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luveline · 10 months

Note

Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?

Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine

SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k

Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl.

You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes.

Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone.

He's clearly troubled by something.

"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.

"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion."

"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says.

He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.

He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it.

Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him.

You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh.

"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?"

Miguel doesn't glance your way.

Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says.

You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly.

"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small."

"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative.

Miguel groans loud and unapologetically.

You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest.

He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen.

"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it."

Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes.

"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers.

"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–"

"In what scenario–"

"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder.

"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop.

You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today?

"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says.

You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say.

"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once."

"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense."

Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.

"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now."

You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier.

"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you.

You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased.

"You did that on purpose," Miguel says.

"I did what on purpose?"

"Coming in here."

"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible.

Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours.

"Don't even think about it," he says.

"About what, handsome?"

"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win.

"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated."

He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it.

"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says.

"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much.

"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.

You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do."

He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something."

"Miguel, I came to see you."

"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority."

"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you.

"Go away. Come and see me later," he says.

You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory.

Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave.

Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.

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igotanidea · 11 months

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For his eyes only: Jason Todd x fem!reader x Dick Grayson preview

MINORS DNI!!!!!!! I'M SERIOUS!!!! IT'S HEAVY MATURE CONTENT AND I SWEAR IF YOU ARE UNDER LEGAL AGE AND INTERACT WITH THAT I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!

Seriously, I got so much fluff and angst on my blog, go check out sth else.

AS FOR THE REST: Let me know if you want more of this, cause damn my mind right now..... 🥵🥵🥵🥵

***

„Jay…..” she called him, swaying her hips left and right in that seductive way that always got her his undivided attention. Jason was currently splayed on the sofa, reading a book, but the second he saw her coming from the other side of the room he tossed it away, smirking knowingly.

“what is it princess?” he propped himself on the elbow, eyes fixed solely on her figure, her leggings leaving very little to the imagination “got something for me?”

“Mhm…..” she muttered, straddling his hips, hands locking on his neck, while his own found a way to her waist, gripping her tightly “I got a …. Proposition.”

“I like how that sounds. Keep talking baby…..”

“I’ve been thinking about …. Well, spicing things up in the bedroom.”

“Now I most definitely like how that sounds. Shall we start now?” his right hand travelled down, an started palming her ass.

“Why can’t you just let me finish, Jaybrid?” she grinded on him a bit, which got her a groan “’At least one of us should be able to keep it in the pants, don’t you think?” Y/N whispered into his ear, moving a bit more.

“I….. what do you need?” he hissed though clenched teeth, fighting the urge to just throw her on her back and have his way with her

“I want a threesome….” She whispered and fuck, he was hard before but now…. now he started burning up. Who would have thought that his little girl would suggest something like this? And to think that when they started dating she was all vanilla, scared of anything to crazy. Apparently, his lust, sex drive and explorer vain finally rubbed off on her. He created a monster and he loved that.

“God, can you say that again?” he panted, breath fastened. “that’s so hot coming from your mouth”

“Let’s explore something new, Jace….”

“Fuck, yes, you already got me.” He sat up looking straight into her eyes. “so…. you, me and Roy?”

“I was rather thinking about someone else….” She tangled fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp and tugging on the roots in that way he liked so much “someone, in your own playground.”

“What?” he frowned, but then the realization dawned on him “NO!”

“Jace….”

“I said no. fuck no. I am not sharing you with my fucking older brother.’

“But sharing me with Roy was completely fine.”

“those are two different things!”

“How so?”

“Dick is …. Is ….”

“What, baby?” she cooed “are you scared of a little competition? Cause Jay, believe me, I’m just curious about what it would be like to have both Nightwing and Red Hood. Wonder which one of you is a boss in the bed…..” she tapped her chin and he used that moment to trap her underneath him.

“I’m not scared of him! And you should know that the only one who can contain your slutty attitude is me” he kissed her hungrily, her back arching into him, before she realized the game Jay was playing and pushed him off

“Does this mean you agree?” she smiled absolutely innocently ”Please, baby. I’ll wear that little red lacy thing you like so much….”

“So he can admire you in that?” he hissed

“No baby, of course not.” her eyes sparkled dangerously, filled with lust and mischief “so you can take it off me before his very eyes. To leave Dick desperate, whiny, jealous….”

“Fuck…” Jason felt himself getting harder at the mere thought of killing two birds with one stone. Having her and torturing Grayson? He truly did not deserve the angel Y/N was being. “Just tell me when and where and it better be quick, cause otherwise babe, I’m gonna take you right here, right now. “

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x y/n #jason todd smut #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut

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mitsuyaya · 1 year

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[ phonography ] okkotsu yuuta x fem! reader

♡ contains: 1k+ words. MDNI, smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, guided masturbation (?), vaginal fingering, male masturbation, dirty talk, established relationship, long-distance relationship

♡ summary: Yuuta believes that he isn't a pervert, that he has great self-control, and that no matter how long you two are apart, he can control his urges—turns out he's all wrong.

♡ end note: cross posting part 3/6 of my yuuta’s bday bash. happy birthday my love ♡

By any means, Yuuta isn't a pervert.

He isn't horny all the time, isn't always sex deprived – your boyfriend isn't always that addicted to the feeling of your skin and limbs tangling with his.

To the feeling of your lips on his, eyes fixed on him, hands melting against his own – he doesn't yearn for your body all the time, you know that too.

“I need you baby, please. Can't take it anymore” his voice staggers, for a minute you thought he's in grave danger, that he's on the brink of death, not until you heard the sound of slicks and his low grunts from the phone.

He isn't a pervert, you know that all too well, but apparently during these times where you're both far apart from each other, he felt vulnerable, felt hopeless and lost without you.

Which is pretty hilarious, since he's the strongest (after Gojo of course) and yet he can't do one little task.

“Where are you y/n?” he sounded so desperate, with the tone in his voice, you could only imagine what his expression would be like.

Sweat beading into his forehead, eyes shut close from frustration, head leaned back on the headboard, hands lazily wrapped around his exposed length.

“I just got home, I'm at the front door right now.”

“Could you go to our bedroom and get on the bed right now, take off your clothes and panties for me, pretty girl.”

The power he had on you, even if he's nowhere to be seen right now, even if his presence is nothing more than just his voice from the phone – he still had the same effect on you, still had the lingering dominance in his words that you can't help but feel your knees shaking, trembling.

Without so much as a second thought, your feet dragged you into the bedroom, taking two flights of stairs at a time. If you weren't horny earlier, well now you are, he's a fucking curse really.

“Are you there yet?” you managed to pull yourself all the way to the bed, pants and underwear discarded somewhere around the bedroom floor.

You heard Yuuta's sharp intake of breath, you can sense the urgency in his voice, desperation pouring from his tone, you can feel just how much torture he's going through – the need to cum, to feel you.

“Yes baby, what do you want me to do? Want me to help you? Want me to guide you?”

It's hurting you more than it is to him, the way you could almost picture your boyfriend on the verge of tears had you clenching your thighs, no matter how much it seems nonsensical for him to be this way – you can't help it, the man you loved is just on the other side of the phone, of the world.

And you, his girlfriend, couldn't help him from something as trivial as this, distance is a fucking bitch.

“N-no, I just want you to stick a finger in your cunt f’me tell me how it feels, please.”

Nodding at his order, which is pretty useless since he can't see you, your fingers slid from your stomach into your folds, letting the pads of your finger collect your slick before easing it into your hole.

You moaned, it isn't enough but it makes your head swirl, not enough to soothe your loneliness but this’ll work, for the meantime that is.

“Yuu, f-feels good” he took a sharp breath, quivering, your voice sounds so angelic and so erotic – God, it's so much better if he's here. Your finger moved in and out, plunging inside your inviting walls so sweetly.

“C-can I add another finger please Yuu, want ‘em” fuck, fuck, fuck you sound so sweet, so cute when you beg. You're already begging when he isn't even doing anything yet.

“Put another f’me, curl them nicely mkay, imagine it's my fingers” you obeyed, letting you middle finger ease inside your gummy walls, curling it upwards just like what he always do, just what he does when he's present.

Think about how he does it instead, his mouth slating against yours. Licking every nook and cranny, swallowing your moans – his fingers working it's magic on your pussy. Grazing every spot inside you, it's ridiculously addicting.

Your thumb went straight to your clit, massaging the little pearl, letting out a moan of ‘Fuck, Yuu need y’so bad’, Yuuta made quick work to fist his cock, hands gripping the base harshly while listening intently to the obscene sounds you're making.

“Grind your pussy on those fingers baby, don't cover your moans. Lemme hear ‘em, lemme hear your pretty moans baby” his words work like magic, your hips rubbed against your fingers, making it plunge deeper into you, it feels good, so so good.

Yuuta tilted his head back, his hand gripping the phone. He fears that the more he listens to you he's going to break it any moment now.

Your voice sounded so hot that he could see how you'd look like right now, sitting prettily on the center of the bed – skin glistening from sweat, hips grinding against your palm desperately, staring at him with those puppy eyes – oh fuck, he'd fuck you right there if he could.

Still, it wasn't enough. It'll never be enough.

“Pretty, do you hear me?” You’re so lost in pleasure that his voice just passes from one ear to another and you can't seem to hear anything other than how your pussy makes such embarrassing noises, dripping with slick, so wet.

“Yuu, m’gonna cum”

“No!”

Your mouth hangs open, shocked and surprised – you slowed your movements, listening to his voice, more focused now.

“M’sorry yuu, just miss you s’much, ca-can’t do anything without you” he heard you sniffle, he stroked his cock fast and hard, fuck fuck fuck, he can't hold on much longer.

“Shit, no no baby it's ‘kay, I just can't hear anything, can you please put your phone near your pussy?”

“O-okay” You remained still for a minute, feeling awkward by his request but you obeyed nonetheless.

You placed your phone near your fingers, continuing what you were doing earlier. Free hands palmed your breasts, tweaking the hard nipple against your fingers, shit you're not gonna last long.

“Ah, mhm Yuu gonna cum, please Yuu can I cum, please let me cum.”

“Yes yes yes, go ahead baby cum, scream my name okay”

With another stroke of your fingers, your body trembled, orgasm washing over you screaming the words he so badly wanted to hear – Yu-Yuuta! – He soon followed, panting and grunting before he spilled his load, making a mess over his fingers and some spilled on his bare stomach.

It still feels lacking, a bit lonely after Yuuta has cleared his mind – he feels like a loser, even if you're just at the other side of the phone.

He's used to having you, having you just beneath his fingers, so when he's called in again for an overseas mission, he thought he'll last – turns out, he's wrong.

“Y/n...”

Silence.

“Y/n? Baby?”

He heard you snore, snoozing soundly, yeah, he remembers you fall asleep so easily after sex.

Sighing, he smiled to himself an image of you sleeping so cutely flashed through his mind – he should really finish this mission, urgently. Probably after he finishes cleaning up.

“Sleep well pretty girl, I miss you.”

#⛈️. storm out #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu smut #yuta x reader #yuta smut #yuta imagines #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #[ੈ✩‧₊˚]. constellations

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lupineaerosol · 8 months

Text

traveler | thomas shelby x f!reader

Not my image!

pairing : thomas shelby x time traveled!reader

word count : 3,831 :P

summary : a trip to scotland for a belated birthday celebration turns into a blast from the past when you find yourself in 1919 with no chance of getting home, until you meet someone on a train to London that tells you he can help your situation and get you a visa....

warnings : angsty at times, near death experience (hypothermia), inspector campbell being creepy for the plot, bad writing, i have no concept of how much money a british pound is so ??, warnings will change with each chapter so please read them carefully!

notes : reader is 23-27 but no specified age, this is kind of an Outlander A.U. where the reader travels through a stone circle (or cairn for this one lolz) and goes back in time

a.n. : this chapter is technically an intro to the rest of the plot that ties in with the canon + vvv descriptive bc thats my writing style :P + also i suck at summaries + just recently got back into writing as a hobby, so this might be absolute trash but I'm very proud. if anyone has any issues with the content or what i write about because it goes against anything online please let me know so i can fix it!!

Not my image!

The black hoodie clings to your skin, sopping wet and forcing a chill through your skin. In the split second it took to regain consciousness, you realize your clothes are soaked, and judging at how badly you're shivering and that you're face-down in the grass, you've been asleep in the rain for god knows how long. Rolling over the damp grass to sit up, you catch a glimpse at the location you find yourself, the cairn outside the small town you had been staying at in Scotland on vacation.

The sky was dim, sunrise slowly encroaching over the heavy raindrops on the hills. Sitting against one of the boulders of the cairn, a shaky breath leaves your chest, fanning out in front of your face. Through the near hypothermia that's started to quickly make you sweat, a deep uneasiness started to take root, but you were far too panicked to acknowledge it in the moment.

You jumped to your feet, realizing how little time you have alive could be without action, rubbing your hands together for as much friction they could create, dancing your legs in place to wake your body back up. Attempting a warm breath into your hands barely helped your frigid and close-to-death state. The cold was numbing, the fog in your brain was all around you, mentally and physically, keeping the hilltop the cairn sat upon as an island amidst a sea of grey. And suddenly there was a faint light approaching.

The candlelight within the squeaking lamp softened the mist, making it far more inviting than the haze the man emerged from. Your shivers halted abruptly, the uneasiness bubbled up from your stomach to your throat, a foul taste in the back of your mouth spread over your tongue.

"'ello!! 'ello is anyone out 'ere?!" The man's shoulders shook with a powerful Scottish accent, and a strong sense of safety accompanied it. Alas, the shivers returned in full force.

"Here!" Your voice broke sharply. "I-I'm over here!" Attempting to speak up through the shakes and ambiance of early dawn proved difficult, your breathing overtaken by the cold and feverish urge to survive.

And luck was on your side today, for the first time.

"Hello?" The gentleman turned to the sound of your voice, not expecting to find you curled in a ball and soaked to the bone. And in strange clothes that were quite unseemly for a woman of your age. The outer layer that draped over you and the denim that clad your legs were downright outlandish to the man in front of you. 'Damn Americans and their strange styles of dress' He thought to himself quickly, before stepping lightly over to you, helping you up, and taking his overcoat off to throw across your shoulders.

The warmth was welcomed greatly. You nearly stopped shivering for a moment as the smell of worn and slightly wet leather, cologne and fire overtook you. It was the most definitive thing you could grasp on to in the few minutes, or hours, you had been conscious of.

"Ma'am, what are you doing out here at the time of morn'? You'll catch yourself a death of a cold out in this weather for much longer." The older man took your hand and led you to his carriage and horse. What am I doing out here? The reasoning escaped you through the fog, but you caught a glimpse.

A stone in your hands, turning in your palm as you walk the grounds of a historic castle. Your phone died in your hands mid photo, with the cairn in the fading pixels.

Where are you?

Your slowly warming hand finds its way into the soaked pocket of your hoodie, and alas, no such stone was to be found. Your cell phone and wallet remained, but judging by the man assisting you, there didn't seem to be much hope in asking if he had a charger you could borrow.

He paused to let you lean against the large wooden wheel of his cart, waiting a moment before speaking. A gentler tone took his voice. "Ma'am, do you remember how you got out here?"

The fog had cleared, both in your mind, and as the first bits of sunlight rose from the eastern horizon. After a pregnant pause, you responded.

"I'm vacationing here, from America." That much was true, you were from America and you were here on vacation, the only question was when you were visiting. You had flown over in a modern plane, taken a modern train from London to Edinburgh, and then a taxi to Inverness. The man in front of you made a subtle face of surprise, as if the journey you have described could have taken over 6 months, when in it only took 2 days for you to be a quarter of the way around the globe.

"I'm sorry you've found yerself so far from home, Inverness 's not a place I would expect an American to want to travel." The man moved the lantern from his hand to a metal bar attached to the seat of the carriage. He busied himself with his gloves. "If I'm correct, you're shivering out of yer britches and startin' to sweat at the same time." You nodded quickly, sharp pins and needles erupting from the skin you moved. The man brushed his hand over his chin, considering his options.

"My daughter Isa will have coffee and a warm hearth awaitin'. Once you've warmed up we can 'elp you return to wherever ye came from." The man sounded less than enthusiastic to have an American in his home, but the desperate need of your medical situation demanded his unwilling help. No one wanted to have any connection to a dead foreigner found at a locally mysterious site known for having a frequency of people going missing when visiting.

He helped you up onto the bouncing wooden seat. The smell of horse and leather of the reigns was the second most tangible thing you could consider basing your reality off of. This was obviously not the 21st century. A young woman, possibly anywhere in the 1830's to the 1940's (judging the man's attire and horse) in a foreign country with no possible way of proving her existence via official documents. That was the reality of the matter. You had no idea when you were, and if there was a possibility of getting back to the modern day.

Focus, and compartmentalize. There will be time to deal with the larger issues later on. Don't freeze to death, and then figure out what time and day it is. Gently and slowly returning to work, your brain made its first decision of this strange crisis: Deal with it later. In the meantime, you were able to do a quick mental diagnostic ; Legs work, fingers bend and grab, your stomach growls and you understand that your guts and heart still work, you've spoken to the man, so obviously your mouth and voice still work just fine. The only outlier was what year you were inhabited by accident.

The gentleman took one last glance at the girl who had barely spoken, and urged his horse forward toward the gentle outline of a stone town a few miles away.

The fire overtook the crisp and clammy feeling that crawled over your body. Heat licked at your hair and half exposed arms. You had met the man's daughter, Isa, and she had practically thrown a warm cup of half brewed coffee out of half awake panic. Although your father walking into your kitchen with a strange young woman at barely 5 in the morning would alarm you as well.

Adding to the alarm, Isa was just as perplexed about your strange, "American" clothes. She was convinced no one was strange enough to wear those clothes willingly, and since you were of similar size with Isa, she gave you a few of her old clothes to wear as you warmed in front of the fire. A bulky, tan skirt slightly too tight at the waist and a thin, loose in the bosom white blouse. You sat at the hearth with a large blanket draped over your shoulders, reminiscent of the smell of the man's overcoat.

Your clothes draped near the fire, steam coming off of your printed socks with cats on them. Isa had commented about the craftsmanship and how expensive they must have been. You barely muttered a response that would have made sense. All that time spent taking notes in World History class, and you remember nothing about Britain and Scotland after the Revolutionary war or before WWII. The grip on your phone was tight and you quietly pondered as to how you were going to keep it hidden while you were here. There was hope to get home. At least for now.

"So you really can't remember anything?" Isa leaned over to place the back of her hand over your warm forehead.

"Nothing from before your father found me." You only partially lied, you can't directly remember how you ended up at the cairn.

"But you remember your name, right?" Isa sat back in her chair, reaching for a cup of coffee on the dining table.

"Oh, right, sorry. My name is (y/n)." Your answer was curt, unrevealing as possible.

The morning dragged on. The sun was up, the clock on the wall above the sink read 7:46. Time.

"What day is it?" You asked quietly into your coffee while attempting to cool it off.

"Wednesday." Isa had been buzzing around the kitchen, completing various tasks but while also keeping an eye on you. Her father had toddled off somewhere else in the house, his footsteps were heard, but not yet seen in daylight. "But if you would like the specifics, it's Wednesday, February 5th, in the year 1919."

"Thank you, Isa."

Hours later and lots of planning around the limited memory you spoke about having, it was decided that Isa's father would lend you a 20 pound note he had been saving (He was subtly adamant you got his address to mail money back to him) for the trains to London, and Isa gifted you a few of her mother's worn skirts and blouses.

The plan was for you to travel back to London and hopefully return to either your home country or your family, though you knew both of these things were problematic. Isa's father, Robert, had left around 8 to ask around the town about your family, or anyone who may have traveled with you. No one had a clue. You thanked both of them urgently, and with deep appreciation. A small mental note was categorized that you should repay more than just the 20 pounds, kindness as bountiful as had been shown to you was deserved of a larger reward.

A short walk with many stumbles to the train station back to Edinburgh. The heels of your company's shoes clicked against the raised wooden deck parallel to the stone station.

"Thank you both, for your generosity." You gripped at the skirt that fell to the tips of your toes barely covered your Chuck Taylor Converse. Isa smiled gently, holding a worn and broken leather carrying case out to you to take.

"I can't do enough to pay you all back." You made a note to include Isa's mother in the thanks, as she was also indirectly gifting you items.

"Goin' home safe," a large pause entered the conversation following Robert's comment. Isa had earlier explained that her father has a strange and unusual issue with Americans. Especially visiting somewhere like Inverness. "-Is all we can pray for." His voice was genuine, but with a hint of resentment. Not towards you, but aimed at something far larger than you. Robert was odd. Everything is odd. If you were only slightly more deranged, you would be acting just as cold and bitter as he was.

The train whistle was enough to make you jump out of your skin slightly, and the final call for boarding passengers was announced by the conductor.

"Again, thank you both. Your kindness is appreciated more than you can imagine." Taking the bag from Isa's hands, the heft slightly surprised you, but recovered as you walked up the steps to the train. Part of you wanted to stay, see what life you could carve here while trying to get home through the cairn. The other part of you understood that there isn't a choice in going home.

A large smile was across Isa's face when you found her among the scattered people on the raised deck, her father seemed to have already walked away and started on the walk home. A smile and wave and the train chugged into motion, steam flying behind the glass. You catch your reflection briefly. (y/e/c) eyes and an ill greenish grey colour clung to your skin, the grey skies unrelenting in their goal to forbid sunlight from reaching Scotland’s soil. It was pitiful to see yourself like this, a homesick and anxious ache bloomed in your gut. Settling into the steady chugging, the warmth of the shirt on your shoulders, and the steadiness of your seat beneath you was reality enough to coax you into a well deserved sleep.

A clamorous crash awoke you from the short nap your body allowed, the train had stopped, and with it came your carrying case from the weak storage compartment situated above your head. Calming your racing heart, you leaned over to stand and pick the dry leather handle from the floor and returned the hefty item to its previous place. A huff of breath while you fall into your seat, and your pulse finally calms down. You looked out the glass at the yellow train station sign reading the carefully painted words ‘Welcome to Manchester’ slowly.

People filed onto and off of the individual train cars, and soon enough your train car was mostly filled, all except the private aisle you suddenly shared with an older man in a bowler hat and bulky, black overcoat. Scanning him as he took the opposing corner seat in the small room. Everything about this man was understated, his tie held no colour, nor did his vest or suitcoat. The only colour to bespeckle this man was the icy blue of his eyes, weathered by age, and his salt and pepper hair and mustache.

He carried and opened a file of paperwork close to his chest, but sitting across from him it was easy to see that he had no intention of keeping the title private; ‘TOP SECRET, SPECIAL BRANCH, BSA MUNITIONS ROBBERY : PRIME’- Suspects, finishing the sentence you couldn’t read fully. With the amount of heist movies you watched before you were thrown back in time gave you a good inference that this man was police, or whatever British version of the FBI that happened to exist in 1919.

You were shocked the man didn’t seem to acknowledge your existence in the train car, until he swiftly checked to see where your eyes had been trailing and caught you staring directly at the opened folder.

“Has your family yet taught you that staring is quite rude?” A gruff and grumbled voice projected from beneath his bushy mustache. You removed your eyes quickly from the grey-green envelope. He carried the corners back towards each other, closing the file to place it on his lap.

“They did, I apologize.” You moved to turn your body away from him, crossing your left leg over your right to lean against the window, eyes dragging sleepily over the quickly passing trees. You hadn’t even been aware the train had started moving again. Your accent seemed to surprise the man.

“American?” He queried. You nodded, turning your head back to look in his direction. “If I may be so bold and ask, are you traveling to London?”

“Yes, actually. I hope to travel home once I arrive there.” You pondered quickly over the depth of information you wanted to share with the man. “I lost my passport while visiting Inverness, I need to speak to the police in London to figure out how I can get home without it.”

The man’s mustache lifted gently with a slight smile. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing we met today, my name is Chester Campbell, I’m an Inspector with the Scotland yard. I can get you a travel visa in Birmingham tomorrow, and then the day after you can be on a boat in London sailing back to the states.” He enthusiastically put his hand to his knee, outwardly excited for the upcoming few days. Your warning alarms were blaring in your head, but you doubted this man would let you stray away from the plan he just created.

“May I see your identification?” You hoped he would be too excited to hear in your voice how deeply you distrusted him. “It’s awfully dangerous for a young woman like myself to be traveling with a stranger who can’t prove his identity.” A shy smile lit your face gently, hoping to ease your own tension. He gave off waves of steeled and attuned senses to something. What it was you couldn’t pinpoint, but you could barely manage to stay in the same car with the way your skin suddenly crawled.

“Of course m’lady,” He handed you his badge after drawing it from within his breast pocket on his overcoat. All his information seemed appropriate for a man of his age and stature, and your hackles smoothed down with the small comfort that he was in fact a police officer. “Anything for the comfort of the fairer sex.”

Ew. Forget your skin crawling, you felt violently ill. But he could get you to America sooner. Although, what the hell would be good about being a woman traveling by herself to her nonexistent home in the states? Where would you even go once you got to New York? Dangers lurk around every turn, this Inspector Campbell was proof of this. I can’t give this opportunity away, as much as I dislike him. I might not get another chance to fall into my lap like this. “Thank you, Inspector.” A response finally fell through your teeth as you handed his badge back to him, and he tucked it back into its place within his coat. A tense conversation of small talk filled the remainder of the ride to Birmingham, your trust in him was nonexistent, and the hour and 30 minute ride didn’t improve it.

Stretching your legs from the excruciatingly long train ride was a welcomed feeling, stepping off the train and onto the Birmingham station platform. The sun was setting and you needed a drink. The trunk in your hand bumped your leg as you walked with it, eager to get away from that god forsaken room the Inspector filled with conversation through the entire ride. Swiftly asking those scattered around the buildings surrounding the station, The Garrison seemed to be the only pub within walking distance and price range, and so you started your venture to find food and drink. Your legs carried you away from the station as fast as possible before the Inspector had the chance to corner and engage you in yet another drawn-out commentary on the weather.

The Inspector had also offered to take you out for dinner, but you refused politely as you were collecting your things on the train to leave swiftly. If an hour of his time was grating years off of your life like it seemed to have done, you can’t imagine dinner with him. It might kill you on the spot.

The intricate details on the glass of the front façade gave The Garrison an odd aura that felt so very welcoming and warm, and yet the building itself had a feeling of owning wary and watchful eyes. Pushing through the doors, the rubber of your shoes squealed loudly against the marble flooring, catching the eyes of many of the other patrons through the frosted glass. You paused against the second set of doors to steady yourself and grip the handle of your carrying case before walking directly to the golden bar top and shimmying up onto a stool.

It wasn’t a great bar, in fact it was barely more than four walls, a few windows, and a mountain of liquor. The lighting was dim, keeping the more unseemly stains from the eyes of the customers. The woodworking of the booths behind you was gorgeous, beautiful craftsmanship that was beer spackled and possibly pissed on. The woodwork behind the bar seemed less abused, instead worn and well loved, and before you could admire it any further, the tall bartender asked you for your order.

“What food do you have here?” You asked swiftly, running on fumes and short tempered from the train ride. You, very less than subtly, reached down your shirt to where you had stashed the 20 pounds in your bra. Luckily The Garrison paid no attention, and you were able to order the largest meal the man in front of you could provide: a few slices of sourdough bread, cheese and a small chicken breast with potatoes. Pairing it with a large stein of beer, you were barely awake by last call, nearly asleep on the bar after everyone else had cleared out, except for the strange group of men that had been in and out of the corner room over the course of the night.

“Ma’am, I hate to do this to you, but you can’t sleep at the bar tonight.” The bartender leaned against the golden surface with a rag over his shoulder. God knows what time it was, and there was no possible way of getting you to care.

“Is there anywhere nearby for less than,” You did a quick tally in your mind to count the remaining coins in your pocket. “10 pounds a night?” Lifting your head from the counter to gaze up at the barman.

He sighed above you. “Look, don’t let anyone know about it, and I’ll let you sleep at one of the booths for tonight. You seem like a good enough woman, but tomorrow morning you are done loitering here and you’ll move along.” He bargained, and your heart leapt in your chest at the grace of the cards that have been falling into place around you.

“Thank you so much, sir. I’ll help you open tomorrow morning if that would help at all, I really do mean to earn my keep for tonight.” You suggested, overexcited at the fact you had a place to stay the night. He seemed to chew on the idea in his mind for a moment.

“I don’t see why that wouldn’t work.” He nodded. “The name’s Harry Fenton, I own the Garrison.”

“I’m (y/n),” You smiled slightly. “And I think I will be going to bed now.”

notes pt2. : woooaaah holy crap that was a lot im so sorry for such a long intro chapter but trust itll make sense next chapter :P i legit worked on this chapter for a week and I will try my best to learn how to make a freakin masterlist now that im finally back into writing stuffs :> idk when pt 2 will be out but i can start a tag list if anyone wants to be added

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #Thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you

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sl-vega · 1 month

Text

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ SUNSHINE ON A RAINY DAY

Pairing: Karasu Tabito x [FEM!] Reader

Genre: fluff, comfort, angst (?), canon compliant if you squint, mainly an au tho, oneshot/drabble

Synopsis: in which you get stood up by your asshole of a date, and a certain crow-looking boy comforts you

CW: mild language, ooc karasu (?)

Karasu set his phone down as he rubbed his temples. He was sitting down on a bench outside of a local coffee shop. The smell of the rain surrounded him as the downpour continued falling.

It was a slow, boring, day. Practice was cancelled, and most of his friends were busy. Otoya had several dates planned for the day, and Hiori's parents never let him go out with company unless it was for soccer.

He sighed gazing up at the grey clouds. The droplets just barely missing his eyes.

Today was far less than mediocre

He thought. Watching the clouds move by, little by little. Just barely moving.

Maybe I should've taken up Otoya on that double date offer...

He groaned, looked back down at the stores and shops surrounding him, he wasn't expecting anything to have changed during his cloud-watching session.

And he certainly wasn't expecting you.

You were drenched by the downpour, hugging yourself for some semblance of support. He noticed your tear stained face and your puffy red eyes.

He also noticed how fucking gorgeous you were.

You were dressed up. Like really dressed up. Bedazzled dress, fancy heels, and makeup that probably took you hours. Must've been on a date or somethin' he thought.

Even from a distance, he could tell that you were freezing. He couldn't help but feel sorry for you. So, like the gentleman he was, he approached you, umbrella in hand.

You hadn't noticed him yet. You were leaning against the outer wall of a book store. Your body was trembling, and he could see your chest rapidly rise of fall from your shallow breaths.

He placed his hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, your eyes were glassy from your tears. Now that he was closer to you, he noticed a lot more details about you.

He noticed he way your dress clinged to your body due to it being soaked by the rain. The way it showed off your curves and how-

God he was staring wasn't he?

He cleared his throat, realizing his hand was still on your shoulder, he swiftly moved it away not wanting to make you more uncomfortable.

"You okay?"

You shook your head, averting eye contact. He lifted his umbrella over your head. He could still hear your faint sobs. He didn't know why, but he felt a strong urge to make you feel better.

You were still shivering, so he unzipped his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You whispered a quiet "thank you" to him as he fixed the garment to make sure that it wouldn't fall off.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I don't want you getting sick 'cuz of me." You said, finally speaking up.

Even your voice was pretty

He thought, first time hearing you speak but he would kill just to hear you talk again.

"Eh, I've been through worse." He shrugged, attempting to sound nonchalant. He noticed you grip onto the jacket, making sure that it wouldn't fall of your shoulders.

"You have somewhere you need to be?" He asked, keeping the conversation afloat.

"I'm on my way to the station." You replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"What a coincidence, I'm heading there too."

Lies, your house is a five minute walk away from here, why are doing all this for a girl you just met? She probably thinks you're a creep.

You smiled, it was small, barely noticeable but it was adorable nonetheless. He gestured to the other direction, right where the station was, and you followed.

As the two of you walked side by side, you spoke up again.

"Thanks again, um...?"

"Karasu."

"(L/N)."

If he were Otoya, he would've said something corny like "beautiful name for a beautiful girl." Thankfully he didn't, but he settled for a simple: "Hm, pretty name." He watched your cheeks dust with a rosy hue from the comment.

Easily flustered too huh?

He made more mental notes about you, he didn't know why he found you so fascinating, or why he was so curious about you, all he knew was that he wanted to know more.

The two of you walked in silence for a bit, the pitter patter of the rain filling both of your senses. Karasu looked over at you.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"Guy I was seeing stood me up."

Your once peaceful expression reverted back to it's down and mopey face. He didn't know what to say so he opted for the usual.

"Sorry to hear that." He felt guilty for using the usual phrase that he told most of Otoya's sidechicks whenever one of them found out that there was "another woman".

"Don't be." You replied, sniffling. "I honestly should've seen it coming. He's got a reputation." You said, bitterly, chuckling.

"What made you stay?" He asked, now curious.

"Same old, same old, I thought that I was "different" or that I could "fix" him." You rubbed your temples, sighing.

"Were the two of you close?"

"Very, at least that's what I tell myself."

You sighed again, and Karasu felt guilty for bringing it up, especially when you were feeling fine a few moments ago.

"This guy reminds me a lot of someone I know." He said, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. "I've been roped into several of his problems." He groaned, recounting all the times he had to cover for Otoya.

You chuckled. "Do tell."

"We're gonna be here for a while then."

"I don't think I'll mind as long as you're here."

You smiled.

Were you flirting with him?

You grabbed his hand and your fingers intertwined, you were still smiling.

Oh God, you were definitely flirting with him

Partially a gift to the lovely @latay7 who has indirectly motivated me to make more bllk content

#karasu x reader #karasu tabito #karasu tabito x reader #tabito x reader #bluelock x reader #bluelock x you #bluelock #otoya eita

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daddy-dins-girl · 1 month

Text

Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#pedro pascal cinematic universe #dave york #marcus pike #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #dave york smut #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x dave york #marcus pike smut #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

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sea-of-dust · 2 months

Text

Making chocolate for Lyney!

N:I had an idea to wrote catching yugioh protags at a part time job. Might finally fix that yugioh hole in my ml

Event link here

Running around Fontaine without him attached to your hip was hard enough, but trying to hide something too? He's gonna make a GREAT plot for drama. The markets lights bright enough to keep you awake dim enough to not burn them entirely. Buying the ingredients were quite easy, if you would have gone in the morning he would have known the very instant he saw what you bought, maybe even just knowing where your going, he'd make it aggressively obvious he knew too. This was a surpise he's not going to rub your cheek and smirk while stating how much he adores you. Flirting and neck/cheek kisses will not make chocolate!!

He'd 100% get giddy noticing you make chocolate, that's probably when he'd get the most chaotic, in the kitchen of all places. "It smells of chocolate you don't happen to be making any?" "Whaaatt totally not what?" You try to block it from his view even when he moves perspective. "It's obvious it's there" smirking he jokingly reaches for it. "Nooo, it's not" "hehe" without a sweat, he kisses your cheek. "Thank you." "for what?" Your mind officially going blank "for making me chocolate" he kisses you again "you and I both know it's not for you" "and if it is?" "Then you wouldn't be making so much of an effort to hide it" Your heart skipped a beat from how well he knew you. "You'll get them when they're done..." smirking he kisses your neck "I know they'll be amazing" you know he'd never let you finish those choclates without a pickup line or god forbid getting the urge to cuddle right in the middle of making them.

The daytime nightmare of your boyfriend knocked you out almost as soon as you saw your bed after putting away groceries. He WILL be the first thing you see outside your door. "Y/n!" He tries to peak through your peep hole. Unfortunately, there's no such thing as a reverse peep hole, unable to see anything he waits by the door, as soon as you open it his eyes light up as if filled with energy. "Just intime ma chérie, I was wondering if you'd like to run some errands with me" "oh" rubbing the back of your neck trembling before your next words "I'm a bit busy today" "that's unfortunate, maybe next time then" "I'll make sure of it" you kiss his cheek before waving your goodbyes and closing the door. You knew it would have bothered him for the rest of the day if that kiss wasn't there to soften the blow

Trying to read the instructions the clerk had given you, you got to work, melting,mixing, and pouring into chocolate molds, using your cryo vision to freeze the chocolate after being molded. After that, you prepare the box, using the jumbled decor, you decorate the inside of the box, then the outside. When the chocolate finally solidifies you take it out the ice and wrap them in individually

When the day came, you had to hype yourself up, a bit nervous he might outwardly dislike it, you gulp, going into one of his shows. As soon as you appear in the crowd you, he smiles widely, his glare softens seeing your bashful face amongst the crowd. As soon as the show starts, he does his usual tricks, ones you've seen and almost have gotten to know how he does them, yet are still amazed by eatch sight. Near the end of the show the crowd seemed to almost take a bit of the street despite them not being that close to it. Gracefully he pulls out cards "we've had fun dear audience but I'm afraid I must go" the crowd simultaneously awies in disappointment "not to worry I'm sure we'll meet again" cards suddenly fly in the air disappearing the magician and his assistant, a card landing near you with his face printed on it. "Hold that box tight" holding it tightly suddenly, you feet a tug at your waist, the runaway magican dragging you away with him. "I'm sorry I couldn't go with you yesterday" "No worries" gripping the choclates tighter you interlock the hand on your waist with your own letting yourself run with him. "Sometimes I wish I can go into those cards" "only magicians can ma chérie" "Lynettes tea cup can do magic?" he laughs loudly "that's not what I ment"

As soon as you guys stop, you hand him the box. "They may be a little crushed but" swallowing down you look at him with frail confidence "this is for you" huffing a bit he opens the box, fidgeting with your fingers, you watch him twirl a piece in his hand "what's this?" "Choclate" your mind races with what ifs what if he says he hates chocolate, what if him and Lynette judge you for the rest of time? You watch him take off the wrapper, slowly popping it into his mouth. You try not to look at him as he does, afraid it might be so bad he physically repluses. Without hearing a thing, you feel chocolate trace your lips. "They taste amazing ma chérie, thank you" without giving it much thought he kisses your newly chocolate flavored lips "I'll have to try my hand at this one day" he kisses you again "we should cook together too" lazily wrapping his arms around your neck you point to Lynette calmly ignoring the whole thing. "We should make these together next time, you might be able to catch me grocery shopping" you tease pulling his hat to cover his eyes.

#fluff #x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin impact #lyney #lyney genshin #genshin lyney #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin lyney x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #lyney x gender neutral reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 11 months

Text

Cruel Summer | Javier Peña (Chapter Five)

Series Summary | Javier Peña is back in Laredo, this time for good. He hadn’t banked on you still being there, especially not with a wedding ring on your finger. A complicated shared history and plenty of unresolved feelings between the two of you should make for an interesting summer.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 5.2K (oooops, I got carried away)

Warnings | Descriptions of domestic abuse (not from our boi Javi), talk of injuries, infidelity, cheating, SMUT, oral (f receiving) and unprotected PiV sex (please don't do this, be smart and safe), mentions of alcohol, cigarettes, and pregnancy.

Authors Note | Thank you all for being so patience with me whilst I got my head back into writing this. This took me ages to figure out in my mind but I'm so proud of what I've managed to produce. I really appreciate hearing what y'all think of this series, comments and reblogs really do make my day with this - so if you enjoy it, let me know!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ethan is furious. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry before. He’d arrived home late last night from his business trip, falling into bed sometime past midnight. He’d tossed and turned for a while as you pretended to be asleep next to him before he turned over, pulled at your arm to turn you onto your back and then crowded on top of you. You’d let him because it was easier than denying him, but when he pushed himself inside of you all you could think about was Javier.

What would he do in this situation? You’d like to think he’d at least take some time to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Was he the type of man who would spend hours with his head between your thighs just because he liked the way his name fell from your mouth? You think he would be. Would he whisper sweet nothing’s into your ear in Spanish whilst he was buried deep inside you? God, you hoped so. By the time Ethan was spilling himself inside of you and rolling over, leaving you, as he always did, completely unsatisfied and feeling completely used, all your brain could focus on was the animalistic need to know exactly what Javier would do to you in bed.

Now, as Ethan stands in the kitchen, fuming after he found the wads of cash from your farmer’s market sale, all you wanted to do was run. Run from this pathetic life and into whatever it was that Javier could give you.

“I fucking told you I would get around to sorting it out!” He shouts at you, “And you had to go and completely disobey me! How does this make me look?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “Ethan, it’s been pushing one hundred degrees the entire time you’ve been away, I need that new AC unit because otherwise I’m going to die in that shop, and I think a little bit of embarrassment is better than admitting to the town that I’m dead because you couldn’t be bothered to fix it.”

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” He fumes, his skin flushing red, “I bet that asshole Peña had something to do with this.”

“Because now every time I do something you don’t like it has to involve him?” You raged, “Newsflash Ethan, I’ve been doing things you don’t like since before we got married, and that certainly had nothing to do with Javier and everything to do with the fact you can’t stand me.”

“Did he have anything to do with it?”

You don’t know why you don’t lie in this moment. Maybe it would have been easier, less of an argument to deal with, but you can’t help yourself, “Maybe he did.”

“I fucking knew it!” Ethan slams his fist down on the kitchen counter, “That asshole, trying to worm his way into my family, walking around this fucking town like he’s some sort of king because he took down Escobar,” You can’t help yourself but think that you might actually be able to see steam coming out of his ears soon, “And you!” He’s pointing a finger at you as he rounds the counter, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell away from him, or are you just too fucking stupid to understand me?”

It all happens at once. You’ve slapped him hard across the face and in this moment, you can’t tell which of you is more surprised. He’s stood inches away from your face with a look in his eyes that has panic settling in your stomach. He could kill you if he wanted to. It’s the first time you’ve thought he might, with his chest heaving and his eyes like daggers. You’re scared.

“How. Fucking. Dare. You.” He spits out into your face, he’s got wide hands placed around the tops of your arms and before you know it your back is pressed against the wall, he’s squeezing the skin so hard that you’re crying out, “Someone needs to teach you some fucking respect.”

If you weren’t so frightened, you’d have some stupid retort about the fact that it certainly couldn’t be him, because even with a ring around your finger you could never respect this man in front of you, but you keep your mouth shut.

“Ethan please,” You whimper, “Please let me go, you’re hurting me.”

“Oh, I’m hurting you, am I?” He jeers into your face, squeezing his hands around your arms even harder, “You should have thought about that before you fucking slapped me, stupid girl.”

He pulls you back from the wall slightly before slamming you backwards again, the force of it causing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you, “You better lose the attitude or I will take us so far away from this place you’ll never see your stupid friends or your precious Javier Peña again, do you understand me?”

You nod, sniveling through your tears, then he finally lets your arms go and steps away from you, “Get out of my fucking sight.”

You don’t waste any time in doing just that, stopping just long enough to grab a thin cardigan and your car keys before your hurtling to your car with nowhere really to go. Your immediate thought is Javier, but it’s the middle of the day and he’ll be out helping Chucho on the ranch. You don’t think you can bare the heat of the shop, or the fact that you might have to interact with a customer, so that’s out too. There’s only one person left – Gabriela. There’s an internal battle you’re having with yourself, she’s so close to having her baby that you don’t want to intrude on her, but she’s the only person you can think of who will know what to do right now.

You’re not really sure how you manage to make it to her house unscathed with the amount of tears that are dropping from your eyes and the way your hands are shaking, but you’re pulling up in front of her house in no time.

“Good God alive, what on earth is the matter?!” She exclaims when she opens the door, pulling you into a hug, protruding belly crushed between you.

“Oh Gabriela everything’s gone so wrong and I don’t know what to do.” You cry, sniffing into her shoulder, you pull away and briefly apologise for getting her shirt wet, to which she gives you a look that says ‘don’t be so fucking stupid’ before she’s ushering you inside.

She waddles in front of you, clearly uncomfortable, and sternly tells you to sit at the breakfast bar whilst she boils some water to make tea. In no time at all there’s a steaming mug placed in front of you, and she’s sat herself down on the chair next to you with her own mug.

“So, where do we start?” She’s coaxing you, hand holding your own.

“I’m fucking miserable Gabs,” You speak softly, “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” She scoffs, “What’s he done this time?”

“He found the money,” You’re looking into the amber liquid of the green tea in front of you, “Lost his mind that I’d done it without him, got cross because it was Javi’s idea and then told me to get out and leave him alone.”

“Did he hurt you?” She asks, “And I swear if you lie to me once more about this, I’m actually going to lose my mind.”

You nod, it’s small, but she catches it, and you can hear the inhalation of breath, “But it was my fault, I slapped him first.”

“Did you slap him first all the other times he’s clearly hurt you?” You shake your head this time, “Show me.” She’s asking.

You slowly slip the cardigan off your arms. You look down and there are perfect red welts on your skin where Ethan’s fingers had been digging into your arm earlier. No doubt in time they’d bruise, “Jesus fucking Christ.” Is Gabriela’s response.

“I’m sorry Gabs, I didn’t wanna burden you with this I promise, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You think this is a burden to me?” She’s imploring, catching your eyeline when you try to look away, “Cielito, this is nothing like a burden, it’s a bloody relief, I’ve been wanting you to tell me this for years.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, dumbass, all those times you cancelled on me last minute and disappeared for days? You had to be hiding something, and the longer you’ve been with him the longer I’ve known he’s a horrible man – doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“What do I do, Gabs?”

“Only you can answer that question, but that,” She points to your arms, “That’s assault, so you can go to the police, and then there’s always divorce.”

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I can’t do this on my own Gabriela, I’m so fucking scared, he’s got everything, he’s going to take everything, I won’t have my shop anymore, I’ll be homeless, where do I even start?”

Gabriela bites at her lip whilst she thinks, “You won’t have to do this alone, I promise you,” She’s got your hand clutched in hers again, “Can you give me a few weeks?” She’s asking, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but let me get this gremlin out of me first, and then I promise we’ll get you out, okay?”

You nod in agreement because it’s more than you thought you’d get. The idea of freedom could surely see you through the next couple of weeks, “If it gets too bad then you let me know and we’ll sort something out, I promise, okay?”

She’s hugging you then, the kind of bone crushing hug that only she would be capable of, and you can feel yourself crying again. What on earth had you done to deserve her?

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, but can I borrow your phone really quickly?” You ask.

“Of course, I need to use the bathroom again anyway, so I’ll give you some space.”

Once she’s out of earshot, you’re dialing the number that you’d had memorized since high school, even with his years of absence. After a few rings someone picks up on the other end.

“Hi, Chucho, it’s me.”

“Ahhh Mija, how are you today?”

“I’m well thank you, how about you?”

“Not too bad thank you, just come inside to beat the midday heat for a while.”

“Ah yes,” You smile, you’ve always loved the sound of Chucho’s voice, calm and stoic, reminding you of your own father, which is probably why you like it so much, “I hope you’ve got plenty of ice-cold lemonade,” You bite at the side of your thumbnail, “Is Javi there?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to get rid of him too soon.

“He is, let me just pass you over.”

There’s the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone and you can hear Chucho telling Javi it’s you on the other end, then there’s silence before he’s speaking.

“Hola querida,” God his voice is like butter, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You reply quietly, “I just wanted to hear your voice, I hope you don’t mind me calling in the middle of the day.”

“I wouldn’t mind you calling in the middle of the night, querida, don’t worry,” You can hear him drinking someone on the other end of the phone, “You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

“I was wondering if I could see you tonight?” You ask meekly, not wanting to make yourself a burden to another person today.

“You can,” He’s replying, “Where?”

“Can I come to you?”

You can hear him shuffling a little on the other end of the phone, you can hear the shifting of paper, he must be looking at the calendar that’s hanging near the phone – his mother had insisted on it when she was still alive, and Chucho makes sure there’s a new one there every January 1st.

“Yes,” He replies softly, “Pops has a poker game in town tonight according to the calendar, he should be gone by seven, is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m happy with whatever is best for you, I’ll see you then.”

“Alright, querida, take care and I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Javi.” You whisper softly before you’re hanging up the phone.

You put the phone back on the receiver and rub your hands over your face, trying to ignore the pooling of nerves in your tummy. If Gabriela could sense all these years that something was off, then there’s no doubt that Javi will know as well. He’s the most perceptive man you’ve ever met. The dull ache of Ethan’s fingerprints on your arms were ever-present now, there was no way you’d be able to hide them from him.

“You can stay here for a while if you want,” Gabriela’s voice calls from the living room, “I would only be folding baby clothes on my own.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon helping Gabriela like she suggested, folding baby clothes, setting out diapers and toiletries in the bathroom and eating her famous enchiladas for dinner. Diego comes home sometime after five, giving you a hug, before he’s pulling out two beers which you enjoy with your friends in their back garden. The sun is setting and it’s nearing six in the evening when you bid them both farewell.

“Please let me know if you need us, okay?” Gabriela whispers into your hair as she hugs you goodbye, “There’s isn’t a thing in this world that would stop us from helping you.”

You bite back tears before you nod your head, giving Diego a similar hug, before you’re hopping in your car and driving out of town towards the Peña ranch.

It doesn’t take as long as you’d anticipated but when you drive up you can see there’s only one truck parked outside which means Chucho must have already left for the evening. Javier is stood on the porch before you’ve stepped down from the truck. You make sure the cardigan you’d worn was buttoned up before you head over to him.

“Evening, querida.” He speaks softly, dipping his head to kiss you on the cheek.

Before he can fully pull away, you’ve got a hand on the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. His hands weave around your waist and you wrap your other arm around his neck to press your body more firmly to his own before you’re pulling away from him, breathless.

“Evening to you too.” You smile, and it’s genuine. This man has done nothing but make you happy since he came back.

“You want a drink?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze, “I bought that wine you used to like drinking, although thinking about it now we were young so your tastebuds have probably matured.”

You giggle and follow him inside, “They definitely haven’t, is it the white one that we used to drink out of the bottle against the tree?”

He nods as he leads you to the kitchen, dipping into the fridge to pull it out. It is indeed the exact same brand of wine you’d get drunk on together when he was still around, “You want a glass, or shall we drink it like old times?”

“Old times,” You reply with a smile as he undoes the screw top, “Can we sit outside?”

He’s taking the first swig from the wine, pulling the same face he used to all those years ago, as he motions for you to head out to the back porch. You always loved this ranch at dusk. The way the sun set and bathed everything in gentle orange light, the fact there was no noise from the town to distract you, the sound of the crickets chirping. It was peaceful.

Javi settles onto the bench, and you sit across from him, he leans his arm across the back of the bench and moves his head to tell you he wants you closer, so you shift your body to lean against his chest, head placed on his shoulder. You hope he doesn’t catch the discomfort when you lean too hard onto your arm and shift slightly, but if he does, he’s not mentioned it, instead, he’s passing you the wine which you take a drink from.

“You sounded upset on the phone, querida, are you sure you’re okay?”

You take another drink before you pass it back to him, “Ethan came home last night,” You’re speaking as you look into the distance, “Guess I just realized how much I enjoy it when he’s away.”

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, bringing his hand to your arm to squeeze him into his side, it’s stings as he grips to the sore skin from earlier, but you think you manage to play it off, “What can I do to help?”

He takes a long drink of the wine and then hands it back to you, watching intently as you do the same before you place the half-empty bottle on the floor, “Just kiss me Javi,” You speak, “Make me forget about it for a while.”

“You want me to just kiss you, querida?” He asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “Or do you want more?”

You shift to look him in the eye, “I want it all Javi,” You lean up to press a chaste kiss to his lips pulling away before he can take more, “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

He untangles himself from you and stands up before he stretches out his hand for you take, he must see the confusion on your face because he’s talking again, “If you’ve been waiting then I’m not going to fuck you on the porch, querida, come on.”

You slip your hand into his and then he’s dragging you through the house and up the stairs. He opens the door to his room, which you don’t really take in, he’s motioning his hand for you to sit on the bed, which you do.

He walks over to you and pushes your chin up with one of his fingers. He’s looming over you and if this was anyone else it would make you feel uncomfortable, but he’s looking at you like you were about to give him the world, before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips softly to your own. In the back of your mind you can feel him unbuttoning the front of your cardigan, it’s a relief because it’s so fucking warm in here, he’s pulling back from your mouth to push it off and then he stops. He’s not pulled it all the way off, the material bunching in the crook of your elbow because he’s seen. He’s seen the marks on your arms. Perfect red indentations of fingertips.

He's kneeling in front of you now, between your thighs, as he takes one arm in his hand, “Did he do this to you?”

“Javi please…” You beg him.

“Did he do this to you?” He asks again, slower and with a register that tells you he isn’t messing around, you nod at him, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

He’s standing like he’s going to get in his car and do it. You grab at his wrist, “Javi please, don’t,” You pull him back to you, “It was my fault.” You say softly, just like you had to Gabriela.

“This?!” He’s back on his knees again, clutching at your arm, “This is never your fault, do you understand me?” He’s looking into your eyes again, then he softens, “It doesn’t matter what you did, you don’t deserve this.”

“Please, will you just come back to me,” You plead, taking his face in your hands, “I need to forget him, just for tonight.”

In the back of his mind he knows it’s not right, it’s just a distraction, and all he really wants is to know what’s going on, but the way your eyes are pleading with him, he can’t say no, “Only if you promise to talk to me after?”

“I promise.” You reply almost immediately, and then he’s crowding you, he’s settling between your thighs but this time his lips are on yours and it’s overwhelming.

You widen your legs as your mouth opens to him, tongues mixing together. You can taste the cheap wine and the cigarettes he swears he’s trying to give up on. He can taste a sweetness he’s never felt before when he’s kissed a woman. It fast and it’s messy, and you don’t understand why you’re moaning into his mouth when he’s not really touched you. Without breaking the kiss, he’s moving, you’re pushed back onto the bed and he’s settled between your thighs, and then he’s pulling his mouth from yours to trail hot, wet kisses over your throat.

God, he wants to sink his teeth into your skin. Wants to mark you so that when you go home, he knows, knows that there’s someone out there who’s going to cherish you until his dying breath, going to protect you from men like him. He knows better, knows that you’ll be going home alone and any mark on your body would mean more marks from him, and Javi doesn’t think he can bare the fact that it’ll be his fault, so he sticks to kisses. He can feel your hands on his shoulders, sinking in through the material of his shirt and he wants more.

He's pushing himself back from you, taking a moment to take his shirt off before his attention is back at you. You’re spread out on his bed, hair splayed out underneath you and the look in your eyes almost makes him cry. It’s admiration, that he’s sure of, but there’s something else in your eyes too, maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s happiness, he doesn’t know, but he isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him like that.

“God you’re beautiful, Javi.” You whisper as he leans back down to you.

The feeling of your cool hands on his hot skin electrifies him, and he can feel his hands working your tank top up to expose the skin of your tummy. You lift yourself up a little so he can take it all the way off before he continues the trail of his lips over your collarbone and down between the dip in your breasts. He’s gently moving the straps of your bra down and takes the opportunity to undo the clasp at the back when you arch up into him. It’s discarded to the floor without a second thought and then his mouth is on you again.

He uses the flat of his tongue to run hot stripes over your peaked nipple, whilst his fingers take the other peaked bud and starts rolling it between them. A whine drops from your lips, and you can feel him smiling into your skin and you arch up into him. He’s taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking and then using the tip of his tongue to run circle around it and all your head can think is how much you want his mouth doing just this further down your body.

“You tell me what you like, querida,” He mumbles into your skin, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Your mouth,” You breathe out, head thrown back as he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth, “I need… fuck… I need it lower, Javi.”

He’s lifted his lips from your tits and you’re moving your head to meet his eyes and he genuinely looks hungry. Like a man starved, with a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want me to eat your pussy, hmm?”

He’s pushed himself back on his knees and for a split second before he’s pulling at your shorts to take them off, you can see he’s half-hard under his own denim. You’ve barely touched him, and this is how he is? It’s got pride swelling in your chest.

He makes quick work of your shorts, throwing them to the ground along with your underwear. He takes a second to look at you, spread out and bare for him, and he thinks that if he died right now, he would die a happy man having seen you like this. He takes his thumb and runs it gently along the seam of your pussy, watching as your eyes close and you let out a breath.

Javi stands briefly before he’s dropping to his knees on his floor. His hands are on either side of your hips, dragging you forward. He pulls you with such force that you bump your thigh into his face, but he’s not complaining. You expect him to tease you, but it turns out that he’s been waiting just as long as you have for this. He wastes no time in using the entire flat of his tongue to lick a hot, wet stripe from the bottom of your pussy to the top, which has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. He could listen to you make those noises for him all fucking day.

One of his hands moves from your hips, he uses it to spread your pussy before he makes the same motion with his tongue as before but focusing its entirety on your clit. You think you might see stars. Once he’d started, he doesn’t stop. Spurred on by the obscenity dropping from your lips like, fuckjavi that’s so fucking good, and please don’t stop, he’s eating your pussy like it’s his death row meal. He’s lapping at the slick that gathers at your entrance, he’s suckling on your clit, or flicking it with the tip of his tongue, but it’s when he pushes two of his thick fingers inside you that you’re truly coming undone.

You’re bucking your hips up into his mouth, grinding down on his fingers and then it’s all coming undone with that bright burst of pleasure you hadn’t felt in years. You can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers, and you can hear him suckling your clit through the aftershocks as your legs shake around his head. He slips his fingers out of you and finishes with one chaste kiss to your clit before he’s pulling at your arm to sit you up.

You’re jelly until he kisses you. You can taste yourself on his mouth, sweet and sour with the mix of his cigarettes and it’s intoxicating. You can feel his slick fingers on your thigh as he uses it as a crutch to push himself off the floor. When he stands, his groin is right in your eyeline and now he’s not half-hard. Fuck, he’s bulging. You watch as his hands undo his belt and tear it through the loops of his jeans before he’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans right in front of your face. He steps back a little to let the remainder of his clothes pool on the floor, but then he’s stepping out of them and back towards you and you can’t help but reach out and take his cock in your hand.

You look up at him, head thrown back with his eyes closed in pleasure. Your name drops from his lips as you continue working him with your hand, you’re just about to take him into your mouth when he speaks, “How do you want me?”

It’s a crime that he’s making you choose because fuck, you want him in every way. You want him to fold you in half and pound into you, you want him to take you from behind whilst he uses his fingers on your clit, you want him to wake you up in the morning with kisses to your neck whilst he buries himself inside you from the side.

“Can I ride you?” You ask quietly.

“Querida, there’s a gun downstairs,” He speaks, settling himself down on his bed on his back, before he’s guiding you to straddle his hips, “If I ever say no to that, I want you to use it on me, okay?”

You’re laughing, because it’s dramatic, but it cuts the tension with a knife. You’re both still laughing to each other when you’re shifting your hips and using your hand to line him up with your tight heat. He’s big, there’s no beating around the bush here, and as you sink down slowly onto him, his hands on your hips to guide you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so full.

You’re throwing your head back and breathing out his name as he bottoms out, hearing a similar moan from him as you start grinding your hips. He’s using his hands on your hips to guide you and the friction inside of you in addictive. You think if you could spend the rest of your days like this then you would give up everything to do so.

“Fuck, hermosa, you look fucking incredible like this.” Javi purrs from underneath you, it makes your heart swell because no-one ever said things like this to you before.

You continue to grind against him until he’s holding your hips still and bringing his knees up, settling them against your backside. He lifts you up a little off his cock, with a strength you’d never witnessed before, and then he’s fucking up into you, cock punching as deep into you as you think you can take it, his balls slapping against your ass.

“Ohmygod, fuck Javi,” You’re squealing, putting your hands on top of his knees to keep you steady, “I think you’re… oh god… I think you’re gonna make me cum again.”

You look down and he’s looking up at you, grinning like a devil, because he’s got you so close to the edge, cock hitting a spot within you that feels like heaven and hell mixed into one, “Go on, querida, come for me.”

His husky voice is what does it. You’re clenching down on him as you call out his name. His hands on your hips keeping you upright as dark spots cloud your vision, “God, what I wouldn’t give to hear that every second of the day.” He groans as he flips you onto your back in one smooth move.

He’s still buried deep inside you, one hand brushing sweat-soaked hair from you face, the other gripping to your ass as he lifts your hips to meet him. He’s slowed but you can tell from the way his hips stutter into your own that he’s close.

“Where do you want me?” He whispers into your ear.

Everywhere, is what you want to say. Paint me, cover me, mark me as yours, is all you can think. What you say is, “Wherever you want.”

You think you see his mouth open to answer you, but it’s too late. He’s pulling out of you, fisting his cock two, three times, and then he’s painting your skin with his spend. Thick ropes of cum cover your tummy as he's growling into your ear, collapsing next to you when he’s given you everything he’s got.

When you lie there next to him, his cum drying on your abdomen, his mouth still kissing at the skin of your neck, you think you should feel guilty. Guilty that you broke your vows, guilty that you’ve let a man other than your husband touch you. Guilty that you did so without a second thought. Guilty that he didn't once cross your mind. There isn’t an ounce of guilt within you. You lean into his kisses and thank the Lord for bringing him back, for bringing him back to you, because you know this right here? This is happiness.

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year

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Thirsty Frank hours? Well, perfect time to send this.

Imagine... you've always been a little insecure (weight, looks, whatever) and have a particularly hard day. Frank senses your distress and want to make you feel better.

And ehm... He does make you feel reeeealy good 😏

Can just imagine him being so soft, tender, talking you through it and just... God, just being wrapped in his arms 🫠❤️

|| Reminder ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: readers insecurities, soft supportive Frank, fingering, p in v unprotected sex.

A/n: thank you so very much for this ask @munsonownsmyass I've read so many mirror sex fics but I thought fuck it, I wanted to do my own with Frank! I swear this man talking sense into you in that rough and sweet way he has would fix me forever.

You're barely in the door, late getting back, having had an absolute shitter of a day and feeling like you just want to curl up in bed and cry about it. Frank’s already home and waiting for you, you don't even need to say anything. He knows you, inside and out. He can tell when the crushing weight of your thoughts is dragging you down and he can help lighten them.

Still, you turn away as his eyes meet yours, darkest brown and always so penetrating, stripping you bare. Sometimes you think you can't face him when you're like this, but then he sidles up next to you, his hand curling around the back of your head and holding you as he plants a light kiss on your forehead and the barriers you're ready to put up crumble.

"Hey, c'mere and tell me what's wrong." His fingers stroke over your hair and you lean against him burying your face into the soft brushed cotton of his hoodie. He smells like home and although it doesn't lift your heavy mood entirely, it helps. Frank wraps you in his arms letting you decompress a little before he'll press you any further. He leans down, laying a peck on your cheek before he guides you to sit down with him on the couch.

"It's just-" you want to tell him but it suddenly all seems stupid as the words are forming in your mouth. Frank is watching you patiently, his gaze soft and open as he lets you take all the time you need.

You sigh and try again. "We were trying on outfits, the girls and I, for Marci's wedding… and the others, they looked so beautiful and effortlessly gorgeous in everything, and I-"

You pull at a fraying thread of your sleeve and huff, angry at yourself as tears begin to well in your eyes.

"Baby, you look gorgeous in everything too."

You sit up, shaking your head. "No I don't. I just look like I'm playing dress up with my mom's clothes or something. I hate the way everything looks on me, I hate how I feel. Like everyone's staring at me because I look so dumb…"

Frank's brow forms into a deep furrow as you berate yourself, he won't stand for that shit.

"Hey, where's all this coming from? You're fuckin' beautiful darlin', I say it all the damn time but you gotta know it's the truth."

He pulls you onto his lap, gently wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

"Th-they just all seem so strong and don't give a shit what people think. I can't do that, I don't know how. I've never liked how I look, or felt confident or anything… urgh, and now I'm just whining to you about it like a pathetic idiot! I'm sorry, I shouldn't- I'll go away..."

You go to get up from him but he gently clasps his hand around your wrist.

"If you wanna be alone that's okay I'll let you be, but I've got somethin' I need to show you sweetheart, if you'll let me."

You look at him, confused about what he could want to show you. He's got those big pleading puppydog eyes trained on you but underneath there's something else…

"W-what?"

He stays close to you as he rises, taking your hand in his, leading you to your bedroom and standing you opposite the wardrobe mirror in front of him.

"Oh, Frank, no please…" You cringe, turning away from your reflection but he catches you in his arms, reassuring you as he urges you to face yourself.

"Baby, I need you to see what I see." He strokes the back of his knuckles down the outside of your arm, his other hand around your waist and his head resting lightly in the space between your neck and shoulder. His lips brush a kiss to the bare skin revealed by your loose sweater.

"Look at this woman I got." He begins, and you can see him looking at all of you. Eyes flickering over every inch of you as if you were naked in front of him. "She's a goddess."

You roll your eyes, body sagging in his hold. "No she isn't."

Frank stares you down in the mirror. "You callin' me a liar?" He actually seems slightly hurt as you sigh again, then a dark look of determination crosses his features. You know you're in for it now, whatever it is.

“What I see right here in front of me, is the strongest, most confident woman that I ever laid eyes on. You see that girl taking any shit from me? Baby, all those assholes I take down in the Kitchen, they ain’t got nothin’ on you, I ain’t scared of them, but you… Christ, you’ve got me whipped.”

He holds you around the waist, his big hands warm through your clothes as his lips graze your ear. "You think you don’t look good? I’m tellin’ you, you look goddamn fucking gorgeous to me just the way you are, wearin’ what you’re wearin’.”

His tone drops an octave as he moves his hands down and hooks his fingers under the hem of your sweater, pulling it up over your head. “An’ you look good not wearin’ anything at all too…”

His fingers trail down the bare sides of your ribcage as you bring your arms back down, wrapping them around yourself. You try to shy away as his fingers come up to trace your collarbone and slowly down the cup of your bra, unraveling your arms and placing them down by your sides exposing you as he goes.

“Fuck, look at you sweetheart, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I'm thinkin' that my baby girl needs a little reminder..."

You bite on your bottom lip as he drifts his hands to the button of your pants, undoing it and pulling the zip down slow like he’s unwrapping a precious gift. His fingers tease at the waistband of your panties as you feel the hardening shape of his cock pressed up through his jeans against your ass.

"Mm, yeah that's all you." He says, his gruff voice driving straight down to your core as he works your pants off down your legs and helps you step out of them.

"That’s what you do to me… and this ass?" His hands are all over you as he marks your soft flesh with his teeth while he's down there, making you gasp as he kisses and soothes over it and continues placing adoring kisses up over the curve of your ass cheek as he works his way up your spine.

"Frank…"

"You want me to stop?" He asks you quietly, laying another soft kiss as he reaches the base of your neck.

You glance at the two of you in the mirror. This terrifying beast of a man to most is curled around your body, holding you, touching you, intent on showing you how much he adores you. Were you going to let your insecurities get in the way of that?

"No." You commit. Deep down you know that you need this.

He nods and unzips his hoodie, taking both it and his t-shirt off revealing the canvas of scars littering his massive upper body. His own imperfections that you can never see as such. He unhooks your bra, sliding the straps down over your shoulders, following on one side with his mouth letting it drop from your arms to the floor. A sweet warmth builds within at the sensation of his skin against yours. That basic, unshakable thought that Frank is your home.

He feels the softening in you, the corner of his mouth pulling up a little as he runs his hands up the outsides of your thighs, over your hips and stomach. One hand smoothes up your chest to gently cup one of your breasts, while the other moves south, cupping your sex through your underwear. Your eyes half-close as you let him take you over.

"There's my girl." He growls as he slips his hand beneath the thin cotton of your panties, fingertips meeting the slick pooling of your arousal there. He slides his fingers through your folds, spreading the moisture around before taking your ruined underwear off and sitting down on the edge of the bed with his legs spread wide, still facing the mirror. He lifts you onto his lap like you weigh nothing, the muscles in his arms are thick and prominent, and god if that doesn't turn you on even more.

You watch as he parts your legs, placing them on the outside of his own. He drags his fingers along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, up and up to circle around the apex of them, and you're unable to draw your eyes away from the glistening of your own exposed cunt as he touches you there. Your breathing picks up, becoming shallow while he simultaneously runs a finger and thumb over your hardening nipples, playing with and gently pinching at them. A smile spreads on his gorgeous lips as a small moan leaves your throat, your body arching, your leg muscles twitching and the throbbing pulse behind your clit ever growing with the slow pass of his talented fingers.

"That's it beautiful," He praises, his stubble scratching along the side of your face as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. He dips his middle finger into your soaking entrance, reveling in the sweet sounds you make as he pushes it slow, in and out of your pussy.

Your own hand covers his on your breast, urging him to squeeze and grope. He's rock hard underneath you now and you're getting so wet that you're soaking into the crotch of his jeans, but even so, he's intent on concentrating solely on your pleasure.

He takes his fingers away and you look up, bereft, only to see him bring them up to his mouth to suck your juices from them. You've almost forgotten how you got here.

"Taste so good baby, you know I can't ever get enough of you." He pushes two fingers inside you this time, encouraging your loud moans along with his gentle kisses up the side of your neck.

"You seein' what I'm seein' now?" he drawls, looking at your reflection. “My strong, powerful, gorgeous lady makin’ me weak for her?”

He’s a fucking liar, you think, your mouth starting to stretch into a satisfied smile. Frank Castle would give you the world if he could, you don’t make him do anything he doesn't want to. That thought gives you momentary pause, he wants you. He has always wanted you, right from the beginning.

"Fuck Frank, you always, -uhh, know exactly what to say… mmm!" You whimper and moan as he fucks you so slowly and lovingly with his fingers. He kisses and mouths at that spot just below your ear as he curls them, searching for that place inside you that will shatter you into a thousand pieces.

"It's just the truth, baby."

He's watching you in the mirror the whole time. Your eyes meet his and you reach a hand back to grasp him behind his neck, your fingertips scratching at the fuzz of short hair there while the fingers of your other hand grip and dig into the muscles of his thick thigh, nails probably bruising his skin through the denim.

His other hand leaves the plush flesh of your breast to massage the pearl of your clit and you move counter to his ministrations, bucking your hips in time with the steady rhythm he sets.

"Attagirl, take what you need, princess." The low timbre of his voice feels like another caress and has your eyes almost fluttering shut as you let him worship you. You see the way he looks at you in the mirror, enraptured by your body writhing in his arms, those dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your pleasure.

"More, Frank," it's not a request. His breath matches yours as he works to bring you to a climax. You're beautiful, stunning, my fuckin' wildest dream in all his hushed, gasped words of praise spoken against your heated skin. Your legs shake when he adds a third finger, slick, wet and noisy as he pumps them firmly. Both your lips and legs part wider as you can feel the tangled knot deep within you about to blissfully unravel. Your clit feels so sensitive and the way his finger glides and flicks over it is maddening, it's right on the edge of wanting to push him away, but Frank won't stop for anything.

"Oh! Frank, god- oh fuck-"

"Yeah that's it baby. Please darlin', let me see you." Frank Castle doesn't plead for anyone other than you.

It hits you then, coming in his lap with absolute and pure pleasure bursting through your core and spreading out in pulses through the rest of your shuddering, sweat-sheened body. Frank's mouth roves over your neck and the side of your face until you turn to meet it with your own, tongues sliding against each other as you reach your climax. He doesn't stop, only slowing down to let you ride out the thick satisfying waves that follow.

You could lie back in his arms like this for the rest of the night but you're desperate to thank him. Of course he protests, says he doesn't need taking care of but when you get up and turn around, unbuckle that belt, ease him out of his pants and take him inside you he's the one at your mercy.

You wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders, face to face now, every little sign of his deep love for you written there so plainly. The dark black of his expanded pupils as they lock on yours, the slight curl of his lip as he grunts, swears almost every curse he knows as you ride him. It's barely half a dozen frantic thrusts of your hips until he's spilling inside you with an unguarded moan, his fingers pressing into the flesh around your hips and your foreheads pressed together as you both struggle to catch your breath.

He falls back on the bed and you go along with him. All of your hangups are forgotten as you lie together, basking in the afterglow with his arms around you.

He kisses you on the top of your head. It's such a simple gesture but it makes your heart swell.

"You need any more reminding of just how amazin' you are? Just gotta give me a few minutes and I'll do it all goddamn night."

You smile wide, softly shaking your head. "You did a pretty good job of that Frank, but the moment I need you I'll be sure to let you know."

"That's right. I'm always here for you baby. You just tell me and I'll do whatever I can to help, alright?"

You nod and your lips brush his shoulder in a kiss. "Thank you, I mean it. You're so good to me."

He squeezes you tight. "How about we go get cleaned up and I'll order us some pizza for dinner. That sound good?"

Frank tags (as always, let me know if you want added/removed): @divinearchangel @saintmurd0ck @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @hellskitchenswhore @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @shedaresthedevil @freshabogados @father4giveme @stress--relief @e-dubbc11 @whistle1whistle @tea-and-wine @emiemiemiii @imherefordeanandbones @realfernmayo @munsonownsmyass @marvelswh0re @frankcastlescumslut @chellestrash @chvoswxtch @messymissy @evilbubu @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @anna-hawk

#frank castle fanfic #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #the punisher/reader #the punisher smut #the punisher fluff #frank castle fluff

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midnightblues444 · 1 year

Text

Erato |

Apollo!Geto x muse! Reader

Summary: the best way to get over artist block is to find a new source of inspiration

Content warnings: really rushed, suggestive

Muses, goddesses of the arts and embodiments of poetry, art and music, linked closely with the God of music Apollo and anything to do with art. Creativity ran through your veins, as a muse you were created to create.

At least you're supposed to,

With a loud crashing sound, yet another canvas has been thrown against the marble tile, and you let out a groan of utter frustration. You feel like tearing your hair out at this point with the way your works are coming out. The frustration settles in your bones while you scan the littered floor for another blank canvas to start on.

"What ever is the matter?" Another muse hurrys into your studio, looking frantic, gawking at the state of your space. "Don't worry, I'm just frustrated, my work is not going my way" you sigh out, fixing your set up. She half heartedly helps you neaten the easel, she picks up stray art pieces , studying them briefly.

"Well maybe you just need a change in inspiration, it's what works for me" she suggests, noticing how the past works all look somewhat the same. All being of nude women in gardens or on couches sitting prettily.

You think about it, looking at your failed creations, nodding slowly. Your fellow muse smiles,gently touching your shoulder "make sure to clean this mess up, Geto-sama will be here any minute for his visit" she says and makes her way out.

When Geto comes for visits, the other muses end up in a frenzy. Swarming him excitedly, showing off the art they've created bickering for his attention. Geto Suguru better known as Apollo did have something about him that caused such a fret, his presence alone even makes you want to impress him, absent mindedly holding your breath in hopes of his praises.

You know he's here by the sounds of the excited squeals coming from down the hall, opting to stay in your studio a bit longer to atleast start with thinking up a new piece.

---

His Dark robes loose around his torso and hips, he warmly smiles at everyone he greets. Personalised greetings laced with the familiarity between him and the muses, shows the genuine relationship Geto has with his muses. That's probably why he picks up on your absence so quickly.

"And where is Y/n?" He asks warmly, when everyone had settled. "Oh y/n's been having creative block, so probably still in the studio", Geto nods and makes his way to you, he knows he could've waited for you to greet him in your own time but Geto has always been undeniably drawn to you.

His touches lingering a little longer, his gaze never faltering while you speak to him, he never put much action in his apparent infatuation especially because you never noticed it. So hes kept it somewhat friendly

The sound of the doors opening snapped you from your daze. You fight the urge of lashing out at the blank canvas staring back at you, directing your attention to the person at the door.

"Geto-sama" you gasped, standing abruptly in greeting. He smiles fondly, "and hello to you too" he teases, you smile at the taunt.

"I never pegged you for the messy type" he motions at the state of your studio, you feel a sudden wave of self consciousness fill your cheeks, embarrassed you laugh lightly. "I've been having... issues"

"So I've been told" he steps closer to you and your easel, bending to view your canvas his eyebrows knitting together at the sight. "I was advised to change my subject matter but I'm unsure as to what," you stumble trying to explain why the canvas was blank.

He hums in response standing up right, his fingers gently lift your chin to look up at him, his eyes glow with a mischievous glint that you cant quite place.

"Why don't you paint me instead hm?"

Your breath hitches and you find yourself nodding quickly, agreeing, he smiles.

What exactly was happening to you, your body is reacting to the simple phrase in a way you've never seen, you've painted people before, on that very couch infact, so why does your head feel like its spinning. Before you could catch up, he's sliding onto the couch and unclipping the bun that half way held his hair up , he slips out of his robes keeping a mere pieces of cloth between your gaze and his manhood.

You blinked hazily as he leaned over the arm of the couch on his forearms, raven strands sliding past his bare shoulders. You hastily grab hold of your paint brush, nervously glancing between him and the canvas.

"Geto-sama, could you maybe move to the right?" You break the silence, he shifts but you still dont like the pose. Shyly you stand, moving to him, kneeling to the level of the couch silently motioning to ask for permission to touch him.

"Go ahead I'm yours to move,"

You should have hesitated more, when your fingers grazed his cheek making him face a different direction, cupping his face, glancing at his lips, noticing your proximity.You both didn't expect the kiss that followed, shocked by yourself you pull away.

"Kiss me again" he says calmly, hesitantly you pull him in again, the kiss starts tentative but grows more with want. Your hands rest on his shoulders running your finger tips on his skin, his fingers are tangled in your hair, panting he moves from your lips to your neck, your soft breathless moans get louder as the desperation becomes more apparent.

"God.." he groans into your neck, "I should have done this sooner" pulling you on his lap with ease, you can feel him through the cloth and suddenly you realize what's happening.

"Geto-sama slow down.." you whimper, lips ghosting over his “we can drop the formalities, yeah?” he suggests slyly.

“Yeah” you sigh in response, briefly kissing him again intoxicated by how he hikes your drapery to your waist. Moving himself to be aligned with your entrance.

Everything you knew about art was that it was an expression of oneself, unpredictable and raw, that was art. This feeling, this experience to you can be equated to an art form itself, so you try clearly visualise what it would look like as a painting.

But you're too focused on the feeling of Suguru filling you up, feeling fuzzy, and drunk on him instead you try ingraining this feeling deep into your memory. In hopes your body and mind dont forget, so you can capture it later. But thinking about if you somehow forget this feeling, you wouldn’t mind a little reminder. You cant help but wonder..

...This counts as new inspiration right?

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #getou suguru #geto x reader #geto thirsts #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #going insane #geto bae #geto simp #getou x reader #geto x you #jjk au #greek myhtology

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coweye · 1 year

Text

Commitment Issues - Part 8

Pairing: Benjamin Miller x Reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: When you try and take your friends with benefits relationship to the next level, Benny’s response isn’t quite what you were expecting.

AN: So I lied - I'm so sorry for the wait! Recently, writing hasn't come as easy to me and although it's almost a year late I hope you enjoy, this isn't the final chapter - I lied twice.

➢ fic masterpost

PREVIOUS PART

28th April 2022 - 37 weeks pregnant

Life playing host to the parasite that was soon to be your daughter had only gotten worse. Hard to believe, I know.

The gift that kept on giving made sure that you’d suddenly without any warning whatsoever have the overwhelming urge to vomit.

There was no rhyme or reason to her neat new little party trick but at any given moment your stomach said nope and you bought up whatever you happened to have eaten or as the case may be; be eating at the time.

Honestly, you weren’t a negative person by nature, but these agonizing eight months had taken it out of you.

Hell, you were in the process of drafting an eviction notice if this kid didn’t get out of you in the next two weeks.

Long story short, between this and the Benny situation you were not exactly the best of company, right now.

The boys and Val had all learnt this early on and for the past eight days, you had given up all pretense of a brave face, now you were bleeding and letting everyone who would listen know about it.

When Santiago, who had decided to stay in town until the birth of your baby, suggested a stroll around the mall, you had fixed him with the stare that would have had a lesser man running back to Colombia with his tail between his legs. Until, of course, he had sweetened the deal with fried chicken, his treat and coincidentally the only meal that you had yet to regurgitate.

So, here you found yourself with Santiago and William and a six piece bucket to yourself.

The change in company was a welcome distraction from dwelling on your non-existent love life at home with the love of your life.

After the thorn in your side that was Jasmine, reared her ugly head at the baby shower, you had pulled back into your protective bubble of distant and cold.

Benny, though confused about the message, received it loud and clear as he returned to the swing to find you inside and talking incredibly heatedly to Valerie. In the eight days that followed, he yet to confront you about it. Apparently old habits died hard..

The camaraderie that had come hand in hand with your truce had dissolved. You weren’t actively unpleasant, but you didn’t melt into his side, or nap on the couch with him anymore.

You had established boundaries, resolving yourself to the simple philosophy of anything you wouldn’t do with Frankie, you wouldn’t do with Ben.

It was simple… well kind of, every one of your moves was carefully calculated and exhausting.

For example, lying on the couch watching a movie with a leg rub? Acceptable.

Frankie would do that for your swollen ankle joint, hell, he had done.

However, lying on the couch with his body sandwiched against yours as you fall asleep, the hardness of him pressed into your backside; well… that was quite clearly a no, but I digress!

Boundaries were established and what almost was, had been completely and totally healthily avoided at all costs, creating the exact tenuous home environment you'd spent so long trying to avoid.

So, here you found yourself in the food court, slamming some fried chicken trying desperately to forget your woes.

“She’s too clingy…” Santi huffed in between a bite of his burger, talking mostly to Will as you had yet to peak up from behind your bucket.

“Maybe she just likes you and wants to spend time with you, god forbid someone shows interest.” You grunted irritably between bites, looking for a fight.

Both men turned to you in surprise, the whites of their eyes visible as they feared your outburst.

Santiago strategically paused as he searched for the right words before he began to speak again.

“You’re right … Maybe I’m too harsh.” Pope placated as he fixed you with a look of reproach, however, that only served to enrage you further.

He watched for your reaction as if you were an angry bear or a child throwing a tantrum. Truth be told, you weren’t strictly unlike either of those things at that precise moment.

Your brows narrowed, ready to unload and tell him all the reasons he was a dick before a cramping pain in your bloated abdomen overwhelmed you. Your eyes clenched shut as you breathed heavily through your nose, your ringed fingers gripped at the circular table in pain.

It was impossible for you to judge how long went by before the pain finally passed.

You took a further second or two to even your breathing before you resumed eating, succinctly dropping the subject that had injected fire into your veins merely moments before.

With a fry in your mouth, you glanced up to find both men watching you.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you okay?” They questioned in unison.

A moment passed as you swallowed your mouthful before you concisely answered your comrades. “I’m pretty sure I’m going into labor.”

“And … you don’t think we should be actively doing something about that?” Santiago pressed, looking as if he was ready to bolt.

“Labor can take hours and I won't be able to eat once it gets going…” You shrug, picking up another piece of chicken.

“What’s wrong with you?” Pope breathed, eyes wide before he palmed in his eye sockets in frustration, attempting to rub the stress you induced away.

Will had dragged his chair to your side, his eyes focused on his watch.

“Don’t worry so much… the book said until they're ten minutes apart … there’s no point going … to the hospital!” You explain in between bites of greasy chicken.

Your words do little to quell their panic as both men look as if they're ready to pull their hair out with worry.

“I’ll ring Ben.” Santi groaned as he stood up and reached into his jacket pocket before fishing out his phone. He turned dramatically with a finger pointed in your general direction. “You get her to hurry up - I swear to god, Y/N. If you’re eating when I get back, pregnant or not, I’ll drag you to that car. You’re not having your baby in the damn food court… estúpida, obstinada…” The man continued grunting curses at your expenses as he stalked off for somewhere quiet with cell reception to call the father of your child.

The silence that extended all of three minutes was too good to be true as Will watched your face as you ate for any sign of distress.

“Whilst giving Pope a coronary is always a good time… don’t you think we should go and get your bag and meet Ben?” Will’s voice was soft, the kind of soothing tone you’d seen him use to talk down shell shocked soldiers - it was both unassuming and laced with copious amounts of compassion.

You’d be damned if it didn’t just piss you right off.

With a quick shake of your head, you dropped the empty bone into the bucket with the rest of the carcasses and took a long sip of your drink.

“I’m good here … I can meet you guys there if you like?”

The pinch in his brow was quite simply incredulous, his concern was quickly outweighing his patience.

“If you think I’m leaving you both here, you’re insane.”

Chewing on the straw of your drink; your eyes locked with his. They were brimming with a concoction of confusion and concern, which if the clench in his jaw was anything to go by, was slowly morphing into exasperation at your lack of compliance.

“I … just need some time.”

“Y/N. All you’ve spoken about for the past week is how you want this to be over, wish granted - she’s coming and she’s coming now.”

“That’s what he said…” You uttered half-heartedly under your breath as you broke eye contact, no longer able to face his look of bewilderment.

On the red tray in front of you was a lemon scented wet wipe hidden among napkins and sauces, you tore open the former and gratuitously began scrubbing the grease off of your hands, actively ignoring the perplexed stare of one of your closest friends.

“Y/N, we need to get moving… will you just stop and listen?” Will snapped finally as he grabbed the wipe from your grip as you passed over your digits for the third time.

Your own patience had reached its end as his hand gripped your elbow, his intention to make good on Santiago’s threat and drag you out, clear and present in your mind.

The devil in question was making his way back to your table, all quick strides as he dodged the food courts clientele.

You wrenched your arm from his grip huffing in annoyance at the well meaning Miller.

“Fine. Let's go and get my bag, maybe we can grab an iced tea on the way to the car…”

Will nodded but you knew the mother hen would never allow a diversion from the mission at hand.

All was going well.

You were compliant as you strode through the mall, both men flanking you like a high priority asset as you clambered into Santi’s rental truck.

Hell, you were goddamn amenable as you unlocked your front door and grabbed the hospital duffel bag from the cubby under the stairs.

However, your cooperation waned somewhat when heading to the maternity ward as the guys tried to wheel your chair past the hospital's Starbucks.

Your palm, lightening fast, caught the break on the chair causing it to veer left right into Santiago’s shins.

“Ice Tea!”

“You’ve got a baby about to shoot out of your hoo-hah and you're stopping for tea?!” Santi huffed incredulously as he rubbed his shin.

“My contractions are 25 minutes apart, when they’re 15, I’ll consider joining the panicking cry baby club.”

“Panicking baby- huh!” Santi huffed rubbing his forehead. “You are not well, Y/N/N! You’re having a baby - Go and have it and then I’ll bathe you in fucking tea!”

“I’ll come back down and grab you one-” Will placated before Santi bent to remove the break on the chair, allowing Will to move all of two steps, before you slammed it back on, the rubber tyres screeched against the tile floor of the hospital lobby.

“Tea. First.” You huffed much like a troublesome child.

This time it was Will who leaned down to remove the break, having clearly decided you weren’t in your right mind.

So, you did the only thing you could; you threw your baby bag off of your lap.

“Y/N, stop being a goddamn child!” Will huffed, you had clearly pushed him to the edge, not that it had been particularly hard.

Ignoring him, you began to stand. They both watched on in horror as you slowly ambled your way to the end of the queue.

Leaning against the drinks fridge, you sighed.

Your spine was aching something awful. The poor timing of this kid resumed as a contraction wracked your body, sharper than the others, it felt longer but you had no way to be sure.

Will was at your side the second it overcame your body.

“Twenty minutes apart, please, Y/N. Come on.”

When finally the pain dissipated, your aching back remained. You weren’t proud of the weight you were placing on Will but the floor was the only other option.

“y/n?! … Y/N!” You heard Benny hollar before you saw him, his eyes were wild with panic as he rushed to your side. He patted his brother on the shoulder, before taking his place. “Baby, what are you doing? You need to get into bed.”

“I want… my … tea.” You huffed, breathing not yet evening out.

“Fine, we get the tea and we go straight up. How far apart are they?”

“Twen-”

The gush of amniotic fluid leaving your body cut the older Miller off, soaking through your jeans and unfortunately onto Benny’s shoes.

“You just pissed, she just pissed!” Santi cried in disbelief, his hands an almost permanent fixture in his disheveled curls at this point. It was hard to believe this man was a pressure player.

“It's not piss, it's her waters. We need to go, I’m sorry baby, you can have all the ice tea you want when it's safe for you both.” He bent down and caught your sodden legs, picking you up in one sweep.

If you weren’t currently covered in amniotic fluid, that story book firefighter carry would have set your loins ablaze.

Who were you kidding?

You were absolutely drenched in amniotic fluid and your loins were practically smoking.

Between writhing in pain as your uterus contracted to eject a literal watermelon and lusting over your baby daddy who you had spent the last eight days practically snarling at every time he dared advance, the journey to your delivery suite had been all but a blur.

Somehow all three men surrounded you, having coerced their way through the midwifery staff with their nefarious charm.

“How ya’ doing champ?” Santi questioned as you huffed on the oxygen inhaler handed to you by your midwife. A thumbs up was all you could offer as you groaned through the contractions that were now give or take five minutes apart.

“How about we use a bit of gravity?” The woman in control of the drugs questioned. A suggestion you were only more than happy to try.

Following her instructions and with minor assistance from Ben you were now on all fours, frantically inhaling the gas and air.

“We’re going to need to clear the room, anyone who isn’t the father needs to leave.”

You were so far gone, you didn’t care if they saw the business end of your cervix. All you knew was uncontrollable pain that wracked your body every five minutes like a sadistic egg timer.

Ben wiped at your forehead with a damp towel as tears escaped.

“You can do this, baby.”

“UGNGH.. It feels like I’m shitting a knife!” You cried as another contraction wracked your body.

“Not long now, gorgeous. Then we’ll have our baby.”

“I’m not ready.” You cried burying your face in the reclined back of the bed. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“You are-”

“No. We’re not ready. Things were … supposed to be fixed… I promised her.”

“Wha-”

“I love you, you stupid fucking idiot. I have done for like ten years… loved you from the second I heard your tone deaf ass singing that … crappy hick song on base. Ungh… And everything is so broken because I don’t want you … to just stay for the Bean, I want to be with you … because you want to be with me.” You cried, tears wracking your body as uncontrollably as the contractions.

“It’s all broken… I promised her and I fucked it all up. You … and Jaz can just live happily ever-” You cut yourself off with a low wail as another contraction wracked your body. It seemed to knock Benny out of his stupor as his hand rubbed your lower back.

It was a moment before you leveled out and remembered you were divulging your innermost thoughts but a moment ago, though you couldn’t find it in you to care.

Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

“I love you. Even if you are the goddamn most stubborn fuckin’ idiot I’ve ever met. You're the mama of my baby, yeah. It scares the crap outta me. Loving you. Damn near spent three months thinking up all the reasons we couldn’t be together cause it scared me so bad.” He huffed, stroking your hair. He helped you reposition on your back, as you breathed in another wave of oxygen. “I love you, Y/N. - I don’t do this. I don’t do relationships … because this feeling in my stomach when I think of you is fuckin awful. Sure I get the tingles when you smile at me or stroke my arm. But ninety-nine percent of the time, fucking nightmare, I worry if you’re happy, if you’ve eaten and now we’re adding an whole ass entire other person into this fucking clown show.”

“Gee… thanks.” You huffed in between breaths of gas and air.

Ben chuckled as he pushed the sweat sodden hair back from your brow. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours, the kiss was brief and nowhere near what was needed but it was all you could manage.

It was enough, you thought at that moment.

The promise, that everything wasn’t lost, there was hope ahead, it carried you through.

@sixshooter665 @queenie-b- @rambling-in-purple @anaaaispunk @miraclesabound @kravitzwhorehore @ahsokathearcher @xoxabs88xox @heresathreebee @psychadelichue @marauderskeeper @tanzthompsonn @mermaidxatxheart

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justagirlfr · 20 days

Text

I’d Rather Be Studying the Physics of You

rotb!Mirage x f!reader

summary: reader is struggling with her physics homework and Mirage goes to comfort her. (fluff, comfort)

tw: physics 😔

a/n: this one is pretty self-indulgent, I’ll open requests soon for more one-shots! I’m currently obsessed with rotb- Mirage and Noah specifically.

——————————————————

Mirage is in your room and leaning against one of the walls next to your bed. He's fiddling with your rubix cube- still amazed at how someone came up with this torture device for entertainment. You're working at your desk, a dim lamp the only source of light. Tonight, it's physics that you're struggling with.

"Physics is so stupid, I swear to god," you mumble while trying to work out problem 35 on the review packet your professor gave you. This homework really has you questioning your entire life. "This is so overly complicated and for what."

"Physics can be useful," Mirage says, still focused on the cube. "I mean you use it all the time to fix my parts." He winks at the end of that last sentence and you roll your eyes even though he can't see them, your chair facing away from him and your attention being at the disgusting problems at hand.

"That's like, practical physics though," you sigh. "This is stupid Newton physics."

Mirage momentarily stops twisting the cube's sides. "Isn't all of physics based on Newton physics?"

"I mean, not really, but all of it is the same- stupid and dumb and overcomplicated." You give up on the problem and move on to the next one. Reading the new onslaught of numbers and words, you really feel like throwing up. "Literally what the FUCK is this."

Mirage can sense that you're getting angrier and more frustrated by the minute. Your hands are at the crown of your head, grasping manically at the edges of your hair. "Honey, why don't you give it a break for a second?" He urges. "I think it'd make you feel better."

But you're too far into trying to deduce the obscure answer on your paper. You ignore him angrily and start scribbling wildly on your paper, writing down everything and anything that might be useful in solving this one. "No no no, this won't work, this won't work- you need acceleration for this one, but you don't even have time or distance! Literally what the fuck!" you're getting louder by the minute and it's starting to scare Mirage.

"Love, I know you really want to solve that, but come here for a second," he urges, setting the cube down for a moment and acting genuinely concerned.

"I'm fucking focused just let me try again oh my god-" there are tears brimming your eyes and clouding your vision and you're trying so, so hard to mask your frustration with yourself with anger- but you can't see, everything is spinning and you're just mad, mad at yourself because this should be easy, and why are you so horrible at physics? You're a STEM major for christ sake, how the fuck are you going to make it thorugh the rest of your life if you can't master simple Newtonian physics??? You feel the tears falling now, cascading down your face as you grip your pencil with the most power you possibly can. All the fight immediately leaves you and you give into your sadness. "I swear Mirage, I can't do anything right." You're silently sobbing now, basking in your misery because you've lost it, and you're tired of trying to hold yourself together and combat your inevitable conclusion that you are the stupidest person on Earth. What gave you the confidence to pursue such a field? You couldn't even do basic math. The salty tears smell gross to you, and your face feels disgusting all over. You're so lost in your break-down you almost fail to notice your chair slowly being pulled back and the familiar metal servos circling your body.

"Honey, look at me." Mirage pulls your hands away from your face and gently cradles your face in his hands. "You do a lot of things right."

"No I don't, I can't even do this stupid problem I'm so sick of it, I'm so sick of trying and failing over and over again and it makes me feel so stupid and I am stupid and-"

"No." His grip on your face is tighter and you're forced to shut up. "You are one of the most brilliant, courageous people I know my love. I don’t ever want you to think that you’re not enough, that you can’t do anything.”

You sniffle, and he gently moves his hands to your waist, picking you up from the chair and placing you in his lap where he can properly hold you. He places you on your bed and kneels on the side, looking over at you. You can hear all of his gears shifting as he does so. He presses his left hand to your cheek, caressing it. “You are already perfect. I love you so much and I could not imagine me loving any other version of you that didn’t have the persistence you do. I know you really wanted to get that worksheet over with and done, but come on man, that shit is hard and it’s not your fault you can’t get it on the first try.” He tucks the covers over you. It’s 4AM, and it’s probably for the best that you call it a day.

“I just feel like I suck so much at this, and everyone else is so much better, and I’ll never get a job and it’s just so hopeless.” Some more tears slip out of your eyes, and Mirage wipes them away with a swift caress.

“Oh my love,” he sighs and kisses you gently on your forehead. His lips feel cool and smooth against your soft skin. “It’s going to be okay. All that matters is that you’re trying your best, alright? You’re my girl, remember?”

You nod silently, gazing into his light blue optics as they soften meeting your look. “Yeah,” you sniffle.

“That’s my girl,” he says. He goes to lay down next to you off the bed, and you can hear all of his parts whirring, getting ready to shut down.

“Mirage?” You ask tentatively.  

He gets up immediately to look at you. “Yes, love?”

You look away for a second before saying, “can I sleep on you?”

Mirage giggles and you immediately feel his arms lifting you to lay on top of him. He takes a a blanket in front of the bed and drapes it over you. You’re pressed against his chest and it feels oh so nice. The warmth of his spark makes what would seem to be an uncomfortable thing to lay against actually very cozy. You tilt your head up and kiss his cool lips. He reciprocates, and you can taste the warm metal of his bottom lip. When you pull away, he gives you the most adoring expression ever and you melt into him. “I love you,” he says, without breaking eye contact.

“I love you too,” you give him a smile back.

#mirage #rotb mirage #x reader #mirage x reader #fluff #comfort #transformers rotb #tf rotb #transformers

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sophiesticatedyk · 1 year

Text

She Looks Just Like A Dream || Bruce W. x Reader

Part 2 of "The Prettiest Girl I've Ever Seen" so I hope you guys like this too 🫶

After that encounter, you held a tight grudge on Bruce. Seems immature, yes, but there was something about the man that just infuriated you. Was it the way he made you feel? The way he smirked at you like you were below his level? God, you didn't even know what exactly you hated about him. All you know is, you didn't want to see him again. You told your friend how you didn't want to attend any of Wayne Gala's anymore.

Here you were, walking home as usual and passing the Wayne Manor as your daily path. It was odd, it looked so empty without guests. For a minute, looking at the house, you felt pity for Bruce. How lonely he must be. You shook the thoughts out of your mind, you were supposed to hate him.

With your head clouded with thoughts, you didn't notice the man sneaking up on you. It was too late, he had already grabbed you and you couldn't fight back no matter how hard you tried. The stranger cut off your oxygen by covering your nose and mouth as you started to feel lightheaded, the cloth had chloroform in it.

Slowly panicking, this is bad. Really bad.

-Stay quiet, buttercup. Unless you want to pay the consequences that is.

You tried to scream but it felt like your body was shutting down, you closed your eyes and passed out.

Suddenly, Batman came and punched the criminal straight in his nose, pulling your unconscious body to his side.

-Y...You're.. You're Bat..

The criminal shivered in fear at the hero towering over him. He stumbled over his feet and ran away when he heard the rumbling voice of the Bat.

-Get away from her, now.

The Batman calmly stated, calm but very intimidating. Like you could crumble under his gaze and tone of voice.

Batman gave the burglar a chance to run away, for now. Later in the Batcave, he'd make sure to make that man pay someday. At this moment, his priority was you.

Bruce didn't know what he was feeling, and he wasn't even sure if it was hatred anymore. When he saw you, looking helpless in the dim streetlights, he felt an urge to protect you. He wanted to protect you from everything bad in the world.

Carrying you into his Batmobile and driving towards the Batcave, Bruce contemplated if he truly hated you or admired you.

Arriving, Alfred walked to the automobile looking confused with the random girl in Bruce's arms.

-Who is this, Master?

Alfred asked with confusion laced in his tone.

-Do not worry, Alfred. It's the girl from the party. Her name is Y/N L/N. We need to get her treated, she's passed out from chloroform it seems.

Alfred acted quickly, with Bruce placing Y/N down onto the medical table. He swiftly brought out his tools and observed the few bruises and scratches that decorated the girl's arm.

It wasn't all too bad, so he wondered why his Master Wayne brought her all the way here? He has never done that for anyone before.

In a few minutes, the small wounds were fixed with some ointment and bandages. She would wake up soon.

-Master, why would you bring this girl here? It was only a few scratches, nothing too dangerous.

-I know, I know, Alfred. I don't know what's gotten into me. I just felt this urge to protect her, and I felt rage seeing another man touch her so violently. It's scaring me.

Bruce let out all his worries as Alfred poured him a cup of tea and sat down as well, they both were talking while Y/N was lying from afar, still unconscious.

-Master, have you ever considered that maybe, you have feelings for this young lady ?

Alfred was always right. But this time, he couldn't be! Unless...

-What ? I just met her ! There's no way ! And, I'm still not over Selina... I couldn't possibly like her. If anything, I hate her !

Bruce slightly raised his voice. He wasn't mad at you or Alfred, he was mad at himself. Mad that he couldn't decipher his own feelings.

-That is true, but love at first sight exists, you know. I know you're still grieving over Lady Selina, but you could also be slowly healing with how you feel for Lady Y/N. If you hated her, why would you bring her all the way here ? Quickly make me tend to her small wounds ?

The more Bruce thought about it, the more he realized Alfred was right.

Alfred was back upstairs in the Manor as Bruce was cleaning some of his Battech. He heard a small whimper come from Y/N. He abruptly stood up and walked over to you. He forgot something, though. His cowl. But he didn't realize that, too caught up in the fact that you were now awake.

-Where am I ?...

You rubbed your eyes and your tone of voice sounded like you were trying to hide your fear.

-You're in the Batcave. It is safe here, do not worry.

A low and dark voice came from your side as you looked up at your right. Wait, Bruce Wayne ? In Batman's suit ? What the fuck.

Could it be ?

-Holy shit.

You swore out of shock as you slowly tried crawling back from the table. Bruce was confused, and slightly nervous.

-What's wrong ?

He asked. You shakily pointed your finger at his head.

-I think you forgot your mask, Batman. Or now that I know, Bruce Wayne.

He lightly gasped and looked towards a mirror to show his reflection. This is bad, he wasn't wearing his cowl. How stupid of him ! Oh my God, he was so dead. He was caught by a random girl. My God.

-Fuck ! I forgot my cowl. Y/N, I know we ended on a bad note that night but I beg you to not tell anyone this, please. I don't know what's gotten into me and why I was this stupid to not realize my cowl wasn't on, just, this is our little secret, okay ?

He sounded so desperate.

-Wait, how do you know my name ? You know what, nevermind. What do I get ?

-What ?

-What do I get if I keep this a secret ?

You were teasing him. To be completely honest, you already had suspicions that he was Batman from the start. C'mon, Bruce Wayne sponsoring the Bat for ALL THAT gear ? One being present while the other suddenly disappears ? Besides, their features on the lower side of their face were exactly the same. You just have good observation skills.

-I'll give you anything you want.

-I'll make sure you live up to that.

You smiled. You smiled at him for the first time. No signs of cockiness or hatred in your eyes. It made him blush and choke on his words.

-Yes, I assure you I will.

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