#also the ‘i can’t go with you’??????? i’m going to collapse

[neo404]

PLEASE I NEED A DOM NICK FIC WITH SLUTTY FEM BOY READER RIGHT NOWW

Make it better.

Summary: Nick helps his boy (you) feel better after a long day.

TW: NSFW, cursing.

Note: this is not body neutral sadly (remember that you are always welcome to make requests)

Today was tiring, I had been studying a lot lately yet my grades aren’t improving much, I had been getting in trouble at work because I am tired most of the time. I feel bad, and I need to rest, I collapse on my couch when I arrive at my place and take out my phone to check my notifications, I see that Nick was sending me texts when I was getting home.

Future Husband >I know you are getting back to your house, so when you arrive text me >I bought you something haha, it’s a lil surprise >btw, how are you? Tell me about your day, wanna call???

I sigh while reading his messages.

Hi babe. Thanks, that’s so kind of you and I don’t wanna talk about my day, I feel kinda shitty. Tell me about yours. <

Nick answers 5 minutes later.

>I’m on my way.

What? I try to call him but he doesn’t answer. Twenty minutes later I hear someone knocking at my door, I open it and I see Nick standing there, with a warm smile on his face a gift bag whit a rose in his other hand.

‘’They ran out of bouquets; this is all they had. Can I come in?’’ his words are soft and I let him in.

‘’Why did you come?’’

‘’I wanted to make you feel better. I though maybe the gift and some company will cheer you up. Also, I know that when you are stressed out you can’t sleep well, so I’m making sure you sleep tonight.’’ He sets the rose on my dining table and I walk to him, his arms open and I immediately hug him. ‘’I’m here, I’ll make it better.’’

‘’Thank you. I love you.’’

‘’I love you more.’’ Nick kisses my head. ‘’Let’s go to your room so you can open your gift.’’ He grabs my hand and leads us to my room. Nick closes the door behind him and I sit on the bed. ‘’I think you’ll love it.’’ He grins.

‘’Well, let me see what it is.’’ I say eagerly. He rolls his eyes and hands me the bag while sitting besides me. ‘’Nick, are you kidding?’’ I take out a black mini skirt and I see him smile proudly. ‘’This doesn’t cover anything.’’

‘’I know, that’s the point.’’

‘’How am I gonna wear this?’’ I look at it and my cheeks turn red.

‘’Well, you can only wear it for me.’’ He winks playfully at me. ‘’Go put it on, preferably with nothing underneath.’’ he laughs quietly. I walk to my bathroom to change, I take out my jeans and I put the skirt on, it barely covers my ass. I slowly slide down my boxers and I walk out of the bathroom with one hand pulling down the skirt from the front. ‘’Aww, come one. Don’t be shy, there is nothing I haven’t seen.’’ I walk towards Nick, standing between his spread legs and he puts his hands behind my thighs, pulling me closer to him.

‘’It’s too shirt, Nick.’’ I say putting my other hand on his shoulder to steady myself.

 ‘’No, it’s not. Like I said, it’s only for my and your eyes.’’ His thumbs rub my warm skin. ‘’Come on, sit on my lap. I’ll make you feel good, I’ll help you forget about all those bad things.’’ My cheeks get warm again, I sit on his lap, my arms go around his neck and his hand travel up to my lower back.

‘’Where did you even bought this?’’

‘’Just around.’’ He giggles and kisses my cheek. ‘’Come on, it looks great on you.’’ One of Nicks hands leaves my back and goes to my face, inching it closer to his, and finally kissing me.

His lips are soft and they taste like watermelon. My hands instinctively go to his hair, playing with is, whole arm wraps around me pulling me closer to him, the hand that was previously on my face goes to my upper thigh. The kiss gets more and more intense, my hips roll and buckle against his and I can fell him getting hard below me.

‘’Nick.’’ I mumble between kisses.

‘’Yes, sweetheart? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.’’ He whispers near my lips.

‘’I want you. Please.’’ I confess, my body longing for his touch.

‘’Good boy.’’ He turns to the bed and gently lays me down on it. ‘’Take off your shirt.’’ I obey and toss it on the floor. Nick takes off his shirt and undoes his pants. He places himself between my legs, his hands massaging my sides gently, his lips kissing my neck and collarbone, biting from time to time. His hands make their way to my aching length, his hand moving slowly up and down, my hips buckling a bit.

‘’Shit, Nick.’’

‘’I know baby, I know. Give me time.’’ I whine and he kisses me again, slowly and so passionately. His strokes get a bit faster and I moan into his mouth. ‘’Now, open up for me.’’ My mouth open and he puts two of his fingers in, I suck and whine into them. ‘’Good job, honey.’’ Nick kisses my check and pulls his fingers out slowly. ‘’Alright, take a deep breath.’’ I nod, and while I do I feel both of his fingers enter my hole, I gasp and he shushes me. ‘’It’s okay, I know. You are doing amazing.’’ My back arches and he presses his thumb against my sensitive tip.

‘’Fuck.’’ I mumble, his fingers moving slowly inside of me. ‘’More. Please.’’ Nick smiles warmly and moves his fingers faster, pumping them in and out faster and faster, his other hand moving again, I feel some precum falling into my stomach and my back arches more. ‘’Please, want you.’’

‘’Yeah? Want me to make you feel good?’’ I nod, my fixated on the way his hands move.

‘’Yes, yes, please.’’

‘’Whatever you want, baby.’’ his hands stop, a whine leaves my mouth, his hand reaches to my nightstand and from the drawer he takes a bottle of lube. ‘’You are so good for me.’’ He slips his pans and boxers down enough to take his hard cock out, one hand pumping it slowly, the other opening the bottle and putting it into his length. After coating all of it he inches closer to me and I feel his warmth close to me. His breath hitches when he pushes in, eyes rolling back and my hands dig into his forearms. ‘’Shit, so tight.’’

After a few seconds Nick starts moving, his hips don’t bother to built up the speed, he is slamming into me as soon as he can. Moans and curses slip out our mouth, my knees allmouth touch my shoulders, his strong arms pushing from behind my knees. ‘’That’s it, take it. So good for me, such a mess for me.’’ The room is filled with wet sounds and moans, my mind dizzy with desire, I whine and my legs tremble, I feel my warmth spill all over my chest and stomach. Nicks hips go slower.

‘’More, need more.’’ I look at him in the eyes, my cheeks red and my hair messy.

‘’Turn around, ass up.’’ He lets go of my legs and I turns around, I bury my head into the pillow I use my knees to rise my hips. ‘’Good boy.’’ Nick says and I feel a spank on my thigh. He slides in but doesn’t move. ‘’Go on, you wanted more, fuck yourself on it.’’ His voice his demanding, I feel myself twitching in excitement. My hips start to roll and move forward then slamming into his, my moans are muffled by the pillow, it’s messy and my legs grow tired quickly. ‘’What’s wrong? need some help?’’ his hands go to my hips, gripping and massaging them.

‘’Please, please. Help me, need you, please.’’

‘’Since you asked so nicely.’’ He slams into me, knocking the air out of me. His trusts are quick and deep, I feel my eyes water and my back arches more and more.  ‘’Come one, one more. Give me one more.’’ I can’t control myself; his hands feel so good around me. His trust become sloppy and uneven, his breath heavy and his grip on me tighter. “Shit, fuck. Close.’’ I let myself go again, my high moan muffled and my legs almost give out on me. ‘’That’s it, good boy.’’ Nick pants out, a few slams more and he pulls out, I feel it run all over my back. I turn around and lay on my back, my breath uneven and a few hairs sticking to my face. ‘’Good job baby.’’ Nick kisses my cheek.

‘’Feels so good, you’re so warm.’’ I mumble wrapping my arm around his neck.

‘’I’m glad baby. I’ll clean us up, okay?’’

‘’No… not yet.’’

‘’Why not?’’

‘’Want more… Need more, please, can I get more of you?’’ I ask against the crook of his neck.

‘’How can I say no to my pretty boy?’’

Taglist: @freshloveforthefit @shywolfapricotfan @sturnphilia @matty-bear @thenickgirl @stvrniolvsp @paige05 @soursturniolo @miloisdone1 @teenagetrash00 @lovely-calypso @h3arts4harry @malirosee <3

#nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo smut

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy���s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

#harringrovemicrofic3 #harringrove microfic #harringrovemicrofic #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #i can't believe there's not a tag for bitchy steve harrington #no upside down au

[siryouarebeingmocked]

So there's this web novel called Worm.

[art source]

 It's about a dark and edgy world that's full of superpowered folks, and which is, therefore, about three steps away from dystopian collapse. Many places are already there.

The story is about a teenage bullying victim who gains powers, and uses them to become a very dangerous supervillain, despite her best efforts.

And anyone familiar with the RWBY fandom may have just gone "wait, this sounds familiar. Are there a lot of fics where a main character gets an alternate power set?"

Yes, yes there are.

In this fanfic I'm about to complain about, Taylor gets an already existing power that's already broken.

Canon has "Path to Victory", which is almost literally just an "I WIN" button. It tells "Contessa" what she needs to do to succeed at almost any goal she wants. She's a big blindspot for people who can see the future.

Some powerful entities can't be accurately predicted, she can't predict how people will "trigger" and get their powers, and she's terrible in space.

Taylor has the darker, edgier little brother. Which is just an "I WIN" button, with no “almost”. It means she gets to do whatever she wants, and she’s a borderline sociopath.

Someone tries to mind-whammy taylor? Nope, doesn't work.

Contessa tries to use PTV.on Taylor? Doesn't work.

Look, this is obviously, transparently a stompfic. And there two ways to go with that.

ROFLSTOMP, or take it seriously.

Make it a humour fic, or focus on how the protagonist seems strange to those around them, and how they see everyone else as strange in return. Also how the protagonists actions affect various people and the system. 

If you want challenge just give them mutually contradictory goals. The power can't do x without risking or losing y and certainly can't take care of z at the same time.

I read a Harry potter story which gave Snape the path to victory and the last published chapter was snape sitting in a bar trying to figure out what he wanted to do next. Looking back, that was probably meant to represent the author.

You can tell a good dramatic story with an OP protagonist. You just have to work harder.

This story mostly worked hard on setting up literally contrived situations so Taylor can kill someone in amusing fashion. And people's amusing reactions. That's the main selling point.

And of course the author and Taylor say that she has no more moral issues with killing. Because ROFLSTOMP.

In fact, one of the first things she does is literally stomp Sophia to death.

Taylor will still go after hard drug dealers because they hurt people, but she'll leave soft drug dealers alone. And of course she hates the local Nazi gang.

In short, she's a very selective sociopath.

So the story tries to mix both types, including with Sociopolitical Commentary™. It doesn't work very well.

At one point Taylor cracks a joke about tech Bros. 

Fun fact: Worm  takes place in an alternate universe where there is a very slim chance that they would develop that particular slang. A universe that is culturally very different from our own. In fact, I'm pretty sure the original webnovel ended before "tech bro" was even really a phrase.

And when Taylor kills the local Injustice League, she gets the bounty, and decides to donate it to the city. Specifically, she announces, the general public. 

And in case anyone was wondering why it can’t be given to businesses directly, she says trickle down economics doesn't work.

Let's ignore whether that's true or not. Trickle down economics usually refers to tax cuts. Not handouts and bailouts. Also the phrase was popularized mainly with Ronald Reagan's tax cuts.

Note that superheroes and villains started appearing on record in 1984. Reagan's first tax cuts were in 1981. His second were in 86. By 1985 in the worm universe, the breakfast club came out with Nic cage as bender. Superheroes didn't go public until 1987.

So it's possible that the phrase could still exist in the worm universe.

But it does seem strange that a teenager with little interest in politics happens to use it. In fact it seems a lot more like something an adult writer from our universe would use.*

And besides all that, it's just getting one note. No char development. Even the people reacting to Taylor do it the same way.

I mean I knew this was going to be self indulgent Mary Sue nonsense from the jump, so I really have nobody to blame but myself.

*To be fair, precedent does exist in canon. There's a character called Nice Guy. He can make himself appear to be a non threat, or even socially invisible, even when people are actively trying to find him or he's slitting a throat. Which sounds a lot like the 2000s  internet feminist stereotype of a nice guy. Ironically, the character concept was originally for a girl.

#fandom #worm #personal #fanfiction #long #writing

[spottedgardeneelstan]

normal jiang brother activities <3

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #the untamed #jiang siblings #minus yanli #sorry yanli #please note that wwx’s face is not shown in its entirety after the first panel! #that is because i think that their time in gusu lan was one of the last times in the novel that jc knows how to feel about wwx! #my opinion of course #also the ‘i can’t go with you’??????? i’m going to collapse #so symbolic of their estrangement #and wwx’s departure from the cultivation world #anyway i had a lot a wwx feels while drawing this #also i never want to look at it again ever #mdzs spoilers

[griancraft]

Hi guys, this is sort of my official "please, for the love of god, listen to Skyjacks with me” post because I’m losing my mind and all the content I can find is from the latest stuff right now, and I don’t want to spoil myself. I want to be able to talk about this with people!!!! I will make a watch (listen) party discord if there is enough interest. Just give it a chance; you won’t regret it. Also, some information may be wrong or outdated. I’m on episode 11 out of over 200.

Skyjacks is a ttrpg podcast about sky pirates in a world where there was a catastrophe about 200 years ago that left the sea unsafe to sail and maybe even damaged the entire world to the point where civilization is scattered and in small groups. There is very casual queer rep, and it’s casual to the point where it really just fits into the world perfectly.

A brief summary of the premise of the first episode will hopefully get you hooked. I’m really bad at summaries, but I promise it’s a billion times better than how I talked about it here:

Captain Orimar Vale is dead, and a mutiny will be on Gable, Jonnit, Travis, and Dref’s hands if they are unable to keep up the ruse of him being alive. To do this, necromancy (deeply forbidden magic) is performed by the Dref, the ship's doctor, to turn him into a semi-functional zombie. Captain Orimar is famous for his abilities as a captain; to replicate this will take great skill.

As they run out of supplies, they make a desperate decision: port on the land of one of Orimar’s scorned lovers or deal with the growing uneasiness of the rest of the crew. They haven’t seen their captain healthy in months, and whispers about his health are starting. However, greater danger will await them when they take to the skies again, lurking just beyond the clouds…

And more propaganda as to why I think you guys will like it:

There are unique and interesting gameplay mechanics they use to tell a really cool story, and if you like Hermitcraft or any other sorta storytelling-based SMP, I promise you’ll like it. Like. If you liked Boatem from Hermitcraft 8, you’ll love the characters in Skyjacks. The players are exceptionally good at playing their characters, their humour is unmatched by anything similar I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, and the story is prioritized, which I think is an amazing choice.

Best part? It’s still ongoing after, like, 5 years. Some people have left, but a good chunk of the OG cast has stayed. Not that leaving is bad, because holy crap, 5 years is a long time, and stories have to end at some point! It’s a good way of getting into something and knowing there is still a shit ton of content to be explored.

The music is good. The story is good. The characters and humour are amazing. The lore of the world is sprinkled throughout, and as you learn more about the world, the more excited you get. It’s incredible so far, and if you decide to listen to it, I will actually love you forever and ever. My boyfriend is on episode 190, and he finds it so funny every time I go. Oh my god, this is so cool.

Link to the podcast, but in a playlist (up to 180). So it’s in order and easy to find, since it’s a part of something else from the oneshot network:

#I need you guys to get into skyjacks I cannot do this alone #Can’t even look in the skyjacks tag for fan art to loose my mind about because I am literally over 200 1hr+ episodes BEHIND #I promise it is so worth it #I’m almost done episode 11 : #which is so so early so it would be very easy to catch up to me #I’m going to reblog this once a day or so I think #collapses in a heap of dust this post was never supposed to be this long #also please don’t spoil me if you’re ahead or get ahead guys istg i will kill you with my bare hands I’ll put my episode number in my pinne #ack tags too long #me when I infodump for 45 minutes straight when I should be working on my final essay #I’m dragging you fuckers kicking and screaming. Please guys. #I realize now this will like definitely show up in the tags but honestly I don’t know if that matters

[byeclownguy]

I think the most trippy part about collapsing is losing your sense of gravity

Typically when you fall over you can feel the sense of motion as you fall

But with collapsing your brain sort of shut down all your senses like a computer crashing and rebooting

As you begin to collapse (if you can’t find something to hold onto); you will feel your legs going numb and beginning to shake as it slowly travels up the body; your vision goes fuzzy; sounds become muffled

You know you’re going to fall but you never feel the motion, you don’t even need to close your eyes they’re already gone

One moment you’re standing and then you’re not but it will never feel real no matter how much your body aches

Without your sense of gravity

#please eat #thoughts from the guy behind the clown persona #byeclownguy #collapsing #also fun fact #contrary to popular belief your vision doesn’t go black if you go blind #I personally would describe it as static #(​like a TV that has lost its signal) #although I’m not entirely sure why it is this way #as I can only speak from personal experience #but I think it has something to do with the fact that you no longer have a perception of light #can’t see darkness if you can’t see light #I know it doesn’t entirely make sense #I suppose you’d have to ‘‘see it’’ to believe it #hehe #(of course I hope you never do)

[leviiackrman]

Just when you thought your life couldn’t get any worse…

#personal* #jess talks #do not reblog #my job has really helped improve my mental state lately #but I kid you fucking not I knew something would go wrong today #get home from work and there’s a tax man at the door demanding money from my dad (who also just got home) #so on top of everything else I have to deal with my dads £42000 tax debt #if that’s too much info sorry #but legit I’m terrified #i can’t go through all this again #losing my house is bad enough and being too poor to live #and yet now here’s this too #I’m just… so ready to end it #if I didn’t have my family/friends telling me to keep going I would be long gone #i just don’t know what to do #why would you want to live when every time you have a tiny bit of happiness it gets slashed away #i genuinely wanna know what I/my family did to deserve this much bad luck #sorry if this is too hard hitting for some #but I gotta get it off my chest #or I might literally collapse

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

Gojo “my girl is mad at me I hope I die” Satoru

wc — 600

tags — fluff, companion piece to modern intimacy so you’re also married in this one, love as annoyance 

Gojo looks like he tried to drown himself in the shower. 

If you hadn’t just mopped the floor, you might be tempted to give in and beckon him over to cuddle. As it is, your annoyance is only mildly tempered by how adorable he is. You suspect this was his plan all along. 

“Go dry your hair,” you tell him coldly, hardly even giving him a glance after his first step into the room. 

He pouts, which you were expecting. He should really learn some new tricks at this point. You make a shooing gesture at him to drive home the point. 

Instead, he clambers down next to your feet, all six feet and two inches of him compressed down to fit his head into your lap. Gojo’s so lanky it gives you the impression of a Jenga tower collapsing in on itself to watch him get on his knees. 

“But you’re mad at me,” he whines. Chilly droplets are seeping into your thighs. 

“I’ll be madder if you keep getting my pants wet. Go on, you’ll catch a cold.” 

“I deserve it.” 

“Gojo.” 

You say it as if you’re short of patience, when really, you’re far from it. You’re enjoying this way too much. 

He turns his head so he can look up at you. His hair falls into his eyes, making him look like a sad, wet puppy, shivering at your feet for mercy. It’s an act, of course. 

He’s the strongest man in the world. Still, you feel your heart melting as you would for any poor abandoned creature. You brush his bangs out of his face, trying to hold onto your weakening resolve. 

He knows he’s got you. It’s just a matter of time. 

“I can’t live with myself,” he says. “If you’re going to be mad at me, you should just kill me. It would be easier-“ 

“Don’t be dramatic,” you say, but that’s when he strikes the killing blow. 

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just looks at you with eyes that are suspiciously shiny, his pretty pink lips in a soft frown. You sigh and put the book you were trying to read down. 

“Go get the hairdryer.” 

Gojo perks up immediately. You stay on the sofa. He sits on the ground between your legs as you run your hands through his hair, moving section by section. It fluffs up as hot air moves over it. 

“Are you still mad?” 

“Want to take a guess?” 

He turns around so fast he almost hits himself in the face with the hairdryer in your hand. 

“I’ll never do it again, I swear.” 

“You swear?” You’re teasing. 

Gojo places one hand over his heart and raises the other like he’s making a pledge. You’re the only nation he’d ever devote himself to, anyway. “You know my motto is happy wife, happy life.” 

“I don’t know, actually.” You laugh. “Did you just come up with that?” 

“Now you’re just being mean,” he says. 

“I’m glad you picked up on it,” you say dryly. 

You like him pathetic. It appeals to your worst nature, the one that kind of wants to pinch him just to see him cry. You don’t know when you developed such feelings, and you’re certainly not sadistic towards anyone else, but Gojo just provokes you. It’s what he does. He’s good at being annoying. 

But you love that part of him, just as much as you love the part of him that can’t live without your attention. 

“You really learned your lesson?” You ask. “You won’t do it again?” 

“And go through this again? You kidding?” 

You pinch his cheek in annoyance, but he just laughs and wraps his arms around you, ignoring the way you try to wriggle away. 

“Your hair isn’t dry yet!”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, rubbing his cheek against yours. His shampoo smells good. “Happy husband, happy wife.” 

He knows you too well for you to disagree. 

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojou fluff #jjk fluff

[drdemonprince]

I have almost no energy to move or to think. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. I’m constantly on the verge of puking. The room is spinning. Normally bouncing off the walls with the desire to exercise, try new things, and socialize, all I want to do is sit silently in the dark. I am incapacitated, in an inescapable way, by the demands of full-time work. I had forgotten for a while that I am so profoundly disabled, because I have been able to build a life around my natural rhythms and my inarguable sensitivities. But for just one week, I’ve been thrust back into approximating something of a “normal” working life, and I can’t handle it. Not even remotely. If I were to live by this schedule all of the time, if necessity forced me to work an actual full-time job with real, in-person, full-time hours, I would have zero energy for meal preparation, physical fitness, social outings, on-the-ground activism, or any of the random adventures that make life so worthwhile. In my schedule I’d scarcely find the time for doctor’s visits, tooth cleanings, trips to the DMV, birthday parties, conferences, runs to the post office, or any of the other small journeys that make it possible for supposedly “independent” adult life to run. My health, my relationships, my community, and my grounding in reality would dramatically collapse.

Working full-time is a sickness. And not just for especially sensitive people like me. The friends I know with full-time jobs are tired nearly all the time, and have had to give up on so many of their passions and fulfilling pursuits. Over the years some full-time workers I know have become a bit dull-eyed and distant, no passion in their voice, a ghost of their younger selves. They assume it is because they are growing “old,” but I’m older than many of them, and many people older than me are similarly able to bounce off the walls. We have energy if we get enough sleep, if we eat robustly and eagerly, and if life is filled with shared wanderings that we can look forward to. We need repetition, and comfort, and rest, but also ample space to dream, and the power to bring some of those dreams into reality. So many people under capitalism lack all of those things. Their jobs are a chronic illness they must cradle, manage, and make endless sacrifices for every single day. There is so much they can’t do. They don’t go on dates with their spouses because they’re falling asleep at 8pm. They’re behind on doctor’s appointments and haven’t visited their siblings for years. They’re too weak and weary to travel, to volunteer, to meet anybody new. All they have it in them to do at the end of the day is collapse in front of something familiar on the TV. And it is so normal that nobody even considers it a sickness.

The full essay is free to read or have narrated to you at drdevonprice.substack.com.

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader

[thedevilspearl]

prone to bone — all brothers

author’s note ʚɞ i’ve been seeing prone bone floating around recently and also can’t get the brothers out of my head so here is my take on how the brothers feel about the position. spoiler alert: they fucking love it.

tags ʚɞ female reader x lucifer, mammon (filming during the act), leviathan, satan (power play), asmodeus (crying), beelzebub (size kink) + belphegor. explicit smut, minors do not interact!

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 feels an immense surge of control when he towers over you, his thighs on either side of you resting just enough weight on you to trap you underneath him, but not enough to hurt you. he doesn’t need to trap you; he knows you’d never try to move away from him when his cock is filling you up so well. but there’s something about you not having the choice to that adds to his total control over you. his hands rub up and down your back, taking a moment to grope your ass while he slowly drives his cock in and out of your pussy, grinding his cock to the hilt and ascending to a higher realm when he hears your lustful cries muffled by pillows. “my sweet darling,” he pulls away the pillows with a deep rut, causing you to yelp. “don’t hide your voice. i want to hear how dirty you are.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 one hundred per cent records you in this position every single time. it’s the same position but each occasion that calls for it is a whole new experience. he just loves when the base of his cock presses against your perky ass. he loves the way your ass cheeks jiggle when he speeds up his pace, when they mould into his hands while he grabs them roughly. but most of all, he loves the strangled cries sounding from the body beneath him. oh, he knows he’s fucking you good; so deep and intimate is the way his cock buries itself in your pussy, dragging against all the right places. he can go round after round in this position, filming it on his ddd so he can watch it on repeat when you’re not around. “fucking hell,” he grunts, chuckling while holding handfuls of your ass. “ya look so pretty for me, don’t think i’m stopping any time soon.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 loves the prone bone. it’s one of the positions where his confidence and self–esteem rockets sky high. he usually gets a bit shy being on top but he appreciates having your face hidden in the cushions while he does all the work, blushing the entire time; and it’s a relatively easy position, not too strenuous for him and his debatably poor stamina. but god, he just loves when you wear his shirt in this position, completely naked underneath but every thrust has him losing himself in the sight of your body as his shirt inches its way up your back. and along with his fingers interlacing with yours as they push down into the mattress and your ass bouncing up into him as he fucks you deep, it’s enough to make him finish in seconds. “i’m cumming!” levi cries, body collapsing on yours but he doesn’t stop fucking you with his twitching cock. “holy shit, it feels so good.”

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍 leans over you with his hands latched on each of your wrists, burying them in the bed sheets and with his thighs holding your lower body in place, there’s no way you can move. you desperately want to writhe and twitch in pleasure but he holds you perfectly still. your body shakes in the ripples of pleasure shooting through your body, a bliss only satan can bring to you as every grind of his hips is precise and perfect hitting your sweet spots again and again. it’s almost torture when he treats you like a toy, putting you in the perfect position for his greedy cock to fuck. you lay flat but your ass tilts upwards just the slightest bit, giving him the perfect angle to drive you both to insanity. “fuck! shit!” satan growls, so close to cumming but you defiantly fidgeted and disrupted his rhythm. “stay fucking still if you want to cum.”

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 has a particular taking to this position because it’s so easy to fuck you into oblivion and back without draining too much stamina from either of you. but that doesn’t mean you won’t end up with tears dripping down your face and drool spilling from your lips. it’s the way you scream his name extra loud as he ploughs into you from behind. his hands grip your ass tight while your head hangs off the bed, bouncing with each thrust. asmo loves fucking you in the collapsed doggy style, and as you squeeze the bed sheets for dear life while your body lays flat and twitching, asmo continues fucking you from behind and he can’t find it in him to stop. the position turns him into an insatiable devil “aww sweetie, i know you’re tired,” he whispers gently in your ears as your body wracks with sobs. “but you can take a little more, can’t you?”

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 loves putting his big body to the test, especially when he’s fucking you dumb on his huge cock. every position is a reminder of how huge he is compared to you, so it would be blasphemy to talk about beelzebub and the prone bone without mentioning his raging size kink. his fat balls rub against the back of your thighs while his thick cock stretches you open. it lays heavy in your pussy as he slowly grinds it back and forth, grunting each and every time. the way your pussy engulfs a beast like him, coating his cock in your arousal, it’s a marvel to him. his breath is hot and heavy, a signal that he’s extremely turned on. whether he’s towering above you or leaning over your shaking frame, he feels so fucking huge and that’s enough for him to want to fuck you in the position forever. “fuck, mc....you’re so tight, ‘s driving me crazy.”

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 is a lazy git who prefers positions where you do most of the work. however, prone boning you is a compromise. he’ll put in the work while you melt into the bedsheets, but it’s also a relatively low effort position that doesn’t tire him out, and that means he can last longer. and he loves lasting long in this position because the view of your ass between his thighs and the expanse of your back on display for him is addictive. for once, he loves that you’re the one squirming underneath him, crying out his name only to be muffled by the blanket tugged between your teeth because his cock is fucking you so deeply. “fuck baby,” he grunts rutting his hips quicker and harder as the minutes pass. belphie loses his mind when you quivers around his cock. “gonna make me cum so hard.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon smut #mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi smut #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan smut #obey me asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #obey me asmo #asmodeus smut #obey me beel smut #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor smut #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #belphegor x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me smut headcanons

[ynscrazylife]

i need to be excused (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)

summary: yknow that scene where hotch says “excuse me” and then faints? imagine that but his wife does it to him.

Having a profiler for a husband gets annoying with how observent he is. Unfortunately, you’re also a profiler, so it’d be hypocritical to complain.

Still, when Hotch notices the slightest thing wrong, he latches onto it. He’s had his eye on you ever since you took a hard hit from a fight in the field. You barely had time to recover before the team had to board the jet again to respond to some emergency Strauss needed them for.

Apparently, a man who claims to be linked to other murders and who was a former BAU agent had made a threat against Strauss’s family. Finally back at the BAU, the team’s stuck calling people, making arrangements, going through endless paperwork to try and get more information and figure out what was going on.

You’re not doing so hot. Still reeling from the pain, but also exhausted and definitely moody. Hotch keeps it professional since they’re at work, but is still watching out for you.

Hours later, after correctly identifying the man and making the arrest (which included lots of running around), the team again returns to their base. They’re going through everything and debriefing next steps, when you abruptly stand.

“I need to be excused for a moment,” you say, already sounding breathless, before promptly keeling over and collapsing onto the floor.

For a second, everyone freezes in shock. Hotch is the first to react. He all but screams your name, dropping to his knees and trying to assess what’s going on.

“Honey, honey? C’mon, wake up. What’s going on? Sweetheart, please,” Hotch says as he shakes you, moving you so that your head is in his lap.

Spencer kneels on your other side, gently taking your pulse and reporting that it’s stable. “Could be exhaustion, dehydration . . .” He trails off, listing all the reasons he can think of.

Hotch uses one hand to run his fingers through your hair and the other to cup your face, lightly tapping your cheek. After nearly a minute of the team standing around, wondering what to do, your eyes start to flutter open.

“Aaron?” You mutter, seeing your husband’s eyes first.

“Hi, hon. You passed out. I need you to tell me how you’re feeling,” he says, keeping his voice soft but letting out a breath of relief now that you’re awake. He continues threading his fingers through your hair and rubs his thumb against your cheek.

You blink a couple times and then say, “Tired.”

Exhaustion, then. “You’re sure that’s it? Is anything else wrong?” Hotch asks, anxious to role out some underlying cause.

You nod, then grimace at the lightheaded feeling it gives you, turning and smushing the side of your face in Hotch’s lap. He looks up at the team and gestures his head towards the door.

They get the hint, though Emily and Spencer do offer to stay behind and help. Hotch thanks them but assures them that you’ll be alright and the team takes off.

“Do you feel alright to sit up?” Hotch asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” you murmur and, with his help, sit up. You immediately lean into his arms. “Ooh, wow. Dizzy.”

“I think you pushed yourself a bit too hard, sweetheart. We gotta make sure you rest properly. Wouldn’t hurt to get some food and water in you, too,” Hotch says, cradling you.

You hum in agreement. The two of you sit there for a bit, Hotch being in no rush to move you. He can’t help but reflect a bit and he sighs, shaking his head.

“What?” You ask grumpily.

“Just a little in shock that you actually excused yourself before fainting,” he says. He recognizes the funniness of it, though he lacks any amusement, still too worried.

You chuckle. “Was tryin’ to be polite,” you explain.

“I’m sure you were,” Hotch says, smearing a kiss against your head.

You continue on sitting, Hotch rubbing your back. Finally, he gets the both of you on your feet, and leads you out to the car. He sits you in the passenger’s seat and buckles you in, driving you home. Once there Hotch immediately gets you in bed, helping you change into pajamas before doing the same. He gets you a glass of water and a snack, making sure that you eat and drink it all.

“Wanna sleep now,” you mumble once you’re done, curling into his chest.

“Of course, dear. Just relax,” he coos, already planning to call you both out of work tomorrow. He does not take his wife fainting lightly and is going to do everything he can to make sure you’re okay.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds

[nereidprinc3ss]

like real people do

in which spencer gets home from a case and fem!reader is feeling extra clingy

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as a girl, non-sexual nudity/intimacy (again....??...), if you have daddy issues you'll prob like it, i should try therapy, technically suggestive, not even one whiff of plot, just cute shit a/n: wrote about a heatwave because winter makes me crave death. kisses!

It was hot in LA, and it’s a different, muggier kind of hot back at Spencer’s apartment when he gets home at four in the morning. The plan is to take a quick shower without waking you and then pass out for ten hours, but as soon as he opens the bedroom door, plans change. 

Even the sheer sleep-deprivation he’s experiencing can’t hamper the smile that forms when he sees you face down on the bed, fan on the highest setting and pointed straight at you, and conspicuously lacking a shirt. He drops his bag and folded suit jacket to the floor, trudging to the bed before practically falling upon you, pressing a trail of kisses up your spine.

A little sleepy grumble from you notifies him that his plans of keeping you asleep have failed, but he can’t find it within himself to be too broken up about it. 

“Spence!” you murmur, voice so quiet and scratchy with sleep but still drenched in pure adoration and joy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, lifting his weight off of you just enough for you to turn over before he collapses on top of you again. He slips his arms underneath you and around your waist just as you wrap your arms around him. 

“You’re home.”

“I am,” he agrees, burying his face in your neck with a sigh. “And I missed you so much, pretty girl.”

He laughs when you kick the blanket away, attempting to wrap your legs around him like a koala bear. 

“Did you kiss any movie stars while you were gone?”

“Not a one,” he assures you, pressing his lips to your jaw like an offering. 

“Are you sure?”

“I am positively sure. Did you give up on clothing yourself while I was gone?”

“You don’t know how hot it was earlier when I was trying to fall asleep. There was no other option.”

He hums, his face still slotted under your jaw like pieces of a puzzle. 

“You should go back to sleep. I’m just going to take a shower and then I’m coming to bed.”

Your hands weaves through his hair gently, which doesn’t make him feel any less like passing out where he is. 

“Can I come?”

“To the shower?” He chuckles, rousing slightly. “You’re welcome to, but it’s not going to be very exciting. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him. “There will be no funny business whatsoever.”

“Okay. Come on, lovebug.”

He rolls off the bed, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit too much force. The momentum send you stumbling into him, but he catches you gratefully and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. 

“Wait,” you order when he tries to pull away. “Not done yet.���

“Oh, you’re not?” He laughs against you between kisses, but slowly the humor fades and he loops his arms around your waist, gently rocking the two of you back and forth for a very long moment. “You are in rare form tonight, sweet girl,” he murmurs, finally pulling away from the kiss for good. 

“I’m not all the way awake yet,” you admit. “What’s that called, again?”

“Hypnagogia.” He presses a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold on you. “I am also rapidly losing consciousness so we need to make this shower super quick, okay?”

“I know, I know! I said I would behave!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says dryly, tugging you toward the adjoining bathroom. You pout.

“Your lack of faith in me hurts."

Despite his hesitations, the shower remains PG-13. You cling to him pretty much the entire time like a flowering vine, but no untoward advances are made. 

“Okay, you’re going to have to let go of me long enough so I can put some clothing on.”

Spencer says it lightheartedly, but you huff dramatically anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed as he roots through drawers in search of pajamas. When he produces a shirt for himself, your favorite of his, you object. 

“Wait, I wanna wear that one.”

“Oh? I thought you don’t do shirts anymore,” he teases, tossing it to you before finding another for himself. You pull it over your head, getting up again to search for a pair of shorts as he gets dressed. 

“Well, since you’re so concerned that I’m a sex-crazed harlot, I figure I’d better wear some clothes.”

“I never said that,” he reprimands gently, pulling you backward by your waist. “If you decided to forgo clothing completely, I would respect that decision.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

The two of you land on the bed, a tangle of limbs as he pulls you close as humanly possible. 

“I think I’m delirious,” he admits. With a start you realize the room is lit with the very early beginnings of dawn—you don’t even want to know how long he’s been awake. Suddenly you feel very guilty. 

“Oh—I’m really sorry for keeping you up, Spence.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m comfortable with my choices.” His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing small comforting circles over the bare skin. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Okay,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you.”

“I love you,” Spencer sighs dreamily. “So much.”

And the warmth you feel then has nothing to do with the heatwave. 

#if you saw me post this earlier no you didn't #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[voidhope]

The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara angst #spiderman imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #x reader #spiderman #fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman x reader

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3