#but it's so funny cause he would never admit it
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what's your underlying motif?
Gale - the home
whether it’s your warm embrace, your unwavering reliability, your smile that says “welcome back”, your motif is the home. your the equivalent to coming out of the rain to the fire on and your slippers waiting by the door. your uncanny way of making people feel alright, you’re treasured in these trying times. i respectfully request you take care of yourself, the world will never been as kind to you as you are to it. anne lammott said “lighthouses don't go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining” and though unconventional, lighthouses are inhabited and your cup runs over with generosity. because you probably don’t hear it enough, thank you.
Vax - the bread
whether it’s your ability to rise against the odds, provide comfort, or be a staple in lives, your undercurrent is bread. you’re made from love and you carry it your whole life, to give on to others in any way you can. you’re delicate and it doesn’t take a lot to break you, but still you rise up and that is more important than what took you down. be careful with your heart, it’s so full of love that it needs to be treated delicately. you’re a staple in lives, a necessity, but not always as appreciated as you should be. so here is a thanks to you. m.f.k fisher said “ the smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight” and that my friend, that is you.
Tagged by: @sporefound
tagging: whoever would like to do it!
#never knew what patience was til its face stared me down || gale dekarios#some roses will never bloom some dreams will rot on the vine || vax'ildan#//screaming crying throwing up about Gale lmao#Vax is so funny to me he always gets you are full of love ones and like HE IS#but it's so funny cause he would never admit it
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“You shouldn’t be up this late”
Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, was restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.
“Yeah. I know.”
He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.
You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.
“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.
Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.
You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”
All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.
“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”
Part two
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Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3
#boko no hero academia#bakugo x black reader#mha#mha fic#bnha x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#mha headcanons#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#katsuki x y/n#mha katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugou katsuki#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#bakugo x reader fluff#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero acedamia#my hero academia fic#my hero academia fanfic#my hero academia#bakugo fic#bakugo fanfic
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hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey
ty (ily)!! fem!reader
Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read.
“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together.
“I’m not.”
You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs.
“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you.
“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.”
“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.
“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.”
“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.
“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable.
“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks.
“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.”
“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.”
“What? Why would you pay for it?”
“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”
“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?”
Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.”
You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.”
He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.”
“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.”
His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability.
“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft.
Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat.
“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?”
Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.”
“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?”
He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Two to Tango
prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 5.4k+
note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!
warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.
part one:
God's Plan
browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"
You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"
"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"
He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."
"What do you want?"
"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.
You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"
He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"
"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.
"Oh, someone's touchy."
"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."
You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"
"He's falling apart."
"O...Kay?"
"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."
"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.
"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."
"So, he needs his mother?"
Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."
"I'm not laughing."
"He needs you."
"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."
"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."
You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"
"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."
"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.
"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "
"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"
Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."
"Sucks to suck."
"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"
"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."
"How is talking to the man you love - "
"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."
"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."
You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"
He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"
"To say... What?"
"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."
You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.
"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."
"Really?"
"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"
He shrugged, "Maybe..."
"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."
"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."
"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."
"He won't go."
You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."
Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"
"What?"
"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"
"It's not even seven in the morning!"
"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."
You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.
When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.
"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."
"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.
"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.
The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "
"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"
He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.
"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.
"Carmy, we need to talk."
"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.
"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "
"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."
"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."
"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"
"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "
"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."
"Carmy," you sighed patiently.
"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "
"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."
"Nah, I'm okay - "
"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."
"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."
"Calling me desperate?"
"I didn't mean any of it."
"A bitch?"
"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."
You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."
"I don't deserve you."
"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."
"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.
"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."
"I know," he squeezed you tight.
"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.
"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."
"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."
"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."
"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."
"I don't deserve it."
"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."
He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."
"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.
"Move in with me - officially."
Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "
"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."
"Carmy."
He frowned, "I'm sorry."
"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"
He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."
You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."
"I'm fine - "
"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."
He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.
"Exactly why we're going back to yours."
Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"
You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"
You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."
He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.
"Okay?"
"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."
"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"
"I will be."
"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."
"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.
"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."
"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.
"Fair point - just one then - "
He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.
When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."
"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."
He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.
"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.
"We're talking it out."
He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."
"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"
He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"
"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."
Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.
When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.
"Why?" He whispered.
You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."
"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.
"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."
Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."
"It's okay, baby," you whispered.
"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"
"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"
He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.
You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.
"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."
You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.
"Why can't I get out?"
You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.
"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"
"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.
"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."
"Laid to rest."
"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"
"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."
"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."
"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.
When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.
"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."
"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."
He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.
"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.
"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.
"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"
"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"
"I don't want you t'clean after me."
"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"
"I feel better, yeah."
"Good."
"And I made up my mind."
"Hmm? About what?"
"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."
"Think you can handle that?"
He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."
You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."
"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.
True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.
You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.
Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.
You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.
They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.
You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.
Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.
And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
Clingy Baby collection masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto angst#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto hurt and comfort#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto#carmen carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x female!reader
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You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.
Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!
༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?
— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!
— wc: 3136
⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)
masterlist | AO3
As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.
“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.”
You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown.
You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.
“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.
“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”
“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.
“Absolutely not -”
“What? No -”
Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.
“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”
“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.
You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.
His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better.
It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.
Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.
“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her.
“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!”
Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug.
“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.
Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.
“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.
Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.
“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”
Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.
He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted.
Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum?
Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.
Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.
But you were going to.
You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.
The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.
“Spencer?” You asked in surprise.
Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.
The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”
“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.
“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”
Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.
“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.”
“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.
“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”
You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”
“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”
And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.
Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.
“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”
“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”
His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”
When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.
“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear.
His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.
“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?”
The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.
After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.
“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.
He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”
He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.
You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.
“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.
His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.
“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits.
“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.
“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.”
Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.
“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.
“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks.
“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”
“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”
He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.
But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.
“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.”
You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.
He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.
You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.
You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”
Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.
Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.
“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.”
The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.
“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.
“Mphm! More - I need more.”
“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.
“I - I’m gonna cum.”
It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.
Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.
It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.
“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”
“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.
There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment.
“How about ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”
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caught wearing their clothes ?! (argenti, aventurine, sunday)
a/n : isn’t it kinda funny all 3 of them have boss forms? (´-ω-`) we don’t talk abt the way argentis part is the shortest </3
argenti
it was a nice afternoon, perfect for going out with loved ones. though, even with such lovely weather, you felt bored to death waiting for argenti. so naturally, you would search for ways to cure your boredom while waiting for argenti’s return.
that’s how you got yourself in your current situation—getting caught wearing a spare set of argenti’s usual armor as he returned.
“you look absolutely stunning in my outfit, dearest.” his soft voice startled you, causing you to freeze and immediately turn towards him. your face was practically the color of his hair, as you had never meant for him to see you like this.
“a-argenti! back so early?” you let out a nervous laugh, averting your gaze out of the embarrassment you were feeling.
“is something the matter, dearest? why so nervous? afraid I might scold you for wearing my clothes?” your embarrassment and nervousness seems to elicit a hearty chuckle out of him as he takes a few steps closer to you, extending a rose towards you. “if it’s that you’re worried about—then fear not—as I believe your beauty could rival even the goddess idrila no matter what you wear.” argenti smiles as he softly reassured you.
his words only served to make you flush further, his flattering compliments making your heart race faster. “…you really think so?” originally, you were quite worried about what he’d think if he saw you in this state. but with such kind demeanor and reassurance, how could anyone resist having an ego boost?
“of course, there is no need for me to lie to you.” argenti’s smile widens as he decides to insert the rose behind your ear. “though, I do believe the attire I would love seeing you in the most is attire fit for our wedding one day.”
aventurine
this was your lucky moment! aventurine was currently out attending an ipc meeting, which meant you were left all alone. being left alone gave you many opportunities—specifically an opportunity to borrow his spare clothes and have some fun with it.
as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you had to admit you looked nice in aventurine’s usual clothes. you even chose to take a pair of his glasses and one of his hats to fully immerse yourself in the experience! his outfit was quite flamboyant and was definitely flashy, usually catching the attention of many.
wearing his outfit made some mischievous ideas slowly start to come to life as you made the choice of mocking him in his clothes.
“I always win in my gambles, so naturally I’ll bet my entire bank account! i’m just a stupid, careless, mindless gambler—“ suddenly, you were cut off by the sound of the door opening as aventurine stands there in the doorway, arms crossed with an amused smirk on his lips as he leans against the doorframe.
“hmm… so this is how you choose to kill time while i’m away, huh?” aventurine laughs as he approaches you, observing the way you looked in his clothes. “i have to say, you look quite good like this. I’m surprised you’re bold enough to rock a little window like me, though~” he narrows his eyes, glancing at you playfully as his words made your cheeks flush.
“even your little impression of me was fun to witness. but, it says a lot about you as a person, doesn’t it? if I’m a stupid, careless, mindless gambler, then what does that make you for being attracted to me?” aventurine teases, making your jaw drop as you find yourself scrambling for a response.
“don’t get ahead of yourself now. i’m certainly not attracted to you.” you retort, despite the fact that the both of you knew very well that your words were a blatant lie.
“oho? is that how it is? then let’s see just how much you’re ‘not attracted to me’ once I start doing this…” aventurine’s chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he begins to lean closer to your lips, his hand making its way down to your hips.
sunday
you had some time before sunday arrived home, and coincidentally, you spotted spare pairs of sunday’s usual attire as you were searching for something to occupy yourself with.
unfortunately, you weren’t a halovian like sunday. so after you had finished putting on his clothes, you had to find a way to improvise when it came to his wings and halo. messily, you began to draw outlines for his wings and halo on some paper. you then colored them in, planning to cut them out and find a way to use them.
just as you were about to tape the paper wings behind your ears, you heard sunday’s voice as he stepped into the house.
you tried to clean everything up and change, but it was too late. you had already been caught.
“ah? is this what I think it is? is the love of my life trying to impersonate me?” sunday jokes light-heartedly, his pleasant laugh filling your ears as you look away shyly. “you even went so far as to make a fake pair of wings and halo… you’re very dedicated if I do say so myself.” he smiles softly as he takes a few steps closer to you, humming as he admired you.
“this was a dumb idea… you’re still the one that looks the best when wearing these clothes.” you laugh awkwardly, a sheepish look in your eyes as he admires you. his attention being completely directed on you at a moment like this seemed to be the most embarrassing possible timing.
“no need to be so embarrassed about all of this, my love. I don’t mind this at all.” sunday shakes his head, hoping his words will reassure you as he lightly pats your head. “in fact, I’d say you look just about ready to replace me as the head of the oak family.” he lets out an amused chuckle at the idea, his mind already painting an image of you leading the family like he currently did.
“then… what would I be missing?” a sigh of relief escapes you at his reassurance before you decided to reply with a more light-hearted tone.
“firstly, you’ll need to learn the proper etiquette, my love. mm.. but I suspect with someone as capable as you, it won’t be hard teaching you how to replace me.” sunday gazes at you with a look filled with fondness. “but at the end of the day, I like you best when you’re being yourself. so there is no need to delve into topics that involve becoming like me or someone else.”
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Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭
I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.
Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.
He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.
It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.
Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.
Alfred excused himself from the room.
Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.
Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)
That’s literally the title of his presentation.
‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.
‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.
Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.
Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’
Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.
‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.
Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’
‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.
‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.
‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.
Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’
‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.
Dick: pouty baby.
What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!
For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.
He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.
Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.
Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.
Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.
Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.
And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.
The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.
(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)
After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’
Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.
You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’
Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’
You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.
‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’
#dc x y/n#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagines#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader
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Hi gorggg can i request an angst wolfstar fic where reader is kind of insecure of her placement within their relationship? like they’re both so close already and she’s a new addition so she kinda just feels out of place.
thank you for your amazing writing!! doing the world a favor❤️❤️❤️
Hey babes! Thanks SO much for the request 'cause truly, this is my shit. Now, I have to admit that I'm obsessed with these fics that have the same vibe by moonstruckme (poly!marauders) and super-clearlysaltybouquet (poly!wolfstar), so really, they're the blueprints/inspiration for this piece
also...I'm a whore for hurt/comfort. But you asked for ANGST...so I've given you only angst and no comfort. If you want comfort, you'll have to ask for a part two 💖 hope you love it!!!
UPDATE: part two is here.
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: insecurities in relationship, feeling out of place, angst, hurt no comfort
It felt silly, really, to feel as sad as you did. You were currently sitting with two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long - two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and on the outside you were sure this looked like a really lovely moment.
It just didn’t feel very lovely.
You didn’t think your discontentedness stemmed from anything the boys had done in particular, but even seeing the way they instinctively leaned closer to one another when anyone else approached the three of you left you feeling like an outsider looking in.
Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe this was just your insecurities showing.
Or maybe…maybe…the three of you had made a mistake.
Maybe you weren’t cut out for polyamory; it certainly wasn’t for the weak, and it certainly wasn’t easy being the newest addition to the relationship.
You felt lost in most conversations, missing key information that inside jokes, years of friendship, and living together in the same tower - the same dorm room – led to. It felt as though they were fluent in a language you were only starting to pick up, and you didn’t want them to have to slow down for your sake. You didn’t want one of them to have to play the role of translator just for your benefit.
But then, why were you here?
You weren’t calm, relaxed, and witty like Remus. And you weren’t funny, exciting, and energetic like Sirius. They seemed to already balance each other out perfectly; maybe that’s why it felt so easy to fall into the role of a background character in your own relationship.
There was a brief ‘honeymoon’ period to your relationship; a time of public proclamations, handholding and PDA, dates, and spending every moment the three of you could together.
It was exciting.
And then it was less exciting – not to you, never to you - but it seemed to be that way for them.
Suddenly, it was dates and then them returning to their dorm – back home – without you. It was silent conversations with nothing but a look between the two of them that didn’t include you in the slightest. It was professors announcing partner projects, and them pairing together immediately which was fine, you told yourself, because you always partnered with Shelby anyway and that’s the way it had always been before.
Before.
This is the way it had always been before.
So, what were you doing here, exactly? What were you doing sitting on a blanket near the Black Lake with a book in your hand, while Sirius’ hand gripped around your ankle gently as Remus played with Sirius’ hair from where his head was laying in his lap, whilst Sirius and Remus talked about pranks, something funny that James said, and setting Peter up with some Hufflepuff girl?
You could tell you were being insecure… that you were overthinking this. You could tell you were being unreasonable because every so often, Sirius’ hand wouldn’t just be resting around your ankle, but he would squeeze it gently or rub his thumb across your Achilles tendon as if to convince himself that you were still here; still real. And every so often, Remus would move his gaze from where it laid on his own book or away from Sirius whom he was speaking with to look at you… check on you… confirm you were still there; still okay.
They cared. They had to, right? Cared that you were here? They wouldn’t have asked you otherwise, surely. They wouldn’t be making the effort to keep a hand on you, or their eyes on you. Surely, they would never have decided to open their relationship to include you in it.
But there it was…the truth.
It was their relationship. And they’d opened it up for you.
It should be the second part of that sentence that spoke to you the most, but in your mind and insecurities, the second seemed like the whole truth.
This was their relationship.
You shouldn’t be here.
“You still with us, dove?” Remus asked gently, distracting you from your musings. You suddenly realized that your book you were holding had fallen limply into your lap and you were staring unseeingly at the Black Lake. The boys had apparently paused their conversation to look at you, and Sirius’ thumb continued its tender caressing of the soft of your joint.
“Yeah.” You said, but it came out scratchy. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, sorry, I must have zoned out for a second.”
Sirius wiggled your ankle. “Daydreaming again, huh? About us I bet.” He teased with a wink.
You wiggled your ankle back at him as he leaned his head up from Remus’ lap, lips puckered in an ask (a demand) for a kiss.
This may be fleeting, so who were you to deny him?
You leaned forward on one hand, the other still holding your book, and pressed a kiss to the black-haired boy’s lips. He smiled into it and let you go all too willingly as you leaned back and tried to focus on your book.
The air around you began to feel heavy before the sound of distant thunder permeated your hearing.
“Damn, I guess Scottish weather isn’t very reliable, hm?” Remus said as he began packing up his things.
“It’s too bad.” Sirius murmured as he began to stand. “I was having a nice time out here with you two.”
You smiled back at him as he extended a hand to help you up.
“We’re still on for a study date tomorrow after dinner, right?” He asked you when you were at your full height.
“Yeah, sure. If you guys will have me.” You responded shyly, hating that you even hinted at any of your insecurities.
Sirius scoffed in response, but it was Remus who answered. “’Course we do, dove. We’re looking forward to it.”
You felt like you should be a little embarrassed at the way your heart fluttered hopefully at the sentiment, but you focused instead on Sirius’ smile and Remus’ soft eyes as the three of you made your way back to the castle.
You hadn’t seen the boys at all today. You unfortunately slept through your alarm, making you miss breakfast completely; generally, you’d sit with Sirius, Remus, and their friends at the Gryffindor table. The two of them were no shows for lunch, so you opted to sit with Shelby instead. And it was Friday, and on Friday’s you didn’t share any classes with them, meaning by the time you made it to dinner, you’d not seen or heard from them at all.
“Hey James.” You commented as you headed towards James, Lily, and Regulus sitting at the Slytherin table. “Have you seen Rem or Sirius at all today?” Of course, you knew that he had, he lived with them.
James seemed to grimace slightly, but the expression was fleeting before he was smiling at you again.
He knew something you didn’t.
“The last I heard they were talking about your study date tonight.” He offered. You could tell he was putting on an extra show of enthusiasm for your benefit. You tried to be grateful for it, but it left a sour taste in your mouth, nonetheless.
“Okay, thank you.” You said as you turned to head to find a seat with Shelby.
“Oh, Y/N.” Lily called after you. “You’re welcome to sit with us, if you’d like?”
You grinned gratefully at Lily as she smiled kindly at you, even though your heart clenched on account of the clearly pitying offer. Was it as obvious to everyone else as it was to you that you were so out of place with Remus and Sirius? Could they all see it too?
“That’s alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You called as you walked away.
The boys weren’t avoiding you, were they? Surely, they would have said something to you if there was a problem.
Although, perhaps they wouldn’t, seeing as you had clearly been spiraling for some time now and have yet to discuss it with them.
Would they even meet you in the library later? Certainly, they would have said if something came up…if you needed to reschedule.
No.
You were obviously being silly. You hadn’t seen them all day, but they hadn’t seen you either – it was just a coincidence. You were fine.
Except you weren’t fine. Because it was about seven minutes after the time you had agreed to meet them before the boys joined you in the library. Remus offered you a hasty “sorry we’re late, dove” and a squeeze of your shoulder before taking a place at the table across from you, and Sirius pecked a quick kiss into your hair and sat beside you without saying a word.
It was painfully awkward. You’d asked them how their days were – Remus answered for the both of them before he asked you how yours was in turn.
After two more (failed) attempts on your part to make conversation, the rest of the study session was spent in silence. And not a comfortable silence.
It was the kind of silence that had you checking your surroundings every so often. The kind of silence that made you feel as if bugs were crawling over your skin.
Every time you looked across at Remus, he seemed to be shooting concerned glances over at Sirius. Every time you looked in your periphery at Sirius, you could see he was zoned out, eyes rimmed and red like he’d been crying or angrily rubbing at them.
If something was wrong, they would have told you – right?
If they were regretting being with you, they wouldn’t have shown - right?
If they were going to break up with you, they wouldn’t do it in the library of all places.
Right?
Your musings were interrupted when Sirius let out a sharp breath and closed his book unceremoniously.
“Sorry guys, I’m not feeling the best. I think I’m going to pack it up.”
Remus immediately perked up, looking like he was ready to pack up too. “Okay, do you want company?”
Do you want me to come with you?
“No, that’s alright. Don’t let me impede your studying. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?”
I’ll talk to you more in our dorm room when we’re alone, Remus.
“Sorry, sweets. I’ll make it up to you.” He said as he hugged you from behind and kissed your neck.
“Okay, I hope you feel better.” You offered as you awkwardly pat his arms. He gave you a half-hearted smile before quickly exiting the library.
Once his figure disappeared from your vision, you turned back to see Remus still looking towards the way Sirius just left; he was still poised as if he was ready to pack up and go after him.
You suddenly felt guilty…because if you weren’t here, he would be going… He’d be going after his boyfriend and comforting him through…whatever he’s going through.
So now, here you were keeping Remus from where he really wanted to be, and Sirius from having the support that he needs…that he deserves.
My gods, you’ve made such a terrible mistake. How did the three of you not notice?
“Sorry about that, love.” Remus mentioned quietly, offering you a half smile. “He…he got a letter from his family today. He doesn’t really talk about it with people.”
He talked about it with you, though.
“It usually takes him a day or two to sort it out before he comes back to us.”
You mean back to you, James, and Peter…
“I’ll talk to him.”
When you leave me…to go to him.
You hated even feeling petulant about it. One of the things you loved about these boys was how much they loved each other. The trust, the affection, the care…you had just hoped that somehow, you’d get to enjoy those things too.
You offered him the best smile you could muster as you turned back towards your book. You could no longer make the words out as your vision blurred, tears threatening to spill out over the arithmancy calculations spread below you.
You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to Remus, not to Sirius…and certainly not to yourself. You deserved better, all three of you did.
You were being selfish, inserting yourself into their relationship like this; demanding things from them that they didn’t owe you.
“You know what,” you offered quietly, clearing your throat as your voice came out scratchy, grating along the lump lodged in your throat. “I think I’ve gotten enough studying done for tonight.”
You stood and started piling your things together.
“Oh…are, are you sure?” Remus asked like he was willing to argue, but he too was standing and starting to pack his bag – eager to get to his dorm and check on Sirius.
“Yeah, I did some work on it at dinner as well.”
Remus grimaced slightly at that.
“I’m sorry dove, really. The three of us clearly haven’t had a great day. I’ll talk to Sirius, and I promise we’ll all be back in sync in no time.”
You looked into his eyes and saw sincerity.
Back in sync.
Were we ever in sync to begin with?
“Can I walk you to your dorm?” He asked as he made to move around the table, but he paused at you quickly shaking your head.
“No, no I’m alright. I can find my way.” You tried to joke, but it fell flat.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. No, don’t worry about it just – uhm – just make sure he’s okay for me, yeah?” You asked as you walked backwards to the door. Remus must’ve picked up something in your tone, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down.
“I really am sorry, Y/N. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
You quickly wiped away a stray tear that found its way out of your water line and gave him the biggest smile you could muster.
This was better, you thought, let everyone out of their misery.
“’Course. I’ll, uhm, I’ll see you around, Lupin.”
And you left.
#ask elle#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x you#wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly wolfstar#angst#ellecdc fics
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thinkin abt eating bbf!ellie out while she’s gaming and on a call with reader’s brother ☺️
she would have to keep muting her headset every 30 seconds bc she couldn’t keep quiet and eventually would just toss her controller on the floor and end the call so she could fuck reader stupid while reader’s brother is spamming her w texts asking where she went 😭
-🪷
ok u got me with this… 💗🪷
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
ʚɞ it was purely innocent at first, you swore to god it was. what’s so wrong about sitting on your girlf— well, that isnt quite right. on your frien— god, thats not exactly it either. on your… brother’s best friends (that’s better) lap while she’s playing a video game? she let you in, in fact, she signaled you to come closer with a small pat on her thigh before you did. “m’not a dog…” you scoffed, pouting before rolling your eyes, desperately trying to hide the fact that even that mere, simple gesture made it feel funny in your stomach. “no, but you’re my—“ she stopped, and grazed the corner of her mouth with her tongue. “just come warm me up”
ʚɞ that was her excuse for everything. wanted to hold your hand after splitting you raw? it’s just to warm her up. move closer while her arm is loosely placed on your chest while “hugging” you from behind while laying on the bed? come warm her up. she’d never admit she just yearned to feel you close, craved to touch you at any given moment, as if you’d slip away if she didn’t.
ʚɞ she was wearing her headset, and a couple of baby hairs frizzled up on the top of her head. both hands on the controller, wrapped tightly around your waist, continuously yelling at someone you guessed was a complete stranger she was playing with. “who are you talking to?” you questioned, trying to stop yourself from grinning at how cute she looked with her tongue poking out of her mouth when she was hyperfocused on the screen. “shh…” she sushed, slightly blowing out her eyes. “your brother”
“he can hear me?!” fuck. that came out way too loud. she abruptly placed her left palm on your lips, to shut you up. “just a sec, man” she spoke into the mic. “you cant make any noise” she whispered, and when you winced, she smirked. “just watch, and keep quiet”
ʚɞ being quiet, was not exactly your forte. especially not when you were supposed to (it was as if someone placed a red button with a huge sign of “do not press!”— you have to press.) and especially, while you were sat on ellie’s lap, and she kept sniffling and huffing and cursing those little “fuck” and “shit” under her breath and the air she blew, caressed your neck and made you shiver and… her hand, on that damn controller, her fingers circling the silicone ball, her thumb, to be more specific, and it’s a little fucking distracting— how she happens to bounce her leg, making you bounce up and down with it’s movement, every time she's upset someone had killed her in the game, and how when she wins a round, she lays herself back on the chair, spreads her legs and cockily murmurs into the mic “fucking got you, asshole”
ʚɞ did she know what she was doing, as she slapped your thigh when she won the 3rd round in a row? did she know that when she bounced you up and down, your tummy flipped and your eyes rolled back? even if she did know, what you did next was so not fair to her.
ʚɞ you pressed your ass deep inside her lap, making the fat squish down on her thigh, and she cleared her throat, and chuckled. clearly, it did something to her, her throat feeling suddenly dry, but she didn’t want you to know. you stopped, and she readjusted herself, straightening her back. “i’m out of fuc…ing ammo” and with that, you pressed your ass down even deeper into ellie’s lap, cause her face to twitch in the slightest. “give me some fuc—“ now, you purely rocked your ass back and forth on her crotch, staring at the screen, attempting to appear as aloof as you could. it made her stretch her head back, and huff out a small, shaky breath. she placed her hand on your thigh, and squeezed hard. it wasn’t a nice, thoughtful gesture, it was a sign to stop fucking moving, you��ve been warned. she was on a winning streak and you were about to ruin it.
ʚɞ your shorts were truly way too short, bordering on underwear, the material was truly too thin, and she could feel every inch of you through her sweats. your thighs, your feet rocking back and forth and kicking her on purpose, and your ass who grew to be the biggest distraction of all— “just a sec dude, im pausing just… taking a water break”
she was going to lose, and she knew it.
she took the headset off, and placed it, no— threw it on the table. “what are you doing?” she murmured in a low, raspy voice. you managed to catch your breath, and attempted to sound as angelic and innocent as you possibly could. “nothing…?” you quipped, and smiled softly. ellie slightly nodded her head up and down. “keep doing nothing, see where that gets you”
“not doing anything, swear” and the way you put your hand on your chest, right where your heart is, and then palmed it to give it the smallest, gentlest squeeze… “jesus fucking christ” she huffed, and stared down. she wasn’t going to get out of this, and she certainly wasn't going to win.
ʚɞ she spread her thighs wider, with you sat directly on her thigh, and put her headset back on. two can play this game. she didn’t want your brother to know about you two, and you didn’t want him to know even more. you moved yourself to sit right on her center, right where her crotch is, and the wheeze that came out of her mouth— “fffuck”
“you good, ellie?” that was your brother’s voice popping out of her headset. you were that close to her face. your cheek pressed up on her’s, and you moaned inside her ear, a small “aaah, ellie” and you knew that would get her, because nothing made her wetter than those damn moans, and when you added her name in the mix—she cleared her throat, and if you saw the way her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyelids simply resting shut because she had to physically restrain herself, you’d have probably started whining and begging. “m’good, yeah—keep going” was she talking to you, or to him? you made up your mind. she was talking to you.
ʚɞ you grinded youself back and forth again and again, and you knew you rubbed her right where she needed you. you pressed down hard, and it hit right on her clit. “god” she huffed, her breaths growing shaky and uneven. she bumped her crotch into your ass and it made you squeal like a chew toy. “sh— shut up” she groaned, and hastily placed her palm on your mouth again. “shut the fuck up bro”. it was truly disgusting, how turned on you were by grinding yourself up against her, letting her clothed crotch hump your ass. ellie, desperately dug her palm extra hard on the controller, as she felt a glob of slick leaking out of her cunt, because she knew that if she let it go, her hand would immediately drop down to your pussy, and start fucking you raw on the chair.
ʚɞ the wet, sticky patch in your underwear grew bigger and bigger every time you bounced, circling your ass in fast, needy movements on her crotch as if you were trying to win a race. ellie's mind left the game already, completely blind to what was happening on the screen, but kept on pretending. it was funny to her, truly, how pathetic you looked. your movements growing messy, sweat sticking down your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth, and she almost let you use her body to cum, and you swore you almost did. your small chocked out breaths were growing heavier and needier, and you huffed small whispers of her name in broken little sentences. “mmhm el-lie” she smirked, and placed her hand up on the small mic to block the obscenity that was about to escape her lips; "about to cum in those little fucking panties? hm? you’re so fucking slutty”
ʚɞ and thats exactly when you stopped, and peeled your shaky body off of her. she seemed confused for a second, because god she was loving it, the way you tried to get her flustered and turned out a needy, flustered, moaning mess yourself. she didn’t even need to do anything, just purely exist, for you to nearly cum inside your shorts. her lips curled into to a small, teasing smile. “what are you doing?” she mouthed. you got down on your knees, placing yourself directly in front of her crotch. ellie hovered over you in a manspread, and you put your chin right on the chair. “nothing” you mouthed back, and gave her a small pout. she huffed, as her game character stood idly on the ground, a black rifle in her hand, and your brother paced nearer and nearer. you placed your hands on her thighs, and batted your eyelashes.
she sighed, and gazed at you with a prying look.
“you’re gonna fucking kill me”
“hell fucking yes i am” your brother exclaimed, muffled in her headset.
ʚɞ you didn’t even peel the grey sweats out of her body, you straight up yanked them down. what you saw… didn’t disappoint you in the slightest. a wet spot, perhaps even bigger than yours, making her black boxers take even a darker shade of black. you let out a shaky “oh my… god”, as she slid off of the chair, her eyes rolling back. “m’playing… just keep fucking going i’m playing” again, she wasn’t talking to you, or was she?
she looked at you again, warning you. you blinked slowly, trying to tease her as much as you could. ellie's eyes squinted, and she hesitated for a moment. she brought her hand down and caressed the top of your head. although she was gentle, you could tell how crazy you were driving her. she bucked her hips forward, and mouthed; “lick”
ʚɞ firstly, you gave a small lick to the soft fabric, and felt her tangy sweet taste just merely grazing your pink muscle. then, she aggressively patted her hand on the top of your head, again, and made you look up at her. her eyes turned a darker shade of emerald green, and she looked angry. “dont play with me” she mouthed, and squeezed your cheeks together. she gave the right one a small pat, and then a stinging little slap, making you yelp. she was in control, and she was going to use you.
ʚɞ she placed the controller on your fucking head, and pushed her soaking boxers down, to lay loosely wrapped aound her ankles. ellie pushed your face forward to meet her weeping core, and you immediately stuck your tongue out, to gift a delicate, slow lick to her glistening, peachy pink folds. you pushed it inside of her hole, and she clenched right on it. she gripped the controller harder, and looked absolutely gone. no matter how hard she pushed your head, you didn’t dare to ever meet her clit, the brat that you are, because you thought it was so much more fun to watch her suffer. “mmfuck” she groaned, “fuck— y-you man” and the way she whimpered right into the mic; “m’good dude just— fuck just my arm hurts” and looked downwards to give you a look that was purely warning you— keep on playing with her like that and she’d fucking make it hurt.
ʚɞ it was torturous, and she really got truly delirious, the way in which you licked around her cunt, stopping your movements to plant a simple, delicate little kiss on her thigh, just to hear her respond with a throaty groan, look down at you with her bangs sticking to her forehead, hand shaking around the black controller, biting her lip hard— because if she didn't, she would have moaned so loud she'd get kicked out of your family's home for fucking with your brother's precious sister. she shook her thigh to get you off of it, and it signaled to stop fucking teasing. "I can'— fuck— man fuck, im gonna fucking— lose the fucking game" she stutters, sounding like a complete idiot, biting her fist hard and twisting her face, her jaw clenched so tight because if he hears her, he's gonna think she's either about to pass completely out, or think she's in heat— and the fact that you won't, absolutely refuse to give her needy clit any attention, and the way you look so concentrated on torturing her, keeping your eyes fixated on her’s, acting all brave because you know she cant talk, and cant do anything because she’s fucking “busy” oh, you pissed her off— your mouth stuffed with her cunt, looking up to her as if you're not trying to kill her;
nope. she can't do this anymore.
she grabbed the back of your neck forcefully, and pulled yourself off of her. you pout, and then you're slightly terrified, because the controller just met the floor with a loud thud.
"i'll be back in 5 minutes" she breathlessly talks into the mic.
“swear— five fucking minutes, gimme five”
ʚɞ you both stare at each other for a moment, as if you're communicating with just looks, and she lifts herself off of the chair and you pounce back, but she's quicker than you.
you dont know how you find yourself pushed against the mattress, with her hand around your throat. she's not pressing, it's just wrapped around it, and she's angry.
"you fucking..." you look to the side, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. the wall, apparently, has a lot to say.
"look at me" she whispers, and forces you to turn your head around and face her. freckles splattered all over her face, you try and concentrate on them but she's chasing your eyes.
ʚɞ she's too quick, it's all too fucking quick and you whine so loud, your back arching off of the bed and she presses you down, shoves her hand inside of your panties and chuckles; "you're a fucking... you're so fucking..." she’s breathless, and famished, because she doesn't even finish that sentence before her lips are on yours, hips jerking forward, as soon as she feels the puddle, or the sea, that's right inside your panties.
"fucking tease"
ʚɞ you swear you’re vibrating on her hand. “pl—ease” you plead, your voice whiney and quiet because all of a sudden, ellie has the upper arm, and you, poor you— can’t tease her anymore. “please what?” she coos. “please ellie…” and she cups your tits, both of them, and squeezes them together so tight it makes you leak down your thigh.
“s’not good enough” she tsk’s, bringing her forehead to meet yours. she merely hovers over your clit, and it’s that friction you were looking for so hard and—
her phone buzzes.
“where the fuck are you?”
“?”
“????”
“hello?”
she places the phone screen in front of you, pinches your chin with her index finger and her thumb, makes sure you actually look, and types;
“i’m fucking your sister, brb”
your breath hitches, and she chuckles, deeply and mockingly, like shes making fun of you.
“should i press send?” she teases.
“no…” you stutter, and yet again, attempt to wear the purest, most angelic and divine expression on your face. “oh… no?” she mocks, plunging a finger inside of you deep, cooing at how you gasp silently, imitating your gasp right back to you.
“nonono” you blabber incoherently, and she’s not even moving her finger, just letting you warm it inside.
“s’too bad…”
and with that, she presses “send.”
a moment passes.
“not funny dude”
oh, he didn’t buy it.
#ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🪷 anon#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams x female reader#ellie smut#bbf!ellie
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Mattheo Headcannons
Just a few headcannons for this pretty boy :)
- He comes off as mean at first but once you get to know him he’s literally so sweet
- Mattheo would in my mind be a bit of a bookworm but never tell anyone about it
- Would never let you pay for anything, and if you did he’d be sending you more money than you spent to make up for it
- “Yes ma’am” kind of guy
- Always touching you. Either holding your hand, thigh, or waist this man always need to being feeling you
- He has a small leather journal for all his doodles during class.
- Knows more about your body language than even you do and will use it to his full advantage
- Hugs from you are one of his favourite things
- Lots and lots of forehead kisses
- I feel like he’d be pretty stubborn in arguments but if he sees you really starting to get upset he’ll drop it and work things out
- Protective>>>
- You basically have your own guard dog
- Refuses to let you smoke. And he would definitely do it less when you are together
- Loves sleeping together, and will always drag you to sleep in his dorm so you guys can cuddle
- Not a morning person though and will drag you back to bed if you try to leave
- The guy sees everything!!! Like even when you don’t know he’s there he’s casually listening and noting everything
- Always wants to reassure you so that you aren’t overthinking all the time
- His jealousy is through the roof but if you get mad at him he’ll try to tone it down (it doesn’t work)
- He’s literally always warm no matter what. Especially his hands
- He’ll make you flustered in public cause he thinks it’s funny and likes to tease you
- Very clingy but will never admit it
- Smarter than he looks and would totally be a history nerd
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On Set Shenanigans || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
GIFS by me :) cred if use!!
Summary: just a bunch of random scenarios on set I thought of while I was in the shower lmao 🤣
Warnings: noneee
Wc: 1,553
A/n: sorta all over the place sorry lmao
Divider by @pommecita
“If you could describe Y/n and Tom in one word, what would you say?” Rachel purses her lips, side eyeing the two of you who were watching her with silly grins. “Y/n and Tom are,” Rachel hums, tapping her chin as she breaks out into a chuckle.
“Goofy.” You and Tom turn to each other and just break into laughter. “They are seriously the most goofiest people I have met in my entire life! There is never a dull moment on set when these two around,” Rachel shakes her head as she smiles at the two of you who blow kisses her way.
“Tom and Y/n, there’s a behind the scenes video circulating around of the two of you in costume, dancing to Low by Flo Rida,” “Oh my god,” You drop your head on Tom’s shoulder as the two of you couldn’t help wipe the grin off your faces.
“Yes, there is,” Tom laughs as they put up said video. “If you guys haven’t see it, here it is,” Dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, white singlet with his dog tag out, and you in your outfit, you and Tom were dancing along to your favourite song to dance to, Low by Flo Rida.
Rachel was recording the video during your break and was dying of laughter. The camera was shaking the entire time because of it. You and Tom loved goofing around and dancing.
You could say it was your love language. You grab Tom’s peacekeeper hat and plop out on your head slightly wonky as you move along to the song, acting as if you were at a club in Berlin and not on set. The way you and Tom danced and moved to the music just made so much sense.
“She turned around and gave that big booty a smack,” Tom spun around as you slap his ass causing an eruption of laughter from everyone who was watching.
You and Tom were trying to hold your composure but that failed miserably as you grab Tom’s arms to stabilise yourself but turned out he had no sense of stability at that moment as the two of you fall to the ground. A light scream leaving your lips as you fall on top of Tom.
And then the camera focused on the ground as Rachel had leaned over, hands on thighs as she laughed out loud. If anyone didn’t know the context of that clip, they probably would have thought that you two were drunk but truth was you were quite sober.
The crowd on set burst out into laughter as you cover your face in slight embarrassment, Tom laughing along with the host as he pats your head.
~
“What do you usually do when you’re not filming on set?” Tom gives you a look as you bite back a laugh. “I think everyone knows this but, film tiktoks” The crowd breaks into laughter as they knew what you were talking about.
“Yeah Y/n is always filming tiktok and forcing me to do them with her,” Tom grips your thigh, shaking it lightly as you roll your eyes. “No I do not, you always want to be in them!” You argue with him. “Why don’t we watch a few of them here?” Kelly Clarkson recommended as you squeeze Tom’s arm with a smile.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CQrdGn8AYiD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The first tiktok was of you, Tom, Rachel, and Josh in your trailer. You had the idea in your head for a while now and showed them all. “Please don’t drop me babe,” You say to Tom as you set up the camera, “I would never,” You hear him say followed by giggle.
You expected to land in Tom’s arms. Not the floor. You let out a yelp as Tom slaps his hand over his mouth. The three of them laughing their asses off while you landed on yours with a loud thud. “It’s not funny you idiot,” You slap his arm as he picks you up, apologising to you by peppering your face with kisses.
You had to admit it was pretty funny rewatching the tiktok. “You weren’t supposed to catch my feet!” You say in between laughs as you post the tiktok.
~
“This one, captioned name a better duo, I’ll wait has gone quite viral with over 10 million views,” Kelly exclaims as you cross your legs at your knees nodding your head as the video plays on the screen. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNVsM6kw/
“Tom,” You tap your boyfriend’s shoulder as he hums. You had just finished filming a scene together and had abit of time before you were up again. You were both in your mentor outfits, Tom having his blonde locks today.
“I wanna film this tiktok, come be in it?” You urge him as he looks up from his phone seeing a glint of playfulness in your eyes as he lets out a sigh.
Tom secretly loved making tiktoks with you, especially since he wasn’t on it and found the stuff you make him do were interesting and funny. You had hundreds of random tiktoks that you filmed on set saved into your drafts, half of them were of you and Tom.
Your hair stylist helped film the tiktok as the two of you did it out in the open, a bunch of the filming team watching with curiosity and laughing as they walk by. Other cast members such as Josh, Hunter and a bunch of the mentor actors walked by ended up being in the background of it.
You and Tom moved along to the beat, literally just vibing to the music. You wrote on the tiktok “the funniest duo on set>>>” and you weren’t lying.
~
“We are here with the cast of the Hunger Games Prequel, the ballad of songbirds and snakes!” The crowd cheered as you, Tom, Josh, and Rachel smiles. “From what I’ve seen, you guys are actually TikTok sensations!” An eruption of laughter followed.
“This TikTok here specifically,” https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqguTEY/ you all turn your head to watch the TikTok play on screen as you all start to laugh. “Tom, where were you while this was happening,” The host looks at Tom whose eyes were trained on the ground, a grin forming on his lips.
“I’m actually there in the tiktok, on the bed. Trying to sleep.” He deadpans as you giggle, leaning your head on his shoulder as you grip his arm. “Yeah this was after we came back from partying in Berlin, obviously for some of us, our night didn’t end yet,” Tom chuckles as everyone bursts out in laughter.
“Let’s do that tiktok!” You squeal the second you enter the room. Opening up tiktok, you find the video and show Josh, Hunter, Rachel, and Tom it. Tom’s arms were thrown around your shoulders, his head resting on your head due to the height difference.
“I think I’m going to go to bed,” He yawns, kissing your cheek before you all bid him goodnight. Tom couldn’t even get 5 minutes of peacefulness as the four of you spill into the bedroom and set up your phone. He lets out a quiet groan at the noise and flashing of lights as he digs his head deep into his pillow.
~
“Babeee,” You call out as you step into the hair and makeup trailer. He was sitting on a chair, fully dressed in his peacekeeper outfit, hair free from his wig.
He looked more presentable compared to you and Rachel who still had hair rollers on and were still in your robes. You had seen a new trend going around tiktok where you would stare at a guy with Justin Timberlake’s mirrors playing in the background, and you wanted to do it with Tom https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNqnRSNJ/
One side of his lips turns up as he looks up at you, “I’m filming a tiktok and I want you to be in it,” You say with puppy eyes although you know he wouldn’t refuse. You even got his hair and makeup artists, Stacey and Jade to be in on it too.
You pull up a chair beside Tom as you set up the camera. “Wait what am I supposed to do?” He asks, “Nothing, just sit there,” You innocently smile at him as he gives you a suspicious look but nods nonetheless, complying with whatever you were up to.
He honestly just expected to be on camera while you were doing something, but he did not expect to be stared down at by his girlfriend and hair and makeup artists. You stare intensely at Tom, trying your hardest to not laugh or look away.
Staring at your boyfriend has always not been an easy task, especially since he holds such intense eye contact. And his pretty blue eyes did not help at all. Tom tries not to laugh either as he gazes at you before his eyes flicker towards Stacey and Jade then back to you. “What’s going on,” He finally says as his body shakes from laughing.
The TikTok ends and you let out a small laugh, looking over the TikTok. You throw your head back in laughter at Tom’s face when you all look back to stare at him, honestly was priceless.
#tom blyth#fanfiction#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x actress!reader#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes#rachel zegler#josh andres rivera#hunter schafer#boyfriend!tom blyth#actress au#Spotify
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back with another chubby girl x ur fave post!!! hope y’all enjoy! this is a black reader x whoever post, but anyone can enjoy! catered to my fellow chubby girlz cause we rule the world <3
toji likes chubby girls. idc idc argue wit ya mama!
he always loved the idea of being able to surprise his pretty lil gf by picking her up like she weighs nothing and fuckin her anywhere he sees fit. <3
has 100% posted something along the lines of “i like bitches wit stomachs!! pussy always good and she soft!!” he def blew up on the net that day :/
but! needless to say, you came into his life shortly after.
you were a bit weary stumbling across him that sunny afternoon. seeing that fine ass 6’2, 280 pound man, completely covered in tattoos during your downtown walk was not in your cards for the day.
i mean, he looked scary as shit walking down the side walk. dressed in a short sleeved black compression shirt and black sweats, he seriously looked like he was getting ready to beat up the next person he saw. then the scar on his lip didn’t make him any more approachable looking.
you literally thanked your lucky star that you would enter your favorite coffee shop before having to walk past him. so imagine your surprise when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder while standing in line and seeing this same man give you the cutest smile.
he eventually convinced you to let him take you out later that night, and you’ve never looked back!
he constantly tells you “we don’t needa bed baby, i can hold you up jus fine”, with a devious look on his face. he thinks it’s funny when you get that surprised look when he fucks you standing up. he wouldn’t dare let his pretty baby sit on a dirty club sink, so, what better way to prevent that then by holding you!!
you absolutely love it. you’ve finally found a man that loves your weight and couldn’t care shit else about it. sure, toji works out like 6 times a week and is absolutely ripped, but he’d never make you work out unless you wanted to. and even then he’s questioning you, “why the fuck you wanna do that? you’re perfect the way you are, lil girl”. you just roll your eyes and rise up off the couch, but not before toji gives that ass a nice, hefty smack. of course you look at him like he’s crazy, but he just goes back to scrolling on his phone while biting back a laugh.
all of his friends don’t rlly get it, but he doesn’t give a fuck. seeing your pretty face and chubby cheeks makes him wanna giggle like a school girl, though, he’ll never admit it.
he’s also 100% the type to grab your rolls/stomach while laying in the bed. you look at him crazy every time and all he does is smile and give you a fat, wet kiss. “stop lookin at me ‘fore i put a baby in you”. suddenly ur eyes are wide open
ugh, toji just luvs the big gworls! :p
#toji smut#toji x chubby reader#toji x y/n#toji thirst#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji headcanons#i wish he was real :(#toji x black y/n#toji x black reader
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Positive Reinforcement
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged
Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.
Words | 6.2k
Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol
Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.
Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.
But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?
Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.
But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.
“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.
The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.
A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.
“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”
You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.
“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”
“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”
This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?
“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.
“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”
Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.
Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?
"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.
"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"
His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.
"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"No. Because I know what you'll choose."
"Then I'm not doing it."
Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.
"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.
"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.
Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”
Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?
“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.
“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”
The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.
Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.
“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”
“But I need to. You don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.
“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”
“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.
“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.
“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”
Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”
The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.
“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.
“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”
“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.
“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”
“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.
“I mean it.”
He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.
“Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.
“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.
Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.
“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.
“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.
Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.
You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.
“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.
“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.
“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.
“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”
You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.
After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.
“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”
You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.
“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”
You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.
Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.
“You okay?”
“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.
“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.
Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.
“What?”
“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.
“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”
He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.
“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”
It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.
“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”
“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.
“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.
“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.
You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.
His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.
“Jonathan…”
For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.
“Fuck – “
“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.
Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.
Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.
“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”
Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.
Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”
You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.
Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.
You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.
“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“C… can you – “
“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”
You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.
“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”
Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”
You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.
“There we go… stretched open so well.”
You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.
Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.
"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.
"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."
Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.
"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"
You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.
His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.
"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."
You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.
The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.
“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.
“N… no…” you whine
“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”
“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.
“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”
“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “
“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”
And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.
“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.
For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.
“I love you…”
“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.
“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”
#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane x y/n#smut#.moth writes
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Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did.
He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#bullet train tangerine#tangerine imagine#tangerine oneshot#tangerine x you#tangerine x reader#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine x f!reader#tangerine x female!reader#bullet train#bullet train movie#bullet train 2022#tangerine atj#atj tangerine#atj#atj character
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ride cowgirl
you take control in bed and anakin can't handle himself (18+, smut)
"you want to what?" anakin asked, not really paying attention to your words, his eyes still glued to his book. "i-i want to take control in bed ani" you said, raising your voice from a barely audible whisper to a slightly louder tone.
he doesn't even turn to you at your claim, chuckling softly "that's real funny bug" you huffed, he wasn't taking you seriously at all. you moved quickly so that you were sitting between his legs that were spread out on the bed, staring at him as he didn't even move to look at you.
you wrapped your fingers around the top of his book, pulling it back softly so he had to look up at you. anakin seems to pay attention to you now, watching you with a bored expression. "im being serious ani, i think id be good at it" you stated as he brought his hand up to your head and tuck a piece of loose hair behind your ear. "good at what baby?"
you rolled your eyes at his question, does he ever listen?
"good at being in charge, you know, all bossy and controlling." you pouted as he raised his eyebrows suggestively "i am not bossy and controlling" anakin answered, clearly not believing the words coming out of his own mouth as he played with the hem of your sundress.
you narrowed your eyes at his claim, causing him to sigh. "please ani, please, please, please. I promise ill do good!" once you see him roll his eyes and sigh, you know you've cracked him.
and that's how you ended up straddling his toned shirtless waist, only clad in your panties as you peppered kisses softly down his chest. he stared at you as you got to his v line, his cock standing tall and oozing with pre-cum.
"you ready ani? remember your safe word alright?" he tried to mask his chuckle at your statement, ticking his jaw to the side. "yes baby, i remember the safe word, think i'm gonna have to use it?"
you shrugged at him, extremely distracted by his massive cock merely inches from your face. you placed a small kiss to the base, leaning your head on his inner thigh as you pumped him up and down slowly.
you heard him inhale sharply, restraining himself from grabbing your head and shoving your throat all the way down his cock until you gag. he watched the thoughts spin in your head as you left one last kiss on the tip of his dick, shifting around so your entrance was now in line with his cock.
he groaned as he entered you, your walls so impossibly tight around him. you lowered down slowly on him, squeezing your eyes shut at how fucking massive he is. you had to brace yourself with your hands on his chest as he bottomed out inside of you, hitting places that made you whine. you lifted your hips up slightly, you knew that neither of you could handle him that deep inside without cumming in two seconds, though he would never admit it.
you looked at anakin with impatience, waiting for the feeling of his death grip on your sides as he helped you ride him, but it never came "ani, what're doing?" you asked, feeling impossibly full and needing to move. "what do you mean princess? you're moving us. you're in charge."
"o-oh, right." you squeaked, taking a second to breathe and ground yourself before slightly lifting your hips up and slamming back down. you never thought it would be so hard to ride ani without his hands guiding your body and lifting more than half of your weight above him, but then again, you had never thought you were ever going to be in control.
your thighs burned as you lifted yourself up for the third time, refusing to look at anakin's smirking face at your restlessness. you nearly felt bad for anakin in the moment, you didn't even realize how much hard work went into being in charge.
you don't have nearly as much stamina as anakin does, and it showed through your now shaky thighs and unstable strokes of your hips. "goin' a bit slow baby, are we getting tired already?" you didn't even have to look at him to see the cocky smile on his face. not ready to admit to him that you were wrong, an idea popped in your head.
you felt him twitch inside of you as you sat balls deep on his cock, rocking forward so there was no part of his dick that wasn't buried in you. he snapped his head your way, parting his lips softly and taking a deep breath. you didn't move for what felt like hours, which in reality was only a few seconds, your walls squeezing him nearly out of you.
"oh so you want to play dirty bunny?" he asked, moving his hands quickly to your ass and landing a sharp smack to your skin before kneading the area. "i don't know what your talking about ani." you stated, trying not to show how close you were to moving so you didn't explode from pleasure.
"god, you're such a fucking brat" he spat, taking your wrist in his hand and twisting your arm so it was behind your back, pushing your body so you were now laying on his chest. you let out a moan as he started slamming into you at a ruthless pace, his strokes deep and uncontrolled.
"is this what you wanted angel? for me to lose my fucking mind?" he asked, knowing in your mushy state that you couldn't give him an answer that wasn't unintelligible babbles or moans. he took his free hand and grabbed your chin, lifting your head up so you had to look at his face as he fucks you.
he watched you flutter your eyes shut, biting your lip and going limp in his arms. he knew that face. you were about to cum, and hard. "come on baby, give it to me. you got it, i got you" he chanted, his strokes turning sloppy as he was nearly at his breaking point.
"atta girl, that's my pretty girl" he sighed as you came around him, falling into his body as you felt his load empty out into you. "a-ani" you whimpered, coming down from your immense high as you both made no move to let his dick slip out of you. "yeah baby?" he answered, wiping your hair away from your face softly.
"i love you" you spoke. he smiled down at you, god you were just so sweet, especially after he just destroyed you on his cock. "I love you too princess. did so good for me, always do" letting out a content sight as he kissed the crown of your head, you heard his voice again.
"hey baby?" he asked, running his hands up and down your back with a soft touch. you hummed at his question, inviting him to speak.
"never ask to be in fucking charge again, or you won't like what will happen next."
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker#star wars imagine#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker imagine
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DUUUDE OMG as someone who had a HUGE creepypasta phase I'm obsessed with your hazbin hotel x creepypasta reader fics omggg
Anywaysss could I possibly request a Hazbin Hotel x Sally Williams reader? Completely platonic obviously :)
HAZBIN HOTEL X SALLY WILLIAMS! READER
prompt: a small child with a bloody body accidentally visits the hotel of a cartoon she only saw once
“BENNN! I wanna be in a cartoon..” you says whining to Ben as you grip your teddy bear. Ben rubs his chin thinking then smirks. “What kinda cartoon?” “One with friendship! Like My little pony.” You said with an adorable smile. “What about a better cartoon…” Ben said with a evil smile
And now you are now in the cartoon called Hazbin hotel as you just stood there sobbing at not seeing ponies. Where’s fluttershy? Where rarity? AND WHERE THE HELL IS TWILIGHT SPARKLE.
You must have caused a bad scene as Alastor had took your hand and brought you to the hotel for shelter. You told the “nice” man your friend made you come here making Alastor think you got killed by someone. But what’s a child like you doing here?…..
When the whole crew met you, they found you adorable but they were concerned on why a child, most likely a “human” child like you is in hell.
You have a room next to the next lesbian couple. After they cleaned you and having you wear shoes..which didn’t go well so they let you wear a new pair of white socks as you wore a cute pink dress.
Vaggie felt something about you was off. But she felt like heaven had not let you in. So she didn’t press any farther.
Angel gives you fat nuggets because he trusts you to look after him as he works. He never told you what he does for work but you enjoy keeping fat nuggets some company.
You dressed fat nuggets up as a pig princess. Angel found it cute and funny as he took a photo of it to remember the memory forever.
The most to baby you is definitely the Morningstars and Alastor a little bit. As Alastor felt to protect when he first seen you. He always tells you to smile at most to not let anyone see what’s underneath.
Alastor takes you on strolls at times. Even taking you to cannibal town where you can meet his dearest friend. Rosie, an overlord who takes on the cannibal town.
Rosie absolutely adores you! She called you sweetie pie all the time you visit her with Alastor.
I imagine you gave husk ponytails as he just grumbled drinking. He didn’t feel the need to scold you, you’re just a kid. Kids don’t know no better.
You and husk’s dynamic is “drunk uncle x pretty pink princess kid”
Husk hates to admit it but he likes your presence as you help him clean. Although he tries to tricks you to not clean the glasses so you won’t cut yourself.
Lucifer definitely tries to take care of you how he did for Charlie and it’s so wholesome as he would bring you ducks to your room that across of his.
He is such a overprotective father figure-
Angel and you have such cute fashion shows together as you both dress up like princesses💗
I headcannon that Charlie and Lucifer would spoil you rotten like getting you cute dresses or whatever you want as long as you are happy.
I can see that if it was your birthday, it’s as if Christmas and a birthday was combined as you get so much gifts😭
Niffty definitely teaches you how to clean as she always wanted to teach someone how to clean without ignoring her.
I can imagine you trying to contact Ben somehow as Ben is being interrogated back at the mansion as slenderman is chasing Ben with a pan demanding where you are at.
Sir Pentious lets you In on his machine shenanigans as you just smile with the egg boiz who hold your hands.
You showed your teddy bear to Lucifer who cooed at you as he made you a duck that had bear ears..you were weirded out at first but appreciated it. It was nice to get gifts! 💗
I headcannon you like greeting the residents in the hotel as they greet you back not excepting to se an actual human child in the hotel
I can see Angel dust having Velvette make cutesy outfits for you as he likes to see you as a little sister.
I can imagine you just doing that evil ass child laugh to scare the residents…you little ass menace
#sally williams#sally Willam! reader#creepypasta#creepy pasta x malereader#creepypasta x reader#child reader#dead child#dead children#crossover#creepypasta x hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x creepypasta#hazbin hotel x creepypasta! reader#hazbin hotel x Sally Williams! reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin vaggie#hazbin husk#hazbin charlie#hazbin lucifer#hazbin angel dust#hazbin alastor#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x child reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#hazbin hotel x platonic!reader#hazbin hotel x reader
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