You move to Miguel’s wife. She, too, has a plate with food, different from the others. You cannot help but wonder… Did Miguel cook their favorite meals? Once again, tenderness washes over you as you imagine Miguel spending the day cooking and setting up his ofrenda. You finish looking at Miguel’s wife section, seeing some candy and a drink, too.
It's Gabriella’s section that really strikes you, making a bittersweet feeling rush through you as you scan her section. There are three plates of food. You don’t recognize the food in one of them but the other one you do. Pancakes with chocolate chips on top. Your mind flashes back to months ago, when you entered Miguel’s lab after he found out that Lyla had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of Gabriella and his wife. He had mentioned Gabriella loved his breakfasts, especially pancakes with chocolate chips, when he was telling you a little bit about her.
Your heart aches as you continue to stare at the pancakes. You swallow the knot that has begun to form in your throat. You tell yourself to calm down. You know Dia de los Muertos is not about grief. It’s about celebrating those who have passed away. Remembering and honoring them. A night for loved ones to visit and spend time with those who are still alive.
You sigh quietly as your eyes move. You spot more items in Gabriella’s section. There is quite a bit of candy, which makes you smile. You spot small, green and white, bottles with pointy red lids. There are small packs with bright pink tablets, which remind you of gum. Your eyes fall on two lollipops. They have a clown face printed on it, showing a chocolate covered marshmallow with gummies as a face. There’s more candy, like those thin bright yellow packs you saw on the young man’s side. Your eyes move to the last plate. Gabriella also has the same kind of pan dulce found on the young man’s plate: two pink seashell-like pieces of bread.
There are also drinks in Gabriella’s section. You find tiny see-through bottles, almost the height of your pointing finger with a beige liquid and red letters printed on the outside. There’s also a tall glass of what looks like chocolate milk, next to a short, blue container with an animated character printed on it. And finally, there’s a large mug of rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Arroz con leche.
It doesn’t stop there, however. The bright blue fabric covers some of the floor and right there you find toys and other random objects. Your eyes immediately fall on a soccer ball, reminding you that Gabriella loved to play soccer and was part of the soccer team at her school. You smile as you keep your eyes on it for a few seconds. You spot children’s books on the side, noticing that some of them fall under the science genre.
You remember that Miguel shared with you that Gabriella loved science and enjoyed reading. There are other toys of course, like dolls and small animal figures. Your eyes fall on one item specifically though. A small acoustic guitar. You briefly wonder if little Gabriella liked to play the acoustic guitar but of course, you don’t ask about it.
Your eyes take in the ofrenda again, all of it now. Miguel did a beautiful job. You smile softly at the sight and the fact that Miguel went to your apartment tonight to show you his ofrenda. He’s honoring his loved ones in his own way, and he invited you to be a part of it. The same way you invited him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Miguel move. He slowly gets on his knees in front of the ofrenda, with a soft sigh before he rests his body over his heels. You notice he’s looking straight ahead at Gabriella’s photo. You slowly drop to your knees, too, and as you stare at Gabriella’s photo you speak, breaking the silence.
“It’s beautiful, Miguel,” you whisper softly in Miguel’s quiet lab.
“Thank you,” he whispers back, softly.
The two of you stare silently at the ofrenda. The candles’ wicks flicker softly, still casting soft shadows on the photographs. You think about Miguel’s loved ones. He has lost so many people even before Gabriella and his wife. You can’t help but wonder now, how lonely was Miguel that he inserted himself in another world?
You have never judged him and never will for this. However, you cannot help but feel heartache for him. He has lost so many people. Why did life take so much from this man? This man, who you have begun to know better with each passing day, who was soft, loving, kind, and caring on the inside? He didn’t show these traits much these days, but you have received his kindness before.
He showed you kindness the day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. It wasn’t Jess who sent him. He had shown up on his own. You still wonder about that. How he had asked you not to bring it up to Jess so he wasn’t caught in a lie. He didn’t want you to know he had done it because he wanted to or because his true, hidden traits had led him to do it. Ever since he lost Gabriella and his wife, he was distant and cold, unwilling to attach himself to anyone again. Except, his true self was still there, hidden under the surface of his coldness and unattachment.
He made appearances sometimes. Like that day at your apartment. Or the day he talked about Gabriella to you when you walked into his lab, not knowing he was having a bad day because of Lyla’s secret. Or on Peter’s birthday. And there were other moments you hadn’t been around for like the time he allowed Gwen Stacy into the Spider Society. Even though he didn’t want her to be a part of it because of her connection with Miles, Miguel allowed her recruitment because of the issue with her father and her Spider-Woman identity.
That version of Miguel made his appearance today. Miguel O’Hara spent his entire day working on his ofrenda for his loved ones. He cooked. He cut the tissue paper. He printed out the photos and placed them in picture frames despite being able to simply display them with screens. He picked out the marigold flowers. He bought drinks, candy, and toys. He put together his ofrenda.
As the two of you kneel before it, there’s a shared understanding between the two of you. There’s comfort. Vulnerability. Trust. A bond between the two of you that has been forming over the last months strengthens.
You sigh softly as your eyes land on the soccer ball again. Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down to see your face. He sees you looking at the soccer ball.
“She loved playing soccer, so I bought her one,” Miguel mutters quietly, and you nod.
“I remember. She played in the soccer team,” you say softly.
Miguel nods, feeling a warm sensation wash over his chest as you mention that fact. It has been many weeks now since he shared that with you. And you remembered.
“I think – she must be very happy to see her favorite breakfast,” you add, looking up at Miguel.
He looks down at you. You remembered that, too. Miguel nods before turning away slowly. He has never shared much about his life with others. Not with Jess or Peter, who were already a part of his life back then. They knew some parts of his life of course but he had never gone into much detail. It had been too painful. It was easier to keep it all to himself, put away at the back of his mind while he exhausted himself with work to keep his emotions at bay.
You are the first one he has shared some of those days with. Miguel can’t help but think about the first day he met you. Jess introduced you and of course, he had thought you were the opposite of him. You seemed so happy and alive despite having lost someone. He had been so wrong about you. You carried your own grief and loss but hid it so well.
Either way, had someone told him that he was going to be opening to you in so many ways back then, he would’ve laughed. He wouldn’t have believed it, but it was true. He has opened up to you. And you remember. You listened to him. You didn’t ask questions. You understood.
Miguel sighs softly, looking at the photographs. You knew of his wife and sweet Gabriella of course but not of his mother or Gabriel. Little Gabrielito. Miguel shakes his head softly at his brother’s photograph, thinking how he left too soon.
Miguel clears his throat, turning slightly to you now. This catches your attention, so you turn to face him.
“The young man – that’s my brother. Gabriel, or as I called him, Gabrielito. He passed away a few years ago,” Miguel shares.
You offer Miguel a sad smile, not speaking. Not wanting to discourage Miguel from sharing.
“He was my little brother,” Miguel says. “He was such – a pain on the butt sometimes but he always meant well. He was always cheery. Kind.”
You nod, wanting to say that you could tell just by the cheeky smile on Gabriel’s face. Miguel notices that you seem reluctant to speak. He thinks about how respectful you always are. Again, you never ask questions. You never overstep his boundary lines. And hell, his respect for you grows in that moment even more. You are a good person. You are kind. Miguel fails to notice it, but his heart beats a bit faster. You are the closest he has to a friend these days even though he doesn’t fully realize it. You are the only person he was willing to share this moment with because you allowed him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration. He wanted to reciprocate the gesture.
And, as he stares down at your face, he realizes that he wants to hear your thoughts. He wants to know what you think. He wants you to ask questions because he feels comfortable with you. The firm boundary line he has established and maintained for so long, crumbles in that moment for you.
“You can talk, you know,” Miguel says softly, prompting you to offer him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or overstep. I know how delicate and personal these moments are,” you respond truthfully. “Thank you for letting me in on your celebration,” you whisper, and Miguel detects the sincerity in your tone.
He nods. “You made me a part of Peter’s birthday celebration … I wanted you to be a part of mine,” he answers softly.
You nod once again, giving him a brighter smile. “Thank you,” you whisper, meaning it.
Not everyone understood of course but you understood each other. With his words coming back to you, about being able to talk, you sigh softly before you speak.
“Your brother – I can tell he was cheerful with that cheeky smile,” you say, turning to Gabriel’s photo.
Miguel’s eyes fall on his brother’s smile. It was indeed cheeky.
“Since a kid,” Miguel shares. “He always had that smile. It never changed throughout his life. There were always at least two girls who had crushes on him when we were kids because of it,” he says fondly, his mind going back to days that were long gone when Gabriel and he were still in school.
You chuckle lowly. “I can imagine it got him into some trouble with the girls,” you say, smiling, unable to stop yourself from also thinking of younger Miguel. You wonder what he was like when he was a teenager. You wonder if he also had girls crushing after him, and you are immediately confident he did. If Gabriel had the girls crushing, there was no doubt Miguel definitely did, too. You have never thought of Miguel in that way but even though you have never thought of him like that, it doesn’t mean you are blind. Miguel is an attractive man to say the least. People, mostly women but even some of the men in the Spider Society, talk about it sometimes. Even if you hadn’t noticed it yourself, you are sure you would’ve at one point with the questionable conversations you overheard sometimes in passing when colleagues thought they were being discreet, except they weren’t.
“Believe me, it did. I once had to come to his rescue because this girl’s boyfriend thought he was flirting with her,” Miguel says, shaking his head, missing his brother. “But he wasn’t like that. He was a good person. A good man.”
Miguel thought of Gabriel when he allowed himself to think about the past. He loved his brother even when there were tensions between them.
“He was the better brother,” Miguel mutters. “He was kind. Unselfish.”
You can’t help but get hung up on the word “unselfish.” Did Miguel think he was selfish?
When he thought about Gabriel, Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his little brother would have said about what he did. He was so selfless and compassionate. If there is a Heaven, Miguel fears that Gabriel must have disagreed with his decision. With what he did in Gabriella’s universe.
You sense a slight shift in Miguel’s mood, even when your mind is still stuck on the indication that Miguel feels like he was the selfish brother of the two. You feel the urge to keep the mood light. You don’t want to see Miguel sad or upset, so you speak up.
“He sounds like a wonderful person. I think I would’ve liked him a lot,” you start, looking at Gabriel’s photo before looking down at the yellow candy packs. “I see he and Gabriella liked the same candy,” you add softly, hoping to lighten his mood again.
Miguel, staring at his brother’s photo, briefly thinks about what you said, and he agrees. In fact, Miguel can’t help but think that Gabriel would have befriended you was he still alive. You were both warm and happy people. Unselfish, he thought again.
“Gabriel would have liked you,” Miguel says, knowing this is true. “I think you two would have been great friends,” he says pausing for a few seconds. “And yes – they’re called Pulparindos. It’s made from the pulp of tamarind fruit. Gabriel loved them. I swear he ate like four a day. He always had some with him,” Miguel says with an amused tone but there’s no smile on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out Gabriella also loved them,” he adds fondly.
You nod, that’s why both Gabriel and Gabriella had the same kind of candy then. You also feel somewhat pleased with the fact that Miguel thinks his brother would’ve liked you.
“We would go to the store, and she always made a beeline for the candy aisle. I could never say no to her,” Miguel says, his voice still laced with that fondness as he thinks of the times they went to get groceries. “We made an agreement. She could have one piece of candy each day but no more. She always respected the deal.”
You stare at Gabriella’s photograph. She’s in the frame alone, smiling at the camera. Again, there’s that toothy smile you remember from weeks ago. Your heart aches for her. For Gabriel. For Miguel’s wife.
For Miguel… who didn’t have the luxury of visiting all his loved ones at the cemetery, you suddenly realize as the two of you remain kneeled on the floor. Miguel couldn’t visit his wife or Gabriella. There were no bodies to be buried. No funerals.
Your sudden realization cuts deep into your soul. You cannot imagine what you would do if you were in his shoes. If you didn’t have at least that small comfort of knowing that Peter rested somewhere in peace. Or the comfort of being able to visit him whenever you wanted or needed to. Or the comfort of talking to him, even when you know your stories are heard by silence.
Miguel had none of that when it came to Gabriella and his wife. Your heart feels heavy with pain for Miguel. You have never thought of this and to be honest, no one else has either. Miguel was expected to move on eventually but how could someone move on when they didn’t even have the chance to mourn properly? How could anyone move on when they didn’t have a place to visit their loved ones?
It has been those small things that you have taken for granted that have helped you during your mourning period. Those comforts that mostly everyone who loses a loved one has but for Miguel… it’s not true. He doesn’t have any of those comforts.
You feel the sudden urge, for the second time in months, to reach out for Miguel. You want to comfort him. You want to hold him in your arms and tell him how sorry you are that this has happened to him. That you are sorry that he has lost so many loved ones. That he lost his wife and Gabriella, his loving family.
You want to tell him that he deserves so much more. That he deserves a family and happiness. And that he’s not selfish for wanting these things. You want to hold Miguel, and take away his grief, sadness, guilt, and any other negative emotion he still carries with him.
You just want to comfort Miguel.
Your hand, which has been resting on your lap, rises slowly, involuntarily, in Miguel’s direction. You freeze for about two seconds, realizing what you are about to do. You bring your hand back to your lap discreetly, or at least you hope it was discreetly.
You cannot comfort Miguel in the way that you usually comfort people because he doesn’t do physical touch. No matter how badly you want to rest your hand over his and let the gesture speak for itself, you know you can’t. Or rather, shouldn’t. You don’t dare break his boundary line as you return your attention to Gabriella’s photo.
Beside you, Miguel also stares at his daughter’s photo. His mind has paused the memories and instead, is overtaken by the fact that you were reaching for him just seconds ago. He didn’t fail to see the way you stopped yourself. He senses it’s not because of impropriety or even changing your mind about it but for another reason.
As Miguel stares at Gabriella’s photo, he wonders how you know. Perhaps it was Jess, he realizes. Perhaps she mentioned that he cannot do physical touch these days. And you, as always, respected his space. He silently appreciates your respect and the fact that you wanted to comfort him. He sighs softly. It’s been so long since he has been comforted by someone physically.
The last time he felt another person’s skin was… with you, he realizes, remembering the day he checked up on you. That day, for once, he allowed his hand to be bare so he could feel your face, to check if you were running a fever. That was the first time he had felt another person’s skin in a really long time, and there hadn’t been any other instances since then. He remembers how natural it had felt to press his hand to your forehead regardless.
Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears your stomach grumble, making him turn to you. He narrows his eyes slightly as you slowly look at him.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
You shake your head, embarrassed, thinking about how you had an early dinner and that was hours ago. “No. I ate something a few hours ago. It was just my stomach being – weird,” you say softly and Miguel stares down at you, knowing you’re lying.
Before you know it, he gets up with ease. “Hold on,” he says walking away and around his platform.
You wait there, not knowing where he’s going on, or what he’s doing. It’s a few minutes later that Miguel returns. You hear his footsteps and turn around to find Miguel carrying two cups and two plastic bags hanging from his right wrist. Noticing your furrowed brows at the sight, Miguel walks over to you and hands you one of the cups.
You immediately feel the warmth of the drink before the scent of coffee fills your nostrils when you take the cup from his hand. You look up at Miguel, with curious eyes but he doesn’t say anything as he kneels next to you again, this time much closer than before, you notice. Miguel places his own cup to the side before he pulls the plastic bags off his wrist.
“I only made enough of the food for them…” Miguel says, pausing and nodding at the plates with food. “But I did get extra of this,” he says, opening one of the bags and showing you.
You catch a glimpse of pan dulce, which you have tried before. You meet his eyes again as he moves the bag closer to you. He motions for you to get some.
“I know you’re hungry,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “Please.”
You feel reluctant but then again, the pan dulce looks too appetizing to say no to. You nod slowly and reach into the bag, grabbing a pink, round seashell like piece of pan dulce.
“Those are called conchas,” Miguel says as he sees what you chose. He turns to the ofrenda. “Gabriel and Gabriella loved those. Especially the pink ones.”
You turn to the ofrenda, returning your attention to the pink conchas you noticed earlier on Gabriel and Gabriella’s sections.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, holding the cup of coffee and pan dulce, feeling embarrassed. You wonder if this is how Miguel felt the first couple of times you took him coffee and then in the last couple of weeks food.
Miguel’s head turns to the side to look at you. “You’re welcome,” he says softly before he, too, grabs a concha.
He looks away from you as he breaks a piece of the pan dulce to make you feel comfortable. He knows you were lying to hide the embarrassment of your hunger, so he turns away to give you space. He brings a small piece of the concha to his mouth, the pan dulce reminding him of his childhood when his mother made hot chocolate for Gabriel and him. Miguel remembers how Gabriel and him always looked forward to autumn and winter because the food was better. They got hot chocolate with pan dulce; tamales of all kinds, including his favorite ones, which were the sweet ones back then because he loved the sweetness of them and the fact that his mother added food coloring to make them colorful; they also got buñuelos, and pozole amongst other delicious foods.
Miguel brings the piece of pan dulce to his mouth as he thinks of the past, of his childhood. He didn’t think too often about it but when he did, he tried to only think of the memories that included Gabriel. He didn’t like to think of other memories that included the man he once thought was his father. The same man whose last name Miguel still holds to this day. Other memories included his mother as well. Some were from the early days of his life and then from her last years when they had grown closer once there were no more secrets and lies between them.
It was just his mother and Gabriel. Neither his stepfather nor biological father were thought of. Nor were they on his ofrenda. He couldn’t bring himself to add them to the ofrenda that was for those he loved and cherished dearly. Those he missed.
“That was my mother,” Miguel suddenly says once he finishes eating the small piece of concha, remembering he hasn’t talked about her. “Her name was… Conchata.”
You finish chewing the small piece of bread you, too, broke off. You nod. “She was beautiful,” you say as you turn your attention to her photograph. You can see Miguel got a lot of her features, as did Gabriel. You don’t say anything about the fact that there’s no sign of his father, not knowing Miguel had a stepfather as well.
“She was… We didn’t have the best relationship for some time, but things changed in her last years. It was often a problem between Gabriel and I in those years. He always tried to remain neutral. I, on the other hand…” Miguel trails off, thinking of the past. “I distanced myself from her for some time until we resolved our issues.”
You frown a little. Is this why he thought Gabriel was better? Because Gabriel remained neutral in whatever problems Miguel and Conchata had? Despite Miguel indicating that he isn’t as good as Gabriel, even saying he distanced himself from his mother in a negative tone, you can’t bring yourself to think of him any less. You have no right to begin with. You don’t know what happened between them. There’s so much that you still don’t know about Miguel. So much he might never reveal. Either way, you don’t care.
“We all have our reasons for what we do,” you finally say, thinking this was the best neutral thing to say. “You had your reasons for distancing yourself.”
Miguel nods, appreciating your response. “I did,” he says simply, thinking about those reasons. Thinking about the abuse from his stepfather that his mother allowed. About the manipulation. The lies.
He has never shared his past with anyone. The only person that knew of it has passed away, taking those memories with him to the grave. Gabriel. Miguel doesn’t know if he will ever share that. He put it in the past for the most part.
However, he couldn’t help but feel that if he ever shared his past… it would be with you but not tonight. At least not all of it.
Miguel clears his throat. “I had a stepfather and of course, a biological father but I wasn’t close to either of them. They have both passed away, too.”
You notice a slight change of tone. It’s laced with resentment. You put your cup of coffee down.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently. “Tonight, is for them, right?” you ask softly, motioning to the ofrenda.
Miguel nods. “Yes, but I know the other members talk. About my past. About my family.”
You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. That’s how you found out about what happened in Gabriella’s universe and what happened with Miles. It turns out that despite being superheroes and being part of a professional superhero society, its members were not immune to gossip.
“I didn’t have a good relationship with either of them. That’s why they’re not on the ofrenda,” Miguel continues, feeling like he wanted to get it out of his chest for once.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply, and Miguel nods.
“It’s in the past now. I just wanted to say it – since my mother is on it. And again, I know people talk.”
You nod, feeling sad that Miguel feels the need to share his past life. “Please know that you never have to explain yourself. It’s your life, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation,” you say, surprising yourself with your words and tone but you hope you make your point clear. He shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything just to satisfy people’s curiosity. “But thank you – for trusting me enough to share that with me,” you add, softly again.
Miguel feels stunned by your words, especially your change of tone. It almost felt like you were scolding him. He can’t help but feel comforted while also amused by it. He feels his lips curl upward as he looks down at you. You notice it, of course. The slight curling of his lips. Did you almost make Miguel smile?
You can’t help but stare at his mouth. You have seen his smile in a photograph before and it was… beautiful. You remember the spark in his eyes as he smiled. His smile was such a sight it made you wonder what it would be like to see it in person. You can’t help but feel selfish at this moment. You want – need – to see Miguel O’Hara smile.
You want to see him happy because he deserves it.
You meet his eyes and offer him a small smile, feeling happy that you almost made him smile but Miguel surprises you. Miguel, for once,returns a genuine, small smile.
Miguel O’Hara, founder and commander of the Spider Society, your boss, is smiling at you.
You feel like your breath has caught in your throat suddenly. Miguel is smiling at you. It’s a small one but it’s a smile. You stare at it and meet his eyes. The moment feels much longer than it lasts but in a good way. You abruptly look down at your piece of pan dulce, feeling like you are overwhelmed by the sight of Miguel’s smile. You can’t comprehend your emotions, so you take a piece of pan dulce and change the subject.
“This is really good. Thank you,” you tell him, looking up at him again.
The smile is gone but there’s still a hint of it on his face as he looks down at his own piece of pan dulce. His mood is lighter, indicating that the resentment you detected earlier about his fathers is gone. You realize he found your sudden change of tone, which you now realize may have come off as scolding, amusing and you don’t mind it.
“Glad you liked it,” he says with a tone you can’t pinpoint right now as his smile is still flashing in your mind. “And thank you. For your words,” Miguel adds, meaning it.
You nod at him and take another bite of your concha, thinking. You are never going to forget this night.
The two of you continue to kneel on the floor but it feels like your distance has decreased somehow. You can feel his body warmth much closer as you eat pan dulce and hot coffee. The lab is silent and mostly dark around the two of you, but you find yourselves in a peaceful and comforting silence as the scent of marigold flowers and coffee fills your nostrils. The soft flickering of the candles on the ofrenda creates a warm and soothing mood, spreading that warmness to the two of you on this cold November night.
It is a beautiful moment, shared by two people who understand each other on many levels. It is a moment that will pass, like every other moment you have shared so far but just like the rest, it will be a moment the two of you will look back on. It is a moment that only the two of you will know of as there is an unspoken agreement these moments were for yourselves only.
Miguel eats his piece of bread, quietly. He’s thinking about your reaction to him smiling. It makes him feel a mix of emotions. Was the sight of him smiling, even if it was a small smile, so surprising? Of course, he knows he doesn’t smile much these days, but your reaction makes him feel like the sight of it is a once in a lifetime moment. That was one emotion.
Another emotion is… what is the word? His emotions and thoughts are a bit out of place tonight, making it harder to think but he feels… satisfaction? Is that the right word he’s looking for? The point is that he found some joy in seeing your surprise, and your sudden – was it shyness? Was the sight too much for you that you had to look away and change the subject?
Miguel takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks about how he liked your reaction to him smiling, no matter how small it was. He sets the cup down and looks at the other plastic bag he brought with him. He picks it up, remembering.
“There’s candy here, too,” Miguel says opening it.
You finish eating your piece of bread, making a note to look for some pan dulce in your own universe because it was wonderful, as you turn your attention to the bag. You’re still thinking of Miguel smiling. You watch as Miguel pulls out different candy, holding so much in one hand because of its size.
He shows you the candy, and you recognize it from the ofrenda. He extends his arm out to you, offering you candy. You look up at him.
“What do you recommend?” you ask, and he begins to tell you what each candy is, even when you recognize some of it from trying it before.
You eventually go for a clown lollipop, which makes Miguel raise his eyebrow slightly.
“What? It has three things. Marshmallow on the inside, chocolate on the outside, and gummies,” you say giving him a small smile.
“You got a point,” Miguel says, grabbing one himself.
The two of you open your clown lollipops. You look at your own, noticing the gummies’ placement on the lollipop, which are supposed to signify the eyes and mouth, are crooked, looking nothing like the picture on the wrapping. You frown a little but shrug.
Next to you, Miguel stifles a low chuckle, noticing your frown at the appearance of your lollipop. He shows you his.
“The thing about these is that they never look like the picture on the wrapper,” he says quietly as you look at his crooked lollipop.
You chuckle, noticing his has the mouth upside down. “I was a little disappointed but I’m pretty sure the taste is going to make up for it,” you say, looking at it before you take a bite, making sure to go around the gummies.
Miguel watches, wanting to see your reaction. You chew the small piece you bit off, the chocolate and marshmallow melting in your mouth. Miguel sees the pleasant look on your face.
“Oh wow, this is – I think I’m in trouble,” you say, taking another small bite, still going around the gummies, deciding you’re going to leave them for last.
Miguel raises an eyebrow as he, too, takes a bite of his, also going around the gummies, as you mention being in trouble. You finish eating and look over at him.
“I used to have a sweet tooth. I think this is going to make me return to my bad ways,” you explain as you take another bite.
Miguel feels like smiling again as he sees you go for another bite. He also notices that you left the gummies for last, which reminds him of Gabriella because she used to do the same thing when he bought these lollipops for her.
The two of you spend another hour sharing candy and Miguel tells you about each one. Miguel eats the same candy you choose each time, as if he was trying it for the first time as well. He pays attention to your reactions, noticing which candy leaves the best impression on you. He also shares bits and pieces of Gabriella’s liking for a specific kind of candy. You listen intently when he speaks, appreciating his openness with you. You notice there’s no sadness as he speaks fondly of her. At least not tonight.
“I guess we’re not sleeping tonight,” he mutters as the two of you are now sitting, still on the floor, facing the ofrenda.
It’s past midnight now and the two of you have eaten quite a bit of candy, plus you had that cup of coffee. You both feel awake and alert.
“I don’t think I was planning on sleeping early, anyway,” you say quietly, staring at the flickering candles.
Miguel leans back on his hands, stretching his back slightly. The two bags he bought earlier are between you. The plastic wrappers from the candy you two ate are in a neat pile.
“You were doing chores,” he says, remembering you had mentioned that when he arrived.
You nod. “I had some random chores that I meant to do over the week but didn’t get to.”
“I’ve been keeping you busy with missions,” he says, looking at the photos of his loved ones.
You chuckle lightly. “It’s just the life of a superhero.”
Miguel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. When he lived in Gabriella’s world, he took every chore in the house. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dishes, cut the lawn, and many other chores on top of being a father and a superhero. There were days when it all felt like too much, especially when he was unable to complete some of those chores when his superhero duty called. When he felt like that, when it was all too much, he just reminded himself that it didn’t matter. It was okay if the lawn grew a bit tall. It was okay if he got behind a day or two on laundry. It was okay as long as it meant he got to spend time with Gabriella. Her happiness and comfort were his top priority, and if he had to choose which he often did, between doing laundry or sitting on Gabriella’s bedroom floor playing with dolls because she asked him to join her, he always chose spending time with her.
The satisfaction of done laundry, or a clean sink, never compared to Gabriella’s smiles and laughs. If he could pay to hear her laugh live again, Miguel would give up everything he owned. Even if it was just one more time.
Miguel sighs softly, thinking of Gabriella. Memories of them playing on her bedroom floor flash through his mind. He can hear her voice and laugh. He remembers the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He remembers the nights he had to find a way to fit in her tiny bed to comfort her because she had nightmares. He’d lay there for hours, even if his muscles were tired. Even when his body desperately wanted to stretch to ease the tension, he laid there, guarding her sleep. He remembers the natural father instinct that surged through him. It was as if he had been meant to be a father his whole life.
As Miguel stares at the ofrenda, his eyes fall on the toys, and he silently prays that Gabriella visited him on this Dia de los Muertos. He prays that she forgave him for lying. For replacing her biological father. He prays that she found joy in the toys and food.
“Perdóname, mija.”
“Do you – do you mind telling me more about her?” you ask in a whisper, noticing Miguel’s lingering eyes on his deceased daughter’s photograph. You don’t know what gave you the confidence to ask that and you quickly add, “I’m sorry, I – you don’t have to. I don’t know what came over me.”
Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down at you. Your eyes meet. He’s quiet for a few seconds but his face is calm. He doesn’t look upset, and he’s not. He’s glad you asked. He’s just surprised and comforted by how you asked. It’s strange. Sometimes he feels like you grieve with him. He sees it in your eyes and detects it in your words and tone. He has never felt like anyone could share his grief. Until you. You didn’t even know Gabriella or his wife, or that version of himself.
Regardless of that fact, Miguel feels like you grieve with him. As if you grieve the opportunity of knowing them and a life he no longer has.
Miguel nods at last. “Gabriella…”
And so, the two of you spend another hour or so together in his lab. Miguel O’Hara begins to talk about his daughter and it’s like a door opens. His memories pour out of him, and you listen intently, nodding. He talks about the times she was sick, the time she fell from a swing and the scraped knee afterward, about her playing with dolls and him having to change his voice to be in character. He talks about the car rides back home after soccer matches and how Gabriella would be filled with energy the first fifteen minutes before she passed out asleep, exhausted from the game and her excitement from winning. He tells you so much than the last time. So much more, that you feel like you knew Gabriella yourself. You smile tenderly as Miguel talks about her in a way that just enforces how great of a father he was.
It's a while later when the two of you get up from the floor. You help him clean up, despite his protests. The two of you stand in front of the ofrenda for a few minutes, in silence afterward. You finally turn your head towards him, looking up at him. He notices and looks down at you, meeting your gaze.
“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy,” you say quietly, and he nods slowly.
You wish you could say more. Again, you feel that rush of emotions for this man. You wish you could tell him that he deserves happiness. That he deserves so much more…
“Thank you for coming,” he replies, and you nod with a small smile because you feel that that’s the only thing you can do.
You fall into silence again for a few seconds before you sigh softly.
“I should probably head back now,” you say, looking down at your gizmo to check the time.
Miguel also checks his gizmo, surprised. It’s very late. When he finished setting up the ofrenda and was ready to travel to your universe to invite you, he had no intention of keeping you up this late. He thought it would be an hour or so. Instead, the two of you have spent the last three hours on the floor eating pan dulce and candy, with him talking and sharing details of his life.
For a brief moment, Miguel tries to imagine doing this with someone else. He can’t. No one else pops into his head, for the two of you speak so differently when you are alone. You understand each other.
Miguel finally nods. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
You shake your head with a smile. “Don’t apologize. As I said, I was going to stay up to do some chores but…” you trail off and try to put your thoughts together without them coming off wrong. You want to say that you much prefer this. Spending time with him. Keeping each other company. How can you say that without it coming off wrong? You look away from his gaze for a few seconds, trying to think of how to word this and simply having no idea how to do so without giving the wrong impression. You shake your head softly at yourself, feeling silly for being unable to pull your thoughts together. You meet his eyes again, which have been on you this whole time. Miguel can see that you’re struggling to find a way to say what’s on your mind. It makes him want to know even more what you’re thinking.
“What I’m trying to say is that – I’m here,” you finally say and immediately feel like that was not the best way to say it, but it is also not the worst. “I’m here – for you.”
And I don’t mind stopping what I’m doing to be there for you, you silently think but can’t voice that part out loud.
Miguel stares down at you, your words echoing in his head. You’re here… for him. And he knows you mean it as your eyes meet. Miguel gives you a soft nod, his eyes show appreciation.
“Thank you…” he says, with a warm feeling in his chest.
You nod and give him another smile, seeing that appreciative look in his eyes. That will have to do. Maybe in the future you can say more but for tonight, that will have to do.
Miguel wants to say the same to you, but he can’t. The words get caught in his throat. He looks at the plastic bags from earlier. He pulls out two chocolate lollipops and some of the other candy he saw you liked the most, not fully realizing that he perfectly remembers this information. He looks at the bag with pan dulce. There are only two pieces of bread left. He extends his arms, offering you the bag with bread and the candy. It’s his own way of reciprocating your words to him. You look up at him, a little surprised.
“Oh, thank you but you don’t have to do that,” you say not making a move to take the items.
He looks down at you. “I insist… please,” he says quietly with a firm yet breathy tone.
Noticing his tone, you nod slowly and take the items from his hands gently. Your bare fingers brush his suited palm and fingers as you take the individual pieces of candy. The sensation is almost ticklish to Miguel’s palm, but he keeps his hand steady. Once you have everything in your hands, you look up at him again and smile.
“There was no need for this but thank you.”
Miguel nods, wishing he could’ve done this on top of reciprocating your words. Maybe another time.
“I hope you enjoy the other pieces of bread,” he says softly.
“I have no doubt I will,” you reply, still smiling. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you before you speak again. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again… for everything.”
Miguel nods. “Thank you. I’ll see you later today,” he replies remembering it’s already early morning.
You nod one more time at him before you turn your eyes to the ofrenda. Your eyes fall on each photograph, and you say a silent goodbye to them. You don’t celebrate but you hope that they came to see Miguel tonight.
“Good night,” you finally say.
“Good night,” Miguel replies before you walk around the platform. Miguel remains standing in front of his ofrenda. He hears the multidimensional portal open nearby and then it’s quiet again. His eyes fall on each photograph, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on his loved ones’ faces. He stands there for a few minutes, quietly thinking before he breaks the silence in his empty lab.
“I’m here for you, too...”
_________________
Translation for italicized words:
Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead
Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Death
Pan Dulce - Sweet Bread (Mexican pastries)
"Perdóname, mija" - "Forgive me, my daughter."
Mija(o) is a combination of "Mi" and "Hija(o)"
For the other italicized food items mentioned by Miguel from his childhood and items described on Gabriella's ofrenda, you can find a food guide right here that I quickly put together.
--
Ok, so I just want to say sorry for the freaking LONG update. My jaw dropped when I checked the word count once I was done editing (no wonder it took me so long). I don't think any other part will be this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and that if you love autumn (like me) this brought you comfort. I'm done with this summer heat 😭
I also want to ask how would you guys feel about a short Christmas part? It wouldn't be super long but I thought of Miguel in Christmas time and I just - Imagine Miguel in a chunky cable knit turtle neck sweater!! (Screaming, crying) If not, it's okay. I already have the "next" part mapped out and... I'm not well thinking about it.
As always, thank you for the support. For the lovely comments and asks. Reading them makes me so happy. Thank you 🥹
I love Miguel,
Alondra
Tag list:
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#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv miguel#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara scenarios#spiderman 2099#atsv x reader#atsv x you#miguel spiderman#across the spiderver fanfiction#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n
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𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 (𝟐)
࿏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
࿏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐀𝐔 (𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫), 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔; 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, (𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞) 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭
࿏ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝐤
࿏ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠
࿏ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫...
← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
"I'm going to tell my uncle to take pictures of me to send to you and Noona, Hyung!", Seyun's little voice fills the small space of the car and as his words reach you, a soft chuckle falls past your lips, barely able to handle his cuteness.
Just from the way he's been smiling and giggling throughout the whole drive to his grandma, you can tell just how excited the four year old is about his little day trip, which definitely helps easing the feeling of guilt that's been weighing on your chest for leaving him.
You know Jake is feeling the exact same, if not even worse, because he's been bringing his younger brother over to stay at his gran a lot more recently and despite knowing it's because of his uncle and cousins actually requesting the younger one's presence, the young parent can't help it.
Just a few months ago Seyun was too anxious and scared to stay away from his older brother for longer than three hours and todsy they're going to be away from each other for almost two days; the longest they've gone without seeing each other has never passed the twenty hour mark.
Jaeyun's been awfully quiet ever since you got into the car and he hasn't left his poor bottom lip alone, biting and nibbling, twisting it between his fingers every few seconds as he's obviously trying his best to hide just how nervous he is.
He's already had a quick chat about the whole situation with his younger brother and despite Seyun's enthusiasm and excitement, he just seems to loosen up.
Once your conversation with the little guy in the backseat comes to an end, you let your eyes shift to Jake and instinctively reaching for his arm and gently caressing it before it slowly makes its way to his cheek and all he can do is move further into your gentle touch. You calmly watch the way he lets out a loud sigh, taking your hand in his to place a soft kiss into your palm and making your heart melt rught then and there.
"It's okay, Jae", you whisper and look at him, subconsciously admiring the perfection of his side profile, "and if anything happens or he wants to be with you, we're just gonna head back yeah? It's just an hour of a drive anyway."
You try to find the right words to reassure and canm him, yet for some reason he seems to be a lot more worried than before.
"What if he thinks I'm abandoning him?"
The sudden sound of his raspy voice, his words and the heartbreak wavering in his tone tightens your chest and before you can even realise it, a thick veil of tears has blocked your sight.
"Oh, Baby, no", you say instinctively, yet quickly bite your lip and keep talking to stop the awkwardness even have a chance to get to you, "he's a smart kid and he knows his Hyung always keeps his promises. We'll be back before he's even awake tomorrow and then we're going to spend the whole day together, just like we told him."
"I'll be okay, Hyung", Seyun's cute voice startles you, to say the least and you quickly turn around to look at him with teary eyes, a soft smile plsstered on his tiny face as he nods at you approvingly.
"You know, I'm a big boy, right? I'm even a Hyung, too! Siwoo's Hyung!"
The words elicits the first little chuckle from the young parent and you finally let go of the breath you were holding in, when his knuckles finally lose their whiteness as he loosens his tight grip on the steering wheel.
"That's true", Jake says and shoots his brother a smile through the mirror, "I'm proud of you, Yunie. We'll both be okay."
It doesn't take much longer for you to arrive at Jake's grandmother's and after giving your littlest friend a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead, you wave him goodbye and calmly watch the two brothers make their way to the front door.
After a few minutes of waiting outside of the car, Jake makes his way back to you and before you can even say anything, he just pulls you into a tight hug and lets out a loud sigh.
"Thank you", he whispers and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and then your forehead, "I really appreciate your patience and understanding."
You sadly smile against his neck, tightening your hold on him because you know you're going to cry if you use your words, as sudden sadness overwhelms you the more you think about their situation.
After a good five minutes of just standing there, Jake slowly pulls away and opens the door for you, a big smile on his lips and you finally feel yourself losing some of the tension in your muscles.
The drive passes by a lot quicker than you expect as the two of you just vibe to the music, soft gazes and shy smiles exchanged every few minutes as you leave the busy life in the big capital behind you.
The closer you get to your destination, the more nervous you start to become, anticipation filling your body as you think of all the things you're going to do and talk about.
In the back of your mind you can't help but remember your rather heated make out session from the previous night and even if you refuse to admit it, you're definitely hoping for it to happen again.
Ever since the two of you had decided to take things seriously, you've noticed how clingy and touch starved you've become; the urge to be in constant skinship with the young college student almost always on your mind. And from the was Jake's been shyly caressing your thigh throughout the whole drive, you can tell he feels quite similar if not the same about it.
Every now and then, a certain type of silence fills your company, yet for the first time in your life you don't feel the urge to replace it by saying something just to talk. Jake's mere presence is enough for you to feel comfortable and at ease, something you also haven't experienced before and you can't help the giggle escaping your lips once your brain takes notice of all these firsts.
Jake thanks the owner of the Airbnb and it doesn't take another minute for you two to walk through the door, bags in his hands as he strictly forbid you to even touch them.
"I'm starving", he sighs and places your luggage on the bedroom floor, his ears suddenly changing their colour to a deep shade of red and as soon as your eyes meet the sight of the king sized bed in the room, you know where the sudden change comes from.
"Let's just see how the evening goes and then we can decide who sleeps where, yeah?", you say quickly and take off your jacket ss well as your head and look at him with a soft smile.
"Yes", Jake mumbles and rolls his eyes at himself, feeling slightly awkward for being so obvious with his reactions and to avoid making it worse for him, you just make your way to the kitchen and start taking out the few groceries you had bought at the little market on your way.
"How about you go and lie down a little? The drive must have been exhausting? I'll make us something to eat really quick and then we can head out to the city afterwards, hm?"
As you voice your suggestion, you have your back turned to him and despite being aware of his presence, you still feel chills run down your whole body as soon as Jake places his big hand on your back, reminding you of the way he could barely stop himself from groping every bit of flesh he could get his hands on the other night.
You nervously pull your bottom lip in between your teeth and let out a soft sigh to stop yourself from whimpering because there's no way you're going to be even more obvious about how easy you are for him.
"I won't let you do all the cooking by yourself", Jake replies and pulls away to take off his windbreaker, throws it on the couch and comes to stand next to you at the sink in his sweater and a baseball hat to hide his messy hair.
"I'm so nervous", you suddenly blurt not quite sure where the sudden urge to confess comes from as you turn to look at him with wide eye only for you both to burst into laughter at the same time.
Jaeyun wraps his arms around your shoulders as he laughs about how cute you are, yet also feels relieved to know you're currently in the same emotional state as him.
"Don't worry, pretty girl", he sighs and kisses your forehead, "I'm just as nervous, I actually feel like throwing up. But I think it's mostly excitement."
The following two hours go by just like that: exchanges of silly jokes, funny stories snd facts, lots of quick kisses and barely a minute where you're not touching each other. You would have never expected yourself to actually become addicted to the feelings skinship comes with, but then again, Jake Sim hasn't failed to show you completely new sides of yourself just yet.
As soon as you're done eating, the young parent goes to take care of the dishes to let you get ready, promising to leave the drying to you to make everything fair only to have the whole kitchen cleaned by the time you step out of the bedroom in your new outfit.
Of course he doesn't listen to the way you're scolding him for doing it all by himself, just disappears in the bedroom, the sound of the shower running quickly following him and you can't help but sigh at just how dreamy he is.
You actually have no idea how time has passed by so quickly as the two of you reach your final destination of the day, which just so happens to be a cute little street food place which is said to have the best ramen noodles in the city and as the biggest noodlesoup enthusiast, Jake has been quite determined about going ever since you suggested the roadtrip.
The first place you visited was the local art gallery, where you spend a good two hours arguing over why your individual favorite piece of art is better, followed by a little sightseeing bus tour where Jake refused to let go of your hand up until the very end. You also decided to head to the city and have some snacks, only for you to lose your marbles the second you spot a cat café on your way to the store. Of course Jake physically and emotionally couldn't say no to you, so you ended up sharing some cheesecake and each having your third coffee of the day all while two little kittens had gotten comfortable on each of your laps.
Most of the time you're just reminiscing about old times, Jake about his childhood and teenage years in Australia as well ss his summer vocations ins Korea, whereas you stick to the stories about visiting your relatives and your parents' villages, both of you cracking up each time when you realise just how similar your lives actually are.
Every now and then Jake catches himself staring at you for a little too long, quickly shifting his gaze to stop himself, whereas you just try your best not to get flustered each time you feel his gaze on you. There's just something about the way he looks at you with such softness and adoration, something you've been craving for so long and are actually getting to experience for once.
When the two of you sit down on the plastic chairs outside the little ramen place, Jake lets you know that this is probably gonna be the best you've ever had and for some reason his enthusiasm makes you giggle.
Of course after a few hours of only mentioning him every now and then, your conversation lands on Sim Seyun and this time Jaeyun makes sure to show you his pictures in chronological order, yet almost instinctively skipping the family picture taken on the day the youngest Sim had turned one hundred days.
You wordlessly watch the way Jake stops himself from skipping it before he zooms in on his parents, a soft sigh falling past his lips as he looks up at you with teary eyes.
"He looks so much like the perfect mixture of them, doesn't he?" His words are carefully chosen and heavy in meaning, the pain and love evident in his tone and the expression in his eyes, so all you can do is nod and hold back your tears to let him have this moment.
"He even has the same mole underneath his right eye as my mother", Jaeyun sighs and you don't say anything in response, just reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his to let him know you're there.
"And he laughs like my father, it's like every time I look at him I see pieces of them living on through him and that's why it's been so hard for me to just let go. It's definitely gotten easier but the older he gets, the more he resembles them."
Jake doesn't give his tears a chance to escape, gently pulls away his hand from yours and runs both of them over his face before he sighs and shoots you a tiny smile.
"But as much as that breaks my heart, I also can't help but love it. He's the reason I'm not afraid of forgetting them."
And as soon as those words leave his lips you've had enough.
A soft sob follows his words and sends an expression of worry over Jake's handsome face in an instant, making him get up from his chair and pull you into a tight hug.
"This is so embarrassing", you whisper and push your hand into his hair regardless of your emtional state, "I have to stop this or you're going to think I'm doing it on purpose."
Jake chuckles softly at your words, the weight disappearing off his heart as soon ss he hears your little giggle when he starts to wipe your tears away and heads back to sit down across from you once you've gotten ahold of yourself again.
"Don't worry, Baby", he sighs and from the way he smiles you can tell he doesn't even realise what he just said, whereas you're about to lose ever bit of composure you've been holding onto for the past few hours, "I know how empathetic you are and it's honestly one of my favorite things about you."
You feel your heart double in its size at his words and the sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you, but you're more than aware that this is the lost inappropriate place to go for one so you just smile and nod at him gratefully.
After eating some of the best ramen you've ever had, you make your way back to the Airbnb with exhausted sighs, both of you just plopping onto the couch as soon as you take your shoes off and as if they sensed your return, you get a call from Jen, whereas Sunghoon's name appears on Jake's display.
You quickly give your best friend a rundown of today as you change into your pyjamas and go through your night time skin care routine, having to turn your volume down each time the crazy lady on the other side of the line starts screaming in response to your words.
It takes you a good twenty minutes before you come back to Jake facetiming Seyun, the little guy telling his brother about his exciting day at the zoo while actually acting out the animals' behavior and as soon as you come to sit quite close to the older Sim, you're met with the cutest smile.
This time you and Jake switch places and as you entertain your little best friend, the young parent makes his way to the bedroom and goes through his own routine, only to come back a few minutes later, dressed in the cutest little sweater and some nerdy glasses, hair messily falling into his freshly washed and moisturized face and with a bright smile you sit up to welcome him back.
However, as soon as your eyes watch the way Jaeyun gets to the kitchen, you're reminded of the conversation you've been meaning to have with him, regarding a certain someone who usually breaks the gentle and soft nature of the 21-year old.
But you've went almost three whole days without telling him and it's been actually eating you alive, so there's absolutely no way you can hold it back any longer.
Jake comes back to sit next to you, taking your phone from you as he takes a sip from his water bottle and you feel yojr whole body tense up from the anxiety
You know he's not going to blame you, because you're not at fault but you're pretty sure his mood is going to drop and it won't be as easy to bring it back up.
"What's wrong?"
His sudden question surprises you, so you look at him with wide eyes at the realisation just how easy it is for him to read your body language.
"I have to tell you about something that happened the day you went to play soccer with the boys", you quickly reply and scoot away from him a little, slightly afraid he might not want you to be close to him once you've told him.
"Oh? Alright, go ahead", Jake quickly replies and turns his body to face you properly, not even missing a best to fiddle with his bottom lip and you absolutely hate how quick he's gotten anxious.
After thinking about how to say it, you decide to just go for it because there's barely a way to break this to him without any complications.
"Chan came to the coffee shop."
You pull away just a little more as your head fills with mental images of Jake being angry and upset to the point where your presence might become a bother and you can't help but feel the knot in your throat growing bigger.
Jake doesn't say anything for a good two minutes, then just throws his head back with a loud sigh and nods, his hand reaching for yours and before you can even overthink it, you hold your own up only for him to pull you onto his lap and bury his face in your neck.
The position is still something you have to get used to, despite spending most of the previous night's evening in exactly this one but different than the first time, you actually know what to do. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and caress the back of his neck, pushing your hand into his thick hair and massaging his scalp just how you know he likes it.
"I just don't know why he's so persistent" Jake whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending chills down your arms and you can't help but sigh.
"What did you tell him?" The young parent pulls away to look at you, the prettiest, softest and sweetest soul he's ever seem and the one who never fails to knock the air out of his lungs with just a single smile. He doesn't know why or how but there's just something so calming about you and everything surrounding you, it's like he's been looking for you his whole life and has finally gotten the chance to feel at absolute ease without a worry in the world. Every time he finds himself getting anxious, he thinks of you and takes a deep breath to find a way to handle everything.
Maybe that's why he doesn't break down as bad as he used to whenever his older brother is mentioned, but he still has to figure this one out since there's also a lot of denial and ignorance from his side.
"I told him it's not my place to hear him out or talk to him", you begin softly and caress his cheek, pushing the hair out of his face and adjusting his glasses, "and that I can't risk losing the two of you by talking to him. I also asked him to just please leave you alone and then left, it hurt me to know I'm looking at the guy who made you go through so much."
Jake feels the tension leave his body with each of your words; your response reassuing him of the trust he's put in you and allowing him to let go of every doubt he's had to suppress these past few weeks.
He never really doubted you as a person, but not knowing what his own brother is capable of doing has definitely had him on edge for a while, subconsciously.
"I really appreciate it", he whispers and lets his hand find your cheek, while his whole body reacts to the way you move further into his touch and wrap your fingers around his wrist.
"It's the least I can do, Jake", you reply calmly and let your eyes roam his handsome face, "you two really mean a lot to me and I wouldn't want to do anything which might have you question my loyalty."
All he does is nod in response, his big puppy eyes filled with adoration and something you haven't been able to pinpoint quite yet. However, the longer the two of you just look at each other, the heavier the air becomes and all of a sudden there's a shift in the whole atmosphere which has you holding your breath.
"Can I kiss you? It's been so long...", Jake whispers and moves his hand to the side of your neck, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip, whereas his own is firmly tugged between his teeth to the point where they've swollen up again.
Again, you answer with nothing but a nod and look at him with needy eyes, the tension in between your legs slowly starting to become absolutely unbearable and the fact you're neatly seated in his lap doesn't make things easier at all.
Jake smiles with hooded eyes, the arousal taking over his body in a way he's never experienced it before and he feels the blood rushing all the way down to his cock from just the thought of kissing you. He knows you can feel him hardening underneath you and before shame or embarrassment can make an appearance, Jake just pulls you into a soft kiss.
Even though this isn't your first kiss with him, you still feel like the butterflies in your tummy are about to explode as he takes your bottom lip inbetween his own and sighs softly, making sure to savior and swallow every single one of your cute noises.
It doesn't take much for your hands to find home in his thick hair, losing yourself in the feeling of his pretty lips capturing yours in just the right way.
You don't even know what you're body is doing in response to the feeling of his hands groping the flesh of your waist and your thighs, the sound of his deep grunts and needy breaths as well as the sight of his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes each time you pull back for air.
But Jake never gives you more than a moment.
"Closer", he whispers and finally presses you against his chest, hands tightening their grip on your hips as he slowly starts guiding your movements and elicits the sweetest sound he's ever heard from your throat.
"Fuck", the profanity is an instinctive response to the mixture of adrenaline and arousal rushing through his veins and the delicious feeling of your clothed cunt dragging along his hard cock.
He can feel how warm and wet you are; your pyjama shorts are barely any sort of barrier after all.
"J-Jake", you mumble against his plump lips and feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the sweet haze of pleasure with every single one of your movements.
However, he doesn't respond right away. All he does is pull away and throw his head back with a loud moan, the pressure of his cock and the fact he's been dreaming about you in all these different states of pleasure is slowly but surely getting the best of him.
Jake feels drunk on you and the way you seem to know exactly what to do, despite being just as inexperienced as he is.
Maybe it's the fact nobody's ever gotten to do this to you that's driving him crazy or maybe the way his heartbeat goes from rapid to agonisingly slow to the point where he feels like passing out. Jaeyun doesn't know and there's absolutely nothing in him that feels the urge to find out.
All he knows is you're in his lap, humping his hard cock like it's the only thing on your mind and every time he subconsciously moves his hips to meet your cute little thrusts, he can tell just how far gone you are.
"You're so pretty", he suddenly whispers and pushes the hair out of your seeaty face, leaning back to have an even better look at you, just for his breath to hitch in his throat as soon as you start moving your hips in circles, applying the sweetest pressure on the tip of his cock.
"And you're doing so well." The words just leave his lips before his brain can overthink them and to his luck you seem to enjoy them: your grip in his hair tightening and the patch of your sweet juices soaking through your panties and shorts growing bigger and bigger with each word.
The air is heavy as your heavy breaths and needy noises meet each other.
"F-Fuck", Jake can't seem to hold himself back anymore snd he hates how it's only been a bit over a minute. But as if you could resd his mind, you push yourself against his chest and pull him into another sloppy kiss, sucking on his tongue and finally taking your own turn of bitting down on his plump bottom lip as you moan and whimper into his mouth.
"I'm close, Jae", you whisper and look up at him, a thin layer of sweat covering your face, eyes glossy and your voice hoarse from all the pleasure.
You've always been one to cum fast whenever you touched yourself but this is definitely new to you, too.
Yet, you can't blame yourself.
There's absolutely no way you could have resisted Jake's touches, his firm and sloppy kisses, the feeling of his tongue grazing yours, his tight grip on your hips, his rock hard cock applying just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive clit, his smell and especially the way he seems to genuinely enjoy it as much as you are.
"Yeah? Me too, Baby", he grunts and finally lets the hunger take over every pore in his body, thrusting his hips up to meet the movement of your hips and feeling lightheaded at the way your moans are becoming more and more high pitched.
"Please, I need it", his words are a plea, whereas his tone is demanding and sends you even deeper into your pleasure, "cum for me, Baby. Cum with me."
And like flipping a switch, you feel the knot in your core finally snap as the waves of your orgasm start breaking down on you in the sweetest way possible.
You quickly bury your face in his neck, moans snd whimpers, even lighthearted sobs falling past your lips as the sensation of your high spreads in your whole body.
Jake barely manages to take your face into his hands and press his lips against yours before he finally stumbles over the edge with a breathy whimper of your name and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You make sure to kiss him throughout his high, your hips still moving against his cock and subconsciously pushing him into overstimulation.
"S-Stop", his voice is raspier and a little deeper than you've expected, a jolt of excitement rushing through you at the thought of being the reason behind this particular shift, "I'm still cumming."
You nod, yet refuse to listen to his words as you feel his cock twitch against your clothed, yet soaked cunt and his cum slowly seeping through the fabric of his boxers and sweats.
"No more, Baby", he begs gently and kisses your forehead completely out of breath, "way too sensitive. I've never finished this hard before." His confession has warmth blossoming in your chest because even if you've decided to not care about his past experience, you can't help but like the fact of being his first, too.
And once your thighs start aching from the way you've been tensing up for the past few minutes, you let yourself fall against his chest and give each other a good five minutes to catch your breathes.
"Fuck", Jake suddenly chuckles and runs a hair through his messy hair, finally adjusting his glasses and plscing both of his hands on your naked thighs.
"You sound too fucking good", he quickly explains and lets out another soft giggle, "just thinking about it is making me hard again."
"I can definitely return that one", you reply and sit up with a soft hiss the second you're aware of just how much your panties are stuck to the sensitive flesh of your soaked cunt, "I can't wait to hear more of that."
A row of laughters from the both of you fills the room rather quickly and you feel every bit of awkwardness and embarrassment vanish with each second.
After a few minutes of giggling and kissing each other, you both decide it's time to get changed and before you can even think about it, you follow Jake into the bedroom like a little puppy.
"Oh?"
You look at him with brows furrowed in confusion until you realise the reason behind your walk to the other room.
"Oh", you reply and smile sheepishly, "sorry, I got too excited."
"You're okay", Jake mumbles quickly and gives you a quick kiss before he reaches for his bag and pulls out a fresh pair of boxers and can't even begin to explain how glad he is about the second pair of sweats he decided to pack.
You patiently wait for him to return from the bedroom, the shirt he wore throughout the day neatly placed right next to where you're laying on the bed and without any shame you press the fabric against your nose and inhale Jake's calming scent.
You don't even realise how heavy your lids have gotten until that particular moment; the lack of sleep and tiredness from quite the eventful day finally catching up on you. And that's probably why Jake comes out of the bathroom to find you firmly asleep on one side of the bed, his shirt in your hands and your pretty lips pushed into an almost angry pout.
The young parent quickly reaches for the blanket and places it over your body, giving you one last kiss on the forehead before he straightens himself to make his way to the living room.
However, you seem to have comple different plans.
With a soft whine and slightly opened eyes, you reach for his hand and pull him back to you, turning to lay on your back and look up at him.
"I don't mind", you whisper, "I don't mind sleeping in the same bed, if you're comfortable." Of course the young parent doesn't even need a second to decide, just makes his way around to the other side and calmly slips underneath the blanket before he pulls you closer to his body and turns the world off.
And in that particular moment, Jake wonders if this is what home feels like.
Taglist: @writingmochi @raikea10 @moonlighthoon @ajayke-reads @bldelaine @rikisly @enhaz1 @ineedsomezzz @ikeu4life @theskzvibe @kpoprhia @jayzdaze @a-l-i-y-a @catnoirsbitch05 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @end0rchans @ddazed-lhs @sunflowerbebe07 @heeverseblog @voidbeomgyu @heerinnie @vanillabeanwaffle @mimikittysblog @l0vee-l3tters @teawithbucky @fluerz @spilled-coffee-cup @3amstarlight @jungwon-xo @smg-valeria @elicheel @bobariki @beomgyusonlywife @sumarchived @aeminju @sprngfeverr @tya0 @tyunnie-gyuu @jungkkoo
(No addition to the taglist without a visible indication of age on your blog!)
(A/N: Comments, reblogs, asks – feedback of any kind is very very appreciated!🥺🎀🧸)
#enhypen social media au#enhypen smut#jake sim smut#enhypen smau#enhypen writers#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun smut#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff
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Room for Dessert
Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F!Reader
Summary: it's date night for you and Bob and as always, he is the most doting gentleman you know. full of manners and always wanting to be up to expectations! after a gracious dinner, Bob reminds you there’s still a course you missed at the restaurant.
Word count: 1,658 words
Author notes: HIIIIIII i got this as a prompt from a prompt sheet ages ago and wanted to put this out for mr perfect in every way's birthday but i finished it maybe two hours after the day ended in EST time so!! a day late but, in honor of blorbo's birthday a very nice little birthday treat :)))) HEY THIS HAS SMUT SO IF YOU AREN'T 18+ GTFO || f receiving oral, maybe spanking? not sure it counts. some nsfw language for sure. Thank you @callsignthirsty for beta-ing the majority of this as always you are crucial for my writing :))))))
Your darling and sweet man had gone the extra mile for date night. A white tablecloth restaurant, reservations, bottle service to your table, and the whole nine yards. He’d gotten himself all dressed up just so you could do the same. He’d held doors, played your playlist the whole way in his beat-up classic truck – the perfect man. There was even a fresh set of flowers on the counter when you’d returned home. Amazed by all of this, you look back at him as you drift into the kitchen.
“You have really outdone yourself, Bo.” Your fingers caress the petals, looking over the roses with such delicate motions. You catch Bob’s reflection in the window as he comes up behind you.
“I wouldn’t call it outdoing myself if this is what I deem the standard.” Hands wrap so delicately around your waist, finding themselves at home as the two of you linger in the continued feel-good endorphins from the night.
You have work in the morning. He has training. Yet as his palms flatten against the elegant fabric of your dress, you hum with ease and let your head sink back to his shoulder. Bob takes this new spot as an invitation to pepper minute and delicate kisses up your neck, to your jawline. If this keeps going, the two of you might end up miserable and sleep-deprived. His hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh convinces you to ditch the bedtime.
“Your standard is far from the industry’s,” you tease, looking at how his blue eyes seem to shift in the low light of your kitchen.
“Guess you’ve got the top-of-the-line product then, now don’t you darlin’?” Hands travel from where they’d been innocently tracing little circles on your hip bones. Instead, slinking down to your thighs to toy with the hem of your skirt in this wonderful dress (which he’d bought you just for tonight).
“It would seem that way. And it’s still running like a dream three years later.” There’s an amused huff of air deposited onto your skin, hands busy entertaining the softness of your thighs, fingertips paving a path of goosebumps under them.
“You sure about that? No need for a diagnostics run? Make sure there aren’t any lingering bugs that might be screwing up the hardware?” There’s an easy giggle that leaves you while his hands busy themselves spinning you back around to face him, guiding you so you are flush against the counter of the island.
“I mean, everything seems to be in working order.” Your own arms wrap up around his neck as he gets impossibly closer, lips gluing themselves back to the skin of your neck, moving downward this time. One hand takes yours, holding onto it innocently as his tongue draws a hotspot to your skin. In one swift movement, he’s flattening your hand against his groin, smirking at the way your breath catches when you make contact.
“I think you’re right, baby.” He’s rock-hard. Instead of letting you linger in the sensation, Bob’s moving before you can even indulge in his previous action, hands gripping under your ass and carefully lifting you to rest on the counter. His lips meet yours for the first time since arriving home, his tongue pushing its way to its rightful place against yours. One hand continues to toy with anything he can find under your skirt, his fingers skating to the lace of your underwear, tugging at them with no real defined goal. You're like magnets, Bob's large hand hopelessly drawn to your waist, your chest, fingers desperately grasping at you through the padding of your bra. There’s a resistance as his lips pull back, moving back to the spot right under your ear. “You know, I just realized something.” The low baritone of his register vibrates the shell of your ear.
“Did you get a notification on your operating system?” The tease leaves him nipping at your ear.
“Something like that,” he huffs, hands still gripping onto you as if you will vanish if he lets you go. “We completely skipped over the dessert portion of dinner.”
“Was it on the agenda?” The response comes quick, but not nearly as instant as the following one. “Or is this fine-tuned machine starting to break down?” His hand is gripping your chest again, an almost punishing response to your question.
“This machine would like to self-correct if you’d just be patient enough.” He finally breaks the magnetic spell he’s under, blue eyes a heavy, royal color by this point. His hands easily glide back under your skirt, both of them working in tandem to tug the cotton from your hips. You shift to help him rid the fabric from your body, the cold granite of the countertop making you shiver on contact. With your panties on the floor, his hands drop to the counter, boxing you in as you rest on a makeshift pedestal to your most nerdy—yet flushed and intoxicating—boyfriend. The cocksure demeanor has begun to fade ever so slightly, uncertainty creeping in at the most inopportune time. “I- ugh-” his fingers are chilled from the stone when they return to your waist.
Your eyes meet with his, the softness of your boyfriend suddenly on full display as his hands make laps on your thighs, running up and down. A cautious hand comes up to his chin, forefinger and thumb gripping it. “Honey?”
This happens from time to time. He’ll be on such a roll, so easily matching the energy that you ignite in him, then suddenly shut down as if he’s rebooting. Once, he told you that he would get so overwhelmed with how many emotions he felt toward you—so turned on—that he would short-circuit and need a minute for all systems to come back online. Bob’s gaze returns to yours, no longer spaced out, hands pausing their continuous motion in favor of gripping at your thighs once more.
“Would it be too crass to say I want you to come on my glasses?” All systems go. Your hand shifts up to caress his jawline, carefully guiding his lips back to yours.
“No. It’s fucking hot-” Your answer evaporates into the air as you tug him close again, his hips slotting between your easily parted thighs.
“Should I–?” he gasps, eyes flicking toward the floor before they return to your mouth.
“If you want me to cum on your glasses, Bo?” You run your tongue over your kiss-stung lips. “Yeah.”
Bob surges forward, eager to lick into your mouth, claiming it before falling to his knees. You card your fingers through his hair and shift your legs further apart to give him more room to work with. “God, baby, you look so good like this,” he groans. The praise jolts you as large hands settle on the inside of your thighs, careful lips starting a trail of kisses from the top of one knee, up your leg, and right to your dripping center. His breath staccatos over your skin, hovering as a thumb carefully spreads you, basking in what he’s done to you. “Oh, this never gets old, angel, never, never.” The sound of his voice fades as his tongue expertly glides up your folds, making a lap or two at the top that sends your breathing pattern into a fit. You attempt to brace against the counter as he works, your hand gripping taut to the curls you adored.
You aren’t sure what code Bob has written in his brain that gives you the benefit of duality: the charming and beyond kind gentleman at dinner this evening and the absolutely rogue man between your legs.
“You taste so good, baby, so fucking amazing—fuck dessert,” it’s muttered against your cunt, eagerly lapped away to send your stomach spiraling. You have half a mind to let the counter behind you morph into a mattress as your eyes fall shut. You’re tempted to let the stone cool your skin from the burning sensation Bob is supplying you.
Instead, you jump, eyes shooting open when his hand comes to the outside of your thigh. Glancing down, blue eyes drill into yours, Bob pulling away with the hardest focus chiseled into his features. “Eyes on me.” Oh, fuck, he was taking it to the extremes. Bob’s ability to hyperfocus was an advantage and a disadvantage. Such as right now, when he is insistent on making you watch as he devours you, barely getting enough air as he fastens himself even more firmly against you.
As his tongue pushes into you, a shrill sound escapes you. You’re not going to be much longer, if he stays down this path. Bob just might get his wish. And he does, not even minutes later, your legs viscerally shaking, large hands clamping them to the counter to prevent you from locking your thighs around his head in an effort to stop. Gasping for air, slapping the palm of your hand against the countertop, your words are short off your lips, “Bob, baby, you can- shit- honey that’s enough,” however, he hasn’t powered down yet, with no intentions on stopping. When you try again, an arm crosses over your hips, pushing you down just enough to keep him centered right where he needed to be to tie the knot in your stomach again. You can’t help the way you squirm and writhe under him, strong arm gripping to your hips as he frantically swipes his tongue against you - until you break, nearly screaming under him, possibly - no, likely disturbing the neighbors.
You’ve laid fully back on the stone by this point, unable to will yourself to move after all Bob had put you through. There’s a pop of his knee when he stands up, hands coming to either side of your body, leaning onto the counter and over top of you. Glasses not only fogged up to no end, but in dire need of a cleaning.
#bob floyd#bob floyd x f!reader#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd x f!reader#robert floyd x reader#robert x reader
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If Given the Chance… (1)
BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader | SteveRogers x Female!Reader (ugh I don’t know it’s messy)
summary: After an accident on a mission, Bucky and Steve find themselves in the body of the other and both soon begin to act like it too. But while Bucky tries to fix the problem, Steve takes his opportunity to taste his deepest desires, falling into a role he’d never thought he’d get to play: your boyfriend.
a/n: remember this ask? yeah... it took a completely different turn
word count: 3.4k
warnings: a confused and hopeless Stevie, pining, agony, angst, betrayal, fluff, a little heated, this borders dub-con but then again not really, still - !MINORS DNI!
･ﾟ✫* 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ
(please excuse my horrid Photoshop skills, but no GIF combination could match my vision...)
Change. What was it really? Bucky never thought people truly changed. That deep in their hearts they’d always be the same. And yet, he felt as though he had been part of three different personas so far. He’d always wondered what it must be like to just switch bodies with someone. To represent something different - a contrast to what the body was used to.
He didn’t need to wonder anymore. Because he’d experienced it. The person he had been before Hydra was not the same as the winter soldier. And neither was the person he was today - different from both of his prior states. And even though he had lived through it, change, he was here, wondering what it must be like.
He’d read a poem once. A sad, hopeless one. But at the end, it said to read it again - from the bottom up, and its meaning shifted entirely. Transformed from a depressing mood into an optimistic one. Changed, just like that.
So, Bucky wasn’t quite sure whether he had experienced that kind of change before. He’d changed looks, and people told him his heart had not shifted one bit. He’d changed occupations, and he’d not felt as though his values had stayed the same. He had contradicted everything he’d ever imagined change to be. Even though he never really knew what it was.
But now? Now he had proper change. A good one? He wasn’t sure. Not terrible, that was for certain. But definitely one he needed to reverse.
Steve’s eyes stared back at him through the shiny surface of the window. Confusion etched in his brow he’d never seen on his best friend before. The blonde hair disheveled, eyes more exhausted-looking than they usually did, he pushed a deep breath out of his lunges.
What a mess.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m good. What about you?”
“I’m okay, I’m just-“
“What? What is it?”
“You.”
“Huh?”
“I’m... you.”
What a fucking mess.
So Steve was Bucky and Bucky was Steve. But at the same time, they were still themselves, just somehow stuck in the other’s body. It had been four hours since the incident and Bucky was still panicking. He felt the responsibility for the “team” weighing his body down - the body that wasn’t his, but most definitely the reason for his distress. They were about to arrive in the next thirty minutes and no one at the compound knew what had happened. No one. Not Tony, not Bruce, not you.
Oh god, you didn’t know your boyfriend was trapped in his best friend’s body. Bucky didn’t even know how he would start to explain it. You were very understanding and patient, but Bucky feared that this might introduce a new sphere of problems neither of you had encountered before.
The two friends hadn’t talked about it. Steve and Bucky both knew it was a problem that needed solving, but Steve had been awfully quiet ever since they boarded the Quinjet home. It certainly didn’t help Bucky relax. At least it was late in the night. The chances of encountering another Avenger when they would get back were small and left him a few hours of dealing with it all - maybe sleep it off.
Who was he kidding?
Bucky wouldn’t be sleeping. He would stay up, wait until it was a reasonable enough hour to drag Bruce to his lab and get him started on fixing the problem not even he knew the actual cause of.
Running, hiding, finding a weird machine, toppling over a storage rack, and the accidental push of a button. An explosion, heat, but no pain - just utter confusion.
Bucky shook his head as he took a seat beside Steve in the cockpit. Not even he would believe himself if he were told this story...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve hadn’t planned for this to happen. He just wanted to explain things to you, tell you what had occurred on the mission - even though he didn’t quite know himself - and then find Bucky. For a second, he had even forgotten. He had forgotten that, in a way, he was Bucky. And that you wouldn’t know until he told you that he was Steve. Steve, your boyfriend’s best friend who had been in love with you from the day he met you.
Yeah... that was an issue. Bucky didn’t know and neither did you. God behold, Steve got in the way of his oldest friend’s happiness. He would never do that. Especially not when that friend had suffered for so long. So, Steve had just kept to himself, watching as Bucky was the one holding you during movie nights, sleeping in your bed, and kissing you goodbye.
It hurt. But Steve had gotten used to the familiar sting in his chest whenever he witnessed his best friend’s hands on you or when your adoring smile was sent his way. He swallowed the pain like it was nothing, and it got easier every time. He still needed to remind himself though: You can’t, Steve. You don’t want to, Steve.
But now... now might have been the only opportunity to get away with it. No. He would never. He couldn’t.
“Bucky!” Your door opened and Steve felt your hands around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips. Wow.
Steve’s body was on fire. The stinging he usually felt in his chest now spreading through his entire body, creating goosebumps on his skin. It felt so different, so good.
Overwhelmed by the feeling, he stumbled forward, guiding you back by your hips and shutting the door with his foot.
Endless nights imagining what your pillowy lips would feel like on his seemed silly now that he tasted you. His mind had never even come close. You were so much softer, so much warmer... so much more rewarding than anything his imagination could cook up.
Steve was addicted now, there was no going back. You were like a drug that tied him to your supply forever.
His hands began to roam your body, moving your hair, smelling your scent, feeling every bump and curve of your body as he got lost in your embrace. It was too easy to forget it wasn’t him you were kissing. Steve was just as tall as your Boyfriend, he was just as strong - every movement, every look - it felt the same.
Hungrily, Steve’s wet kisses wandered down your neck until he reached the spot that drew a grasp from your lips and it made his pants feel tighter.
“What’s this about,” you chuckled as your palm gently pressed against his chest. Steve reluctantly loosened his grip around you just to see that shining smile of yours beaming up at him. Holy shit. This must be what heaven feels like.
“I just missed you-” his answer got swallowed in the crook of your neck again, Steve’s cheek settling to your skin when he mumbled the last part beneath your ear. “...a lot.”
You didn’t even know how much. And as you chuckled and ran your hands down his back, Steve wondered if he could even call it missing when he never really had you in the first place. But then you kissed his shoulder and Steve decided that he didn’t care. Your lips just felt a little too good not to miss in any circumstance - whatever it meant now - and he had lost you to his best friend somehow, so he was allowed to miss.
“Missed you too.” Steve smiled and began to pick up his kissing when he felt your lips press to his shoulder a second time.
It was strange how natural this interaction felt for Steve. He didn't know if that was because he had imagined it a hundred times, dreamt about you more nights than he liked to admit - each time waking with an ache in more places than one and the added incapability to stop it. Steve had not had a girlfriend since he met you. He tried a few hookups, each one with the picture of you in his head, the actual person beneath him serving merely the purpose of physical touch, but it wasn’t enough. Especially now that he knew what it could feel like - kissing you alone - nothing could ever compare.
Lost in his thoughts, his hands wandered down your body, squeezing parts of you he’d only ever imagined touching, and every breathy moan he pulled from you became a tiny celebration in his mind.
Your hands held on tight to his neck when his knee found its way between your legs, your head falling back, giving him just that much more ground to place his soft attacks. He growled against your skin when your sounds grew high pitched, unbelievable gratification consuming his body - driving him further.
This was perfect, this was all he ever wanted this- “Ah, Bucky!” This was wrong.
And Steve was reminded of what he was doing right now. His hands retracted immediately, but you clung to his neck like glue. “Please,” you whimpered and his head fell back into you like an instinct, the urge to bring you pleasure too strong to stop his movements entirely.
But, fuck, he was an awful person.
With trembling hands and a stinging in his chest, he stepped back from you. Your eyes stared at him in confusion, desperate for anything - pleasure, closure. And Steve wanted to give it all to you. But he wasn’t allowed to. He was Steve - your boyfriend’s best friend. A terrible one, too.
“I’m... I’m so sorry,” he stuttered through the glossy shimmer forming in his eyes.
“What?” Shit. Steve turned before you could see the first tear fall from his eyes. He couldn’t bear seeing your face any longer - that beautiful, innocent face with so much irritation and sadness poisoning its features. You didn't deserve this, you didn’t deserve to be pulled into this mess by him. It was wrong, so fucking wrong.
Steve sped towards the lab immediately, barely missing Bucky on his way out of the glass doors. But Bucky merely sent a nod his way, leaving Bruce to greet him with an exhausted smile.
“You need to do something. Now.”
❁ ❁ ❁
“Hey.”
“Oh, hey.”
Bucky turned around to see you standing in the doorway, a big smile instantly settling on his face. You looked beautiful, he thought every time he saw you - especially after a mission that lasted for several days in which he did not get to see you.
His fingers itched to reach out to you, pull you into him and just kiss your pretty face, but once he caught his left arm lifting, and missing the sleek black gleam he was so used to, Bucky was reminded that he needed to behave differently now.
He hadn’t told you about the accident yet. Bruce seemed to know what he was doing, so Bucky was just hopeful the issue would be resolved soon. Until then, he needed to cope with the constant panic surging through him at his and Steve’s states.
The desk chair squeaked when he tuned to you, watching as you roamed about Steve’s office and eyed the sketch he had framed on the cupboard. That’s when he noticed your posture - how your shoulders were slightly hunched, your head a little lower than usual, and a faint frown hiding behind the hairs falling into your face.
“What’s wrong, doll?” He stood up wanting to approach you but remembering his place again. Now he was just standing there, helpless and unsure of what to do as he watched you toy with the edges of the notebook laying in front of you.
You sighed. “Bucky is being weird... I hope he’s okay but he wouldn’t talk to me.” You glanced at him shortly and the corners of your mouth jerked downward. “I thought maybe... I don’t know, maybe you know what’s going on.” You stared at him hopefully. “Did something happen on the mission?”
I’m right here, baby. And I would be so much better if I could tell you.
Bucky willed his thoughts silent, finally stepping forward and placing his hand on your shoulder.
“It was a long mission, give him some time to rest...” God, he hated lying to you. But it was for the best. He didn’t want you to worry any more than you already did, as much as it hurt to see you this clueless.
Bucky could only imagine how exhausting this whole ordeal was for Steve. He was going through the same thing, but Steve had to juggle you - or as it seemed, ignore you - on top of it. The friends still hadn’t talked about what to do. There had just seemed to be a common understanding settled between them, and that was to keep as many people out of this as possible.
Still, Bucky wondered how his best friend was doing. This was an unusual situation, and he cared for him just as much as he did for you.
“Maybe you’re right.” You turned to him with a saddened face. “But I can’t help but feel like there is something else bothering him. I just want him to be okay...”
“We both do, doll.” Bucky couldn’t help it, he pulled you into his chest by your wrist - hoping it would be less intimate than by your waist like he always did - and tugged your head beneath his chin.
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding once your body molded against his, the familiar feeling of content mixing with the underlying tension he had been plagued with since the mission. That was what he had needed. To feel you again, touch you, have your arms hug him to your body, and be entranced by your perfume again.
It was hard not to kiss your hair, or inhale your shampoo too obviously when he held you like this. It was what he always did when he was Bucky - but now he was Steve. And Bucky never imagined he could hate being Steve so much.
He shook the thought immediately, focusing on you and squeezing you tight one more time before he let you go. He missed your touch the second you retracted your arms, sending a weak smile up to him. Oh, how he’d love to kiss that frown away, to touch you until he heard that beautiful laugh of yours again. But he couldn’t do it, he was not allowed to - he was Steve.
“Thank you, Steve.”
“Anytime.” He smiled reluctantly as he watched you leave with mixed feelings.
Bucky didn’t know how much longer he could endure this.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Thank fucking God!” Bucky exclaimed as he padded down his body - his own body.
It had been two weeks. Two weeks of constant worry and agony, lonely nights, and the pressure of keeping this ridiculous secret. But Bruce had finally done it. Bucky didn’t know how - and it wasn’t super important to him either - but he was glad he finally had his own body back.
“You did it!” Steve stated with mild enthusiasm. He wasn’t sure if it made any difference anymore. He didn’t hate himself less for what had happened. But at least, now, he didn’t need to worry about making the mistake again.
Bruce just responded with a proud shrug, a blush almost forming on his cheeks before his smile fell again.
That’s when you entered the lab with a pile of manila folders in your hand.
“What’s going on in here?” You asked, excited to experience a light atmosphere in a room both Steve and Bucky were in. It had been different for a couple weeks now, and Bucky was still acting weird, but something told you, he was getting better. Well, maybe the laugh you had heard from the hallways had, but now he was just staring at you as Bruce did.
“What? Am I interrupting something? I just wanted to give you these files, Banner, I-” you trailed off when your eyes wandered from the men to the desk you had halted next to, a wild array of papers and opened digital files littering the work area as you placed your addition there as well.
You had always been a fast reader - a talent that came in handy more times than one would think - so your eyes scanned the documents in haste, collecting keywords and notes until they landed on a particularly concise one: Possible body switch triggers. What the hell? Super Soldiers. Consciousness. Machine. Serum. Third vessel for transfer. What the hell what the hell what the hell?!
You looked up, willing the confusion to the back of your mind as you pierced Bruce with a cold stare. “A body switch project? Really, Bruce? It’s not like we’re already down one person since Peter decided to test out his new jet-pack prototype.”
Bruce didn’t say anything. Instead, Bucky stepped forward with a reasoning tone. “Baby-“
“And you.” Your finger pointed at him. “I thought you were smarter. First, you’re acting all weird, and now you’re calling me ‘baby’ again,” you stated plainly, crossing your arms. Steve swallowed thickly, watching the interaction between you and Bucky play out with his lip between his teeth. “What- is this why you were behaving so weird? Are you in on this? Are you seriously participating as a lab rat?”
“I... we...” Bucky frantically searched the room for his teammates’ support, trailing off when everyone avoided his eyes. Traitors.
“Who is switching bodies? And why couldn’t you tell me?” The room had gotten silent, but you weren’t about to back down. You wanted answers, especially when the people you cared about did stupid things that risked their lives more than their job already did. You scanned each of them carefully, assessing which one was to break first under your solid stare. Steve was wringing his hands, his eyes trained on the ground - nervous, maybe, scared.
Bruce was sweating bullets. He hated being in fussy situations, always tense to keep the big guy down. He would speak first - de-escalation was his second nature… well, apart from the escalating one.
Bucky had his jaw wired shut, a frequent side eye assessing the state of his fellow coworkers carefully. Nobody wanted to break it to you. Especially since they had hidden the switch from you for two weeks. You weren’t big on betrayal and everyone knew it.
“They-“ Bruce started but was shut up by Bucky’s death stare quickly. How dare he do him so dirty?
“You were saying?” You zeroed in on the scientist, a hopeful yet clueless look on your face, but Bruce was too scared of Bucky to continue. He hated lying to you, everyone did.
But you wouldn’t budge, staring him down, challenging him to break the silence. What was so bad about something that hadn’t even happened yet?
But then a deep voice sounded from the other corner of the room. “Bucky and I did.” Less steady than usual and still avoiding your eyes, Steve let his hands fall to his sides. “On accident...”
And Bucky sighed, half relieved, half angry at his friend.
“What? When?”
“On the last mission,” Bruce chimed in, just to earn another stink eye from Bucky.
“The last mission two weeks ago? Two Weeks?!”
“I wanted to tell you, okay? But we thought it was best if we kept it a secret... for everyone’s sake.” The brunette super soldier stepped forward, his hands showing surrender when he moved into your personal space.
“And you didn’t think to include me? Your girlfriend?” You looked at him appalled. Why the hell did he not say anything? Would you have ever known had you not walked in on-
“I'm sorry.” Your breath hitched when Bucky pulled you into his arms, placing a firm kiss on your head before burying his face in your neck again.
Because that was when you realized - when you remembered - the last time it had happened.
Steve finally dared to look up at the couple in front of him only to find you staring at him over his best friend’s shoulder.
You knew.
Steve could see it in your eyes - that look you were giving him made him shudder. There was slight confusion in your stare, a little sadness, too. You knew, but Steve knew you wouldn’t lose a word over it.
He tore his longing stare from you and looked down bashfully, ticking his jaw before he could say or do anything stupid. That’s when he felt the sorrow covering his senses again, the hurtful pull on his heart that he had become so used to at the sight of you in Bucky’s arms.
He’s had you once, got to taste you once - and it was one time too many, he reminded himself.
And even though it hurt, he found comfort in the familiarity the feeling held.
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Ragnvindr(s)
Pairing: Diluc x fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)
Summary: The Ragnvindr clan is expecting a new addition.
Warnings: pregnancy and mention of kids, characters expecting and becoming parents
A/N: Hi im back, hopefully i'll manage to post more regularly bc I have truly missed this (writing and posting). This is the first fic of my dad!character series bc I have a huge case of baby fever and seeing my favorites as dads satisfies my daddy and abandonment issues.
“Can you please take a seat? Boss is going to kill me if he finds out you’ve been exerting yourself.” Charles could have sworn to any archon willing to listen to his pleas that he had lost ten years from his life during this six hour shift. He was on bar duty this evening, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing he hadn’t done before. What he hadn’t done before was have his boss’s pregnant wife on duty with him. “I swear miss, you’re giving me gray hairs.” Funny, now that he thinks of it, he had heard his boss utter the same exact words three hours prior when he dropped her off, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he had looked at his wife worryingly. She rolled her eyes at his comments going back to cleaning the dried glasses littering the underside of the bar.
“Barbara said that moving around would do me good. Besides,” she frowned at him, the fire burning in her eyes making it clear to Charles why master Diluc had found his match in her. “I’m feeling peachy.” She wasn’t even that far along, stomach barely showing from under her slightly loose blouse. Diluc, ever since it had been revealed that her sudden unwellness was due to her expecting their child, had become thrice as protective than he already was, barely leaving her out of his sight. Truthfully, as much as she loved and cherished her husband, being under constant surveillance was starting to irritate her. She couldn’t fault him; this was his first time going through such an experience and he was rightfully anxious. A soft hum escaped her lips at the thought of his frazzled gaze every time she shifted in her seat while they went through documents of the winery. Diluc was going to be an amazing father, she knew that from the moment she announced her pregnancy to him. What she was even more certain about was, the gray hairs he was bound to start sprouting by the end of these agonizingly long nine months.
The door to the tavern flew open and in stepped a slightly agitated Diluc, hair sticking out from his usual high ponytail he dawns whenever he works behind the bar and eyes darting all over her figure as she continued to shine the glass in her hand. His shoulders sagged slightly in relief upon seeing her in one piece. With a sigh he shed the heavy layers on his shoulders before walking behind the bar, peking her cheek once with a hand resting on the slight bump of her stomach.
“Why are you up? Again.” He said, a serious expression engraved on his features, brows furrowing when she simply hummed in response. He sighed again, rubbing at his temples before kissing her cheek again and reaching for one of her glasses. “You two are going to be the death of me.”
“And they haven’t even been born yet.” She giggled again, leaning into his side, head tilting so it rests securely on his shoulder. Instinctively, he leaned closer, cheek smooshed on her hairline. “Imagine the terror once they start walking or even worse, running.” She swears she could already see the dark circles forming under his eyes which only made her laugh harder. The shift went by calmly with the tavern not being at its highest customer rate. They even got the chance to close up earlier than usual and make it back to the manner before midnight. Once inside, Diluc helped her hang her coat-even though she whined about being capable of doing it herself- and then led her to the kitchen where their dinner awaited them on the counter. Adelinde had taken it upon herself to teach both her masters the art of healthy nutrition; she had tried twice before in the past but they both were too stubborn and drowning in work to keep up a healthy diet, now with a child on the way they were more than willing to listen to her advice.
Taking a seat side by side they dug in, emptying their plates in a matter of minutes with not even a peep leaving their lips until they were both done. Diluc brought her chair closer to his own, one arm draped over her shoulders while the other traced patterns on the fabric of her shirt absentmindedly, an action he seemed to be doing more and more each day. He had developed a habit of touching her in some way no matter the time or place or who was with them; whether it be his hand on the small of her back or his warm palm engulfing her own, an arm around her waist or merely their pinkies linked, Diluc couldn’t seem to let go of her no matter what. The citizens of Mondstadt would swoon at his blatant displays of affection, eyes full of unfathomable softness whenever they saw the soon to be parents on a stroll through the busy streets. There were still those select few who side eyed the couple -mostly her-, those whose jealousy shown through the happy facade, who sometimes didn’t even hide their displeasure at the fact that the informant who had managed to take Master DIluc off the market a few years prior was now securing her spot further with the birth of an heir. The Ragnvindrs merely scoffed at their sly comments and back handed compliments, Diluc usually making a mental note to have a word with the Knights about their insolent behavior.
“Our baby is the size of a sweet potato.” She softly broke the silence, hand gently resting on the small sweet potato sized bump. “And in about four weeks they’ll be as big as a pomegranate.” Diluc couldn’t help but place his hand over hers, running his thumb over her knuckles before kissing the crown of her head.
“Barbara sure has a weird way of measuring the weeks of pregnancy.” He unlatched himself from her, hand still resting over her own, as he examined the curve of her stomach trying and failing to imagine a sweet potato sized baby. Eyebrows scrunched in concentration, he failed to notice the pure disbelief written on his wife’s face.
“Are…are you trying to actually imagine a sweet potato?” He looked at her sheepishly for a moment, big red eyes filled with nothing but serenity. Laughter echoed through the empty halls as she burst out into a fit of snorts making Diluc join her after a moment. Once calm, he brought her unbelievably close, kissing the tip of her nose before tucking her head in the crook of his neck and letting his eyelids fall shut.
“I love you.”
BONUS:
The sun was at its highest when Katheryn spotted the family enter the city. The edges of her eyes crinkled as she nodded in acknowledgement at Master Diluc, red hair a mess from the strong winds of the city of freedom. Even worse was the mop of red hair in his arms as his daughter played with the ruby pendant around his neck, completely ignoring her hair obscuring her fathers’ vision. Turning around, they waited for their counterparts to catch up as the lady of house Ragnvindr strode up the steps, another mop of red hair in her arms in the form of a little boy this time, fast asleep while clutching his mothers’ blouse.
#master diluc#diluc fluff#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#genshin impact#dad!diluc x reader#dad diluc#diluc x pregnant!reader#genshin impact x reader
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The Ends Justify The Means
As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman
"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."
Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.
I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.
Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."
"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"
"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."
I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.
"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."
----------------------------------------------
"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.
"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.
Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."
I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.
"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
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OMG😵💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer
5: first time 16: threesome 29: anal
my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...
okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow
UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic
(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)
so to start:
pre- remus x sirius x reader
word count: 1.4k
Prologue
It was for the best, you’d all decided.
“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation.
Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly.
And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them.
The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation.
Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment.
Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice.
So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness.
Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew.
Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.
You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key.
James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours.
Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you.
At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck.
Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.
I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.
A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.
As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.
A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.”
A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.
Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat.
“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”
“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation.
“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead.
“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.
“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.
He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”
Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods.
“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands.
They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak.
“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit.
“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.”
“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.”
“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle.
“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”
They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for.
You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still.
“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on.
Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them.
Except for the music: silence.
Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”
Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.
You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked.
His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query.
You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric.
“Honestly?”
They both nod.
“Both of you…” you confess.
continued in this smut fic
#marauders#marauders x reader#sirius x reader#remus x reader#sirius x remus x reader#wolfstar#wolfstar x reader#marauders smut#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#kinktober2023
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[1:13 AM] — ༉‧₊˚.
ft suna rintaro !
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI! highly, highly suggestive (it’s smut but they don’t rlly get to the good stuff lmfao!), just a lil unedited drabble lmfao !
this was the problem with staying at your parents over the holidays. there was never a chance for any privacy — family constantly filtering in and out of the house all hours of the day. some even going as far to stay the night to sleep off their overindulgences.
it hardly left a moment alone with suna. after being here for 3 days, he couldn’t stand it anymore. not while the two of you were holed up in your childhood bedroom with almost everyone else in the house fast asleep.
granted, most of the nights so far, the two of you were too socially drained to do anything too mischievous but suna was pent up. it had been three whole days since he felt your intimate touch. he couldn’t do it anymore. and he knew you felt the same.
so that’s how you ended up here.
“shhh.” you whisper as you cover sunas mouth with the palm of your hand, his hot breath tickling against you. he shifts his weight over you before you remove your hand. even horizontally, he towers over you, making you feel small under his hold. “you know we can’t. my parents are practically down the hall.”
“baby please. it’s been three days.” the sound he let out was almost a borderline whine, but you knew better. frustration seeps through him, coating him in an absolute need to take you, to have you come undone around him.
his cock was pressed up against your thigh, slowly inching its way to where you need it most. he couldn’t help but grind against you, chasing the sensation and seeking more friction. his fingers grip tighter into your waist.
“we have to be really quiet.” you start to give in, his hand snaking it’s way to rub your clit through your already drenching panties. he leans in closer, his lips ghosting yours. “like really, really quiet.”
“really, really quiet.” he whispers his confirmation before kissing you fiercely. you moan into his mouth on instinct, too caught up in the way his plush lips feel against yours. he pulls back with a shit-eating grin, one that shone through the dark room. “shhh.”
his mocking tone had no right sounding so hot. you pout against his lips, pulling him back in for a deeper one — trying to explore the mouth you were all too familiar with.
“fine.” you submit, grabbing onto his lower back to move him further into you. the sudden change is too much for him — his head falls into the crook of your neck, the groan vibrating against your skin as his cock slips between your thighs. “just behave yourself.”
“i always do princess. you’re the one that can never keep quiet.” he murmurs into your skin, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. he peppers kisses along your neck before working his way back up to your lips, slotting his against yours.
the room was getting too hot — suna starts rolling his hips against you, his cock deliciously pressed up against your clit. his heavy panting filling your ears and dizzying your head. desperation clouded your minds to the point where you almost couldn’t bother to stop grinding against each other to get undressed.
“i wish we were alone right now.” you whisper, trying to fight back the soft whimpers that lodge themselves in your throat. “you feel s’good.”
“i know, i wanna hear all your pretty little noises. wanna hear you sing for me.” he swipes your underwear to the side, dragging a finger through your glistening folds before pushing it in. you keen as your back arches. his other hand shoves his boxers down a bit just so he can fish out his aching cock, precum already dribbling down the sides of his length. “but, sneaky sex is the best sex, babe. just let me show you.”
#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#suna rintaro#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro smut#suna x reader#suna smut#suna x you#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu smut#hq smut
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Late night surprise
Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader
Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Somnophilia (consensual)/ Oral (fem receiving/ Pussy drunk!Aizawa/ Fingering/ Breast play/ One Shot
Notes : This is something that I've been talking about with my bestie @aizawas-non-right-foot 😍
Banner by : @/cafekitsune
Masterlist|Second Masterlist
Part 2
It has been a while— three weeks and five days to be exact, since you were able to spend a quiet evening with your boyfriend. Your schedules have been extremely hectic lately, and his night shifts have become reoccurring for the past few days, leaving you even less time together.
You miss him a lot, and lately, even the frequent calls and voice mails have become insufficient. You want to spend some quality time with him, cuddled up in bed together while watching a movie, or having a pleasant conversation and catching up with one another over dinner, as opposed to eating alone and going straight to an empty cold bed.
When was the last time you woke up in his arms? And how long has it been since you were.. intimate with one another?
Three weeks and five days, that's how long it's been.
_ "Really! You're coming home early today?" your heart almost leapt with joy when you heard a soft 'yes honey' on the other end of the line.
Finally, you will have the whole night to yourselves.
You run around the house like a maniac, fixing dinner, setting the ambiance and taking a quick shower before slipping into something that seemed to always make him lose his mind.
Your luscious curves are gleaming in the mirror as you observe the sexy night gown barely covering your pantiless bum and falling perfectly over your soft skin, "I'm ready."
You check your phone and sigh with relief as your preparations have been completed on time, only a few more minutes until hearing the door click and seeing his beautiful frame stepping into the apartment.
The anticipated few minutes turned into an hour and then another, your delectable dinner is now nothing but a cold lumpy mush, and your cheerful smile is nowhere to be found.
You plop onto your cold empty bed and reach for your phone again, sighing miserably as your eyes scan his latest text once more :
"I'm so sorry honey but something came up, looks like I'll be home late after all."
You're too exhausted to think straight or even move a muscle, your plans have gone to waste after careful preparations, so you need to get your ass up and clean the dining table before succumbing to sleep, not to mention removing the needless night gown that's making you feel stupid at this point.
You need to get up, but your mind is foggy and your head feels heavy on your fluffy pillow, still, you have to put away the food and get changed first.
You have to..
.. have to..
Something feels warm and, wet? A strange yet familiar sensation is spreading throughout your whole body, but what exactly is it? Last thing you can remember was moping about your ruined plans while struggling to fight off sleep, so what happened after that?
_ "Fuck, I can't believe I had to miss this after being forced into a second shift."
You recognize this voice, this growl, but where is it coming from? You're asleep right? Then it must be a dream..
_ "I'm so sorry for being late princess, so let me make it up to you huh?"
There it is again, that same recognizable voice.
_ "Shouta.." this dream, this sensation, it all feels too realistic.
_ "Yes honey I'm right here."
Your eyes flutter open and your body jerks in surprise as you clearly hear it this time, it's not a dream is it?
_ "Shouta, what are you.. oh God!" you tilt your head back and arch off the bed as you feel it deeper, his warm fat tongue, licking its way into your slick walls.
You are still in a haze, your vision is blurry and your brain is foggy, but your body is reacting on its own. You reach out a shaky hand and grab onto his raven locks, pushing his face deeper against you.
This isn't an unusual occurrence, you can't remember how many times you have awoken to find his lips or fingers latched onto you, and it's a favor that you have eagerly paid back many times in return.
The pleasure your man is giving you seems more intense than usual, it has been a while after all.
_ "Fuck I missed you gorgeous.." his words are mixed with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrate into your core, he seems out of it, needy and desperate while lapping up your cute love bud and nibbling on the surrounding swollen lips like a bear clinging to a honey tree.
Your heavy eyes travel downward to steal a glimpse of the man doing wonders for you, and you whimper as you're faced with an arousing sight that almost gets you spasming violently with intense pleasure.
It's exhilarating, your boyfriend is still in his work attire, filthy sweaty and disheveled, and it looks like burying his face between your legs was the first thing he thought of doing after walking into the house.
You can't help gawking at him, propping yourself up on quivering elbows to have a better view of your beloved, and biting down on your lip as a knot starts to form in the pit of your belly.
He is beautiful, with his flushed skin and focused eyes staring back at you, and his soft hair falling perfectly around his face and neck to tickle your sensitive skin with every little move he's making.
His calloused hands release your thighs to slide along your sides, bringing your night gown further up and revealing more of your flesh to him.
_ "You dare fall asleep while wearing this instead of waiting for me? You're a bad girl." his playful words are groaned against your weeping cunt, and your legs instinctively squeeze him tight between them.
_ "Stop talking! Please don't talk with that in your mouth!" your cute little outburst brings a throaty chuckle out of the man who insists on feigning ignorance.
_ "Why's that? Why can't I speak while pleasuring my princess?" his purrs send a shudder deep inside of you.
This bastard knows his effect on you, he loves tormenting you, seeing you helpless underneath him, and he succeeds in making his wish come true every single time.
Your arms give out and your back hits the mattress again, you can no longer see his face but the feeling of his eager mouth is driving you mad.
His hands move under your silky night gown to grope your mounds, thumbs brushing over your perky nipples while his tongue fucks you deep and slow.
You're not going to last much longer at this rate, your heart is pounding harshly in your chest, and your whimpers are getting louder and needier by the second, "keep going! Please! Just a bit more!" your shameless demands are well received, as he humms with delight and keeps on thrusting his tongue deeper within you.
His fingers carry on massaging your soft breasts, kneading your flesh and pinching your perky teats teasingly before one of his large hands runs down your body and rests on your lower belly.
You know what this means, though you're not sure if your body will be able to handle any anymore of his taunting behavior, you've just about reached your limit.
_ "Shouta, I'm so close.."
He retracts his tongue and kisses your clit before rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.
Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out of it, your breath gets caught in your throat and your body twists under his brute dominance as his fingers take control.
You're a wreck, shattering a little bit more each second that passes, and he loves it.
His lips kiss along your inner thighs, and his fingers curl up and stroke that one particular sweet spot he knows all too well.
_ "No wait.. wait! It's too.. too much!" you finally find your voice, crying out a warning but only a moment before giving in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering uncontrollably and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.
_ "That's my girl, you've done a good job sweetheart." he cooes sweetly while trailing a few soft kisses along your sensitive cunt, "so how's my princess feeling?"
_ "Perfect.." you breathe out drowsily, a satisfied smile adorning your face.
He carefully licks you clean, attentive as to not overstimulate you while flicking his tongue up and down on your throbbing clit, "fuck.. what a treat."
You giggle happily and reach out for him to get closer, your blush deepening as you notice his reddening lips and glistening chin, proof of what he has just done for you.
_ "I'm sorry for missing our date love, but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow." he looks apologetic as he speaks, and you can't help the giggles escaping your throat, he is truly adorable.
_ "But I don't want to wait until tomorrow, so how about taking a shower together right now and see what happens?" you request suggestively, sneaking a hand between your bodies and pressing it against his raging stiffness.
_ "Oh I'd love that even more."
#aizawa shota x reader#aizawa shota x y/n#aizawa shouta smut#aizawa shota x you#aizawa shota smut#aizawa shouta x you#aizawa shouta x reader#aizawa x you#aizawa headcanons#aizawa smut#aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa imagine#shouta aizawa headcanons#shouta aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa smut#bnha smut#mha smut#shouta aizawa fluff#shota aizawa fluff#tw: somnophilia
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Toxic!BalletAU!Jordan where your dance studio becomes you two's bubble.
On paper most rooms are free for all at all times but when you need some privacy you need to schedule and Jordan always needs some privacy especially since you two have been paired up for more than one performance together.
you two have been spending all your time together training and with Jordan always scheduling your time together in the evening your training has been long and tiresome often leading to the two of you exhausted on the floor.
With pauses here and there you test the water, sometimes your questions are met with dry, "shut up." Or "that's none of your buisness." But sometimes after a three hour session Jordan is exhausted enough to answer your questions.
It feels a bit like pillow talk, Jordan will be spread on the floor trying to rest for a few minutes while you'll be massaging your ankles and they'll huff before answering your questions.
You touch everything little by little, their power, if they were scared the first time they shifted, how their parents reacted or questions unrelated to that like how they came to want to become a dancer or what music they listen to.
You two feel it. Especially Jordan when the sun sets and it's been down for a few hours, the vibe has changed it's different and it's just the two of you. They'll still be banter and sarcasm but they'll be soft moments too where Jordan would check their notifications and messages before they turn around ready to start again when they see you napping on the floor and 'reluctantly' (that's what they convince themselves) let you sleep for a small 30 minutes before they gently nudge you with their foot to stand back up and go at it again.
I have so many more in store!
oh my god im melted ice cream on the floor
me when I wrote more than i expected to.
they really start showing their love language too ( i think they're heavy on physical touch and acts of service) to the point where they have this since of pride in their chest whenever you look to them expectantly, doe like eyes wide, and they present you with your protein bar. they ignore the warmth in their chest at how it feels to - to take care of you - feed you, watch you get replenished. and you start falling into this sense of comfort around them, even if there's still moments you genuinely don't know if they hate you or not, you couldn't do what you're doing with anyone else. something in you feels safe around them, despite the thorns threatening to prick you at every turn.
but it feels good to learn about them little by little. you try and be a positive person, maybe you try too hard but thats a discussion for another time, but you're suprised at the intensity of the dark emotions that come over you when you learn about their parents, the way they dont accept jordan - how they're basically the whole reason jordan doesn't shift in front of people here. it actually makes jordan laugh one day, a sharp sound - "shit - you look like a pissed off little rabbit. what, you gonna pout my parents to death?"
that leads to you huffing and shoving at their shoulders, and they actually nudge over a little, in their fem!form - and that's how it starts. a tussle, playfighting really - they just suddenly can't stop giggling at your attempts to be intimidating and you start off miffed but end up just doing it to hear them continue to laugh - because its such a beautiful sound. you think you could bottle it up. wear it around your neck forever.
eventually they pin you under them, panting a little, grinning and flushed - their longer hair fluttering in the space between you. and the giggles die down, their eyes go from mirth at your expense to something - something shockingly tender. it traps the air in your chest. you both have a moment of looking at eachothers lips, then your eyes, before they're leaning in, hungry and fast - and this is all so new - you've never been kissed by anyone - let alone a woman - and you find you're not afraid. far from it. your legs seem to spread natrually, wrapping around their slim waist, pulling them into you.
they kiss you so intensely, its ravenous really, a moan clawing its way from deep in their chest as they move to kiss along your neck - reach down and grip your thigh, yanking it higher around their hips so they can - can grind down. and you gasp at the friction of their cunt on yours - the tights you're both wearing thin enough you can feel the pressure as they drive their hips against you - mimicking - mimicking
"this is how i think about fucking you - " they say, biting at your earlobe, "all the damn time."
you whine, hands scrabbling at their back - "jordan." you gasp, "don't stop - please dont stop."
"fuuck." it comes out like a hiss, they're really rutting you into the floor now, you can feel the wetness of your cunt, of theirs, seeping together, mixing in the sheer fabric separating you both - "god, what're you doing to me." a hand sneaks up, wraps around your throat in an almost punishing manner, "haven't cum this way in ages - fuck - this little freshmen cunt -"
they're cut off, groaning, and your thighs squeeze around their hips, rocking your pelvis up to meet theirs and you hit that peak right after they do - eyes rolling back into your skull at how good it is.
they roll off you, staring up at the ceiling. a kind of dazed, content expression on their face.
and then you say, "that's never happened to me before."
its like a shudder comes down - reality crashing back. they suddenly remember you're a fucking - virgin. and they dont get attached. fuck. especially too people they're working closely with. that familiar panic, panic at this becoming - a thing. they sit up.
"yeah, well. now we can put this - whatever the fuck it was - sexual tension, i guess, behind us. no more missteps."
you feel your heart crack a little. "um, jordan?"
they glance at you as they get their things, and its like weeks of progress has melted away. they're already on their phone, fingers flying across the screen. they shift back into their masc!form, running a hand through their hair as they stop beside you.
they look down at you, something like pity in their eyes, and it makes you sick.
"look freshie." they sigh, "dont make it a thing, okay? we got caught up, we fucked around to let off some steam, this kinda shit happens all the time. bright and early tomorrow, I'll see you then. dont be fucking late."
you try not to cry as you pack your things - alone in the studio. funny how you thought just thirty minutes ago - that you felt safe with them. now you'd been pricked by the thornes, and fuck, if the wound didn't hurt.
outside, jordan kicks over a trashcan. probably way too aggressively. they run both hands through their hair, and actually debate going back inside. taking it all back. because that had been something raw, and real, and vulnerable. but they dont. not for the first time, they harden their heart towards you, and vow to not get close enough to the flame to let it burn them again.
#ask#IM SORRY I TOOK THIS AND RAN#LMAOOO#my fingers sped away from me#toxic!ballet jordan#jordan li x reader#jordan li smut
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