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chuluoyi · 3 months

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✎ insatiable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend is hot and wild, and he has one problem: he always finds you too pretty to resist

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—in the form of heavy smut (gojo eating you out, p in v sex, missionary style, and hints of semi-rough sex?) and fluff, fluff, fluff—it gets exponentially soft during aftercare because i need fluff to live

note: i'm no saint, i know, and i'm blaming all this on my pms🤧 this is obviously not my best work but pls enjoy regardless🥲 based on this idea of love hotel dates

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Gojo Satoru is a man of demanding needs, and ‘holding back’ is never in his vocabulary.

Sometimes he swears you do it on purpose—the choice of your sundress, revealing your soft thighs for everyone to see; or pulling up your hair to enunciate the beauty of your neck, which reminds him of just how much he loves it to leave his love bites there.

And how you coyly look at him while doing so, it’s hard not to get hard.

You made him want to fuck you into the mattress and devour you whole—well, with you looking so inviting like that, you couldn’t really blame him for leading you to love hotel in the middle of your dates now, could you?

. . .

“Why are you so pretty, huh? All dolled up just for me...”

Your plush thighs framing each side of his head, your dress was long discarded as you lay sprawled out, legs parted wide . . . with Satoru sucking your dripping cunt hungrily and you pulling at his hair.

“Ahh... hah... mmnghh!” the way his voice was muffled between your legs, paired with how his tongue was tasting your clit had you moaning like a distressed kitten— and you felt hot all over.

And oh, couldn't you tell that you were so wet already down there?

You grimaced, focusing on the rising heat pooling in your lower belly. “Satoru... you're too—!”

“Hmm? Too what? Too good, sweet pea?” he edged you on, that devilish smirk on his face. “Of course I am. I'm the best.”

The way he lapped at your overflowing pussy was mind-blowing to say the least—casually nipping, licking, and overall, just scarfing down your sensitive flesh with such fervor.

How could someone be so incredibly sinful and heavenly at the same time?

"Aahhhh!" you yanked his locks and arched your back when he blowed air into your clit—your body spasming when you finally felt the knot in your belly burst once again, his awaiting tongue slurping you as if you were his tastiest treat.

And by now, you could barely form any thoughts, after he pulled the rag out from under you by making you cum four times.

“Do I make you feel good?” he chuckled, still pressing his face between your legs. With your head spinning and stars dancing in your vision, you could only whine.

Seeing you rendered into such hot mess—all because of him, Satoru smiled, ignoring the slight pain in his scalp as he swallowed your cum with that devious smirk before kissing your inner thigh with the very same daring mouth that was devouring your pussy before.

Beautifully and perfectly wet. You were like a ripe fruit for ready the taking now.

“Now, sweets... let me just show you what the best feels like.”

Suddenly, his length slid into you like a perfect fit, hitting you right where it should be. The sensation left you breathless, and in a flash, you let out hitched cries as he began to move within you, setting a relentless rhythm that seemed almost unforgiving.

“Satoru— too fast! Too de—ngh, hah—!”

Oh my, what a precious thing you are, writhing under him like this. “Really…? Then it means I’m doing—haah—a great job at this then.”

With each thrust, he marvelled at how tight your walls were engulfing him. Damn, if this kept up longer, even he wouldn’t last. Your pussy was a heavenly treasure.

“Fuck, you're so—hot,” Satoru panted, his fingers digging into your thighs as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He was really going to lose it soon, especially when right now, under him, you were a sight to behold. So pliant, so pretty, all his—

“I can't—!” you suddenly blurted, tears running down your scrunched-up face. “Satoru, I can't anymore—please—”

“Oh, but you can, baby girl,” he slowed down and countered in a low growl, interlacing his fingers with yours and folded your knees, effectively pinning you down to the bed. He had never made you hit five orgasms in one session, but now he was about to set a personal best.

His eyes captivated you, with how glittery they were. “One more time. My girl can do it.”

The underlying command in his tone triggered you, turning you on. And then he plowed into you— and then you didn't know anymore as the one thing you could utter was his name, in broken wails. “Satoru! argh—aaaah! Satoruuuu!”

His name spilling nastily from your lips, and—holy fuck, how your folds were still clenching around his cock so deliciously tight was just so—!!

He grunted, brushing his lips on yours in a messy kiss as his other hand squeezed your plump breast, making you yelp. “Can't blame me for this. Will fuck you till you can’t walk. You're mine now.”

He thrusted faster and harder, targeting your cervix repeatedly like a predator in heat. And your scream was the loudest ever yet when you cummed for the fifth time—

“Ah… ah—ahhhh!” your body shuddered, a wave of blinding pleasure crashed upon you so hard your vision dimmed, lost in the sensation of how his hips snapping and rolling into you sharply without giving you a chance to recover.

And by God, you are amazing, because in the next minute, Satoru lost all his shits and groaned loudly—his hot cum spurting in successive bursts and filling you up oh so nicely . . . even overflowing as it dripped out of your spent folds and down to the pristine sheets.

Satoru slowly sat up on the bed. The air was still thick with the aftermath of the best sex he had for the first time in a while.

It took him a few moments to realize that you passed out as you were lying face down on the pillow, motionless. A frown creased his forehead as he pulled you closer to him, tenderly brushing your hair aside.

“Sweetheart, hey? You okay?” he cautiously whispered. “Hey...”

His heart suddenly thudded within his ribcage when you failed to respond. The mere thought of you being anything less than okay was enough to send him spiraling.

You cracked your eyes open at his prodding, and let out a whimper when you felt a sudden cramp seizing your lower abdomen. In reflex, you clutched at the source of discomfort and curled upon yourself.

Satoru got a hold of you quickly, alarmed, trying to soothe you. “We're getting a bath, yeah? Hold on.”

Gone was the rabid man who senselessly fucked you over, replaced by the sweet boyfriend who was worried sick over your state.

He rushed to the bathroom to prepare a warm bath. However, noticing your slow, pained attempt to stand, he hurried back, lifting you effortlessly with one arm under your knees.

“Shh,” he quieted your whine gently, planting a swift kiss on your forehead. “You’re sore. Don't walk—let me carry you.”

And not only did he carry you, Satoru also tenderly bathed you, keeping you close to his chest. He sat behind you in the bathtub, comforting you with gentle caresses when you sniffled and pressing soft kisses on your wet shoulders, one arm securely around your waist.

After the bath, he quickly dried you off and wrapped you in the hotel's plush bathrobe. With utmost care, he lifted you again in a princess-carry and tucked you into the bed you both shared for the night.

“How are you feeling now, hmm?” he asked you softly, drawing you to his embrace again. “Better?”

Even refreshed from the bath, your mind was still partially muddled in the afterglow from the earlier lovemaking. You sought solace in his comforting presence. “Mm-hmm...”

“I was too rough on you, wasn’t I?“

He really made good on that promise—you wouldn’t be able to walk now as you felt too much like a jelly. You simply let out a soft sigh and gently bumped your forehead against his chest in a resignation, which brought a smile to his face.

“Sorry...” he murmured, his hand finding your hip to start a gentle massage. Unbeknownst to your half-sleepy state, he genuinely meant his apology. “In my defense, you are just unbelievably ravishing though...”

“You’re insatiable,” you retorted through a haze, your voice scratchy as you poked him in the chest with little force.

“Heh, for you? Most definitely.”

That got you to smile. His words, warm and fond, wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, affirming his deep, unwavering affection and desire for you alone.

The soothing motions of his hip massage lulled you back to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut with a sense of tranquility. And seeing you like this, something inside Gojo Satoru pulsed with tenderness.

“So pretty,” he blurted in pure adoration, his honored eyes fixed firmly on your sleeping form, blinking in wonder. “Wasted on someone like me…”

Suddenly, he found that he wanted to be soft to you more than ever. Next time, he would take it nice and slow. He would mold himself into your needs and desires— that was his vow to himself.

And it dawned to him, how he didn't want this love hotels anymore. Instead, he wants forever, with you—

But until then... he would relish this moment to the fullest, indulging himself in your presence, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat—secure with the knowledge that he was yours, at least until forever falls apart.

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neil-gaiman · 4 months

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Hello Mr. Gaiman,

I had a recent experience that (kind of) revolved around your character Death and I thought you might enjoy the story!

So, to begin, it is important to mention that my mom has been a long time fan of yours, notably of your Sandman series, and even more notably of the character Death. As a young goth in the late 80s/early 90s she connected heavily with the character both because of your marvelous writing but also because she happened to look a lot like that character. During that time she also happened to be close friends with the comic artist David Hahn.

Cut to the present, a few weeks back, my mom and I were visiting Albuquerque where we are both from. During a lovely green chili filled lunch with my uncle he asked what we planned to do during our visit and we mentioned a few comic book stores we'd like to check out while in town. He proceeded to tell us about a store that they used to go to as teenagers (named Comic Warehouse) and mentioned that there was a drawing of my mom, as death, drawn by David Hahn, above the entrance to this place. My mom was skeptical at first, thinking perhaps he meant it was an illustration of death that just happened to look like her. Regardless, curiosity got the best of all of us as we went to investigate.

Upon arriving at the shop we were disappointed to find that no such picture of Death could be found above the door, or anywhere for that matter. After a few minutes of peaking behind shelves and double checking dusty corners, my mom built up the courage to ask the nice man working the desk if he happened to know about this particular illustration. After stating he knew not only David Hahn but even remembered some of her other friends that used to haunt the place, he then disappeared behind a wall of boxes. After a few anxious seconds he reappeared with the illusive drawing in hand! Not only were we all shocked to find that it still existed, but as it turns out my uncle was right! It was in fact a picture of my mom, as death, and it even contains a short note addressed to her, thanking her for a lift!

It was a wonderful and surreal experience to find a 30 year old illustration of my mom, drawn as what has also become one of my favorite characters, and I thought you might appreciate knowing what a long lasting and wonderfully strange impact your work has had on a couple weirdos from Albuquerque.

That made my day completely. Thank you!

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megalony · 3 months

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Have You Slept

This is an Evan Buckley imagine based on a request and I am hoping to make it into a little series if anyone would like that. Any feedback is always amazing, I really loved writing this one.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: Evan invites the team to meet his wife and twins who he is very protective over. As one of the boys is autistic and (Y/n) happens to have narcolepsy.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"…It'll be great, Buck you're coming this time right?"

Evan paused a few feet away from the dining table in the station annex. He let his fingers continue to card through his wet locks that were forming into curls, flopping about near his forehead. He'd just had a shower and was ready to gulp down some lunch ready for whenever the bell sounded for their next call out.

He seemed to have missed the first part to whatever conversation was running rampid in the kitchen.

With a small, if confused smile, Evan walked over to the table and sat down opposite Eddie and Hen. He darted his eyes between the pair of them and Bobby and Chimney who were stood in the kitchen, finishing up grabbing plates and cutlery.

Evan had been working at the station for roughly a year now and it had been the best job he'd ever had. This had been the quickest that he had made friends in a new job and felt like he really fitted in with his co-workers. He could call these people his family, Bobby was more of a parent to Evan than his own parents were.

He felt at home with his work mates, unlike the other random jobs he'd had in the past like being a bar tender or the brief stint he had at being a bouncer. He didn't connect with people in those jobs and he didn't feel like he was making a difference like he did working at the fire house. But some things didn't change, like Evan's desire to keep his life separate from his work.

Working at the station made Evan feel excited about each new day on shift and he felt like these people were his family. They were a safe group of people to work alongside and call his friends.

"My uh, my first what?" He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table with his hands tangled together.

The way Eddie grinned across at him and the knowing smile on Bobby's face made Evan relax and manage a smile himself. It couldn't be anything bad or somewhat awkward if they were being so relaxed about it.

"We were just talking about the annual summer party the station has every year. It happens to be next week."

"Oh, yeah."

It didn't seem that long ago that they had all been having a barbeque a month or so back.

Evan remembered when he first started at the station they had been throwing a big party here but he didn't feel close enough to anyone to attend. Then there had been the halloween party, the pictures made it look like a successful night, but Evan didn't go to that one either. Finn didn't like halloween so Evan had made sure he had the night off to stay home.

And as for the Christmas party they had, Evan had been on shift that night and he wasn't really bothered about attending so he was happy to work while everyone else went out partying.

They seemed to make any excuse to have a party, not that Evan was complaining. He'd never had parties at any other places he worked at before. This was a pleasant change.

Bobby had talked about them always doing a Christmas party and finding a few extra people to cover the shifts so the 118 could go all out and enjoy the festivities. Evan guessed they would do that for the summer party too, find more staff to cover so as many regular staff as possible could attend.

"Yes we are, and I'm hosting this year." Bobby grinned as he set down a large bowl of lasagne in the middle of the table and took his usual seat next to Evan.

Usually they had as many parties as they could in the station to promote families being around and being included. But they couldn't have a summer party indoors. It was the middle of the summer and that meant they needed to be outside, in the sun and the sweltering heat. It was more of an occasion when a party was at someone's house and Bobby and Athena were always up for hosting parties.

"Are you gonna come to this one?" Hen reached across the table and started to dish up the lasagne onto everyone's plate but her smile was directed at Evan. They always invited him but he hadn't attended one of their parties yet.

It was strange for the team to have someone like Evan in their midst. Someone who was so bubbly, excitable and eager and like a bubble of fun. He was one of them, well and truly, but he was still somewhat distant with the team. They were only just beginning to learn about Evan's private life. They knew he had a turbulent relationship with his parents. They knew he was married and had two kids but Evan didn't talk about them that much.

They had only just met Evan's wife last month and that was a flying visit. Eddie was the only one out of the whole team who knew (Y/n) because he had been to Evan's house and Evan and (Y/n) had taken care of Chris a few times.

"I guess I could swing by for a while."

"Really?"

A bubble of adrenaline sparked up in Evan's chest and he nodded when Hen sounded so enthusiastic and Eddie grinned and gave him a thumbs up. They wanted him there. They really wanted to be around him and interact with him. Evan guessed they really were becoming his family now.

"Can I bring my family with me?" Evan almost felt guilty for asking but if he was going to do this, he wanted his family there with him. He knew parties meant bringing loved ones along but he wanted to be sure, he would never want to turn up and then feel like no one wanted his family around.

Everyone had been kind to (Y/n) when Evan brought her to the station and he was glad she was starting to become friends with the people he classed as his family.

Evan knew his wife wasn't very outgoing so it was nice for her to be around more people.

"Of course you can, kid. Our parties are for everyone, we're all one big family here and you're included in that. Bring whoever you like." Bobby clapped a hand down on Evan's shoulder and nodded at him reassuringly. They all brought their families round, it was a party, an occasion to be together and have fun and games and eat and just be together without the threat of having to rush off on a call.

"I was wondering…" Evan looked down at his plate before he glanced up. This was something he had been wanting to ask everyone and now was a better time than ever. "If you'd all like to come round for dinner, with my family? It'd be easier to get to know them before the party."

It would be a lot easier for everyone if the team could come over to Evan's house and meet (Y/n) and the boys first before he brought them to the party. (Y/n) and Finn didn't last long at parties for various reasons and Cole would be the only one who would be fine to stay for hours.

Evan wanted them all to get along and know each other like Eddie knew (Y/n) and the boys. Evan wanted that relationship with all the team. They were his family now and they meant the world to him.

Evan knew (Y/n) was already excited at the prospect of getting to know the people Evan worked with. She felt like she already knew them from the stories Evan told her when he came home from shift and her first meeting with the team had gone great. It was (Y/n)'s idea for Evan to invite them round for tea one day so they could all get together in a relaxed setting. And Evan wanted that to happen now before the party so at the party, everyone would be more familiar.

"That sounds lovely, you have two boys, don't you?" Hen never wanted to push the subject of family when she was around Evan.

She didn't want to make him feel like he had to open up and talk about his private life if he didn't want to. But when Evan talked to them in a few calm moments, he had said he had two boys with (Y/n). He didn't say much else though, not their names or their age and (Y/n) hadn't mentioned when they saw her a few weeks back.

"Yeah, we've got twins, Cole and Finn. They're four… um, I know you guys won't make a fuss, but just so you know, Finn's autistic. He's non-verbal."

Evan glanced his eyes around the table. Eddie and Chimney knew. Eddie had met the boys before and Chimney was close to Maddie who was close to the boys. He needed to tell them now before they came round and got a little surprise when they met the twins.

"He doesn't speak?" Chimney kept a smile on his face and tried to control his tone so Evan didn't think he was being rude. He didn't know anyone with an autistic child and all of them knew disabilities varied.

"Oh, no he… he won't say words, but he isn't exactly quiet. He babbles. A lot of random noises, and if he wants something he'll just grab you and take you to it. He loves meeting new people, he's taking a liking to Eddie."

Finn didn't say a lot of words. He could say a few things like his name or a mushed up version of random, compiled words. And Finn could understand every word spoken to him, he just couldn't quite talk yet but they were hoping he could start to learn soon. He would make a lot of noises, squealing when he was happy, screaming when he was sad. A lot of high pitch babbling when he was playing or concentrating or just happy.

When he first met Eddie, Finn attached himself to him. He took his hand and guided him into the kitchen and waited patiently for Eddie to make him a drink. Then he followed him around like a little shadow, always wanting to be close and entertained by him.

"I can't wait to meet him."

"Oh… and uh, no one has a problem with dogs, do they?" Evan glanced around the table as a light bulb went off in his head.

He'd almost forgotten about Dodger.

"Wow, full house, twins and a dog?" Bobby pushed his plate away and moved to grab his drink. It had been a while since Bobby had had a full house with Harry going to stay with his dad a lot and May getting ready to move out.

"Dodger's a service dog, for (Y/n) so if he starts barking or circling, don't mind him."

"What kind of service?" Hen could think of at least five different reasons someone would have a service dog and she wouldn't want to presume anything. But since Evan was opening up, she thought it might be good to get him talking to them. (Y/n) hadn't brought her service dog into the station when Evan introduced them, but Hen figured that was because Evan hadn't been on shift those days.

"(Y/n)'s got narcolepsy, random sleep attacks and cataplexy. You're all in for a treat when you come round mine next week."

***

Evan rolled his lips together and tilted his head to the side when he walked into the kitchen. His eyes darted between Dodger and (Y/n) before he slowly walked over to them both.

(Y/n) was stood near the sink, two glasses and two beer bottles in front of her. She looked like she was re-filling the drinks for everyone, but her hands were subtly shaking on the counter and she was stood motionless. When Evan looked down at Dodger, he could see the golden brown Labrador was sat faithfully at her left side. Nudging his nose against her leg and shifting his front feet around like he was tap-dancing.

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s stomach and her chest tingled when a strong pair of arms bound around her waist. She tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and glanced up at him, moving a little so she could catch his jaw with a kiss.

"You spaced, sweetheart." He spoke quietly against the top of her head while his hands danced over her stomach and slipped beneath her shirt to feel her bump.

"Hm," Her head tilted to push into the crook of Evan's neck and she moved her hands to cup his wrists.

With her narcolepsy, (Y/n) had a lot of side effects. Whenever she or Evan told people about her condition, they immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was lazy or just had a lot of naps during the day.

No one seemed to realise the side effects it had. (Y/n) had to schedule her sleep, go to bed at roughly the same time and try to get up at the same time each day to regulate her body clock. She was excessively tired most days. She had random sleep attacks that could be for a few seconds or a few minutes or even longer, they didn't always happen. (Y/n) could go three or five days or even a week or longer without an attack of any length.

It affected her dreams, she had vivid dreams, horrid nightmares, she acted out and lashed out in her sleep and unintentionally rolled onto Evan or hit him by mistake. She got sleep paralysis quite often.

Headaches were continuous. And narcolepsy came with cataplexy, which was where she had sudden loss of muscle control. That could be her jaw slacking, her head dropping forward, her legs going numb and giving out on her. Slurred speech or difficulty focusing or paying attention.

"You okay?" Evan spoke into her hair and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"Yeah, didn't last long."

She hadn't spaced out for long. It didn't happen too often that (Y/n) had microsleeps where she would either close her eyes or her eyes would stay open but her mind would shut down for a few seconds. It could last between ten seconds to a few minutes for a microsleep but (Y/n) didn't get them very often.

"Have you slept today?" Evan kept one arm curved tight around (Y/n)'s stomach while he reached across the counter and finished pouring the two glasses of juice (Y/n) had started.

Routines for sleep helped (Y/n) and she tried not to take naps during the day to keep a regular sleep schedule. But now she was pregnant again, she was trying to take at least one small nap during the day. It stopped her feeling so tired and lessened the chances of random sleep attacks. It was hard enough looking after the twins when they weren't at nursery, (Y/n) didn't need to collapse in front of them.

"Not today," She hadn't had chance to take a nap today, not with the boys being pumped up and excited about having people over for dinner. There was a lot for (Y/n) to prepare and get ready and now the team were here, there was no way she could take a power nap now.

(Y/n) slowly turned around in Evan's arms and pressed her hips up against the counter while her hands roamed up and down his chest. She loved the way his hands squeezed her hips and tried to slip beneath her leggings until she shimmied to stop him.

"We have guests- Finn, what are you doing to uncle Eddie?" Her hands scrunched up into Evan's shirt when he stood closer between her legs.

But both their heads turned to look over at the kitchen doorway when Finn appeared. He had a wide grin on his features, obscured by his thumb that he was biting down on. And his other hand was tightly gripping Eddie's hand as he dragged him from the conservatory where they were having dinner and brought him all the way through into the kitchen.

Eddie had his free hand on his hip, but he was happy to be shown around by Finn. The moment Eddie walked through the door, Finn had attached himself to his leg while Cole had gone straight to Bobby because he knew he was the Captain at the station.

Evan leaned closer into (Y/n) and grinned when Finn toddled past him and dragged Eddie behind him like he was a dog on a leash.

He moved towards the fridge and stood in front of it, pointing up at the fridge as he started to make a noise that sounded somewhat like 'wow' over and over.

"What're you after?" Eddie leaned down and scooped Finn up into his arms so he could look into the fridge and find what he clearly wanted. When Finn pointed to the small cartons of apple juice, Eddie held one out towards (Y/n) and waited for a nod of approval before he handed it over to Finn and set him back down to his feet.

Evan held out one of the beer bottles towards Eddie on his way past following after Finn.

"Shall we?" He mumbled quietly in (Y/n)'s ear, keeping his arm tight around her waist as he grabbed the two glasses in one hand while (Y/n) got the other beer bottle. She leaned her back into Evan's chest while Dodger trotted faithfully by her side.

She didn't always take Dodger out with her but she did if Evan wasn't with her. The moment he started working at the fire station, Evan started to worry. (Y/n) was at home alone with twin boys, one of whom was always on his feet and quite a handful. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) collapsing or hurting herself or falling unconscious with toddlers around and no one to help.

Dodger solved that problem. He could sense (Y/n)'s heartbeat and if her heartbeat dropped, then she was about to fall asleep. He whined and cried and nudged her arm or circled around her legs to get her to sit down. If she dropped or fell, Dodger would try and let her fall on him so he could nudge her onto the floor. And if (Y/n) had a microsleep, he circled around her so if they were in public, people knew something was wrong. Dodger would bark at any stranger that tried to come near or touch (Y/n).

They headed into the conservatory and (Y/n) placed the beer down in front of Bobby before she passed behind him to sit down next to Hen.

"Do you drive the truck too?" Cole leaned back in his seat and looked up from the toy truck in his hand towards Hen who was sat on his right. He was happily wedged between Hen and Chimney while Bobby, Evan and Eddie on the other side of the table. And Finn was happily sat on Evan's knee, although his focus was mainly on Eddie.

"Sometimes, but I normally drive the ambulance."

"Can daddy drive the ambulance?" He looked between Hen and Bobby, waiting patiently for an answer as he had been asking questions since the moment they arrived.

"We don't let your dad drive, he's Mr speedy."

Evan tilted his head up with a proud smile when Cole grinned and murmured "I like daddy's driving." He put his truck down next to him on the table near Chimney and started to eat his dinner again.

"That's only because I don't drive." (Y/n) glanced her head up and bit her lip when Evan's foot glided up her leg and nudged her in the knee in retaliation. The boys weren't used to anyone but Evan and Maddie driving them around, and it was mainly Evan.

If they went out with (Y/n) she had to walk or take the bus and wear her sunflower lanyard just in case she had an episode while they were out. The boys were used to Evan driving so if he cut the corners or went a bit fast, that was a normality to them and they felt safe with Evan because they were used to his driving. (Y/n) couldn't drive, she had never taken lessons and never could. It would be too dangerous.

"So, how far along are you?"

"Five and a half months." (Y/n) absentmindedly smoothed her hand across her abdomen as she smiled across at Hen. She leaned across the table for a piece of garlic bread and held one out to Finn. The four year old was currently stood up on Evan's lap, leaning back into his chest with their heads pressed together. It would make for a lovely photo since Finn was grinning madly.

"So we've only got Buck for another three months then?" Bobby knew Evan would be asking him for annual leave soon. Evan wanted to get his time off sorted out now so it was set in stone. He had to be home for at least two weeks after the baby was born. When (Y/n) had the twins she hadn't been well at all and Evan didn't want that happening again with him not being able to stay home and help her.

"Afraid so."

"I don't know how you're all gonna cope without me."

Evan leaned his head to the left and a soft smile flooded his face when Finn started to kiss his hair. He began making a bopping sound while his hands rested on Evan's shoulders to keep himself stood upright on his dad's lap.

A new line of conversation flooded the air and Evan tried to keep focused and chip in but his eyes kept landing on (Y/n) across the table.

She had her chin resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the table and her other hand was on her stomach. But it was the dazed look in her eyes that worried him. She wasn't talking either and if she started to drift, she might end up having another microsleep.

He moved his leg beneath the table and rubbed his foot up against her knee to try and grab her attention. The action made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and she lifted her eyes to look at Evan before she tried to look back at Hen for the conversation. She had one of her usual headaches. She had been feeling a lot more drowsy and tired lately and she knew it was because of the baby.

(Y/n) didn't feel so ashamed or embarrassed now to say that she was overly tired or that she needed to start taking naps during the day again. She was pregnant and was already looking after twins.

She always used to feel like she needed excuses to be tired, so people wouldn't think she was lazy. Evan always put her mind at rest. She had a condition that couldn't be cured or helped, it could only be controlled. And Evan never wanted (Y/n) to feel like she had to find excuses to explain the way she felt. Especially not around him.

"Thank you." Evan whispered quietly when Finn kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him. He moved his hands from his dad's shoulders to wrap them around Evan's neck and he giggled when Evan started to sway them from side to side.

Whenever Finn couldn't sleep ever since he was a toddler, Evan used to pace up and down the room swaying him back and forth. Evan barely got whiplash or felt dizzy from the hundreds of times he had gone in circles because the motion was so soothing to Finn.

Evan smiled as Chimney started to go into the long-winded reasoning behind his nickname.

But his smile started to drop when he heard Dodger suddenly bark.

Evan lifted his head and leaned towards Eddie on his left to try and look over the end of the table. Dodger was prancing his weight between his front feet and he started to nudge his nose and mouth against (Y/n)'s thigh. That meant he was sensing (Y/n)'s heartbeat starting to drop.

She was going to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart-" Evan bolted up from his seat when (Y/n)'s head slipped off her hand and dropped forward.

Her arm flopped down onto the table with a loud thud but before her head could land in her dinner, Evan swiftly caught her. He juggled Finn in his left arm, keeping the toddler pinned against his chest while his right hand pressed against (Y/n)'s temple. He leaned his hips into the table and leaned across, trying to stop himself from landing in anyone's dinner.

His thumb swiped across (Y/n)'s hairline while he tensed his elbow to keep his arm straight and hold (Y/n)'s weight up. He could feel her chest digging into the edge of the table, she had gone fully limp which meant this was more than a microsleep like she'd had earlier.

"Wow, hey I've got her. Good catch." Hen placed her hand over Evan's on (Y/n)'s temple and swooped her free arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully reel her back. She leaned (Y/n) back in her chair and held the back of her neck so her head didn't flop back and cause her any neck pain.

Eddie wordlessly reached out to take Finn while Evan scooted round the back of the chairs and moved next to (Y/n)'s chair.

"Good boy." Evan clicked his tongue and pointed until Dodger backed up and sat near the conservatory door just behind (Y/n)'s chair. He knew to move back when Evan was around but he always stayed dutifully close just in case he was still needed.

Evan pushed up on his knees and rubbed one hand up and down (Y/n)'s knee while he cradled the side of her neck in his other hand. He let her head loll to the side so she was facing him and he pressed his fingers over pulse just to check it was still steady and calm.

"Can we do anything?"

"She'll come round in a minute, she's fine."

He leaned over to kiss (Y/n)'s shoulder while he waited. It didn't usually take long for her to come back around. Evan had only had it once where (Y/n) had a sleep attack that lasted half an hour. That was the longest he had ever known (Y/n) to have an attack for and it had scared the daylights out of him.

"Mummy falls asleep but dad always catches her." Cole grinned up at Chimney before he glanced down at the other end of the table.

It was a normality for the twins. Cole was used to seeing his mum space out or see her stumble when her legs gave out from her cataplexy or when she head-dropped frequently like this. He had been brought up to know it was normal for his mum and that it wasn't scary or dangerous and he knew how to help if it happened when they were alone. And Cole always knew his dad would look after (Y/n) when it happened.

Finn didn't seem to take much notice. He had grown up around this happening so it wasn't frightening for him. He would just sit by (Y/n) and wait for it to wear off which was a relief for Evan to know it never scarred Finn or sent him into a meltdown.

"There we go," Evan's thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s cheek and he smiled when a small groan murmured past her lips.

Her head leaned into the palm of his hand and her eyes started to flutter and blink rapidly. A headache burned behind her eyes and spots danced in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when she managed to focus her sights on Evan. She must have dropped off for him to of moved so quickly down in front of her like this.

A shiver rolled down her arm when she felt Hen gently take her left wrist and check her pulse out of habit.

"I- sorry… how long?" (Y/n) tilted her chin down into her chest and tried to clear the fuzzy feeling from her head. It always felt like her head was being filled with air and the blood drained down to her toes. She shakily reached her hand up to hold Evan's wrist and brush her thumb across the back of his hand.

But when she looked over at Eddie, her expression dropped as he checked his watch. "Half an hour."

"Oi! Don't panic her like that." Evan reached behind him and swatted his hand out against Eddie's knee who rose a brow and grinned. He knew (Y/n) couldn't tell how long she had zoned out for and she hated to have an episode in front of friends in case it did last a while and she ruined things. "You were out for a minute, baby. That's all."

Leaning forward, Evan kissed her shoulder before he reached out and grabbed the stool in the corner. He dragged it across so he could sit at the end of the table close to (Y/n). Now she had had one episode, she was liable to have another and he wanted to sit nearby ready for if another happened and he had to catch her again.

Evan had acquired lightning reflexes since being with (Y/n) and he thought of it as his super power, being able to catch her before she fell or her head dropped.

He curved his arm around her waist and gripped her thigh soothingly while (Y/n) held his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Does it happen often?"

"It's not as bad as it used to be… when I had the twins my cataplexy flared up every day." (Y/n) shivered at the thought. She could still remember when she was pregnant with the twins and the amount of times her head would drop or her legs would give way.

She remembered having to call Evan at work and ask him to come home because she'd had an episode and her head had slammed so hard and fast into the dining table that she gave herself a nosebleed that wouldn't stop.

At least with this pregnancy, so far things felt a little easier and her cataplexy wasn't playing up nearly as much.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and looked up at Finn when he started to babble something. The four year old began tapping his palm against his lips, making an odd popping sound that distorted whatever he was trying to say. Usually Finn's sounds weren't related to anything he wanted, he would make happy sounds or mush up words but if he wanted something he would just point.

"What's up mister?" He bounced Finn on his hip until Finn stood up on his thighs and pointed his hand over at Evan and (Y/n). "What… do you want your dad?"

Evan leaned back against (Y/n)'s chair and grinned over at his boy, but the smile faded from his face immediately when Fin started to babble.

"Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Daddy."

"Oh my God," (Y/n) pushed forward in her chair, bracing her hands on the table as she darted her eyes between Finn and Evan. She needed confirmation that she'd just heard that correctly. Did he just say that?

"What?… You said he babbles-"

"Yeah but he's never said my name before." Evan ran his fingers through his hair before he pushed up from the table. "He's never said a proper word- he's said my name!"

Finn didn't speak. That was why Evan had told the team beforehand about Finn being autistic and non-verbal. He could say something that sounded similar to his name which usually came out as 'min-min' when he babbled. He made a lot of strange and happy sounds and 'ow-wow' noises but Finn didn't pronounce or speak.

The doctor had said there was every possible chance that in the future and when he went to a school that focused on speech and language, Finn had a good chance of talking. He might not say full sentences or pronounce properly, but there was a chance of him talking. He could understand words. Finn knew every word that was spoken to him and he could comprehend speech and conversations he just didn't respond.

(Y/n) could feel the tears welling up in her eyes when Evan bolted up from his seat and leaned across the table to take Finn from Eddie.

He settled Finn on his chest and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, unable to stop the broad smile from lighting up his face. He sat back down next to (Y/n) and started tickling Finn who continued to repeat 'daddy' so loud and fast it mushed together and came out all jumbled. But when he started to tap his hand on Evan's shoulder, it just cemented that he knew what he was saying.

He knew who Evan was and how to say his name.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Evan's shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck while she heard the rest of the team cheering. Evan was never going to let her live this down. He wasn't going to let her forget that Finn said his name first. That his first word, his first big achievement, was saying Evan's name.

"Daddy."

"Clever boy."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #buck x reader #buck imagine #have you slept

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simpcityy · 10 months

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I'm Not Her Pt.2 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel… Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the smell of bacon being cooked. Odd? Who is cooking if no one is home. Sitting up from your bed, you glanced at the time seeing it was 10am. Walking out of the room the smell of bacon got stronger. In front of you was your father Miguel cooking breakfast. You quickly rubbed your eyes wanting to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Buenos días, cariño*” Miguel glances back at you hearing the creek of the floorboards. You only stood there in shock. He’s home for once and calling you with love and affection. “I…Um…good morning?” You finally replied back sitting down on the chair slowly. He placed a plate in front of you and took a seat across from you. “(Y.N) …Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre*.” He began. “I know I left you all on your own, but I have to man up and fix my mistakes.” He looks at you before slowly holding your hand “and I know it won’t be easy, but I’ll try my best.” He smiles before slowly releasing your hand. You only stood there stunned thinking about it. Did Lyla talk to him? Did Peter? So many thoughts were running around your head before letting out a sigh. “I …what made you have a change of heart…you know that yesterday was my- “he cuts you off, “I know it was your birthday and I’m sorry” he pulls out a box from under the table. You were so shocked about this new side of your dad that you didn’t even see the box when you sat down. “Happy Late Birthday “he smiles, sliding the box towards you. You slowly open it inside before gasping seeing the latest technology you’ve always wanted. You dug your hand till it hit the bottom and saw a ticket to your favorite concert. “How did you know I wanted this? I always begged you to let me see this singer, but you wouldn’t hear me out…I…” you are feeling so many emotions. “I told you I was going to try my best to fix this” he smiles before letting out a grunt as you tackle him into a hug “thank you! Thank you!” You chanted. Miguel only lets out a small smile rubbing your back affectionately. You let him go and walked to the top cabinet grabbing a glass to fill. “let’s have breakfast before you head to work “you smile enjoying this small moment with him. Maybe your wish did come true, to stop feeling alone.

You walked down the halls of your high school. It was going to be your last year and you promised your friends you were going to make it a blast. Humming out a song you unlocked your locker. “Hey boo you’re in a much better mood.” Lyla appeared inside your locker snapping a selfie with you. “Glad you’re here, did you talk to my dad?” You asked her while collecting the items you’ll need on this day. “ wha? No, I didn’t. Why do you ask?” She looks at the selfie editing it. “He came home and made breakfast. He also got me tickets for the concert.” You smile enthusiastically looking at the AI. Lyla watches you “he did?” She was concerned, if she remembered correctly…Miguel was at the base this morning working but then again, he did slip out for a moment so maybe that’s where he went. Lyla only smiles “I’m so glad boo! Maybe Peter talked with him?” You nodded “I was thinking the same. Alright, I got to go Lyla.” You closed the locker going on to continue your education. Lyla stood in the pitch dark of the locker in deep thought “I’ll have to talk to Miguel” she mutters before disappearing.

School for once was a day you enjoyed, maybe it has to do with the fact you're slowly getting your father back. You’ll have to thank Peter once you get the chance to visit the Society HQ. You start to wonder what made him realize he has a daughter here. All this thinking made you hungry, spotting your favorite empanada stand. You walked over and got in line. ‘Maybe I’ll order extra to bring home’ you thought before smiling, giving your order to the kind old lady. Once you reached home, you closed the door behind you. “Are you home?” You call out placing the bag on the table. “Ya has vuelto de la escuela*?” Miguel emerges from the kitchen door. He glances at the bag. “Y eso?” He walked over looking into the box. “ I got you some empanadas” You smile before letting it falter seeing him sniff the bag. His face of disgust was present, “I’m not hungry, you eat it.” He quickly replaces the face of disgust into a smile. Something wasn’t right here, he loved empanadas. He would never reject it. “But it’s your favorite?” You sat down and grabbed a couple for yourself. Miguel grabs a glass of water, his back turned to you. He panicked for a bit before adding on, “Yes but I think I ate too many last time that it just makes me dislike it” He walks over rubbing your head, “It will go away and I’ll go back to liking them okay?” He pressed his lips to the side of your head before sitting down next to you. “Cómo fue tu día en la escuela*?” He asked. You only nodded taking his excuse before smiling, feeling his lip on the side of your head. “ It went well!” You ate the empanada while telling him how your day went.

Lyla stood behind Miguel watching him work away. “Hey Miguel” She appears in front of him. “Quick question” Miguel looks up at her and only grunts telling her to go on. “That was nice of you to get (Y/N) tickets to the concert” She sits on his shoulder waiting for his response. His answer only made her glitch and worried for you.

“What tickets?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: Thank you so much! Your comments and likes made me see how this NEEDED to be a series. I'm still working on the other two projects hopefully next week I'll be able to complete the series for Location Status. So, I can focus on my other projects. Sorry for any grammar on the first part, I was using a tablet and it was all new to me. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 66💕) Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Please reblog so others can be aware of my works! ILY 💕

Spanish Translation: (Remember some have double meaning or similar meaning) 1. “Buenos días, cariño: Good Morning Sweetie 2. Escucha, sé que no soy el mejor padre: Listen, I know I'm not the best father (Dad) 3. Ya has vuelto de la escuela: Are you back from school? 4. Y eso: And that or whats that? 5. Cómo fue tu día en la escuela: How was your day at school?

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader #miguel ohara x daughter reader

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theitgirlnetwork · 3 days

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Earn it

Ch. 1: You Boys Really Like to Play Doubles

Note: Okayyy another one in the lineup. Now that I'm back in my account I think I am going to make an update schedule. I hope you all enjoy this new series along with the others and let me know what you think. This first chapter is mostly backstory building but this story is my chance to be messy lol. It will have spoilers for challengers, but also a lot of things are changed. Please feel free to interact and give feedback (constructively) it inspires me to hear from you all. This obsession came fast so I feel like I already have so many ideas for these characters. This one is short because I was dipping my toe in but they will get longer! The aesthetic board for this story will be on the masterlist in a couple hours! Thank you and enjoy!

Tashi Duncan is an athlete. Hell, she’s the athlete. Of their arena. Of their time. She’s good. Great. Passionate. Beautiful…in the words of Art.

Sexy as shit in the words of Patrick and just about every other man who managed to lay eyes on her. She’s something to marvel at. And they did. Marvel. Art and Patrick stand there, jaws slack, eyes locked on the girl as she moves about the dancefloor absently. It’s like the opposite of how she moves on the court. There she’s a predator. Moving quickly, calculated, with strength. Here she’s graceful, eyes closed and enjoying the motions.

It’s their chance. A chance to meet her. To flirt with her. Con her out of her number when she wanders away from the group of women she’s dancing with over to the couches to retrieve her drink. It’d be easier to talk to her alone. They do their best work in a double, and as far as they knew, she had no partner. As far as they knew.

And they’re basking in her attention. Taking turns in a whole new match. When one gets the gift of her gaze the other’s smile drops like a puppy waiting for its turn to be played with, her easy smirk resting comfortably on her face the whole time. Until she comes.

“Made some friends?”

The two of them can’t help but have the same thought. Art was admittedly more ashamed to have it but they both had it. There’s two of them.

“These guys are in the tournament. They play tomorrow.” Tashi smiles, holding her hand out to the girl and helping her step over the table so she can sit down next to her. Both men offer her their own hand to help her the rest of the way but she simply squeezes Tashi’s harder.

Patrick and Art don’t know where to look. Before the girl’s arrival Tashi was the only person worthy of admiration here. She’s stunning, abnormally beautiful. But so was her friend. She had a darker complexion, with full lips coupled with a pretty smile. She tosses her silky dark hair over her shoulder, exposing more shiny skin. Her pink, strapless dress compliments Tashi’s royal blue one so much that even two men with no knowledge of women’s fashion would guess the choice was purposeful. They exchange looks as the women cross their legs in sync, Tashi handing her half-drunk beverage to her friend who rolls her eyes with a small as the boys’ eyes drop to her mouth. “Are they any good?”

Tashi hums thoughtfully, tilting her head lightly as if she needed to observe them to determine that. “From what I hear? Sometimes.”

“Not good like you though.”

That takes them aback for a moment. I mean, Tashi just won a tournament, she’s proven herself enough to pass judgment, all this girl has proven to them is that she’s hot. Who’s she to decide that they weren’t in the same league as Tashi. They weren’t, but who was she?

“You, uh, know that just from looking at us?” Art asks, finding himself sitting straighter at the scrutiny, the unimpressed looks on the two girls' faces getting to him as he wonders what it would take to change them.

All the girl offers is a shrug and a small smile around the straw, earning her a giggle from Tashi.

“You know, we didn’t get a chance to see your match. What’s your name again?” Partick’s brows furrow as he glances between his friend and the two women.

The smile drops from her face and her lips curve into a frown, cheek dimpling in a way that almost has the men forgetting she’d insulted them. “Wow.” she scoffs.

“You’ve got balls. You came to my party to talk shit to my best friend?”

That has them scrambling, stuttered half apologies from Art and sarcastic denials from Patrick. Anything they could blurt out to convince Tashi and her mystery friend to stay. All of it interrupted by their burst of giggles.

“We’re just fucking with you.” The girl leans her head back against the cushion, puffing out laughter that makes Art’s head feel like it’s swimming. He blinks at the feeling and takes his own deep breath. “I’m Heaven, I’m nobody, I don’t play tennis.”

“Nobody? You don’t seem like nobody.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he says it.

“Nobody is nobody.” Patrick cuts in.

Tashi gives the girl a disapproving look that would put ice in the mens’ veins, pursing her lips in agitation briefly before turning back to the guys in front of them. “She’s Heaven Whitlock, she’s my best friend, and the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

Heaven lifts and drops her shoulder noncommittally, taking a deep sip of the drink. “Yeah. I’m the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

The girls left soon after that so that Tashi could take pictures and once they were done, they were pleased to discover that the boys had waited to hang out with them more. The group made their way down to the beach and found themselves talking about all sorts of things. Life, Tashi’s earlier match, tennis as a spirituality. They were shocked to learn that Heaven knew a lot about the sport and could even play a little. But based on how they described it, she only knew enough to help Tashi train.

Patrick felt aggravated and outnumbered by the fact that all three of the others were going to college.

“Okay, so she doesn’t want her only skill to be hitting a ball with a racket. What the hell are you going to school for Miss Ballerina?”

“Train. I can get better.” Heaven shrugs. “Get my name out there too, before I join a company I mean.”

“Can we see something?” Art blurts from his seat, shaking out the ash from his cigarette. “Like your favorite trick or-”

Heaven’s face lights up slightly. Her back has been straight up all night, her shoulders rolled back with poise, but she perks up in excitement at the thought of the opportunity to dance. “I like doing Fouette turns-”

“Heaven, in sand?” Tashi whips her head to look at her friend. “You don’t even have your shoes. You have your first audition for your school’s fall show when we get back don’t you?”

Heaven rolls her glossed lips inward, nodding, eyes dropping to the sand briefly before they return to the men in front of her. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time. There’s gonna be another time?” Patrick leans back in his seat, looking between the two women smugly. “Does that mean I’m gonna hear from you two again?”

“I’ll see Art at Stanford. Heaven will visit.”

“He’s asking for your numbers.” Art offers. “So am I.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she stands dusting sand off her hands before she helps pull Tashi to her feet. “Both of you?”

“Yep.”

“Want both of our numbers?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, you boys really like to play doubles, huh?” She’s met with cheeky smiles and a shrug from Tashi. “Well, I have a boyfriend, so…” she grins, gesturing to Tashi. “May the best one win boys.”

The boys crane their necks briefly to follow Heaven’s walk up the hill, her sandals in hand, watching as she turns expectantly, holding out her other hand for Tashi to come up and take. They barely get out their offer for Tashi to come to their room later before she’s making her way up the hill. Her long legs carry her to her friend, whose hand she takes before swinging their arms back and forth, singing along together to whatever song is playing in the distance together.

As soon as they’re out of sight Patrick whips his head to face Art, a wild smirk on his face.

“Which one do you want?”

“So…which one’s your favorite?”

“Patrick’s got more natural talent, that’s for sure, but he’s stubborn, doesn’t wanna learn anything new. Art- what?” Tashi tilts her head at her friend’s scoff, moving to sit next to her at the small desk chair, watching as her friend rubs lotion into her face. “What?”

“Nothing, T, tell me about Art.” Heaven laughs, shaking her head. Tennis. Always about tennis. Poor boys.

“Art wants it more right now. And he’s good. Could be great." She stands walking over to the closet and tugging on her jacket. “You set your alarm?”

“4:30, T. Gotta get our run in and practice for my audition before the tournaments start.”

“Mm, good girl.” she smiles, dropping a kiss onto the top of Heaven’s head. “I’ll have my key.”

“You’re really going? You’re gonna go to their room?” Heaven turns in the seat and watches Tashi put on her shoes. The brunette pauses to look at her friend, walking over and crouching in front of her. Her hands rest on Heaven’s legs as she looks up at her.

“You jealous?”

“Want me to be?” Heaven asks, leaning her forehead against Tashi’s with a defiant look on her face. “I know you’re not gonna fuck them.”

“Really?” Tashi hums absently. “We’ll see. I’ll be back later. Why don’t you call Trevor while you have the room to yourself.”

With that she pats Heaven’s legs, pushing off of the floor and leaving her alone in the hotel room.

Heaven takes her best friend’s advice. She calls her boyfriend. It was a mistake.

Trevor hates Tashi. He hates tennis. He hates dance. He hates everything.

He didn’t use to. He used to think the girl’s dedication was cool. He used to love to come to showcases, recitals, even some of Tashi’s tournaments. But then he realized his place in everything. His place in Heaven’s life. Dance and Tashi, those two things would always come before him.

That’s the hard lesson everyone always had to learn. Tashi was always gonna win when it came to tennis and Heaven. Tashi was Heaven’s first…period. First best friend, first kiss, they’d taken each other’s virginities. They met in middle school. Heaven had been at the community center gym with her mother, running and doing weight training while her mom took a zumba class. Out on the court was Tashi. Beautiful and focused as ever. Heaven chose a treadmill that she could watch Tashi practice out the window from. She’d been startled when the taller girl came into the building and stood next to her machine and asked her if she knew anything about tennis and if she wanted to play.

She wasn’t good. Tashi was determined to make her good enough to play with. Soon enough they were inseparable. Heaven would sit in the stands at Tashi’s games, yelling as loud as the girl playing when she won. Tashi would go to see Heaven dance, offering her applause when she won awards or starred in a show. Having Tashi was intense, but Heaven was intense too, in her own right. They were both passionate about their crafts, and loved the art of working hard. They liked making each other proud.

Tashi was Heaven’s first everything except her first love. That was dance. Her muscles stretching into beautiful motions. Using her body to tell all kinds of stories. Becoming someone else entirely over the course of a song. Heaven would die if she couldn’t dance.

She doesn’t feel like that about Trevor. He was a sweet guy, and she liked him. Despite Tashi’s constant digs that he wasn’t good enough or amounting to anything, Heaven liked him. Not everything has to be an intense feeling. Content can be good enough. I can be satisfied with content.

But Trevor wished she would be normal. He wished she wasn’t so close to Tashi. He wished she wasn’t constantly working at something. At least that’s what he said when he dumped her over the phone.

“Trev-Trevor. Trevor are you fucking serious?”

Dial tone.

Heaven’s lip curls up in frustration as she feels her eyes watering. She throws her phone against the wall, hearing the distinct crack of the screen. “Fuck. Fucking shit.” She…needs Tashi.

Pulling a baggy t-shirt over her sport’s bra and underwear she goes to the bathroom and rids herself of any evidence that she’d been crying before she heads to the room Tashi told her she’d be in. She creeps past her friend’s dad’s door so she doesn’t wake him and alert him that neither she nor Tashi were in bed. As she gets off the elevator on the boys’ floor she straightens as she goes to knock on the door, hearing the faint sounds of lips smacking and moaning.

That makes her feel worse then she did when Trevor told her she wasn’t worth the hassle.

Heaven turns on her heel and goes back to the elevator. Her bare feet pad on the rug of the hotel hallway as she wraps her arms around herself until she gets back to her door.

She ties her scarf around her hair before climbing into the bed the girls had been sharing, facing the window. The blinds rattle as the wind blows and the quiet tears on Heaven’s face are dry by the time Tashi slips into the room and into the bed behind Heaven.

The bed dips slightly under her weight and suddenly hands are planted onto Heaven’s side. “Hev, I’m back…I had fun. Come on, I know you’re awake.”

“Cool.”

“I hooked up with them.”

Heaven turns then, laying on her back as Tashi leans over her, her hair making a curtain around her. “Which one?”

“Hmm…both. We didn’t have sex or anything but…I made out with both of them…and then they made out with each other. S’fun.” Tashi grins, flopping on her back next to her friend.

“They…ever done that before?”

“Nope” she smiles, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Both girls burst out into laughter as they think about the difference between their friendship and the two boys they met, so similar yet so different.

“You’re evil. You fucking homewrecker.”

“Ahh, they’ll be alright. It’ll be a good fuckin’ match tomorrow…winner gets my number.”

Oh.

“Trevor dumped me today.”

Tashi turns on her side at that. Her ever-inspecting eyes scan Heaven’s face before narrowing a little. “No bullshit? Good fucking riddance. Should’ve dumped him when I told you to. Damn, would’ve been an even better match if I knew that earlier. Imagine how they’d play if the stakes were the winner gets both of us at the same time.” She laughs, putting her legs under the blankets. “It’d be fucking funny.”

“Yeah, T. Fucking hilarious.”

Tashi is at the courts by 5 am the next morning, and Heaven is running on the beach. She normally loves training with here friend, but right now, she needs a fucking break. Being drilled about the audition or talking about this deathmatch for Tashi’s phone number doesn’t feel like something she wants to do right now.

Still, her and Tashi’s workout playlist blasts in her ears as she fights the sand’s resistance, panting out breaths to Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child. That is until she sees something moving out of the corner of her eye.

It’s the blond one. She wasn’t sure which one’s name was which, but to her, the blond one was the cuter one. She liked his smile and he looked like he had a nice body under his baggy shirt yesterday. His tight athletic tank today shows her she’s right. Popping an earbud out, Heaven slows to jogging in place, offering him a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, you’re up early, aren’t you?”

“Might not play tennis, but I’m still an athlete. I get up at 4:30 everyday. Clearly you do too.”

“Uh,” he adjusts his cap on his unruly blond hair before covering it back up, matching pace with her in her jog. “Not really, but the match is in a couple hours and I gotta explain to my family how to watch it. There’s a lot of them. And Patrick snores.”

“I see. Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you’re gonna get with Tashi.” His mouth opens and closes at that, like he’s shocked she knows he’s interested in her friend. “She told me about the stakes for today…and the other stuff.”

He falters in his step at that, placing his hands on his hips as he laughs in disbelief, before pulling her shirt over his mouth for a second to hide his face, ears red. “You guys share everything, huh?”

“Apparently you do too.” Heaven laughs, pausing in her jog to stretch her leg when she feels tightness in it, bending over to work the muscles. If her eyes hadn’t slipped closed she would see Art’s eyes dart to her backside before looking away in an attempt to be respectful. He absently thinks that Patrick is right. Hot girls usually are friends with other hot girls. “But I’m rooting for you…uh…?”

“Oh, Art. I’m Art.” he breathes, willing his eyes not to slip again.

“Short for Arthur?”

“Um, yeah, but nobody calls me that. Except my grandma when I’m in trouble.” He blushes. Heaven straightens, and offers him a pretty smile.

“If one of you is gonna be seeing Tashi, I need to know your full name. I’m sure you can carry the speech to the other one too. If you hurt her, you die, I’ll kill you little white boy, you get it right?”

“Right.” he hums, rocking on his feet. “So, you guys are close huh? She talked about you a lot last night. Fucking hates your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, she won’t have to worry about him anymore. Done. As of last night actually. Tashi was saying she wishes would’ve known that before your little bargain. Then, it would be both her and my number on the line. What can you do?” Heaven shrugs absently. She was flirting a little. Sue her. She’d just been dumped and was finally free to start having fun. All summer she’d been traveling with Tashi, being a good little doting girlfriend, turning down every hot guy she met. Only ever having one slip up, with Tashi. She knew they both were into her friend, she didn’t expect anything-

“So raise the stakes.”

Heaven’s eyes widen as Art looks at her earnestly, looking embarrassed by his own words. “What?” she laughs.

“You can…definitely tell me to fuck off…but…we would be interested in having your number added to the…pot? Fuck, that sounds awful, Patrick and I want your number too. I want your number too. If that’s okay.”

“And you wanna play for it?”

“Those are the rules right?”

Heaven observes the man in front of her. Boyish. Cute. And nervous. He doesn’t know how hot he is. Not like his friend. Not like Tashi. He doesn’t know what he looks like. And he seems sweet enough, nervous to offend them, but determined enough to push past the embarrassment to get what he wants. “Tashi’s rules. Not mine. Do you guys want to play for my number?”

His jaw sets slightly as he looks her up and down. “I wanna earn it.”

“Okay, winner gets Tashi’s number. And mine.”

#oc #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers 2024 #mike faist #challengers movie #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x patrick zweig #art donaldson x tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #challengers spoilers #love #earn it

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters fluctuate between past and present, beginning in 1934. SPOILERS FOR THE BOYS S3

Chapter 1: You Shouldn't Have Answered the Door

Chapter 2: Late Night Visitor

Chapter 3: Summer Has to End Someday

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Chapter 5: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

Chapter 6: Batter Up

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...

Chapter 9: Wedding Bells or Gong of Destruction?

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Chapter 11: I Can't Think With You Yelling At Me!

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Chapter 13: You Made A Plaything Out of Romance

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Chapter 16: Coming Soon!

Last Updated: 04/28/2024

***************************************

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

(Photos on mood board from Pinterest)

#jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #the boys series #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon #jensen ackles #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #the boys season 3 #jackles #billy butcher #homelander #hughie campbell #the boys #You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

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targaryen-dynasty · 9 months

Text

LONGING.

modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

"Can I please request modern Aemond x best friend reader smut? They are watching some movie or TV series together and they have a good time when suddenly some steamy scene happens on the screen (some choking, spanking, degradation/praise kink) and he notices that she is turned on by that? And he is like "if you want to experience it I can help you with it?""

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; fingering, p in v, spit kink, praise kink, humiliating, degrading, profanity, best friends to lovers

WORDS: 3.5 K

You were approximately 20 minutes into 365 Days when a knock on the front door forced you to get out of the comfort of your bed to see who chose to get on your nerves. Much to your surprise, it was Aemond.

It wasn’t unusual for him to come over unannounced, sometimes the reason was his brother just getting on his nerves, and sometimes it was the strict rules of his mother. You let him in, closing the door whilst he already ridded himself off his sneakers and jacket. “I was just watching a movie, lemme turn it off real quick,“ you quipped, already walking back into the bedroom.

“What movie?"

You turned to face him, grimacing at the thought of admitting your guilty pleasure to him. Movies like that weren’t your cup of tea, but sometimes you felt the urge to watch them, just because you weren’t in the right headspace for any Marvel or Star Wars movies. Aemond and you were watching the final season of Game of Thrones, and since you thought that was the reason he came over, you wanted to prepare everything for it.

“… 365 Days? Flo and Bae talked about it and I thought I’d give it a try,“ you confessed, busy rustling the sheets to get the remote of your TV.

Aemond’s heavy footsteps approached the bedroom, and when you turned to look at him, you saw him mirroring the grimace you made before. You were surprised he even knew what kind of movie you were talking about, to be honest. “You know what? Keep it on. Game of Thrones has gotten shitty ever since season 7 aired.“

Knowing damn well that the heavy sex scenes you had seen before in the movie weren’t going to be the last ones, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself for the humiliation you had to endure, muttering a defeated “fine“.

It was so damn difficult for you to say no to him, especially because of the little crush you had on him ever since you both met through mutual friends.

You had been friends–or rather best friends–for quite some time at this point. You couldn’t even recall how it all started. After a night out with your friends, you both crossed paths more often than you would have liked to admit, and Aemond made the first move to reach out to you. You bonded over multiple things, your shared affinity for High Valyrian, and your similar taste in music only being two of them. At first, things were kind of rocky between you–it wasn’t easy to coax Aemond out of his tough shell–but once that step was accomplished, the relationship between you developed rather quickly. Everyone around you called you inseparable, and wherever one of you went, the other followed.

You both lay down on your bed with your legs being carelessly thrown over his, and a large pillow placed between your bodies for you to rest your arm upon. Aemond had his arms crossed behind his head, whilst your other arm was lazily draped over your waist, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt.

Aemond appeared to notice the tension in your body the second you pressed play, the way the corners of his mouth quirked into a slight smirk gave it away—he knew what was going to happen in the movie, but you were far too distracted to even notice it.

The anticipation in your stomach had you releasing a strained sigh, your breathing growing more and more shallow, because you knew which scene was going to come.

Baela and Floris had told you about the yacht scene, and though they did not go into detail, you could clearly grasp that it was hot and spicy. And when that scene started to play, your whole body felt like it was on fire. Not from embarrassment, but from arousal. The way he manhandled her in the roughest way and took her however he pleased was something you always wanted to experience, too. But you never found the right guy, with most of them being as vanilla as ever. The urge to squeeze your thighs together to soothe the aching between your legs didn’t come as a surprise, your hips shifting ever so slightly because you weren’t keen on catching Aemond’s attention.

But when your eyes finally averted from the screen, you saw him already watching you, an amused expression on his face, and his eyebrow raised in a way that just screamed ‘as if’.

“It doesn’t take more to get you horny?“ Aemond spoke as if that was the most normal thing in the world–as if the man‘s demeanor in that scene was the most normal thing ever.

Your cheeks instantly heated up at Aemond’s shameless teasing, and you found it difficult to meet his eye. “God, it’s been a while since I got laid, okay? And it sure as hell did not look like that… sorry,“ you all but barked the last word, raising your hands in defeat to show your irritation. Aemond found humor in your reaction.

What you didn’t expect was Aemond pinching your chin and turning your head to force you to look at him. It was then that you noticed you had shifted closer to him in your trance like state–you were just far too focused on what was happening on screen than to catch your own movements.

Your lips were pressed into a thin line, not out of discomfort but the sudden proximity, and you were close enough to feel his breath on your face.

“If you want someone to fuck you like that, you know you could’ve just asked me, right?“

You weren’t certain if you had fallen asleep during the movie, but if it was a dream, you hoped you wouldn’t wake up.

“I… uhm,“ you stuttered, the sounds barely above a whisper. A thousand thoughts were racing through your mind, the most obvious of them being the fear he was just messing with you. Oh, you knew he had to be messing with you.

His other hand was resting on your stomach, the palm rubbing soft circles over it, and once you noticed, you couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs once again.

“If that’s what you want, I can help you with it,“ Aemond said softly, nodding towards your TV. “I can fuck you like he would.“ There was curiosity written all over his chiseled features, and if he was nervous, he was damn good at masking it. Your teeth captured your bottom lip, chewing on it as you contemplated his offer for a few seconds.

His piercing gaze was lingering on you, and it seemed that something in your expression and body language had subconsciously changed, because he didn’t wait for you to speak a coherent sentence, before he already moved to lie between your legs. His hands were supporting his weight on either side of your head, and strands of his platinum blonde hair fell into his face as he was towering above you.

Your breath hitched in your throat–you felt him. He was hard and pressing against your clothed cunt. One rut of his hips was all it took for you to mutter a desperate “please“, giving him your consent to keep going.

“Please, what?“

You clenched your jaw, staring up at him with a dumbfounded expression. Was he serious? Taking in a deep breath, you overcame your timidity.

“Please fuck me like that, Aemond.“

The neediness in Aemond’s kiss was an indicator that he had planned to do that for a very long time. There was no softness in it, it was just clashing teeth and all tongue, your mouths molding so perfectly against each other. Aemond was subtle and skilled in what he did, so you hadn’t really noticed his hand wandering underneath the waistband of your pants to cup your clothed cunt–his thumb brushing over your sensitive bud, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He drank down every sound you made, eagerly taking everything you gave him. Truth was, he was just as aroused as you, and occasionally, you heard him grunting and humming, the sounds surging straight to your head and causing a wave of arousal to gush out of your core.

A gasp was heard as Aemond’s fingers pulled your panties to the side to slide into your hole, soaked enough to do so with ease. You clenched down on his fingers, and your back arched involuntarily against his firm body. It felt as if he gave you everything at once, but also not enough, the despair palpable in the way you grasped his biceps, your fingers digging into his muscles.

The hand that wasn’t occupied with scissoring in and out of you made quick work of yanking your sweats down and your shirt up to reveal your perky tits.

His lips found your right nipple, sucking and nibbling on it, whilst his fingers paid equal attention to the other. His lips traveled down your body, leaving a trail of open mouthed kissed until they stopped at your pubic bone.

However, your hands were quick to entangle into his precious, silver-blonde hair, and you proceeded to pull it like reigns to where you wanted him, and right now, you didn’t want his mouth on you–you wanted his cock. The sharp tug of you as you pulled him back up had him hissing, but it was evident that the stinging pain turned him on, because his lips were on yours in an instant.

“I said fuck me, not eat me out, Aem.“ And while you expected him to chuckle, he just flashed you a gaze that spoke for itself. The way his head was tilted slightly with his dark blown eye fixed with yours was clearly meant to warn you, you were playing with fire–and you never felt more alive.

But Aemond did what you said. His pants were quickly gone, discarded on the floor next to the bed, with his boxers following shortly after. You took care of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head to join the rest of his clothes. You shimmied your way out of your sweats and panties with just a little help of Aemond, whilst your oversized shirt stayed on.

Aemond sat back on his haunches, fisting his length to pump it to full hardness. You were propped up on your elbows, and for the first time ever since meeting him, you saw him completely naked. He was fucking well-endowed, and the bulbous tip of his cock shimmered with beads of pre cum leaking out of his slit. The sight had your mouth watering, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body at the thought that you were finally getting what you had been dreaming of.

You shamelessly stared at him working himself to full hardness, but the most erotic thing still was how he maintained eye contact with you while he did it. His hooded gaze flickered over your body, and eventually stopped at the apex of your legs.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the tension of it all causing you to release the most desperate whimper one had ever heard.

“Impatient, are we?“ The blonde teased, a cocky smirk adorning his features. You were glaring at him the second you noticed what he was doing, and quickly threw yourself onto him, the sheer force of your body pushing against his having him groaning out.

Aemond’s hand found your waist, gripping it tightly to flip you onto your stomach. You squealed at the movement, but wiggled your hips for him nevertheless. “On your hands and knees,“ he instructed sternly, and you eagerly obeyed. With all the arousal that coated your cunt, it was easy for him to slide the tip of his cock through your folds, coating it in your essence for extra lubrication, before he finally eased into you. The stretch was delicious, painful even, but you wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

He knew how to be gentle, really, but you wanted him to be rough—and he was all in for it.

Now it was his hand that entangled into your hair, anchoring him enough to pull you back onto his cock until he was bottoming out completely. You both moaned in unison–he, because you were just so damn tight, and you, because he stretched you in the best way possible. It felt as if he was up in your throat. You felt filled to the brim, and Aemond seemed to notice, because he gave you a few seconds to adjust.

Aemond drew his hips back until he completely pulled out of you again. The thick tip of his cock slid over your clit a few times, before he slammed back into you, his heavy balls slapping against your little bundle of nerves.

The pace he set up was frantic and reckless, he wasn’t showing any mercy. Instead of moaning, you were stuttering. „Fu—Fuckk,“ you hiccuped, repeatedly interrupted by the force of his thrusts. Your hands were clutching the sheets underneath you, your knuckles blanching from the force.

From behind you, you heard Aemond groaning and grunting praises. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Y/N, didn’t think it would fit.“ It had you blushing like crazy, and you buried your head into the pillows.

A part of you was ashamed you allowed things to get that far, fearing for your relationship with him, but the other part was satisfied. It was what you had wanted for a very long time, and judging by the way Aemond took you, you knew he wanted it, too.

While one of his hands found solace in the curve of your waist, the other pushed you further into the pillows with your hair neatly wrapped around its palm.

Your sounds were muffled, and the blonde was towering above your frame, seemingly not caring. It felt as if he rested his whole weight onto your body, but you couldn’t care less because you were in a state of bliss–finally someone wasn’t afraid to use you however he wanted.

Then, the man behind you stilled, the only thing audible was his heavy breathing. His hand remained on the back of your head, but you felt him leaning over the edge of your bed, and heard him fumbling in the top drawer of your nightstand. Once a soft buzzing sound filled the silence, you knew he had found your pink vibrating wand. You managed to slightly turn your head to catch a glimpse of him.

“How—“

He interrupted you, “Just guessed. It’s usually the top or bottom drawer.“ That bastard openly rubbed his game into your face.

Before you could interject, he pressed it to your clit, the words catching in your throat only to be replaced by whines and moans.

He yanked you up by your hair to pull your back flush against his chest, and changed his grip from your hair to your throat. It was beneficial, because he could choke you and get you into a lightheaded state, but could also support your body without much effort. Each time your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock, so did his hand around your throat.

Aemond consumed you in every way. His toned body and natural heat surrounded you with his arms at either side of your body, his usually blueish eye dark blown and burning a hole into the side of your face, his thick, veiny cock relentlessly splitting you in half. And you couldn’t be more thankful for it.

He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck, still thrusting in tandem with the wand's vibrations as he began to fuck you to your peak. His lips bullied your flushed skin, sucking it in to leave bruises, marking you as his.

His thumb pressed against your yaw, turning your head so you were able to look at him from over your shoulder. It then moved to tap against your bottom lip. Your mouth already hung agape, but he still commanded you to “Open up for me.“ He could ask everything of you with the gravelly voice he used.

With his hand resting around your throat like a choker, you had little to no freedom to nod and complied by opening your mouth in the perfect ‘o’ shape, with your tongue sticking out slightly. Since you had seen quite a few porn videos, you were perfectly aware of what he planned to do, hence you gulped in anticipation with your tongue waiting for what was to come.

Aemond leant to the side, and allowed his lips to ghost over yours for a few seconds. You saw him pucker his lips slightly as he gathered some saliva, his chiseled lips pursing as he swished it from cheek to cheek, making it thick and warm for you. You didn’t even register that you whined for it, until you heard him scoffing.

And when he finally deemed it appropriate to release his saliva, he made sure to let it happen teasingly slow. It practically dripped from his mouth to yours, and when the warm fluid touched your tongue, you were eager to swallow it–until he moved his hand to grab your chin, forcing you to keep your mouth open. “Don’t swallow… not yet,“ he commanded, watching his spit dancing over your tongue to the back of your throat, and of course you obeyed.

“Good girl.“

You moved your hands to grip his forearm, supporting you enough to withstand his harsh thrusts. The angle allowed him to thrust even deeper into your tight heat, and when Aemond increased the intensity of the vibrations, high pitched gurgles left your throat, the coil in your belly was so close to snapping. It was torture, and you loved it.

A bunch of grunts and expletives spewed from Aemond’s lips as he fought his own urges to cum with your walls sucking him in, determined to first and foremost let you cum before he was to claim you, and show you that you belonged to him and him alone.

He nuzzled his nose along your cheek, pressing a sloppy kiss to it. “You gonna cum for me, pigeon?“ His raspy voice breathed against your hot skin. “Swallow my spit and cum for me.“

The second his spit ran down your throat, you released one pornographic moan after another, slowly grinding yourself against the head of the vibrator, shoving yourself deeper onto his cock. His hand cupped your cheek to press your face against his lips, his heavy breathing and grunts the only sounds filling your ears.

“Mhh, I can feel how bad you want it. Let go for me, Y/N, be a good girl and soak my cock.”

The wand was snugly pressed against your clit, and while it slowly became uncomfortable, it still brought you a good bit of pleasure. But his words and the obscenity of it all was what finally pushed you over the edge.

After a handful of sloppy, yet excruciatingly intense thrusts, you felt it. White spots clouded your vision and your orgasm washed over you, the coil in your belly finally snapping. It was prolonged with Aemond drilling his hips into yours, but you figured it was for him to reach his own peak as well.

It hit him quickly, noticeable in the guttural moan he released. His own pleasure made it difficult for him to maintain the pace of his thrust, so they grew more languid and sharp. When his cock spilled his load deep inside your walls, you whined softly, grinding your hips to help him through his high.

You stayed in that position for a few seconds without either one of you moving, seemingly just enjoying the proximity and the aftershocks that flowed through both your bodies. A twitch of his hand pushed the vibrating wand tighter against your sensitive clit, and it had you jerking back against his body.

“’M sorry,“ Aemond muttered against the side of your face.

The vibrations from the wand ceased instantly when he clicked the power button, and you heard the thud of the toy being tossed somewhere beyond your reach in the vastness of your large bed.

When his cock became flaccid, he pulled out, and you felt his sticky seed seeping slowly from your abused hole down the insides of your thighs.

His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, and you felt the corners of his mouth quirking up just slightly against your lips, satisfied in knowing he’d made a proper mess out of you. He rested his forehead against your temple when he pulled back so that his nose barely brushed against your cheek, the thumping of your steadying heartbeat filling your ears.

The movie had already ended God-knew-when, and only your panting was audible in the safe confines of your bedroom.

“Satisfied?“

You chuckled, and moved to get off the bed to clean yourself up, “You have no idea.“

Aemond followed you into the bathroom to get himself clean as well, huffing at your reply in an amused manner.

“This movie has two more parts. We’re either watching it now or tomorrow morning. I don’t care, but this wasn’t the first and the last time I fucked you.“

General Taglist: @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens

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demonicbaby666 · 7 months

Text

You’re Mine

One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1.5k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, fingering, daddy kink, asphyxiation, sort of public sex being that people are on the other side of a door...

Summary: Natasha has always had a thing for you being hers and only hers. It's one of the things you love about her. However, it's impossibly hard not to rile her up because of her tendency to get overprotective and possessive. This time, you may have pushed her too far. So much so that she takes matters into her own hands with a lot more urgency than what you're used to.

A/n: my finger slipped and turned my laptop's whore mode on xxx

Emerald eyes were glued to the hand on your thigh. Of course, Maria hadn't meant to stir the pot when she'd harmlessly laid her hand down. Someone had made a joke, and after a series of light slaps, her hand just settled. It wasn't uncomfortable initially, but as Natasha's eyes continued to bore into you, it certainly was.

The next thing to do was to simply move Maria's hand away. Yet, there was something so satisfying about Nat's flushed face, reddening from anger, and her auburn hair that seemed to burn brighter similarly that - you didn't care to admit it - made your stomach tense in the best of ways. Was it a good idea to egg her on? Of course not. That didn't stop you from leaning into the casual contact from Maria. The lonely hand on your knee was soon joined by yours.

If Natasha wasn't pissed off before, she sure as hell was now, and you couldn't blame her. It would have been too much for anyone to handle, what with the exaggerated laughs, nudges, and non-existent space between you and Maria. You served up a platter of green and practically spoon-feed envy straight into Nat's mouth, which was now clenched together.

"A word outside," Nat said, suddenly standing above you. The veins in her neck were strained and pulsing; her nostrils flared as heaved breaths racked through her whole body. The tight-fitted shirt she wore rose and fell plain as day, and from this sight alone, you realised you may have pushed too far.

Not waiting for a response, Natasha grabbed your wrist, pulling you up and out of the room - ignoring the following sets of eyes.

Once you were away from said prying eyes, the older woman had you backed against the wall in an instant, eyes of fury scorching through you.

"You think I'd let that slide?" She seethed, wrapping her fingers around your throat, "Do I need to remind you that you're mine?"

The tight, possessive coiling of her fingers burned down your chest and ignited a fire between your legs. Nat had never been shy about where she stood on you getting comfortable with others. Even mentioning previous relationships would have repercussions. Often, these were reminders of how said relationships lacked vital things only Natasha could give you, i.e., the ability to walk the next day.

"No," you squeaked.

"It's obvious I do," Nat growled, sliding a hand between your bodies and roughly palming your breast.

The beginnings of a moan caught in your throat as the auburnette squeezed her fingers tighter around your neck. In some ways, you knew it would boil down to this, though you expected the display of dominance and ownership to come later in the night, when everyone was fast asleep, and no sound made would penetrate the alert ears that filled the room the other side of the wall.

You tried pleading with her, "Nat, they'll hear."

"Let them," she said, her lips inching closer to your ear, "It seems they also need a reminder of who you belong to."

"Nat," you attempted again before you were cut off by the sharp feel of her teeth biting the flesh under your ear.

With her hand still firmly holding you against the wall, airways fighting to get oxygen in, she lowered her hand down your ribcage and cupped your clothes cunt. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, knowing what was to come. It would have been easy for you to say stop or to have pushed Nat away entirely, but excitement was bubbling under the surface, and a large part of you wanted this. To be owned. To be claimed. To be reminded of what happens when you forget your place.

"You want daddy's fingers, don't you?" She muttered into your ear, her tone low, her voice raspy.

"Yes," you shamelessly breathed out.

In one quick move, your body was flipped, face pressed against the wall and hands on either side of your face. One of Natasha's hands held your hip in place, the other slithered between the wall and your stomach, slowly moving south. Deft fingers trailed a line up your thigh, reaching the waistband of your panties and wasted no time delving into the sticky mess she'd created.

"Did having Maria's hands all over you do this?" Nat asked, the disdain in her voice evident.

Having her so close to where you needed, yet refusing to appease your growing desire, had you shaking your head and wriggling your hips, trying to position your clit over her stubborn fingers. However, Natasha was unrelenting and moved her hand away entirely, resting on your jaw and yanking it back so you could face her.

"Tell me who your cunt belongs to," she demanded.

Behind the anger and lust that donned her eyes, once light sage, the shade of dark juniper, you saw a hollowness that encircled and sought to wreak havoc on the one certainty she held sacred - you. Of course, you had always made it clear that you were hers and she was yours, but despite her tough bravado, sometimes she also needed to be reminded. After all, the avenger was only human.

"You," your voice crackled in your throat, desperately trying to remain quiet yet sure in your words when all you wanted was to be mercilessly fucked against the wall, "you, you and only you."

"Good girl." she pecked the underside of your jaw. A smirk lined her smooth, balmed lips as she did so.

You could have cried with joy when Natasha released you and trailed her finger back down to your underwear. Instead, you settled for a soft moan of gratitude when you felt the pressure radiate off your body and the beginnings of lazy circles drawn over your clit.

Despite the urgency that flooded through you and the precarious place where your body was being taken, Nat showed no signs of being in a rush. The languish exploration of a place she knew all too well was still being undergone after gruelling minutes. A complaint had touched the tip of your tongue so many times, and as if the older woman knew when it was coming, she'd give you the tiniest taste of relief and settle back into the depth of endless torture.

It was too much. A lump was caught in your throat, your bottom lip was sore from the firm bite of your teeth, and your body fought to keep itself upright and steady while simultaneously trying to remain docile.

"Please, daddy," you begged, rucking your hips for the hundredth time, "Fuck me."

Immediately, you sensed the change in Nat's stature. She stood taller and closed the space between your bodies, pressing her chest firmly to your back and pushing you further into the wall. The cold paint was welcome against your flushed cheek and cut your gasp off short.

This newfound calm would only last a millisecond before two fingers penetrated the junction between your legs, and a fire set ablaze every living cell in your body.

There was no need to move anymore because the expeditious pace and vigour of Natasha's talented fingers left you sated - in addition to clouding your conscious mind. The only task necessary to focus on, thanks to the body and hand holding you in place against the wall, was breathing.

"Say it again," she ordered.

The moment her thumb made contact with your throbbing clit, a bolt of lightning plummeted through your spine and forced your neck to snap back with a silent whimper. Thankfully, the avenger's quick reflexes came to her aid. She moved her head in time for the back of your head to crash down on her shoulder. The thudded contact would have been painful had it not been for your senses being somewhat preoccupied with the brain-numbing ecstasy that was reaching its peak.

"Fuck me, daddy!"

Careful to make sure the force of her body would be enough to keep you upright, the auburnette wound her arm around your body and placed her hand firmly around your neck. Everything around you faded and ceased to exist; the floor beneath your feet was gone, and you were floating on cotton clouds. You dragged your nails down the wall in an effort to grasp onto something tangible. Instead, the mix of the dulled scratching sounds and emptiness in your palms left you increasingly consumed by the ethereal feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"I'm going to come, daddy," you cried out, surely extracting a snigger from someone on the other side of the wall, "Please keep going."

"You're mine," Natasha uttered into your ear, squeezing the sides of your throat harder. She ran her thumb faster over your clit, curved her fingers at the end of each thrust, and within the next few seconds, the stars in your visions illuminated a blacked-out night sky.

"Mine."

When you regained the ability to see again, you spun around and crashed your lips to Nat's. It took her by surprise, though quickly enough, she reciprocated and poured every ounce of love she had into the kiss.

"I'm yours," you whispered softly against her lips, "and only yours."

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel fanfiction

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weasleyreidstyles · 5 months

Text

Serendipity

chapter two

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): slight mind manipulation?

series masterlist; previous part; next part

At some point during the feast, you managed to sneak your way onto the Gryffindor table, sliding into the seat beside Ginny, who was sat with Dean Thomas to her other side, who shifted uncomfortably everytime Ron glared at the hand that was grazing his sister's.

"Nice face, Harold." you say sarcastically. "Who healed the break? It looks rushed."

"Thanks Meadow." he snarks before deflating further in his seat as your eyes tracked him for more injuries. "Tonks walked me from the train."

You hummed in acknowledgment before you went over the unhealed scabs and dried patches of blood with wordless spells which always left your friends marvelling at your skill.

"There. Now your face is pretty as ever." you say smirking, patting Harry's cheek which he swats away. "Can't have the 'Chosen One' at his worst now, can we?"

"Piss off." he grumbled but it was only banter between two friends.

"How are you, really, Harry? Where'd you disappear to on the train." you wanted to hear him say it, even if you did trust Theo's word.

"I was right about Malfoy-" he starts before you interrupt him.

"So I've heard. You've taken up stalking as a hobby now, Potter? That's low." you chuckle, which turns into a full on laugh as he glares at you, annoyed.

"He's a Death Eater." he lowers his voice, but his admission sucks the happiness right out of the air. "He was talking about some task that Voldemort has for him."

He pauses as if his mind is trying to catch up with the words tumbling from his mouth, before he looks directly at you, as if he's staring through you.

"You've seen Nott today right? And Parkinson?" you nodded. "What did they talk about? Did Nott talk about his father being caught at the Ministry? Or did-"

You raised a singular brow at your friend as if to say 'are you finished?'.

"Yes I saw them today, in the Prefects' carriage. We just caught up with small talk and some gossip about some Hufflepuff couple. Nothing more." the lie was quickly thought out and also not too far fetched – Pansy had mentioned something about a new couple in passing before you'd parted ways on the train.

"Nothing about tasks or creepy shops?" Ron asked as he shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. You watched him, discust painting your features.

"Nothing about tasks, and certainly nothing about creepy shops. Please chew with your mouth closed, Ronald. Seriously Harry? Stalking?"

He only shrugged at you before turning to his plate of food. He was clearly put out about something and you would bet all your galleons that it had to do with the couple next to you, who were being nauseating, to put it lightly.

You and Hermione giggled as Ron muttered about his sister and her boyfriend showing any ounce of affection in front of him, sharing a glance as Harry continued to glance at them before looking away, visibly annoyed.

When Dumbledore began to stand in front of the House tables, you slipped back into your seat beside Luna; in the corner of your eye you watched as Theo gave you the subtlest of nods.

"The very best of evenings to you!" Dumbledore announced, smiling broadly, his arms outstretched wide as if he were embracing the whole room. That's when you, and the rest of the Hogwarts student body, noticed that his right hand appeared to have started decaying at a rapid rate.

You made eye contact with Pansy who looked as horrified as everyone else.

What the fuck? She practically screamed into your mind as the sound of people whispering swept through the hall.

Dumbledore merely smiled before he shook the sleeve of his purple and gold cloak over his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now...to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you..."

You drowned out the rest of his speech, like you do every year, instead conversing with Pansy in your head.

It looks like his hand has physically died. You say to her. It's got to be dark magic of some sort.

But what business does Dumbledore have messing with that sort of evil? She sounded as nauseated as you felt just thinking about it.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn-" Dumbledore said, prompting the man that you had yet to meet to stand up. "-is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

You swivelled in your seat to find Hermione in the crowds and mouthed 'potions?' to her with confusion written all over your face.

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right.

"But if he's the Potions Professor, then who will be teaching Defence?" Cho spoke from across the table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Well that answered that question.

"No!" you giggled quietly with Luna as everyone's heads swivelled back and forth between Harry, who had shouted so loudly but didn't seem to care, Snape and Dumbledore.

And suddenly Defence is my least favourite subject. Theo spoke, making you choke on your drink as you laugh.

As if oblivious to the uproar his announcement just caused, Dumbledore waited only a few moments before the hall descended into silence once more, before continuing his long winded speech.

"Now as everyone in this Hall is aware," he pointedly looked anywhere but in the direction of the Slytherin table, "Lord Voldemort and his followers once again walk among us and gain strength and numbers everyday."

Suddenly the heads that were staring in Harry's direction turned pointedly to where Mattheo Riddle and his friends were sitting. Instead of shying away from their gazes, like Pansy and Daphne Greengrass and few others did, he continued to stare ahead at Dumbledore, seemingly unbothered by the attention he was garnering.

The silence seemed to strain painfully as Dumbledore spoke. But you seemed to zone out of what he was saying. Something about the castle's protection wards being fortified and strengthened; extra security; stricter curfew at night, etc. You took in none of it, instead focusing on your friends at the Slytherin table, who grew paler by the second. You'd watch out for them this year, especially Theo. None of them deserved to be put into the position they no doubt would all be in, come Christmas time.

Dumbledore's blue twinkling eyes swept over the students once more. "But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

Your lessons tomorrow.

You wished it was as simple as school work, but you knew it would be anything but.

~∞~

You woke up early the next morning, the anticipation for what the day may bring making your anxiety skyrocket as you got ready to leave for the Great Hall, in which the ceiling sported a brilliantly blue sky, only a few clouds dotting the illusion. You met the Golden trio there, who were busy discussing Harry's theory about Malfoy.

"Well obviously Riddle's already inducted." Ron muttered as you sat down, a speck of blue, in a sea of red. "He is his father's son, after all."

"Still going on your Malfoy-is-a-death eater spiel? The day has hardly begun." you said as you piled scrambled eggs onto a plate, ignoring the pointed look that Professor Mcgonagall gave you as she handed out her House's timetables.

Ron seemed to be getting more agitated by the second as another group of third years on the table beside your's pointed between the four of you and whispered, not so discreetly, about what happened in June.

"It's rude to point." he snapped, sending a glare their way, causing them to turn around, cheeks painted with embarrassment.

"So sixth year looks very bare in comparison to last year, doesn't it." you say, steering Ron's glare from the backs of their heads while you looked over his timetable.

"I love being a sixth year already." Ron said, his mood brightening visibly thanks to your interference. "And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up in the common room and relax."

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione berated as you laughed.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

"I wouldn't speak too soon, Ronald." you say with a smirk as Professor Mcgonagall makes her way over to the four of you. You'd already gotten your timetable the from Professor Flitwick that morning and found out that you were in the same classes as Hermione. You both finished off your plates and left Harry and Ron in favour of getting to Ancient Runes, where Theo and Riddle were waiting for you.

Reaching the classroom, you spotted Theo immediately and went to snag the seat beside him, but Pansy beat you to it with a playful smirk.

"Come and sit by me, Princess." you glared at your two friends as you turned around to find Riddle with his arm stretched over the back of the spare seat of his desk. "I don't bite."

"Somehow I highly doubt that." you mumbled as you searched for Hermione, who had chosen to sit near the front of the room, the seat beside her already taken. Traitor. She only looked at you apologetically before turning around.

You slumped into the seat, pointedly ignoring him as you took out your things. You could hear Theo and Pansy laughing at your expense so you sent a small stinging jinx wandlessly their way, smirking when they yelped in surprise.

"Smart girl." Riddle mumbled to himself, probably not intending for you to hear, but your cheeks flushed all the same.

"So was Theo lying about your disastrous ability to desipher runes, or was that just a way to get me to agree for your...help?" you ask, still choosing to igore him.

"Oh I assure you I'm quite terrible, Princess. Awful. In fact I'm not sure how I got back into this class, if I'm being entirely honest." he said it with a shrug before he smirked at you again. "I'm sure you can help me. You are top of the class, after all."

"Actually Mione was top of the class at the end of last year. Why not ask her?" you ask, glancing at him through the corner of your eye. He had turned to look directly at you, but his hand was still on the back of your chair.

You try, and fail, to push it off, sneering at the muscular appendage in offence. Damn him and his strong, quidditch arms.

"Theodore doesn't trust Granger, he trusts you. Therefore, I'm putting my trust into your...abilities to help me out."

Lovely. His words carried a double meaning. You were really considering hexing Theo and Pansy again for putting you in this situation.

His huff of laughter along with the burning pinch at the base of your skull were the only indications that he'd heard your thoughts.

After Defence, wait for me so that we can discuss the nature of your lessons and my apparent tutlage.

You ignored him for the rest of the lesson, but wordlessly agreed, nonetheless.

~∞~

You were complaining to Hermione the whole walk to the Defence classroom, and while she was amused, there was underlying worry in her responses.

"So he wants you to tutor him?" she asks curiously.

"Not a clue why." you say flipantly. "If I was him I'd much rather you taught me."

"Well I am a muggleborn, for starters." she says self-depricatingly and continues speaking, not allowing you to rebute her statement. "And you're still at the top of the class. Christ, you can do most spells non-verbally and wandlessly, far better than I can. I think I'd rather you than me, too. No offence."

You only smiled sarcastically at her. "I don't think anyone would willingly tutor him. Perhaps I should bargain a favour with him instead."

You left out the part where he was already fulfilling a kind of favour, for Theodore and Pansy, no less.

"One class in and my shoulders already ache." you whine as you rolled your shoulder to ease the pain that your heavy bag was causing. Harry and Ron met you outside the classroom a moment later, staring, horrified, at Hermione's armful of heavy books.

"We've gotten so much homework for Runes already." she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Now I see why we have so many frees this year." you grumble.

"Shame," Ron said with a yawn, before smirking at the two of you.

"Just you wait," she said resentfully. "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened as she spoke and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy black hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The Defence classroom was gloomier than ever, but thankfully it was no longer sickeningly pink and filled to the brim with plates of cat photos. The dark curtains were drawn across the windows and the only light came from the numerous candles that dotted the room, insighting a headache when you tried to read the blackboard. Snape's personality appeared to shine all over the room, from the odd portraits to the weird contraptions that littered the space.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and I require your fullest attention. You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."

His dark, beady eyes scanned the room.

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." he set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a low voice that you desperately wanted to drown out. But the burning sensation at the back of your skill prohibited you from doing just that.

No. Pay attention. Riddle was becoming a thorn in your side, and its only the first day.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster. Each time a neck is severed, it sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Someone read up on their Greek mythology this summer. You say to Theo, who smirks behind his hand.

"Your defences," Snape continued, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse-" he waved a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony; "-feel the Dementor's Kiss-" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall; "-or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati Patil asked in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."

You really did drown him out this time. Thinking about his wording. To your knowledge, only his followed gave him the name 'the Dark Lord', so why was Snape using that name? You filed away the information as he paced across the classroom.

"....you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, pointledly looking in your direction where your hands stayed glued to your sides, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she stated, "which gives you a split-second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively. "But correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze lingered maliciously upon Harry, "lack."

The Professor's beady eyes landed on you once more, a challenge present in them.

"Miss Meadow, come up to the front." everyone's eyes were on you as he beckoned you forward, so you obeyed. "I want you to demonstrate this skill. On me." He motioned for you to stand on one side of the room, while he stayed at the other.

You shook off your limps and, using your wand rather than just doing it wandlessly, you shot out a disarming spell, which Snape blocked.

"Good. Now try again." he said as he shot his own disarming spell at you, which you wordlessly blocked with a flick of your wand.

This back and forth continued for five or so more minutes before Snape managed to catch you off guard and disarm you with a minute flick of his wrist.

"Very good. Now following that example, you will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

People paired off, you choosing to partner with Mione who looked determined to perfect this new skill. Everyone who was part of the DA in the previous year were practically experts at casting spells, but none of them, bar you, could perform the Charms wordlessly. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud, including Ron, which only made you laugh as you watched as Harry blocked his every attack.

Of course, Hermione had gotten the hang of it within ten minutes of practice, as did Theo and Zabini and Riddle. Harry and Ron were still struggling, along with Pansy and Lorenzo.

To say you were bored was an understatement. Snape had already known that you were skilled with wordless and apparently wandless magic too, which meant that he could clearly see into your mind – yet another reason why Riddle needed to teach you control. The only other interesting thing to happen was Harry blatently sassing your Professor, which left you and Hermione gaping and Ron, Dean and Seamus grinning at him.

Once the lesson had ended, Snape in a more abysmal mood than usual after Harry made a fool out of him, you lingered in the corridor, waiting for Riddle to leave so that you could get the interaction over with.

"Hey Meadow! You coming?" Ron asked loudly from the end of the hallway. He looked at you with an odd expression on his face which morphed into unwilling understanding when you felt Theo's presence beside you.

"I'll be there in a bit. I'll meet you in the courtyard." you shout back as you turn towards Theo and his friends.

"Some lesson that was, right tesoro?" Theo asks you as he wraps a strong arm around your shoulder, steering you in the direction of the rest of his group, who were looking between you, Theo and Mattheo with matching expressions on their faces.

"What the hell is she doing here, Nott?" Malfoy asks, looking at you with distain. You glared back at him, about to respond when his familiar deep voice answers instead.

"She's here for me." Riddle says. "Go on ahead. I won't be a moment."

Its Zabini who steers Malfoy away from his glaring contest with you, and Theo who wordlessly wishes you luck with a pat to the top of your head.

"So you're going to teach me control?" you ask as you lean against the nearest wall. He rolls his eyes and wraps a giant hand around your wrist.

"Yes." he hissed. "But not here. How stupid are you? Talking about it out in the open, by a classroom, nonetheless."

Your eyes only widened in mild surprise as he began dragging you down the corridor in the direction that his friends went, but he turned into an empty broom cupboard instead.

"Salazar, if you wanted to get me alone like this there were far better ways of asking Riddle." you say sarcastically, but your eyes show a teasing challenge as you stare up at him.

"Was that an offer, Princess?" he asks with that wicked smirk of his.

"Read the room, Riddle. I'd rather sleep with a troll." you snark.

"Suit yourself." he chuckles before his face sets into that serious look he seems to have mastered in his years at Hogwarts. "The first step to learning full control is learning how to ground yourself."

You look at him expectantly which made him roll is eyes.

"You have to find a happy medium in your head that allows you to keep control of what you don't want people to see, and who you let into your head." he explains motioning to his own head as he speaks.

"So that horrible burning feeling in the back of my skull whenever you get in my head-" you begin.

"Is only there because it lets you know that someone unwanted is using Occlimency on you. The fact that you can't block me out is what we need to work on. Does the same happen with Theodore and Pansy when you communicate with them?"

"No. They're presence is wanted. Yours," you trail your eyes up and down what you can see of his tall frame in the dark, "is not."

"Well until you do accept me in your subconscious, it'll continue to hurt and it'll hurt more when you're trying to block it out." he says and to demonstrate he begins rifling through your thoughts and feelings with little to no effort, that burning sensation appearing like a pinch once again. You cradle you head in your hands, a cry escaping your lips.

Walking to the Great Hall for breakfast that morning, anxiety knawing at your insides.

Harry's Malfoy-is-a-death-eater spiel.

Your mini-dual with Snape.

How you want Riddle to rip your clothes right off your body and have him take you-

That wasn't right. You managed to mentally push him right out of your mind with more effort than you reckon it would take for you to haul a quaffle into the goal. It made your head ache.

"What the fuck was that?!" you snap, hitting his arm.

"You're a fast learner. Well done. It takes most people multiple sessions to do what you just did." he looks...proud. It stirs something strange in your gut.

"What did I just do?" you asked, intrigued, scared, confused.

"You just succeeded in blocking me out of your head." he smirked lightly, almost showing a ghost of a smile.

We're going to have lots of fun, Princess.

He was still in your head. His deep voice filling every corner of your mind, but that burning sensation was no longer present. It no longer stung and he was no longer able to rifle through your thoughts. Only converse with you, like you could with Theo and Pansy.

"We'll do this twice a week, until you can block me out without thinking about it." he said as he walked towards the door, leaving you standing motionlessly in the dark.

~∞~

icl the whole plot of this is heavily inspired by my beloved xaden and violet's bond with all their mind talking and arguing🤭🤭 (minus the dragons, etc)

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #professor snape #ravenclaw x slytherin #serendipity series

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spideytingley · 5 days

Text

my april fic recs!

percy jackson & the olympians

luke castellan

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

twin beads by @supercutszns

summary: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder.

ACOTAR

azriel

a healer’s touch by @bat-boys

summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.

eye of the storm (series) by @thesunloveschips

summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

missed target by @imaginesmai

summary: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

if it all fell by @pellucid-constellations

summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

notice me! by @heartless-tate

summary: Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

love of choice by @writingcroissant

summary: The Cauldron doesn’t always pick wisely when it comes to mates, but even though Azriel isn’t hers, she chooses him.

bluebird (series) by @acourtofwhatthefuck

let me keep you company by @utterlyazriel

summary: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

strings that bind us by @parkerslatte

summary: Y/N owns a small bookstore in Velaris. When she struggles to take her stock in, a handsome stranger approaches her and offers her help. She accepts the help and Y/N insists on making him dinner for his help. Azriel originally denies this but he finds himself eventually saying yes for reasons he doesn’t understand quite yet.

wings by @itsswritten

summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

you don’t get to tell me about sad by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

marvel

bucky barnes

always you, forever by @pellucid-constellations

summary: Bucky wants to take you away from it all. This time, you might just let him.

clark kent

handyman by @itsrubberbisquit

summary: Clark has been smitten with his accident-prone neighbor for quite some time. She tracks him down to make a familiar request with an unusual ending.

jason todd

four times red hood blushed because of you, and one time jason todd blushed by @mxtantrights

grishaverse

nikolai lanstov

this is me trying by @criminalamnesia

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

dancing with our hands tied by @criminalamnesia

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 11 months

Text

Web of Lies.

Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep any from you.

Pairing - Spiderman!Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count - 3750

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. mentions of violence and blood. potentially smut in the next chapters.

Author's Note - i am so excited to share this with all of you!! i saw a tiktok comparing marvel characters to criminal minds characters, and couldn't get the idea of spencer as spiderman out of my head. this will absolutely have more than one part, but i'm not sure how many just yet. please let me know what you think!! as always, reblogs, comments and feedback are always immensely appreciated <3

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Series Masterlist.

You probably should have noticed something was wrong way before you did.

That's the thing about elusive people - and Spencer Reid is one mysterious man.

In many ways, he wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn't filter his words like most people do - he'll tell you exactly what he thinks, exactly what he feels. He doesn't sugar coat, he doesn't exaggerate. You can always count on Spencer to tell it to you straight.

But he's not exactly an open book. You know he had a difficult childhood - you've pieced some of it together based on anecdotes and passing comments. You know he's the youngest person to ever work for the FBI, never mind the esteemed Behavioural Analysis Unit. You know he's gentle, kind, loving, supportive, and the best friend and colleague you could ever ask for.

It's just that some days, it feels like there's still so much you don't know. Which is why you never really saw this coming.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Monday.

Spencer Reid has a black eye.

It's not unusual for you to show up to work on Monday with Fridays injuries. Bruises, scrapes, broken bones. They all come along as a part of the job. But the last case you worked didn't involve any physical altercations. No, in fact, it was a surprisingly easy arrest. So why is Spencer black and blue?

He sits down at his desk and turns on his computer, unaware of the way you're watching him like a hawk. Reading him like a book. You're replaying the events of the last case, trying to piece together exactly when Spencer had gotten hurt without you knowing.

"Hey, Spence?" you call, making your way over to where he's sat cross legged in his chair.

His eyes flick up and meet yours, and something in you churns. An alarm bell goes off somewhere in your distant mind, but you silence it, perching on the edge of his desk.

"Are you okay?"

He smiles at you gently, enamoured with the care you reserve just for him.

"I'm good. How are you? How was your weekend? Did you go to the new farmers market in the end? Did you start that book I got you?"

It's not unusual for him to ask you twenty questions at once, so you try to answer them as best as you can, eyes still glued to his shiny bruise.

"Yeah, I'm good. It was good, despite all that rain we had. Luke took me to the farmers market, and we tried these new grapes. Did you know they made grapes that taste like cotton candy? I saved you some, they're in my bag. I'm on chapter three of the book, so nothing has really happened yet. Where'd you get the bruise, Genius?"

You're hoping that your rambling will catch him off guard, and he'll answer without thinking. He looks at you carefully, considering his reply. No such luck.

"Fell in my kitchen. Tripped over my own damn shoes, smacked my face straight into the counter," he chuckles.

It does sound like Spencer. He's clumsy on the best of days, always dropping something or stumbling next to you. It's not far fetched that his own feet have caused him an injury.

You drop the issue, and laugh along with the team when they tease him about his physical ineptitude.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Tuesday.

Spencer Reid is a bad liar.

You're both settled into the cushions of your couch, eyes glued to the television screen. You're watching reruns of a 90s sitcom, the laugh track echoing around the apartment.

"That paramedic was totally checking you out today," you tease gently, poking him with your foot.

A blush instantly rises to his cheeks, the rosy tint a familar picture.

"No she wasn't," he counters, tripping over his words. "She was just doing her job."

"If by doing her job you mean undressing you with her eyes, then yes, she was doing her job."

You're both laughing - you at Spencer's bashful expression, him at your obliviousness.

"Are you jealous?"

He means to tease you, but it comes out more serious than intended. Your smile drops into a surprised smirk, eyebrows raising in shock.

You sit in silence for a minute, before you confess quietly.

"Maybe a little."

Spencer tries to process your words, but his brain doesn't want to work, apparently.

"Wait... you are?"

"I guess," you mutter lowly. "I just... forget I said anything. She was really pretty. Maybe I was just a little intimated."

You jokingly nudge him with your shoulder, and go back to watching the TV. Spencer's brain finally reboots and starts running a mile a minute, thoughts flying around like comets shooting through the night sky.

You sit together for hours, slipping into sleep gently. It isn't unusual for the two of you to doze off on the couch. Sleepovers happen regularly, both of you completely comfortable with the other person.

It's 3am when Spencer shoots up, pulling on his converse frantically.

"What's wrong?" you panic, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Nothing. I just, uh, I have to go."

He grabs his bag and beelines for the front door without so much as stopping to explain himself.

"Spencer!" you call after him, willing him to slow down for minute. "Has something happened?"

"No, it's fine. I'll, uh, explain some other time. Just... just get some sleep. I've really gotta run."

And with that, he's out the door, leaving you bleary eyed and confused in the middle of your living room.

You fall asleep on the couch, head resting on the sweater that Spencer left behind in his rush to leave.

You're half convinced you've dreamt the events of the evening.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Wednesday.

Spencer Reid isn't at work.

Spencer Reid is always at work.

Emily regularly has to remind him to take time off. Luke teases that he'll steal his vacation hours if Spence doesn't use them. He's always sat at his desk, waiting for everyone else to arrive every morning.

Which is why his absence is making you worried.

The occurrences of last night are still replaying in your head like a stuck video tape, repeating over and over again. You're over analysing every word he said, every move he made. Leaving in a hurry without reason is so unlike Spencer. You consider supernatural forces, or possession, or Freaky Friday style body swapping. There's no logical explanation for his behaviour, you're convinced. Monday's black eye floats back into your mind, and your heart rate rises ever so slightly.

You march up the stairs and knock on Emily's office window with a bit more force than originally intended.

"Come in."

You swing the door open and slam it shut behind you, anxiety coursing through your veins.

"Hey, hey. Are you alright?" she asks, watching the way your eyes are flicking around the room, looking for clues.

"Where's Spencer?"

"What?"

"Emily. Where's Spencer?"

She gets up from her chair to stand in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"He's sick, some sort of flu, he thinks. I've told him to go back to bed, and to call if he needs anything."

Her words don't reassure you like she thought they would.

"Did he sound sick?"

"Huh?"

"Did he sound sick, when he called?"

"I don't know, really. I guess so."

"You're a profiler, Emily. You should be able to tell if he's sick or not," you snap.

"Woah," she counters. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You sit down in the nearest chair, and run your hands over your face.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she reassures, kneeling in front of you. "Tell me what's going on, and I can try to help."

"It's nothing, I'm sure," you rationalise. "I'm just worried about him. Something's off, but I have no idea what it is."

You take a deep breath, Emily rubbing soothing circles into your knee.

"You know, if he were to talk to anyone about what was wrong, it'd be you."

"You think?"

"I don't think, I know."

It's no secret that you and Spencer are close. You've been best friends from the minute you joined the team, forming a connection instantly. As the years have gone by, the feelings have gotten stronger, but the both of you are too scared to admit it to yourselves or each other. You'd do anything for him, and he would do anything for you.

"Maybe you're right. I'll go over there after work and talk to him, see if I can get him to open up."

Emily leans down and gives you a hug, squeezing you a little tighter than usual.

"I'm always here for you. Both of you."

"I know," you smile gratefully. "I appreciate it, boss."

Just as you're leaving her office, Penelope calls you all into the briefing room, giving you no time to think about what could potentially be going on.

You look at the victims faces on the screen, and every single one seems to look like Spencer Reid.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Thursday.

Spencer Reid is having a panic attack.

He's back at work, making a seemingly miraculous recovery from his short lived illness. You went to his apartment last night after work as promised, but your knocking went unanswered. You don't know where he was, but you're worried.

You've been watching him across the bullpen all morning. You're surveying him carefully when his breathing becomes rapid, eyes flickering around the room. He stands up abruptly, practically running from his desk. You follow him instinctively, all the way into the men's bathroom. He's leaning over the sink, hands gripping the porcelain, knuckles turning white. His eyes are locked on himself in the mirror. He looks as if he doesn't recognise who he sees.

"Spence?" you urge gently, careful to keep your voice low. "Are you alright?"

His gaze meets yours over his shoulder, and he tenses even more. A wave of anxiety rolls through you. Usually, Spencer sees you and relaxes - you're like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, you're not sure where you stand with him.

"Spence, please. Talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," he snaps.

He's never taken that tone with you before. It doesn't make you as sad as it probably should. No, it makes you angry.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way," you hiss, pointing your finger at him. "I am trying to help you. Don't push me away."

"What's it gonna take for you to leave me alone?" he asks viciously.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, shock painting your features.

"You know what? Fine. Message received."

You turn on your heel and stride towards the door, stopping when you've swung it open. You look at him over your shoulder, and shake your head, a humourless laugh escaping you.

"Fuck you, Spencer Reid."

You slam the door behind you, leaving him alone, chest heaving and hands shaking.

✵

You're marching back to your desk when JJ calls the team together. You take a deep breath and try to release the anger from your body, but it proves difficult. It's tangled itself around your bones, running through your blood like a flash flood. You paint a smile on your face, and take your seat in the briefing room.

Spencer joins a couple of minutes later, choosing to sit across the table, rather than in his usual chair next to you. Luke takes the place instead, and reaches over to rest a hand on your thigh.

"You okay?" he murmurs lowly, careful to not make a scene.

"Yeah," you whisper back, fingers tangling with his where they rest on your leg. "I'm okay."

JJ pulls up the case details on the screen, and Luke doesn't let go of your hand.

"Where are we jetting off to today?" Matt asks, all eyes on the blonde at the front of the room.

"Nowhere, actually. Local, this time."

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, glad to stay close to home.

"Okay, the nearest PD have just sent this case through, and it's... weird."

"Weird how?" Tara enquires. It's not often that JJ comments on a case before she's shared all of the details.

"It's a man hunt, of sorts. They're calling him a vigilante."

"Ooo, like a supervillain?" Luke chuckles.

When JJ doesn't laugh, he doubles down.

"Wait, we're not actually catching a supervillain, are we?"

Everyone turns to JJ, who looks just as confused as the rest of you feel.

"Well... kinda?"

You allow your eyes to flick to Spencer, who's still breathing heavily, hand gripping the edge of the table. JJ clicks the remote in her hand, and a picture of a man in a red suit appears on the screen.

"This is the guy they're calling Spiderman. He's been spotted at multiple crime scenes over the last few weeks. He's making a hell of a lot of people very suspicious."

"Spiderman? Why is his costume red?" Tara asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Aren't there red spiders?" Rossi counters.

"Reid, are there red spiders?"

All heads turn to look at Spencer, who's gone completely pale. He tunes into the conversation, clearly not listening.

"Hmm?"

"I said, are there red spiders?"

"Yeah," he replies shortly. Everyone waits for him to spit his facts, to explain the different species, but he doesn't. His head drops slightly, a signal that he's done talking.

Everyone watches him in puzzlement, confused by his sudden silence.

"Anyway," JJ starts, "he's been linked to a number of local crimes. It started off as battery, assault, GBH - but last night there was a murder downtown, and he was spotted at the scene. He's prime suspect."

"Apart from, we don't know who he is," Matt adds.

"Exactly. That's why the police department have called us in. They can't handle it on their own."

Penelope starts to pass around case files, everyone flicking through at their own pace. Spencer doesn't even open his, just stares at it where it sits on the table.

"Reid, are you alright?" Emily asks, concerned.

"I'm fine. I just need some air," he replies quickly, taking his papers and striding out of the room.

You watch him go, squeezing Lukes hand a little harder.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It's Friday.

Spencer Reid is in trouble.

He's in too deep.

He can't remember the last time he took a deep breath.

His shoulders are so tense, it's a struggle to pull his sweater on.

His hands shake as he reads the case file from yesterday again.

Spiderman. Male. Mid twenties to early thirties. Slim build. Tall. Local - knows the area. Must have a connection to the police - perhaps his own radio.

Spencer accidentally knocks his knee into the desk, and winces. The wound he haphazardly stitched throbs beneath his corduroy trousers, and he prays he's not about to bleed through the material. People are asking enough questions as it is.

"Reid, Alvez, grab your jackets. You're going to the crime scene," Emily calls from up the stairs.

You watch as Spencer rises from his chair, making note of the way he's carefully putting more weight on his right leg. He rolls his shoulders once, twice, three times, before picking up his bag and heading out the door. Luke shoots you a wink as he follows him out, making you smile gently.

You decide to take a trip to see Garcia. She always knows how to take your mind off things.

You cruise into her office, instantly sitting in her spare chair, twirling in circles.

"God, you and Genius are like the same person," she giggles. "He does the exact same thing when he comes in here."

You smile instinctively, and then remember the way he spoke to you yesterday. The way he's treated you this week. The way he's acted as if you didn't exist all day. Your smile fades, and she notices.

"Is everything okay with you two?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath to try and prevent yourself from crying.

"I don't know."

"Oh, honey."

Penelope rolls over to you in her chair, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

"He won't tell me what's wrong, and pushes me away when I try to ask. We had a fight yesterday, and now he won't even look at me. I don't know what I've done to make him hate me all of a sudden," you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

"He doesn't hate you," she murmurs soothingly into your hair. "He loves you more than anyone in the entire world."

"I'm not so sure that's true," you whisper.

"It is. I promise you. He's never been good at talking about his feelings. I'm sure whatever it is, he'll tell you soon enough. You'll work this out - you always do."

You let her hold you for a little longer, sinking into her embrace. Maybe she's right. Maybe it'll all be alright.

✵

After work, you try to relax.

You cook dinner, run yourself a bubble bath. You watch a cheesy movie, eat the good chocolate you've been saving. You snuggle into the couch, pulling a blanket over your legs. But you can't settle.

Usually, a Friday night would mean a sleepover. You and Spencer order takeout, tangle your legs together and fall asleep, chattering about nothing and everything. But tonight, you're alone. You can't stand it anymore.

Throwing on the sweater that Spencer left on Tuesday, you slip on your shoes and get in your car. You drive on autopilot, mind zoned out completely. Before you know it, you're parking on the street below Spencer's apartment building.

You're met with silence when you knock on the door. You try again, and still, nothing.

A choked sob escapes you, and you rest your forehead against the wood. The tears flow freely, forming a puddle on the welcome mat.

The welcome mat.

You pull it back roughly, and find the spare key that he irresponsibly leaves there. Letting yourself into his apartment, you inhale deeply. It smells so distinctly like Spencer. The familar scent used to bring you comfort. Now, it just makes you cry harder.

You collapse on his kitchen floor, letting your head fall back against the cabinet. After an hour or so, you allow your eyes to drift closed, knees hugged tightly to your chest.

✵

You're abruptly awoken by a door slamming shut.

You jump to your feet, and let out a startled sound. Running into the living room, you expect to see Spencer, but he's nowhere to be found. You tune in to the sound of running water, and assume he's in the shower. You perch on the edge of the couch and wait.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer asks as he makes his way into the room.

He doesn't sound scared, or confused, or shocked. It almost feels like he knew you were here.

"I couldn't sleep," you reply cautiously. "Where have you been? It's 4am."

"I couldn't sleep either."

"Yeah? Then why are you bleeding?"

He turns towards the mirror on the wall, and lays eyes on a gash across his cheekbone. He definitely didn't see that before.

"Slipped in the shower."

You jump to your feet, rage fuelling your movements.

"Stop fucking lying!"

Now he looks shocked. He's taken aback, stepping away from you slowly.

"I... I'm not," he says meekly. He doesn't even believe his own lie.

"You're doing it again! What did I do, Spencer? What did I do to lose all of your trust?!"

He tries to calm you down, but it just makes you angrier.

"Tell me!" you scream at him. "I'm going insane, Spencer! I'm going fucking insane!"

"It's not your fault," he tries to explain. "You haven't done anything wrong, I promise."

"Then why don't you love me anymore?" you sob. Your knees give way, and you fall to the ground, cries wracking your exhausted frame.

Spencer's heart breaks so hard, he's convicted he can hear it shatter.

He strides over, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. The contact makes you cry more, tears soaking into his t shirt.

"I could never stop loving you," he whispers. "Nothing in the world could ever make me stop loving you."

You pull back to look at him, astounded by his confession.

"I'm trying to protect you," he continues quietly. "I'm doing this because I love you."

You thread your hands through his hair and pull him towards you, pressing your lips to his urgently. He cradles your face and kisses you back, ignoring the way your tears drip down his face. You tug him closer, desperate for this moment to never end.

He's finally here. Back in your arms, where he belongs.

Eventually, you pull away, gasping for air. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and his eyes well up with emotion.

"Hey," you soothe, stroking his cheek with your thumb gently. "It's okay. You're okay. We're okay."

"I feel like I'm drowning," he whispers.

"Whatever it is, Spence, we'll figure it out. We always do."

"What if we can't this time?"

"Then we come up with a plan B. And a plan C. And a plan D. We've got at least 26 plans before we run out of letters."

He chuckles, but there's no laughter in it. You tilt his chin towards you, so your eyes are locked.

"I'm not going anywhere," you murmur. "No matter what it is, I'm not going anywhere."

He takes a deep breath, and releases it shakily.

"Promise?"

You smile gently, and take a deep breath to mirror his.

"I promise."

He nods slowly, and moves to sit in front of you cross legged. You match his movements and do the same, facing him assuredly.

"I have to tell you something. And you can't tell anyone, ever," he begins. "It's going to change the way you look at me. It's going to change the way you love me. It's going to change everything."

"You can tell me, Spence," you reassure. "You can trust me."

Spencer takes a deep breath - and then a second, and a third. His eyes bore into yours, and he inhales again, before uttering the words that will undoubtedly change both of your lives completely.

"I'm Spiderman."

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

Hold You in My Arms

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Even with its outdated interior and the limitations that entails, The Razor Crest is your home. You find there is a certain charm about the old ship even if the bunk is a little uncomfortable. Though, it's even better when there is a Mandalorian to cuddle, armour and all. Word Count: 2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: None! ✯ Author's Note: This is set pre-series! A little tooth-rottingly sweet fluffy oneshot for this fine Friday. I wanted to make Din a human weighted-blanket and I yearn to run my fingers through his curls. This was the result. Hope you enjoyed! (The title comes from the song Starlight by Muse).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The sensation of cool metal against your cheek rudely interrupts the warm embrace of sleep, within which you were blissfully enveloped until only moments ago. You recoil at the sudden frigidity, your sleep-addled brain struggling to comprehend the cause for your discomfort. The presence has mercilessly encroached into the peaceful state of slumber you had drifted off into. Which is a miraculous feat, given the cramped surroundings you retire to each night.

Somehow, nestled between the thin sheets that lay atop the firm bunk – which causes your back to ache if you fall asleep in ever so slightly the wrong position – you have been in such a deep, restful state of sleep that being so rudely awakened from it almost makes you want to sob at the injustice. After all, it is a marvel that you ever found yourself so comfortable in the first place. The cramped bunk is tucked away like an afterthought in a corner of the dark hull that forms the main living area of the ship you soar through the stars in.

Yet, the ship has not been racing through the stars for the past few days. Instead, you have found yourself confined to the groaning metallic structure as you await the return of the man who made your new life possible. Din Djarin rescued you from a monotonous, destitute life and whisked you away in the stars, a debt that you are certain you will never adequately repay. It doesn’t stop you from trying your best every day that you are privileged enough to spend at his side though. A feat you at least attempt, by pouring every ounce of yourself into loving him. You know that Din never expects anything in return. Everything he has is yours and he adores providing for you, finally having a purpose for the payments he receives from bounty hunting. Even so, you can’t help but feel as though you owe him. So, you do your best to love him unconditionally.

Before you met Din, he was a solitary figure, cutting a lonely path through the galaxy. You changed everything. Din often compares you to a sunrise after a dark night, one that he did not realise quite how grim and gloomy it had been. You are a vibrant presence that brought light into his life. He never tires of telling you how much you mean to him, how deeply he loves you. With all of that in mind, how could you not put everything into loving a man as incredible as Din Djarin?

At present, though, you almost want to throttle him.

As when your eyelids fly open at the frigid contact, it is the distinctive gleam of beskar that you find next to you. Din’s helmet sparkles even in the dim light of the ship. Until you noticed Din’s dazzling headgear, you were fully prepared to admonish the perpetrator for being so cruel as to wake you up. Yet, when you discover that it is the man whose presence you have been pining for, your anger begins to subside.

It seems that Din has decided to join you on the impossibly small bunk. A fact that would not be such a problem, had Din not clambered onto the bunk without removing a single piece of his armour. Still, at the sight of him next to you, your anger dissipates as quickly as it had begun. The bubbling raging cauldron of fire and fury in the pit of your stomach soon evaporates with a whimper. Your momentary enragement at the intrusion into the serenity you had found in the bunk, despite the uncomfortable odds stacked against you miraculously faded the instant you laid eyes upon the culprit.

While you were sleeping, Din apparently returned from collecting his latest bounty. Clearly, the job has taken its toll, as he has sought rest instantly, still clad in his beskar'gam. Din nestles into your shoulder and you can feel the full heft of his armour, cool and hard against your skin, even through the thin sheet. Even though Din is exhausted and desperately needs sleep, he was so eager to be close to you that he decided to enter the cramped space to lie with you.

Even though you are certain that Din can't possibly be comfortable given the position he has taken up, you still have no desire for him to leave. Somewhat selfishly, you are enjoying the sensation of him and the warmth his presence causes in you, despite the coldness of his beskar.

“Din,” you finally sigh, “There isn’t enough room for both of us.”

“Am I hurting you?” Din asks sleepily.

“No, but—”

“Then, there’s room.”

Din’s tone of voice does not leave room for debate. You can’t help but smirk at his determination to remain cuddled up with you. Collecting his latest bounty has rendered him so exhausted that he cannot even muster the strength to remove his armour. With its inflexibility and heft, it cannot possibly be pleasant to lie in, but Din is apparently so desperate to be in your arms that it seems he has sacrificed his own comfort to be close to you.

“You can’t be comfortable, Din,” you observe, shaking your head at his determination to lie in your arms. “Let me get up and give you the bunk to rest properly, I’ll nap in the cockpit chair.”

Your offer to sleep there is an attempt to repay the debt you feel you owe Din. While he frequently allows you to sleep in the bunk, Din is happy to sit in the chair. It is a position he seems content in, with his arms folded and head slumped to the side. For much of his life, sleeping in a bunk was a luxury seldom afforded to a man who lived such a nomadic life as Din. Even though he is unaccustomed to sleeping in a bunk and probably still prefers the chair, you want to give him the marginally more comfortable option.

Din, however, has other ideas…

“No,” Din murmurs in response to your offer, shaking his head furiously at the suggestion. “Want to be close to you.”

“Okay,” you sigh. You shake your head at the stubbornness of your favourite Mandalorian, but you are content to let him be.

“Can I at least remove your helmet? It feels pretty cold against my cheek, you know…” you ask playfully.

You feel that coldness in motion against your cheek as Din nods slowly, too tired to vocalise his answer. You move instantly, propping yourself up with one elbow while you carefully remove the pesky barrier between you and the brown eyes you adore. Removing Din's helmet is something that you are well accustomed to now, but you still feel your pulse race with excitement each time. There is still a small part of you that can't quite believe you get to see Din in this way, his beauty unencumbered by the armour which usually shields his handsome features from you.

After removing Din's helmet and setting it down on the corner of the bunk, you are finally free to gaze upon the face of the man you have missed so dearly. Instead of joy, however, you feel your heart constricting at the sight of him. Din looks utterly exhausted. Your eyes roam across his features and you notice the tiredness which clouds his brown eyes, dulling their usual spark and vibrancy. There are dark bags lingering under his eyes, too. It seems that Din has scarcely slept since he ventured out from the Razor Crest several days ago.

He looks up at you tiredly, a small bashful smile on his lips. You are captivated by his beauty, even in the low light. Even when he looks so drained. His is the most handsome face you have ever laid eyes upon, you are certain. With his strong nose and jawline, his features are distinctively masculine. Yet there is a certain softness there, too. Either way, you are sure that you will never tire of looking at him.

In response to the feelings his appearance provokes in you, you run your fingers through his surprisingly soft, dark curls. You gently rake your fingernails across his scalp in a soothing motion. Din hums in response, an appreciative sound that goes some way towards calming the anxiety you felt upon first laying eyes upon his exhausted face.

Now that he's lying in your arms, you hope that your careful ministrations go some way to soothing his exhausted soul. Even though he is too drained to vocalise it, you know that there is nothing in the galaxy that could relax him more than your embrace and presence.

Eventually, Din’s shallow, even breaths indicate that he has finally drifted off. You still feel slightly groggy after being awakened so abruptly, but with Din asleep on you, you know there is no chance that you will be able to get back to sleep. For one, there is the considerable heft of a fully-armoured Mandalorian resting on you, who you are keenly aware is somehow managing to sleep while maintaining the position so he is not placing all of his weight on you and inadvertently crushing you. Additionally, you are enjoying the comfort you draw from Din's presence. Knowing he is close to you and not off hunting bounties, putting himself in dangerous situations soothes your soul.

You are unsure how long you lie there for, with Din lying half on top of you, before his eyelids flutter open and those familiar brown eyes meet yours once more. To your relief, they have regained their spark.

Unfortunately, while his eyes have regained their vibrancy, other parts of Din's body have suffered.

“Can't feel my arms or legs,” Din whines, his body numb after contorting himself into such an uncomfortable position.

“I did warn you,” you tease. There is not a single trace of anger or frustration evident in your tone. You merely enjoy the opportunity to playfully admonish the man you adore.

“I know,” Din nods.

You lean down to kiss his forehead softly. As you place your head back on the pillow, Din gazes up at you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. Then, he winces slightly, clearly deciding that enough is enough. Din grunts in discomfort as he pushes himself up, and you regretfully watch him go. You are disappointed to have lost an initially disconcerting presence which ultimately became a comfortable one in spite of your initial reservations. Din lingers at the edge of the bunk, looking back at the space with a quizzical look across his features, as though he is appraising something about the space.

“After we’ve dropped off the bounties on Nevarro, we’re paying a visit to Peli on Tatooine. I’m getting a more spacious bunk installed,” Din says decisively.

You look at him questioningly, and Din does not hesitate to elaborate:

“I want to make it so that I can cuddle you properly, every night until we’re grey.”

You shake your head and smile to yourself, touched at the sentiment. For a man with such a reputation of violence that precedes his every move, there is a surprisingly soft centre beneath the tough exterior. You are thrilled with Din’s proposition and you know that the kooky Tatooinian mechanic will have you sorted out with a new bunk in no time—even if the price you pay will be well above the going market rate.

Despite Din’s stoic appearance and ruthless efficiency, you wonder if the galaxy would view him in a different light if they knew his weakness. You quietly question whether the Bounty Hunters’ Guild would hold a lesser opinion of him if they only knew the truth.

Namely, that the spoils of one of the many bounties that the man they know as Mando so masterfully collects will go towards upgrading the Razor Crest’s modest bunk. All in order to ensure the formidable bounty hunter can have his scalp rubbed every night until his eyelids grow heavy, and so Din can be cocooned in the tight embrace of the one he loves each time he returns from his latest hunt.

Ultimately, Din Djarin is a man of multitudes. A formidable warrior and a gentle, caring man; who never feels safer or more at peace than when you hold him in your arms.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #I JUST WANT TO HUG HIM ITS NOT FUNNY #and run my fingers throug h his haiiiiiiiiir!!!!!

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sitp-recs · 1 month

Note

Hullo! I was wondering if you have any good recs for extremely magically inclined Draco or Harry? Or both? Like they exude badass, and they are in awe of each other. Maybe with a hint of morally grayness? I've ran through quite a few tags of the like and have deeply enjoyed them and was wondering if you had a few goodies.

Hi anon! I definitely got a few recs for you, some with morally gray characters as a treat 🙌

Powerful Harry:

Under Pressure by VivacissimoVoce (M, 21k)

Harry Potter has quit magic and left the wizarding world. Draco, a top-notch Tracker, has been hired to find him and save his life.

And One To Play by @tackytigerfic (E, 21k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Powerful Draco:

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich (E, 24k)

Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail.

A Pocket Full of Stones by @amywaterwings (E, 68k)

A curse is spreading through the wizarding world, erasing memories of the war. Harry Potter is on the case! Where Draco is the DMLE’s most wanted dark wizard and Harry is the private investigator tasked with bringing him in. It goes as well as one might expect.

Threshold by @kbrick (E, 126k)

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy finally gets his chance to consult with the Auror Department when a series of mysterious doors covered in runic symbols appear all across the country, only to fade away minutes later. Draco’s eager to help solve the mystery of the doors until he’s partnered with Harry Potter, who still treats him like an enemy.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #powerful Harry #powerful draco #morally grey characters

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megalony · 24 days

Text

Bedroom Talk- Part 2

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a request. I'm so happy and thankful so many of you have loved this little series and I am open to writing a 3rd part if anyone would like that or has ideas.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie and (Y/n) have a heart to heart when (Y/n) talks about having another baby. But Eddie can't go through that trauma again, not after last time.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine when she heard the front door open and close.

Oh God. This was it. Now or never. She was going to have to talk to him; she was going to have to tell him.

She kept her back to the kitchen door and stayed stood in front of the fridge, pretending to look for something when really, she was staring into an abyss. Her breathing momentairely stopped while her eyes zoned out and all she could see was the doctor's office she had been sat in this morning.

Her mind zoned out enough that the blinking light in the fridge and the quiet, distressed beeping didn't phase her or break through the static in her ears. Her hand stayed curled around the fridge door and her head tilted to one side.

At least with her back to the door, Eddie wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes.

The sound of his trainers clashing against the kitchen floor finally snapped through to (Y/n)'s brain and made her slam the fridge shut before the temperature began to drop.

She stayed rooted to the spot, even when she felt a familiar pair of arms encase her waist and pin her up against his chest. Her head flopped to the left, pressing her cheek against Eddie's hair that was damp and fluffy like a feather pillow. Her hands moved down to hold onto his wrists while he gave her a tight squeeze and attached his lips to the side of her neck.

"Hi baby." He murmured softly into her neck while (Y/n) closed her eyes to try and stay calm and compose herself.

She took note of the shirt Eddie was wearing, she could feel the material rubbing against her bare arms. He had changed out of his gym gear. He was no longer wearing the rubbery vest top or training shorts he left in this morning. he was in a softer, thinner cotton shirt and a pair of jeans. He must have had a long workout to change at the gym instead of when he got home.

"Hi," She didn't trust her voice but she tried her best to sound calm and she kissed his head, nuzzling her nose into his hair to try and control her nerves.

"Where are the kids?"

Eddie realised he couldn't hear the tv or hear Lilah screaming and babbling loudly as she played with her toys. And Chris wasn't in the living room, and he couldn't hear their eldest playing any games in his bedroom either. The house was oddly quiet and that meant the kids weren't here because if they were outside, (Y/n) would of been out there with them.

"Buck's taken them to the zoo." (Y/n) had only asked Evan if he could watch the kids for an hour or two, but he had happily come round to pick them up. And as soon as Chris asked if they could go out, Evan was bubbling with excitement and ready to take him and Lilah to the zoo.

She knew Evan had guessed something was playing on her mind and that something was wrong, but he didn't pry. He took the kids the moment she asked and gave her a comforting hug before he left.

"Oh… so you're mine for the afternoon then. What'd you wanna do?" Eddie moved his hands down to (Y/n)'s hips and turned her around in his grip so they were facing one another.

He didn't see her face for very long before she pushed up on her toes to lock her arms around his neck and pull him down to her. He felt her nose brush across his neck and tickle the base of his shoulder and he grinned into her hair. His hands moved around to curl back around her waist and he began gliding his hand up and down her back.

He didn't realise Evan wanted to see the kids today, not that he was complaining. It was never an issue when Evan wanted to take the kids out, and it was a surprise to find that he could have (Y/n) to himself for the day. It had been a while since he'd had her to himself and didn't have to fight for her attention without the kids bustling in.

They stayed tangled together like that for a few quiet minutes and Eddie felt his smile fading against her hair when (Y/n) didn't say anything. She just held him. And he stayed wrapped around her, she felt like she needed some comfort, although he couldn't fathom why.

Eventually, just as Eddie was about to say something, (Y/n) pulled back. Her fingers tangled in the short hair at the base of his head and made a shiver run down his neck when she tightened her grip. She took him by surprise and leaned up to connect their lips. The kiss was heavy and burdened and demanding and needy all at once.

It took Eddie by surprise and knocked him on his back foot. He felt like this was a silent message he was supposed to decode, but he didn't know how.

He parted his lips, inhaling as deep a breath as he could manage before he dove down and stole her lips as demanding as she had initiated with him. His fingers dug deep into her hips and he felt her back curve against his hand as she leaned back and let him push her down. His chest moulded against hers and he groaned, tracing his tongue across hers when she scratched the base of his neck.

(Y/n) could see stars dancing across Eddie's face when they finally pulled up for air. His chest panted along with hers and a mixture of confusion and lust pooled in his eyes.

Why had she kissed him so desperately like that? Why was she looking at him worriedly like that? Why wasn't she talking to him?

He stayed still but loose and easily moveable, tilting his head down to watch the way (Y/n) laced her fingers with his and clung to his sweating palm.

When she walked ahead of him, Eddie let her drag him behind her, gripping her hand tight while his other hand cupped her hip again, softer and lighter this time. His chest moved near her back, keeping only a hairline fracture of space between them as he followed (Y/n) wordlessly out of the kitchen.

He wondered for a moment if she was about to divert down the hall towards the bedroom, but he followed and turned with her when she aimed for the living room instead.

Eddie studied the way (Y/n) sat down and pulled her legs up beneath her so they were crossed on the sofa, all while her left hand kept the tightest grip on him so his knuckles were turning deathly white. He twisted his arm a little so he could slowly sit down on the sofa beside her.

His gaze dragged up and down her frame, soaking her in, assessing the worry in her eyes, the tension in her body. The way she held her back straight like she was too nervous to slouch into the sofa. His tongue dragged across his lips that were still tingling from the power she had when she kissed him.

"Baby…?" He didn't quite know what he was asking or what he wanted to say, but (Y/n) seemed to understand his wordless question.

She dragged his hand across so their entangled hands were laid on her thigh, allowing (Y/n) to trace her thumb over the back of his hand. And bring her right hand up to draw aimless patterns and random designs on the back of Eddie's wrist and along his arm towards his tattoo.

"The doctor's office called me this morning, they got my bloods through and they wanted to see me."

"That was quick…" Eddie wasn't sure he liked where this was going. It had scarcely been two days since (Y/n) went to the doctors for a check up.

He knew she had to have bloods taken every few months for her vitamin deficiency. And she had to have check ups every six months to make sure she was okay on the contraceptive pill. The last time she was on the pill it messed with her system and made her sick.

If the doctors called back this quick and wanted an appointment on the same day, Eddie knew that was a sign that something was wrong.

"They gave me an emergency appointment this morning… Eddie I- I'm pregnant."

All (Y/n) could feel was the way her heart was pounding against her chest so harshly every beat felt like a hammer to her chest. Every pulse tore through her eardrums and made pins and needles course down to her feet. Her fingertips turned numb and both hands started to sweat, despite her fingers turning cold from panic and dread.

This news wasn't going to go down well, (Y/n) knew that from the start.

This wasn't like with Chris. This wasn't (Y/n) sitting Eddie down and giving him a gift of a baby onesie and a positive pregnancy test or telling him that she needed him to be careful in the army because he had two people to come home to now.

And it wasn't her waking him up on father's day and telling him he was going to have another baby.

They had agreed, no more kids.

(Y/n) was on the pill for that very reason and they were always careful. If Lilah's pregnancy was anything to go by, they couldn't have a repeat of that. As much as they loved their kids and would love to expand their family, it wasn't a risk they could say was worth taking.

Her labour with Chris had gone south. Her whole pregnancy with Lilah had been nine months from Hell and that birth almost killed her. It wasn't something Eddie wanted to witness again, he couldn't risk losing a baby or losing (Y/n) and bringing up their kids on his own. He wouldn't survive losing her.

Tears began to trickle down the bridge of (Y/n)'s nose and across her cheeks when Eddie didn't say anything.

He let her deadlock his hand in both her palms and he stayed limp and let her lift his arm to pin his hand to her chest to try and keep herself calm. But (Y/n) watched the way Eddie dragged his free hand across his jaw and down his chin.

The rage was visible in his eyes, but it wasn't directed at her. Eddie wasn't sure who or what he wanted to direct his anger at. Probably himself. He had let this happen. He told himself- he vowed he wouldn't go through another pregnancy, he wouldn't risk (Y/n)'s life like that again.

Now he'd put her in danger. Now she was pregnant he was going to see her deteriorate and worry about coming home to find her bleeding out or passed out on the floor. Or worry about going into labour and coming out without his wife or child at the end of it. What had he done?

"Eddie…" (Y/n) tilted her head down and pressed her lips against his knuckles when he didn't say anything. He just stared down at her legs like he would suddenly find the answers and the words he was looking for if he didn't look her in the eye.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Close to fifteen weeks, they think. I- I didn't want the ultrasound without you, so I'm at the hospital next week."

(Y/n) let them do another blood test and an exam and she got checked over by the doctor, but she wouldn't agree to a scan. She wasn't waiting around in the office for an hour, drinking two pints of water and watching the scan when she was alone. She felt sick, she thought she was going to faint and all she wanted was Eddie.

The doctor booked her the soonest appointment at the hospital, gave her a prescription for two different anti-sickness meds so they wouldn't have a repeat of last time with Lilah. And she was taken off the pill immediately. Now (Y/n) didn't know what to do.

"Eddie say something. Baby please-"

"What are we gonna do?"

(Y/n) wasn't so sure Eddie was speaking to her as much as he was trying to give himself a pep talk which clearly wasn't working.

When he tore his hand out of her grip, her chest tightened and she couldn't stop the tears from flooding down her face. She moved her hands to deadlock her arms around her waist while she watched Eddie slump forward. His elbows dug uncomfortably into his knees, his hands clasped together so tightly the knuckles were almost breathing through the skin. And he meshed his lips against his hands to stop himself from screaming.

"I don't know."

"I tried I- fuck! I tried to protect you and I- I've, I've- I can't lose you." What else was he meant to do? Abstain from (Y/n) for the next ten years until there was no risk of an unplanned pregnancy happening? Eddie knew in his heart he wouldn't be able to do that but he'd give it a damn good try if he had to.

He just wanted to have his family and keep them all safe and well. Pregnancy didn't agree with (Y/n) or in the very least, giving birth didn't agree with her. Everything with Chris had been fine up until the birth, and everything with Lilah was a train wreck.

Eddie wasn't doing that again. He wasn't taking her to hospital demanding someone do something to look after her. He wasn't waking up in the middle of the night worried she wasn't okay. He wasn't seeing her cry in agony or go mad on bed rest that didn't even help her.

He wasn't going to sit back and watch her go through hours of agony and come close to losing her life at the end of it. A baby wasn't worth that. His wife was worth everything to Eddie; he'd give his life for hers.

He wasn't being a single father to their kids because he'd gone and put her at risk by getting her pregnant.

"What am I supposed to do? Eddie I don't… I don't wanna- I can't," When (Y/n) moved her palm to press against her abdomen, she whimpered. She didn't want to get rid of it. She may not look or even feel pregnant yet, but just knowing she was having a baby made her feel different.

The only way (Y/n) would agree to an abortion was if this pregnancy was going to risk her life. She wouldn't take the risk, not after everything with Lilah, and it would break every part of her soul to do it. But right now, she hadn't been told that news.

The doctor was worried, given (Y/n)'s history, which was why she needed a scan and a lot of check ups and she needed to sit down and talk with the doctor and Eddie about this.

But what if it went as smoothly as it did with Chris? What if Eddie finally got that chance to be with (Y/n) when she was pregnant and just see her body change and grow and see the baby develop healthily? What if they got through the next few months with no sickness and no complications and (Y/n) felt fine and active and healthy and happy?

That was a possibility.

"You think I want that?" Eddie's broken tone made (Y/n) cry harder.

She hated the look in his eyes when he snapped his head to the right to look at her. Did she honestly believe Eddie wanted an abortion? Did she think he thought that was the best course of action and that he had no quarrels doing that?

He wasn't brought up that way. Eddie was a catholic, the only kind of termination his family were accepting of was the kind where the mother's life was in danger. But it wasn't just the religious side that got to him. He was brought up on the knowledge that family was everything. Eddie loved his family, he loved the family he created with (Y/n). He absolutely adored their kids and would do anything for them.

He didn't want to lose one, and Eddie could feel the guilt creeping up his throat thinking that getting rid of his own child was better than the risk of keeping them.

"You spent nearly eight months between the hospital and the bed last time, do you wanna do that again? Baby I'm not gonna sit there and watch them dose you on adrenaline because you almost died!"

"Then what do we do? Just say no a-and terminate?" (Y/n) leaned back into the cushions and dragged her hands through her hair. "We tried, but clearly you've got strong swimmers because I'm already pregnant. I can't- I can't just take it back or rewind time. I don't want to put you through that again and I don't wanna be laid up in bed or call you thinking I'm losing our baby."

Tears streamed freely down her face and she held Eddie's hardened gaze when his eyes locked with hers and his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like his teeth would start to disintegrate.

"But it might not be like that… I was so sick with Lilah from the start, if, if I'm fifteen weeks already, I feel fine. And maybe I can have a choice this time, about a C-section."

(Y/n) found out she was pregnant with Lilah from the two-month mark and she had been sick since the beginning. But if she was already over three months, she didn't feel it. (Y/n) didn't feel queasy or run down or like she was going to collapse or throw everything up. She had been a little nauseous at times, but nothing as drastic as last time.

Surely that was a good sign that this pregnancy might go better, like with Chris? Surely they had a chance of a smooth ride this time?

And with (Y/n)'s history, she might have the choice of a C-section. The doctors might agree that her bad birth with Chris and her life-threatening situation with Lilah called for precautions. A C-section would save panic, hassle and take away most of the risks (Y/n) faced.

(Y/n) pressed her hands down into the sofa and looked across at Eddie. He hadn't moved. If it weren't for the harsh sounds of his breathing fanning into his hands, (Y/n) would have thought he had frozen in time. He was as still as a mountain, except for the throbbing vein in his neck.

With her breath held deep in her lungs, (Y/n) pushed herself up and inched to the left until her knee brushed his. When he didn't move, react or pull away, (Y/n) tenderly curled both her arms around Eddie's bicep and leaned over until his arm was pinned against her chest. She pressed her lips down into his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent as she waited for him to say something.

"We take it slow, one day at a time."

Her eyes opened and she tilted her head so her chin was pressing down into his shoulder, allowing her to look up at him. He turned his head in her direction but the emotions pooling in his eyes made (Y/n)'s heartbeat quicken.

"What?"

"If you're okay now, you might not be so ill… but if you get sick or half as bad as last time, we have to do something." Eddie knew they had very little choices right now. And he could understand (Y/n)'s point of view, she didn't want to get rid of this baby if they had a chance of having a good pregnancy, especially if she was a little bit further along already and she was okay.

But if something went wrong, if she got severely dehydrated or she got sick or had any complications, Eddie wasn't willing to take the risks. He would rather keep (Y/n) safe and think of her first. If she got ill and couldn't have the baby, Eddie could live with that. As long as she was okay.

"And we push for a C-section, you can't go through another labour like that again. You're my priority, you understand that? There is no question, you're health matters more. I need you- the kids need you-"

"I know, I know baby."

(Y/n) pressed her lips down against the junction between Eddie's neck and shoulder where she could feel his breaths begin to even out. She wasn't expecting him to be happy about this, not yet. Not until they knew how things would go and if they could do this. But she was happy he wasn't outright refusing to give this a try. That was all she could ask for.

And she was in full agreement. They could try, and if this pregnancy went south and they couldn't get through it, then that was okay. (Y/n) couldn't risk her health. She had seen how bad it could get when she had Lilah and by the time she got a placental abruption, there was nothing they could do. They couldn't terminate or speed up the pregnancy or do anything to reverse the damage or make (Y/n) better.

She had to think about Chris and Lilah, it wasn't worth risking her health when she had two children to think about who needed her.

"Will you come to the scan with me, at the hospital?" (Y/n) could barely hear her voice when she spoke against his neck. And she let go of his arm to loop her arms around his neck when he curved his arm around her waist.

He turned to the side so he was facing her and in one swift movement, he pulled (Y/n) so she was sat on his lap rather than beside him. He locked his arms around her waist, keeping her pinned against him.

"You know I will, you're not doing any of this alone, mi amor."

Eddie closed his eyes and tipped his head forward until their temples were touching. He nudged his nose against hers and tried to take deep, calming breaths. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to smile and laugh and cry and bask in the thought of having another baby like he did the last two times. And if this went well, he would have another baby in his arms.

But he couldn't get ahead of himself. He couldn't let his thoughts get carried away and get attached in case something went wrong or they had to make a decision.

His chest tightened and his shoulders tensed when he suddenly felt (Y/n)'s hand reach around to take hold of his left wrist that was resting on her back. He stayed still and waited to see what she was doing, but every part of his body started to shake beneath her when she carefully laid his palm down over her stomach.

His hand started to tremble and he dared to swipe his thumb up and down for a few seconds before he stopped himself.

Tears were already drenching his face.

He wanted to pull his hand away. He wanted to shake his head and say no. He couldn't think like that, he couldn't get ahead of himself. He couldn't imagine anything and get his hopes up. But it felt like it was already too late. (Y/n) was already pregnant, things were already complicated and now there was an image in his head of a new addition to their family. He could almost feel the way (Y/n)'s stomach was going to curve and change; something he absolutely loved but never thought he'd see again.

(Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck when Eddie suddenly leaned around her so he could smother his face in her chest. She could feel his tears soaking into her shirt and she kissed his hair when he pressed his hand down firmer on her stomach like he was waiting for confirmation or even a kick.

She was so lost in the feeling of Eddie's fingers tracing and scrunching up her shirt over her abdomen that (Y/n) almost missed the words he whispered into her chest. "It'll be okay, baby."

She wasn't quite sure who he was talking to.

***

"So, is everything okay?"

(Y/n) wanted to smile. She wanted to look up at Eddie and ask him where his patience of a saint had disappeared to. But she couldn't look away from the midwife, because it was the same question swirling around her head too.

Was everything okay with the baby? What were they going to do if the answer was no? How was Eddie going to react?

"Yes, baby looks to be a healthy size, placenta is in place, blood flow is good. And heartbeat is strong," As she spoke, the midwife tilted the screen in their direction and turned on the volume so they could listen.

Part of (Y/n) had been expecting a different answer. She was expecting to be told something was amiss or maybe she wasn't actually pregnant. Or something had gone wrong because she had been on the pill and didn't know about this sooner.

Seeing that familiar image on the screen and watching the tiny heart thud out a strong rhythm made (Y/n)'s own heart go haywire.

She could feel adrenaline pooling in her stomach and sparking through her veins when Eddie suddenly took her hand. He laced their fingers together and squeezed so tightly (Y/n) couldn't feel her fingertips anymore. But when she dared to drag her gaze away from the screen to look up at him, she was surprised.

He was smiling.

(Y/n) hadn't been expecting to see him smile. She was well prepared for his worried eyes, his jaw locked in place and his lips pressed into a thin line. She had been waiting for him to say something else, ask if something was bound to go wrong.

She was even expecting him to stay silent and not react at all. To see him stood there smiling, with tears bubbling up in his eyes, made (Y/n)'s throat tighten up with the urge to cry.

She moved their entwined hands to hold his hand against her chest, and she could see stars dancing across her vision when Eddie leaned over her. He dragged his free hand through her hair, tangling his fingers into her locks while he tenderly pressed his lips against her temple.

"You alright?"

Eddie dragged his hand across his face and looked across the kitchen at Evan. He managed a smile as Evan reached into the fridge and handed him a beer before he leaned forward on the counter.

"Are you sure, you seem a little, distant." Evan didn't want to pry, but he could see there was something playing on Eddie's mind. The distant look in his eyes wasn't something Evan was used to and Eddie had barely said a word since he walked through the door. And it had been Eddie's idea to come over and hang out while (Y/n) had taken the kids out to the park.

"Just thinking… about this." He took a large swig of his drink while he rummaged around in his back pocket for the small square photo he'd been carrying around for the last three days. It felt like gold dust between Eddie's fingers as he slid the small black and white photo across the counter towards Evan.

His eyes focused intently on his friend, gaging his reaction because he was the first person Eddie had shown this to. He was the first person Eddie wanted to talk to because Evan knew how he would feel and react to this.

"I- oh, this… this is, (Y/n)'s pregnant?"

He watched the way Evan's face changed from a reminiscent smile to a gaping expression with wide eyes and a set jaw. This wasn't an old photo Eddie had dug out the memory box. This wasn't a scan photo from Chris or Lilah's pregnancy. This was recent; this was new. (Y/n) was pregnant; again.

"I thought you said you weren't gonna have any more?" It didn't settle right with Evan that Eddie would suddenly change his mind and be all for this.

Not after how he had reacted when Lilah was born. Everyone on the team could see how Eddie was conflicted; how something so innocent and sweet and heart-wrenching as Lilah could make Eddie feel so strange. Because he was so concerned with looking after (Y/n) and wanting her to be okay, and the only reason she had been suffering in the first place was this little girl who Eddie swore to protect with his life.

It didn't seem realistic that Eddie would do a complete turn around and be willing to have another baby.

Evan remembered them talking a while back, Eddie was adamant he wasn't having any more kids. In his mind, it was as if Eddie himself was placing that risk onto (Y/n)'s shoulders if she got pregnant and he didn't want to do that. He wanted to keep her safe at all costs.

"This wasn't exactly planned, Buck. She's sixteen weeks gone already." A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips and he pushed up off the counter and moved to drag his fingers through his hair.

It felt like there were two different battles raging inside his head and his heart. His heart wanted to go through with this, but his head wasn't so swayed on the idea. His head told him there was still a lot of risks here, they weren't safe or lucky just because so far, nothing had gone wrong. And Eddie didn't want those risks. He wanted none of it.

"What are you gonna do? Eddie… I saw you when (Y/n) was in the hospital, and I've never seen you like that."

"Because I saw my wife almost die because of me."

"Why was that because of you?"

Evan couldn't see that as a fair judgement. Eddie hadn't done anything to put (Y/n) at risk of make her ill. He wasn't the reason her heart almost gave out, he wasn't the reason she got sick in the first place or why she had a placental abruption. He didn't do anything wrong, but he was holding the guilt like it was the only truth he knew.

"I got her pregnant."

"Eddie… that's not how the world works. That bloodloss and those problems (Y/n) had, they weren't a direct cause from you, you can't make that connection and blame yourself. If I drove you somewhere, and someone crashed into us, that wouldn't be my fault… you're consuming guilt you think you deserve, but you don't."

Nothing that happened or went wrong with (Y/n) was directly Eddie's fault. If he could foresee what would go wrong and still went ahead with the pregnancy then maybe he would be at fault. But he couldn't be blamed for everything that happened after (Y/n) got pregnant.

"I just- I don't wanna do that again Buck. I don't wanna sit there and think, is this how it ends? What am I gonna do with Chris and Lilah without her? I can't raise two- or God forbid three kids on my own."

"But you don't know if anything will go wrong. You're acting like it's all agreed but it's not… is this what you want, take away all the risks, what do you think?"

Eddie couldn't go through life weighing the risks to every decision he made and everything that happened. He was never going to live his life if he was going to panic about everything that he did, especially involving his family.

And there was nothing to say that (Y/n) was indefinitely going to be sick or have a complication or come close to losing her life again this time. Eddie was just presuming the future and how he thought it was going to play out. But if he took away all of those preconceptions and thought about this differently, what did he truly think?

If there was no risk, no panic, no uncertainty. Eddie didn't have to think about that. He could hear his heart clearly when all the worries were locked away and put on mute.

If he had no risks to think about, no worries about (Y/n)'s health or her life and he knew she would be okay, then Eddie had no issues knowing what he wanted. This is what he wanted. If things went differently with Lilah's birth Eddie wouldn't be stood here panicking, he would be stood here the happiest man in the world. Telling his friend he was going to have another kid.

"I think I want this baby."

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley #pregnant! reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #bedroom talk

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