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cameronspecial · 6 months

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Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: With Drew's birthday on the horizon, Drew's daughter and wife wanted to do something special for him.

A/N: Happy Birthday to someone who absolutely makes butterflies in my stomach! Hope this day is amazing!

Masterlist

November 4th. The day Josepth Andrew Starkey entered the world thirty years ago. Drew doesn’t like to do anything big for his birthdays. He prefers to spend the day with his family rather than partying in a crowded club with annoying drunks, but for this milestone birthday, his family had other ideas. His daughter wants to make a big deal out of her father’s birthday and has helped her pregnant mother plan a surprise party for him. This has been kept from the man up until the morning of his birthday. Y/N is up earlier than expected because of the tiny kicks the human growing in her uterus is giving her. Her rolling back into bed in a struggle pulls Drew from his dreams of his wife and daughter. “Is mini-me giving you a hard time again?” he whispers, bringing her back into his hold. She nods against his chest, “Yes, the little bugger seems to think my bladder is a kickstand.” Drew gives a small chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then her stomach. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. You only have three more months,” he reassures, rubbing her belly to help soothe her. Her hand finds his, “It’s okay. It will all be worth it in the end. Happy Birthday, my love.”

She leans over her stomach and kisses him on the lips. He smiles in the kiss, “Thank you. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m thirty. I’m so old.” “No, you aren’t! You are young at heart, love. Just yesterday you were eating an Uncrustable and colouring in a book,” she giggles. The image of yesterday comes to his mind, “I was only doing that because Millie wanted me to do those things with her. Speaking of Millie, what time did you guys go to bed? I swear I felt like I heard you guys up pretty late last night.” In her tiredness and pregnancy fog, Y/N lets the secret slip out of her mouth. “She went to bed at twelve and I was in bed by four I think. I was going over everything for your surprise party so it took me some time because I kept getting hungry and needing to pee.” Her eyes rival the size of the moon when she realizes what she has done, her hand finding way over her mouth.

Drew chuckles as he processes the words and tries to end her endless apologies, “It’s okay, Sweetheart. You didn’t mean to. You were up late and have a lot on your mind.” “Right. Well, you have to act surprised at the party. Millie is so excited to surprise you; it would crush her if she knew I spoiled it,” Y/N warns, looking him directly in the eye to make sure her point is getting across. Drew gives her a nod, “Got it. I’ll be so surprised that it’s almost like I act for a living.” Y/N giggles at his joke and her smile grows at the pitter-patter of their three-year-old’s footsteps.

——

Millie shooed her father out of the house right after lunch, sending him with a laundry list of things he needed to do before he got home. As he drove around doing the chores, his heart would warm every time he looked at the non-sensical scribbles that were his daughter's “writing”, which had a translation written by Y/N beside each scribble. Even if he didn’t know about the party, he knew he would gladly do these errands for his girls on his birthday because all he could ever want was to take care of them.

His hand meets his front door and he takes a second to get into character, almost like he is on set. The handle is pushed down to reveal a dark room, which is suddenly set alight with the screams of ‘surprise’ by his family and friends. He lets his shock show on his face, both hands covering the o-shape of his mouth. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you guys so much,” he thanks the crowd, looking around for his girls. It isn’t long before Millie is running into her father’s arms. “Happy Birthday, Daddy,” she greets him, letting herself be picked up into the air by the older man. He gives her a massive grin, assaulting her cheek with multiple kisses and thanks. “Daddy, your moustache is tickling me,” she complains with joy in her voice. He pulls away, letting the hand not holding up his daughter adjust the dad hat on his head, “I’m sorry, Baby. Maybe Daddy should get rid of his moustache.”

“No! Mommy likes it. But Daddy… Were you surprised by my party?”

“Yes, I was, Baby. I was so surprised. I love it so much.”

She looks at him in disbelief, “You are lying! You weren’t surprised.” Drew doesn’t know how his acting doesn’t seem to fool his daughter. “No, I’m not. Daddy really was surprised by the party,” he promises, starting to bounce the girl, who is about to cry. “Okay, maybe Mommy accidentally told Daddy, but it’s okay. Daddy still doesn’t know what you have planned for me.” This causes the girl to pause her cries, “Can we have cake now? I want you to see the cake.” Wanting her smile to return to her face, he nods his head, booming to his party guest that it is time for cake. Nobody objects that the cake is being served before dinner or other party activities. Instead, they all gather around the kitchen table and begin to sing the famous song. “Happy Birthday dear Daddy! Happy Birthday to you.” Millie’s loud singing is the one mainly invading his senses. Maybe because of her proximity to him with her being on his lap or maybe because his focus is mainly on her. “Make a wish, Daddy,” she orders. He obeys, blowing on the candles in the form of a thirty.

“What did you wish for?” she questions. Her eyes bore into his with curiosity. He is about to tell her when Y/N speaks up, “If Daddy tells you, Millie, it won’t come true.” Drew shakes his head, smiling down at his daughter. “It’s okay, my wish is already coming true so it can’t hurt to tell. I wished for more happy days with you and Mommy and everyone else that I love.” The crowd awes at how adorable his words are. “And the baby?” Millie clarifies with concern that her father forgot her baby brother or sister. He nods, “And you baby sibling.” He gives her a kiss on the forehead, allowing her to help him with cutting the cake.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine

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mavrintarou · 7 months

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Wipe Your Eyes [7- end]

Thank you for your patience and support, and thank you for hanging on to this ship. Here is the last part of Wipe Your Eyes, I hope you all enjoy.

Warning: heart warming fluff and some steamy pregnancy sex

Sixth part

Y/n watched in silence as Kiyoomi folded and hung the newly washed baby outfits their baby boy received during the baby shower. Kiyoomi insists on taking charge of it, leaving her to sit idly in the comfortable glider watching while rubbing her belly.

At almost eight months, they were both as ready as they could be for the arrival of their little one.

Y/n observed her husband and noticed how his curls had grown past his ears and spiraled in various directions, giving him a captivating rockstar vibe. Kiyoomi had always been incredibly handsome and sexy in her eyes, but something about him lately made her adore her husband more than ever.

A few weeks ago, she had walked past him in the living room, engrossed in the second book of Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy. Y/n suddenly halted in her tracks, eyes narrowed as she noticed something different about him; when she discovered it, her eyes widened. “When did… you get glasses?”

“I went to the eye doctor the other day, and they said my vision has slightly changed and prescribed me some glasses.”

Y/n’s heart pounded against her chest, feeling her teenage crush fantasy come true seeing Kiyoomi wearing black square-rim glasses that added an extra touch of sophistication to his already captivating presence. His curls add an extra touch to his new glasses.

She blamed the pregnancy hormones that made her pounce on him.

Kiyoomi chuckled, after he read in the book that a pregnant woman’s libido increases during pregnancy, he was prepared and ready to serve. He found her most adorable when she needed him but was too embarrassed to ask but he picked up on her cues. She would look at him with a longing gaze and blush profusely as if she just had a naughty image of him in her mind.

He patted his thigh, setting his book aside, “come here.” With just a month remaining until their little one arrived, Kiyoomi found her lovely waddling over. She used to be shy sitting on his lap but now, she would climb and straddle his lap.

His hand rubbed her bulging belly and immediately he felt a movement from within. Kiyoomi’s excitement is becoming increasingly difficult to suppress; it has evolved into a daily ritual for him to tenderly stroke and converse with his unborn child, both in the morning and at night. The sheer joy and anticipation coursing through him were poised to overflow as the countdown to their due date drew nearer.

Kiyoomi slid his hands underneath her shirt and pulled it off. Y/n had become self-conscious of the stretch marks and discolored skin of her belly but he was always assuring to kiss those thoughts away. His fingers quickly unclasped the clips of her bra, freeing her engorged breasts that had been showing signs of leaking.

He tugged his shirt off, tossing it along with her clothing, he absolutely loved being skin to skin, having her belly pressed against his front side.

“I need you now, Omi,” she whispered breathlessly and needy, rocking her hips against his growing bulge. She didn’t like how she would have random spurts of moments where she was horny and needed him right there and then.

“Yes, love,” he cooed, shifting her onto her back on the couch. They have been friskier lately, Kiyoomi has been making love to her almost anywhere and everywhere. In the shower, in the kitchen, and in the bathroom. Once, they almost made love in his car until they were interrupted by the car beside them.

Kiyoomi tugs off her bottom sleepwear pants, dropping them on the ground. His fingers grazed her soaked folds and groaned, “you’re so wet already…”

“For you, just for you,” she murmured, “please…” she widened her legs.

His fingers slipped easily inside of her and curled against her tight walls before he pumps them in and out of her pussy. “You’re becoming greedy, three fingers aren’t enough for you now.” His thumb pressed and circled her clit. Her walls soon squeezed his three fingers and he chuckled, he wants her pussy to squeeze his cock instead.

His joggers are tugged low enough to free his cock before he gripped one of her legs and aligned himself and thrust inside. His hips rocked slowly, intentionally driving her mad until she begged him.

“Faster, Omi… faster.”

Kiyoomi enjoyed having the upper hand at the moment since she was limited to positions with her large belly. The doctor suggested only positions that would not strain her or the baby, which meant that he could only make love to his wife from behind or on her back. Recently, Y/n has been complaining about being on her back so he has been finding ways to satisfy her from behind. She was so sensitive that even a shift of angle or lifting one leg had her trembling at his mercy. His hand caressed her belly, a sense of pride surging through him as he recalled the last ultrasound appointment, the nurse announced their baby was most likely going to be tall when they did a quick estimate of his size.

He slipped his cock out and tugged her upright, “turn around and hold onto the couch then.” He shifted behind her and slipped himself back inside of her. He fastened his thrusts, pounding into her with more speed and depth.

“Omi,” Y/n moaned his name repeatedly, “I’m – I’m so close….”

“Wait for me,” he whispered hoarsely. He hovers over her, rutting into her as he reaches to grope her breasts, tweaking her perky nipples. “Wait for me,” he repeated again.

“Omi – Omi… oh Omi,” she chanted as her orgasm erupted.

Kiyoomi thrust one final time, jerking with each spurt of his ejaculation. He pulled out and reached for a napkin to catch the spilled seed. After wiping her down, she collapsed against the couch. He hovered over her before kissing her, “are you satisfied, Mrs. Sakusa?”

She cupped his face, kissing him a little bit longer. “Are you?” she reached and wrapped her hand around his semi-hard cock. At her touch, he felt a jolt within him, and his cock began to harden. “Are you satisfied, Mr. Sakusa?” Her eyes linger on him and she smiles, “I love the glasses on you.”

Kiyoomi continued to go to therapy until it was appropriate for the both of them to go to one session. Dr. Kitagowa coached and approached them on how to have healthy communication that meets each other’s needs, thoughts, beliefs, and feelings.

Each time they returned home, Kiyoomi and Y/n would have a discussion and address their past mistakes and how they would approach the situation with what they learned.

Their marriage is steadily getting better with each passing day. Ultimately, they both admitted that they wanted their marriage to work for their baby and each other.

“I can’t live without you,” Kiyoomi whispered one night. “The thoughts scare me and I don’t even want to know.”

Y/n snuggled closer into his embrace, “me too, Kiyoomi. Me too.” It was a few minutes of silence before she called his name, he hummed quietly and she pulled away to lift herself onto her elbow. “I have something to tell you.” His brows furrowed and she reached to smooth it, “it is nothing bad, but I initially reached out to Genesis Publishing to decline their offer because I didn’t want to leave you or Japan. No matter how great the compensation was, it didn’t outweigh the importance of staying here with you. However, they’ve now come back with an alternative proposal: I can continue to stay in Japan, with the only requirement being that I visit the corporate office quarterly for a week's stay. What are your thoughts? Do you think I should accept this revised offer?”

Kiyoomi propped himself up on his elbow, and she could discern the multitude of questions swirling within his mind, leaving him uncertain about where to begin.

“Go ahead, ask me anything,” she assured, placing a hand against his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone.

His eyes shut for a brief moment before opening them again, “I’m still processing what you just said but I feel relieved about their new proposal.” He reached to rest a hand on her belly, “if it is something you want, you should take it. I’ll support your decision regardless of what you decide.” He gazed into her eyes before promising, “but if you accept, you will just have to take baby and me with you because… we’re a family.”

Y/n giggled and leaned to kiss him, “yes, we’re a family and yes, you two will come with me because a week without you two will be too long.”

Kiyoomi cherished every aspect of Y/n’s pregnant body, appreciating its beauty and the transformative journey it represented. In what felt like the blink of an eye, her body underwent remarkable changes, with the roundness of her belly expanding seemingly overnight.

Kiyoomi made an effort every night to rub lotion around her expanding belly and body in general. Though he tried to conceal his laughter, he found her extremely adorable when she struggled to reach her toes or below her knees.

Having reached a new level of patience as a husband to a pregnant wife, Kiyoomi faced a situation where Y/n was taking longer than expected to get ready for her birthing class. Taking a deep breath, he called out to her from the living room in a gentle tone, “is everything okay?”

Instead of her usual “yes,” Kiyoomi was taken aback as he heard Y/n’s quiet voice utter, “no.”

He found her lying on her back, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed with both her sneakers on but shoelaces undone. She looked up at him with tears flowing down her cheeks and a pout on her lips. “I… I can’t tie my shoes.”

Kiyoomi’s lips trembled as he tried to contain his laughter. He stepped forward and knelt on a knee, taking one ankle at a time and setting it on his lap as he tied her shoelace. “I’m here for you, Y/n. I’ll tie your shoes for you – you just need to ask, okay?” He reached up to wipe her tears away.

“Okay,” she answered meekly.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, tightening his arm around her belly. “You’ve been moving more than usual.”

Because of Kiyoomi’s extreme sensitivity to sleep, feeling every movement or noise, Y/n had tried her hardest to not shift so much while being his arm but she was not able to find a comfortable position.

Now that he was awake, she shuffled until she faced him, their bellies pressed up against each other.

“Ask your son that, he’s active at this time.” To make her point valid, the baby kicked or punched right into Kiyoomi’s guts making him flinch. “Apparently he thinks it’s play time.”

Chuckling Kiyoomi reached and turned on his night lamp and rubbed Y/n’s naked belly, “hey you,” he earned another movement, “why are you up this early?”

“I think he’s said he’s up because daddy forgot to give him a belly rub with lotion.”

Kiyoomi raised a brow before realizing he did indeed forget his nightly routine. “Well then,” he reached for the bottle of lotion and squeezed some on his hands before rubbing it all around her belly. He leaned down and murmured, “daddy is sorry he forgot.”

Y/n has been watching her husband for the past hour sitting in the glider in the corner of the hospital room rocking his daughter against his chest. His shirt is off as he shares a skin-to-skin intimate bond with her.

“I can’t believe, he is a girl.” Y/n burst out giggling.

Almost seven hours ago, she gave birth to their son who came out as a girl.

She just remembered that Kiyoomi did not dare watch the birthing process, especially after the classes they took, he begged and apologized to her in advance that he did not have the heart to be down south when the time came. He stayed up north with her the entire time, holding her hand and being her biggest supporter.

“Congratulations!” The midwife announced holding the screaming infant. “He is…” she paused, “a… girl?”

Y/n and Kiyoomi exchanged a shocked expression that mirrored each other perfectly.

“Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter to me,” Kiyoomi answered pressing a light kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. She was so tiny in his arms.

Y/n had a deep suspicion that Kiyoomi had desired a daughter in secret, yet he was equally content with their son during the gender reveal. She could observe how his entire world transformed as he gazed at their daughter with the same adoration he reserved for her.

Y/n did not find her husband or daughter in their usual spot on the couch and checked her nursery, also finding it empty.

She slowly opened the door to their bedroom and exhaled softly seeing them both sleeping on the large bed.

Kiyoka, now nine months old, had been successfully transitioned to her own room a few weeks ago. Y/n had anticipated it would be challenging for her to sleep without their daughter, given the months they spent sharing a room. Surprisingly, Y/n took it well, but Kiyoomi found the transition difficult. It was no surprise, as Kiyoka used to sleep on Kiyoomi’s side of the bed when she was in the same room, making it easier for him to tend to her during the night.

Though he does not voice it, Y/n was aware of him getting up almost every hour in the night to check on his daughter before coming back to bed and pulling Y/n close.

“She’s fine, we have a baby monitor, remember?”

“Just want to make sure she’s not cold,” he mumbles, “what if she misses us?”

Y/n groan, “Omi, she’ll be fine. We’ll go get her when she wakes up.”

Every morning, Y/n is woken up by her daughter and husband, “good morning mommy!”

Y/n changes her clothes and gently crawls into bed. Kiyoomi opens one eye and quietly motions for Y/n to come closer so he can wrap his arm around her. “You’re back?”

“Hmm, I missed you two,” she answered, pressing a faint kiss on her daughter’s curls and a kiss on his lips.

Kiyoka inherited her father’s curls, the moment she was delivered and had her first bath, her mop of hair was in different directions, just like her father’s in the morning after a night shower.

“We missed you too,” he murmured, “we had an eventful day.”

“Oh, how so?”

“Kiyo, had a poopy diaper explosion today.” Y/n’s eyes widen, she’s heard of horrific stories but has yet to experience an episode, and the one time, it happens without her there. Even though Kiyoomi handles Kiyoka’s poopy diapers like a pro, she can truly tell how he felt deep down.

As a joke, Kiyoomi’s friends, Atsumu, Kotaro, and Hinata got him a hazard suit as a gift during the baby shower. It is still in its original packaging in the closet. “I just threw her entire outfit away,” he paused, “and her toys… and the entire playpen.”

“Kiyoomi!”

Kiyoomi’s fists are in the air as he successfully earns the winning point for the team. He turned around and looked at the crowd, instantly spotting his wife and daughter cheering for him.

It’s the radiance and pride beaming from his wife’s face that fuels him every day. As for their nearly one-year-old daughter, she appears oblivious amidst the jubilant clapping and cheering from everyone celebrating the MSBY Black Jackals’ victory.

“Daddy Kiyoomi, where are you?”

He pushed through the crowd, excusing himself as he could spot the curly mop head of his daughter.

She is the first to spot her daddy and excitedly reaches for him when he is close enough. Plucking her out of her mother’s arms, Kiyoomi smothers her with kisses.

“Good job, Omi,” Y/n congratulated, pushing herself onto her tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. “You deserve a reward later.”

Kiyoomi hums in agreement and affectionately drapes an arm around her shoulder, “I look forward to it,” he replies.

EXTRA:

Kiyoka ran around, laughing her heart out chasing the other toddlers her age.

“He so cute,” the mom beside Y/n commented, Y/n tilted her head with a genuinely confused raised brow. “Your son,” the mom quickly added, she pointed to the child Kiyoka was playing with. “That’s my daughter, Haruka.”

Y/n cast a glance at the two children, realizing that the other mom had mistaken Kiyoka for a boy. It was an understandable mistake given that Kiyoka was dressed in a matching track outfit and sneakers, which emphasized her sporty appearance more than her gender.

From infancy to her first year, Kiyoka’s hair growth had slowed down, resulting in a bob of curls that resembled her father’s current hairstyle. There was no denying that she was a splitting image of Kiyoomi, except for the absence of his two beauty marks. He even got her matching masks that she would wear when they ventured out in public together.

Y/n smiled, containing her giggles. “That’s actually my daughter, we were told she was a boy but… that wasn’t the case when she came out. She received a ton of clothes at her baby shower and I’m putting them to use.”

Later that night after Kiyoomi tucked his daughter to bed, Y/n told him about their day at the playground.

“We should consider updating her wardrobe,” Kiyoomi suggested. He had been the sole buyer of girl’s clothing for their daughter, but as soon as she learned to express her preferences for outfits, the dresses he had purchased began to accumulate, untouched in her closet, as she favored different attire instead.

Y/n was aware that he felt disheartened because their daughter showed no interest in wearing the clothing items he had bought for her. From the frilly dress to the pink and purple unicorn t-shirt, Kiyoka preferred to wear the black t-shirt like her dad’s, the one with the same “MSBY BLACK JACKALS” lettering. Y/n found herself having to buy more of those toddler shirts because her daughter insisted on wearing the same one every single day.

“Omi, love,” Y/n couldn’t contain her chuckle, she leaned to kiss the pout away. “You have to realize how much she adores you. Just look at the way she gazes at you; she wants to be just like you.”

Most days, Y/n’s heart swells up with affection when she witnesses their daughter imitating her father. There was a particular instance when Y/n and Kiyoka brought lunch to Kiyoomi’s practice. As he observed his teammates on the court, Kiyoka stood by her daddy, mirroring his posture with arms crossed and legs spread apart.

Y/n was able to snap a photo of the two, making it her lock screen image.

“So…” his expression shifted as if sudden realization had struck him. “It’s my fault?” Guilt was evident on his face.

Y/n burst out laughing and pulling him into a tight hug. “No, love, it’s no one’s fault. You are her idol, she just wants to like you and dress like you. She is still young, just let her be.”

“Do you really mean it… you think I’m her idol?”

Nodding her head, Y/n pecked his lips twice, “yes, I might have carried her for nine months and birth her, but you are by far her favorite.”

. . .

E/n: Can you imagine, rock star hair looking Kiyoomi with glasses? #nosebleed

@pierroswife @queenelleee @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @chickflickjunkie @saikisho3 @sunawayx @vicolangelo @tsumu-senpai @famebydefinition @imnotjo @jojowantstocry @levistiddies @ushygushybaby @gina239 @qualitygiantshoepsychic

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa kiyoomi fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi angst

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mando-fando · 8 months

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Blue Sky Thinking

Idek I have CEO Miguel brain rot (esp bc I started my new corporate girlie job two weeks ago!)

So here’s this!!

Pairing: CEO Miguel O’Hara x Corporate!Female Reader

Words: 1.6k

Warning: CORPORATE AMERICA

You’d been a CXO at Alchemax for two weeks now. You’d done some consulting work beforehand, and when the job opened up, an old mentor gave you a call to set up the interview.

“Alchemax needs a strong Chief Experience Officer,” she said over the phone. “Their products are good, but their image is…lacking. With no help from the CEO.” She added.

Oh yes, the CEO whom you haven’t even met yet, Miguel O’Hara. He had no interest in partaking in the several interviews you had for this position, and he was out of town for your first full week.

What a nice way to welcome a colleague, you thought.

Regardless, everyone else was competent and friendly, and you already had big ideas for the next few months.

The elevator doors opened and you began walking towards your office. Your heels click-clacked on the marble as you made your way down the hall.

You stepped into your office and began powering up your computer. You had a meeting this morning with the fellow chiefs of staff, and you wanted to go over your notes one last time before delivering your presentation.

“Good morning!” A chipper voice drew your attention from your screen. You looked up and saw your assistant Jeanine.

“Good morning Jeanine,” you smiled at her.

“Are you excited for your meeting? Nervous?” She grinned.

“A bit of both,” you leaned back in your seat, “but mostly excited. We have unlimited potential, and I intend to tap into that!��

“Let me get you a coffee,” she said with a wink.

You turned back to your computer and began rehearsing your presentation. It had taken you the entire weekend to gather all the data and put the slideshow together. You spent hours practicing, and you could probably deliver every word in your sleep.

“Here you go,” Jeanine returned with your coffee, exactly the way you liked it.

“Thank you.” You stood up and gathered your things and headed to the board room. “Wish me luck!” You called over your shoulder.

20 minutes later, a small bead of sweat ran down your back as you stared at your fellow chiefs of staff. Only one was missing: the CEO.

You’d been waiting anxiously for him to show up, silently cursing him for delaying something you’d worked so hard on.

“I think we’ll go ahead and start without him,” the CFO said.

You nodded. “Alright, let’s get started.” You turned towards the projector. “Firstly, I wanted to th-“

The conference room door opened, interrupting your introduction.

He’d finally decided to show up, the minute you began talking.

Although you’d seen photos of Miguel, they did him no justice. He was tall, taller than any of the other men sitting in the boardroom by almost a foot. He filled out the expensive Armani suit in a way you’d never seen before, and his hair was perfectly groomed.

His face was gorgeous, but it took you a moment to realize that his breathtaking eyes were gazing at you with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t think we’ve had the chance to-“ you stuck your hand out to shake, but he interrupted you for the second time that morning.

“I’m well aware of who you are. I’m also well aware of the fact that you hijacked this meeting to go over your silly ideas rather than going over the financials for Q3. Hi This,” he gestured to the presentation on the board, “can be sent out as an email. We have real work to do.” He said dismissively.

Frustration flooded your chest. You’d worked all freaking weekend on this presentation! Who was he to tell you it wasn’t ‘real work?!’

“Excuse me?!” You said with a raised brow. It had come out of your mouth before you realized it.

The other chiefs of staff looked up at you with wide eyes. You had heard that Miguel wasn’t one to take any kind of back talk.

A look of surprise flashed across his face before a stern expression replaced it.

“What did-“ he began.

“No.” You said firmly, taking a step towards him. “Myself and my colleagues had decided to change the theme of this meeting, so we can discuss some changes that need to happen this quarter to ensure client satisfaction. I’m not hijacking anything.” You spoke in a calm and eloquent manner as you felt every set of eyes in the room trained on you.

“Client satisfaction is not more important than the quarterly financials.” He challenged.

“Yes, it is.” You stated factually. “Since you stepped into your position, it’s gone down drastically. There have even been whispers amongst the board blaming you for the decrease.” You crossed your arms and looked at him.

Miguel blinked at you. You could tell he hadn’t been challenged this way in quite some time.

“This is a discussion we’ll be having in my office.” He said flatly before turning around to walk out.

“I’ll see if Jeanine can squeeze you into my calendar,” you clipped.

He turned back to you for a moment with a deathly glare before leaving the room.

“Apologies for the interruption, everyone,” you turned back to your colleagues and began delivering your presentation again.

After the meeting was over, the gravity of your interaction with Miguel began setting in. Your second week at the job, and you’d all but made enemies with the CEO.

You sat in your office and ruminated over the encounter. Emails began flooding your inbox as your colleagues began looping other employees into the process of implementing your ideas.

You scrolled through them mindlessly when a message came through from Miguel’s secretary.

Please meet Mr. O’Hara in his office at your earliest convenience.

You rolled your eyes and stood from your desk. Your office was on the opposite end of the hall from his own. You trekked down the long corridor towards his secretary’s desk.

“Is he available?” You asked flippantly.

“Yes, go in.” She said dismissively without making eye contact. She was just as rude as her boss.

You walked into the office and found him sitting at his desk with a pair of glasses sitting on the end of his nose, looking intently at his computer screen.

You waited for him to acknowledge your presence for a moment as you closed the door behind you.

You waited at least 2 minutes. He still hadn’t said a thing to you.

“You know what? I’ll come back later.” You turned towards the door.

“Sit down,” he said, still not looking up from his screen.

“I was under the impression that this was urgent,” you said, still standing with a hand on the doorknob.

He sighed and looked over at you as he took off his glasses.

“You’re mouthy for a new hire.”

“Did you call me over here to insult me?” You scoffed.

“That wasn’t an insult. Sit.” He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. You finally sat across from him.

“Then what is it, if it’s not an insult? A compliment?”

“I suppose. You’re new to this position. You’re young, too. Standing up to me, especially in a room full of other people is not something most people would do.” He said.

“So you’re commending me for undermining your authority in front of our peers?” You questioned skeptically.

For some reason, that made him chuckle. The sound reverberated through your ears, and a slight blush tinted your cheeks. The animosity you had towards him seemed to vanish.

“How did your presentation go? I heard that you have ‘big plans.’” Miguel leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms with a smile.

“It couldn’t have gone better,” the excitement in your tone was obvious. “And I do have big plans. I’d like to get our stock back up to its former glory, and maybe get the board to stop churning the rumor mill about our chiefs of staff. It freaks out the shareholders,” you said casually.

“Rumor mill?” Miguel questioned.

“Oh don’t play dumb,” you smiled. “They say you’ve been genetically experimented on.”

He laughed. His eyes lit up and his white teeth glimmered as he bared them. “And I take it you don’t believe the ridiculous rumors?”

“Of course not,” Your shoulders relaxed a bit. Whatever tension there was between the two of you had melted.

“Well, that’s good to know,” he sat back up in his chair and looked back towards his computer.

“Look, I’m going to be transparent with you about something: I’m not super personable. But my job isn’t to be personable. It’s to strategize and manage our operations. I’m good at what I do, but the board always loves the ones who they can show off at their fundraisers and shit like that.” He looked you in the eyes as he said it. You could swear that his eyes had a touch of red in them, but told yourself it was a trick of the light.

“I understand,” you nodded. “I am personable. I actually really enjoy those events. I’d also like to make a better name for CXOs since the position is becoming more popular, so I don’t mind the attention,” you smiled.

“Well, it’s settled then.” He stood up and you followed suit. “You’ll take care of our horrendous client satisfaction, and go wherever those assholes on the board need you to go.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you stuck a hand out to shake. He met your grasp and you almost gasped at the size of his hands.

“Glad we ended things on a better note than we started them on,” he winked. Your heart fluttered.

“Me too.”

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

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krystal-sylph · 2 years

Text

A Cozy Night | Brian x F. Reader

I drew inspiration for this from a piece of fan-art that ♠️ Embrace Ace ♠️ made a while back (I tried to incorporate the link, but I couldn’t find it on their profile anymore). Anyway, it was an adorable picture that showcased Brian, Tim, Alex, Jay, and Jessica sitting around a campfire in the woods as Alex told them all a story - the story of Marble Hornets. So it was basically an AU that implied the entirety of the series was nothing more than a spooky story Alex made up to keep his friends entertained while they were outside spending time together. I loved how creative it was and just had to make it into a one-shot.

If I made some mistake and credited the wrong person, I apologize! I had first seen the image months ago (and actually wrote this right after lol, but on my Quotev account instead of Tumblr), and I had written down the original artist’s name so I wouldn’t forget. Maybe they deleted it, for some reason? Idk haha. But yeah enjoy reading! Brian’s beautiful and I’ll always be soft for him ^^

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“...And as Tim continued driving down the empty highway, he stared into the camera one final time. If one looked closely enough, they may have been able to see his eyes becoming glossy as the tears welled up. He released a shaky breath - one of relief or one of disquietude, we may never know - and spun the camera around, allowing the viewers to face the road when the car made a turn into nowhere. A moment later, the screen turned black, and there, fading across it in that familiar white font, were the words, ‘everything is fine’...”

Alex met the eyes of his five friends as the story, at last, came to a close, observing their mixed expressions. Some were eagerly looking on in anticipation, others didn’t seem nearly as interested but it was clear he still held their attention. After a few seconds of heavy silence, Y\n leaned forward and whispered, “...Is that it?”

Alex merely gave a small grin before standing to his feet and stretching his limbs out, as they had all been sitting on their respective logs, huddled around the warm fire for the past five and a half hours. Jay’s eyes widened at the implication and he restlessly tugged at his hat, making it obvious to everyone that he wasn’t satisfied. “But–but Alex, dude, you can’t leave us hanging like that! What happened to Tim and Jessica? Did anyone ever find Y\n again? You gotta tell us!”

“Sorry man, but my voice is shot for the night,” he replied, brushing the back of his pants off. “I’m ready to hit the sack.”

“But Alex…!” Jessica whined, clasping her hands together and giving him the classic “puppy-dog eyes”, to which he rose a brow. “I’m gonna be awake the whole night if I don’t know this stuff!”

“It’s up to interpretation.”

“No, but really! Did Tim actually escape from the Operator? You stopped on such an eerie note!” Alex didn’t say anything else as he turned and began making his way into his tent. Y\n smirked slightly at their persistent attitudes and raked her fingers through her hair.

“Say what you guys want, but I for one think it’s the perfect ending to an already great story.” She glanced over at Brian, who had been sitting beside her the majority of the time to see what he thought, receiving a dimpled smile and a nod.

“I agree.” Jessica crossed her arms incredulously. “Not every story has to have a dead-set ending to it. Sometimes, it’s better left up to the imagination.”

“Yeah, maybe for y’all, but I can’t just do that. ‘Imagining’ an ending gives me way too much anxiety.”

“Meh.” Jay shrugged and scratched at his arm. “I just like knowing what happened if I’m being honest. Maybe that stems from my being impatient…”

“Tim! What about you?” The male in question lifted his gaze briefly to acknowledge her before rising up and shaking his head in refusal.

“You aren’t dragging me into this weird little debate. I just wanna go to bed.” He brushed past the two that were already standing and rubbed the back of his neck, presumably because it was sore from the extended lack of movement. “Goodnight.”

The small group watched as he disappeared behind the cloth wall of his own tent; the only shelter that was intentinally set up away from the other ones. No one minded it though, considering Tim just liked the solitude. Jessica broke the short silence with a displeased huff. “Well, whatever. I’ll just write my own ending. C’mon Jay, you can help me so I won’t overwhelm myself.” Grabbing his hand, she hauled them in the direction of her tent while Jay sputtered out poorly-crafted sentences in agreement or objection, nobody could be sure. “Goodnight, guys! See you tomorrow.”

Y\n waved and bit back the giggle she felt tempted to release when Jay nearly tripped over a stray tree root, giving her yet another reminder as to why she needed to watch exactly where she was headed at all times, especially at night. She for sure didn’t want to stumble on something and break her nose - not only would it be embarrassing, but it would put a damper on the rest of the trip, and maybe end it altogether. That wouldn’t have been a preferred outcome for anyone involved.

Once the tent was zipped completely up, all was quiet. The only sound that could be heard was the soft crackling of the fire and occasional, distant cries of the coyotes coupled with the chirping of cicadas. This was one of the many reasons that she loved to camp, and it only made the experience more enjoyable to have some of her best friends to share it with. She could tell that they were all having a relatively good time, even if ones like Tim wanted to complain about bug bites and mud. It was a relationship-strengthening activity that any number of people could do together, and that’s what made it so fun.

Now, only Y\n and Brian remained sitting outside, the lustrous glow that the fire emitted crawling across their faces as they both stared at it, serenity filling the atmosphere between them. “So…how do you think the story ends?” Brian suddenly spoke up after a couple of minutes, brown eyes not leaving the orange flames rippling in front of him. Y\n shifted her position a bit in an effort to get more comfortable and replied in a mellow voice.

“...I like to think that everyone that wasn’t outright said to have died turned out alright…especially cause, they deserved a happy conclusion. But I don’t know really.” She tilted her head up to look at him curiously. “You?”

He considered her opinion as the corners of his lips tugged upward, soon providing his own. “I’m an optimist, so I like your theory. But realistically speaking, Tim - story ‘Tim’, that is - likely went somewhere that he’d be alone and killed himself cause he couldn’t take the agony of losing his friends. And Jessica got sucked into the Operator’s clutches all over again. As for Y\n…” He sent her a cheeky grin, “she totally survived everything against all odds because she’s just that awesome.”

She rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him with her arm. “Uh-huh, sure.” Releasing a gentle laugh, Brian leaned back a little, using his hands to support his body weight so he wouldn’t tumble backward off of the log. They relished each other’s company, enjoying being one with nature in the most peaceful of ways. Without warning, Y\n allowed her head to rest on top of his shoulder and her eyes grew droopy. “It’s pretty, huh?”

“Beautiful.” He welcomed the physical gesture and wrapped his arm around her smaller frame, giving her the opportunity to snuggle closer. “We should do this more often.”

“Hm, I thought you’d like it.” She pulled at her jacket, hoping it would do a better job at conserving heat, as it was getting chillier the more the night progressed. “This is actually the first time I’ve camped out with anyone but my family.”

“That so?”

“I guess nobody else just wanted to be this far away from civilization. They were scared or somethin’.” He released a hum of understanding. “I don’t get that sentiment, though. I think it’s relaxing.”

“To be fair, not everybody grew up in a family that took frequent trips like this. I’m sure the idea of being miles away from any help in case something were to go wrong, or being hunted by some big predator lurking in the woods unsettled them.”

“Pfft, that’s amateur stuff.” She flinched when he poked her side and gave a chuckle.

“The point still stands.” They spent a total of fifteen more minutes sitting side-by-side, not quite ready to say ‘goodbye’ to each other’s presence on such a nice night. But alas, the lethargy was weighing down on both slowly, though Y\n was the first to show it with a squeaky yawn. Brian laughed and bent over to catch sight of her tired face. “You wanna go to bed?”

She was quick to deny the question. “No, no, I’m fine. Let’s just stay here a little while longer…” Her mildly slurred words were all the confirmation he needed, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

“Y\n, you need to sleep. We’re going hiking tomorrow, remember? You can’t do that on zero energy.”

“I’ll…be okay.” Her eyes were almost completely closed, making it clear that she was content to just stay where they were sitting together, but Brian pushed her away gently so he could rise to his feet, then he took her hands and helped her up, much to her protest. “Brian…”

“Y\n…” he replied with the same querulous tone, prompting her to shoot him a half-hearted glare, and he smiled, giving her a good view of the gap between his front teeth. “We’re both tired. I’m sure you’ll konk out as soon as your head hits the pillow.”

She used the tip of her shoe to drag at the dirt and finally muttered a reluctant, “fine…” and Brian tousled her hair in amusement.

“Good. You can go wait for me in the tent while I smother out the fire.”

She did just that, taking off her shoes and instantly collapsing onto her sleeping bag. She had insisted that she and Brian share a tent as soon as he agreed to go camping with her with the claim that “it would be less baggage” and that it would be a way to stay warmer at night when it got cold, but she knew he probably suspected the real reason was simply that she wanted to be close to him as often as she could.

She knew that the fire was gone when the majority of the light leaking into the space vanished, and this was further backed up when Brian revealed himself and zipped up the entrance behind him, capturing the pair in pleasant darkness. She saw his silhouette lay down on top of his own thin bed and grinned to herself. He appeared to still be adjusting to get cozier, and she curled up into a loose ball, feeling safe. “...’Night, ‘Hoody’.”

He turned his head to glimpse down at her as he processed the reference before snorting and flopping onto his back. “‘Night, N\n.”

#brian thomas #tim wright #alex kralie #jay merrick #jessica locke #marble hornets #marble hornets campfire au #brian x reader #marble hornets oneshot #marble hornets fanfiction

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tc-doherty · 2 years

Note

Hey! Happy Storyteller Saturday (Getting this in early this time haha)

You have a book coming out this year!

Treat this as a practice advertisement to my followers!

What's it called? Tell us the tropes! Tell us the genres! Tell us an elevator pitch! Do you have a cover / art to grab the attention of visual readers? :D

@jacquesfindswritingandadvice / bloodlessheirbyjacques ✨

@jacquesfindswritingandadvice

Oh yay! I don't usually get asks for Storyteller Saturday (probably because I'm not online on the weekends) but yes, I do have a book coming out this year! And I would love to talk about it!

Dragon's Daughter is book one of a two-part lesbian knight/dragon love story and my elevator pitch is:

A young dragon is mistaken for a princess trapped in a tower and forcibly "rescued" by a would-be knight in shining armor. Carried off to human society, and with no ability to leave, she has no choice but to accept her newly bestowed noble title and do her best to navigate all of the drama that comes along with it.

(Just to make it clear, her love interest is not the same knight as the one who "rescues" her)

Some tropes: knights and ladies, dragons, general 1200s-ish fantasy setting, finding oneself, found family, political intrigue, lots of queer characters, a medium amount of world-building

The story will be serializing as a web novel starting July 15th before being published as a physical volume. It will be available on the publisher's Patreon along with a second very good, very gay novel by another author.

The cover reveal (and first full chapter, for free!!) will happen in about two weeks, so you're a bit early. But I can say that the story will have 14 very sweet illustrations which are being done the old-fashioned way, as actual block carving prints!

Just for you I will share a thumbnail that we decided not to go with (in favor of another option) so that you can get an idea of what the full art looks like. We're going for the visual style of fantasy novels printed in the 40s and 50s.

And I do have an image of the main character, Lady Patrice Drake, that I drew a few months ago.

You can find the full project introduction and synopsis here.

#Storyteller Saturday #thanks!!#my writing #Dragon's Daughter

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hexpea · 2 years

Text

Ch. 5 - Just a Bath ⚠️SLIGHT NSFW BELOW⚠️

The night of bowling wound up successful. You actually had some meaningful conversation with Gojo, making some kind of headway in getting closer to him. You connected well with your classmates, as always. And, you managed to get the highest score in the second game which you chalked up to Gojo's training. And you had Geto to thank.

As the six of you exited into the dark, February night, snow began to fall at a rapid and thick pace. You clutched yourself tightly as you trudged through the slush on the sidewalk, falling behind the rest of the group. You could already feel the cold setting in, nose running faster than the snow falling. You worked to hold back a sneeze when Geto turned back to notice you weren't keeping pace, seeing your obvious shivers. Your coat was certainly not enough, especially seeing as thick snow like this in Tokyo wasn't common. When you looked up after holding back that sneeze you noticed Geto with a cupped palm over an intently listening Gojo as the pair walked ahead of you toward the station.

Gojo laughed as Geto came away. "What about yours?" He asked, with a grin.

"Not thick enough," Geto said quickly, eyes darting back to your suspicious facial expression.

Gojo then rolled his eyes and halted his steps to remove his coat. Geto also lingered as Nanami, Haibara, and Ijichi walked on.

"Here, Y/N," Gojo said as he walked behind you, placing his coat over your shoulders. "You look like you're freezing."

"Thanks," your face already blushed from the cold. You couldn't believe how well Geto was doing at setting up small moments for you two to share. It no longer felt impossible for you two to become a match.

Gojo stayed by your side as the three of you made your way home, far behind your classmates. You had never felt this type of contentment before. Just a few months ago you considered yourself completely unworthy of Gojo's attention. In a matter of just a few, small events, that thought changed completely. Geto had made things in your life a bit brighter. He helped you become a little more hopeful and a little more confident. Even though it was just a little win, it was a win nonetheless.

Gojo and Geto retired to their own apartments on-campus after dropping you off in front of your dorm. As soon as you got out of your coat, you could feel the ache in your bones. It didn't take much for you to get sick. In fact, there were times it was entirely predictable. And it always happened quickly.

When you were finally settled, you grabbed your things and headed off to the bathroom. Your mind was in a haze as you drew the bathwater and got undressed. Warm thoughts crept in your mind as the room filled with wet steam. As soon as you dipped your toes into the water, you melted physically and mentally. The hot water was deep enough to reach your chin as you leaned back on the porcelain. Despite the sickness settling in, you felt so good. Your nerves were still tingling from his touch, the feeling of individual fingertips placed ever so gently to properly position you in front of the bowling lane. You let yourself give out an excited squeal from under the water as memories stimulated your senses. He was just a man, but Gojo Satoru was going to be your man. You just knew it. And how lucky were you to have his best friend helping you?!

Your own fingertips began to wander down your soft flesh at the tingling sensation of those memories. The warm touch was softened even further from the resistance of the water. Your nerves were more heightened than usual with the thought of your blue-eyed angel. The thought of his dumb, smiling face made your heart race. Your mind perfectly recreated the image of his face, his scent, his careful voice. The daydream came easy, almost as easy as easy as you came with the mere thought of the strongest.

You continued to relax in the tub, post-pleasure, to allow the heat to clear your nose which you noticed was quickly becoming stuffy. What interrupted your moments of peace was your cell phone vibrating against the tile floor. Uncomfortably, you leaned over and slid the bar on the touchscreen, answering the phone call.

"Hello?" You answered, making sure to sound a little bit irritated with the disturbance. You hoped the echoing sound of your voice would be telling enough to get the person on the other line to speak quickly - or even decide to call back later.

"Wow, you sound congested," Geto's shit-eating giggle sounded over the phone. You somehow weren't surprised it was him. And, honestly, you slightly welcomed it. You knew he'd want to talk about the night - keeping the memories you adored fresh in your brain.

"What do you want, Suguru?" There was no need to pretend with Geto on the other end.

"Didn't know we were on a first-name basis, either," he chuckled, "I wanted to check-in to see how you felt about the date. I need some feedback from my work."

"Oh..." The nerves set in again. This was what you wanted out of this conversation, but... To actually vocalize your thoughts of what you were feeling while Gojo was holding you was one thing. Saying them to his best friend was a second. "It was great."

"Great? That's it?" He playfully scoffed. "I thought we did pretty well. He got pretty handsy, didn't he? I bet you had some goosebumps under that sweater of yours. It's almost like he knew what we were up to."

"Sure," you mumbled with a shaky voice, trying to keep the excitement in your chest at bay. The feeling that you thought you had vanquished moments ago had quickly returned - this time almost insatiable.

"I mean, I know you want something more long-term, but physical attraction's the first step, right?" Geto offered as you squeezed your legs tight in an attempt to quietly keep the feelings at bay. His tone was teasing, forcing the images flashing in your mind to grow even more vivid than they were before.

"Yep," you answered shortly, the nerves obvious in your voice. Your hand traveled between your legs, another attempt to satiate the desperate tone that could come across if you let out anything more than one word at a time.

There was a moment of silence on the other line, as if Geto was connecting some dots. "And the coat thing!" The subject had quickly changed. "That was my idea, pretty good, huh?" You could tell he was feeling a bit awkward by his shift in tone. "I'll try and think of more of those little, cute scenarios for you two. Though...I am a guy. I'm not that creative, might need your help."

"Yep, uh huh," you noted, pressing your fingertips further until you were successfully drawing delicate circles around your clit. Before you could say anything else, you had to swallow down a desperate vocalization. It was at this point, your fogged-over brain made the decision that there was no turning back. "Thank you," the expression of gratitude came out more like something more twisted.

"Um..." Geto trailed off in thought, trying to think of what could clear the air and not only disperse the tension but also keep his thoughts straight. "What do you think we should do next? Any suggestions?" For whatever reason, neither of you thought of appropriately hanging up.

"Well, I'm...going to be graduating...in a few weeks," you struggled to get out without pauses. Your neck arched against the back of the tub as you steadied yourself close to orgasm. "Does that give you any...good...ideas?"

"Right! That'll be a good opportunity," he agreed smoothly. "We'll take that to our advantage. And your parents will be coming, too, right? A good time for him to make a good first impression."

"S-sure," you obviously whimpered against his teasing tone. "And...it's just...my mom." Mentioning that was a bit of a mood killer, so as soon as you got that out - you tried to wipe the slate clean by bringing back the image of Gojo's cheeky smile.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" He finally decided to ask. "I mean, I can tell you're congested, but are you in pain or something?"

"No," you answered, once again shortly. "Listen, I...gotta' go," you requested urgently as the tingles began to invade your lower body.

"Are you hurt?" He asked with a more serious tone with genuine concern.

"No!" You growled and hung up the phone. "Goddammit!" Letting the device hit the tiles, you began to pump yourself furiously in an attempt to reach your second high. The images you wanted in your brain weren't there, this time it was just lust and natural instinct to reach climax. "Sugu!" You cried out, but quickly quieted down as soon as you realized what came out of your mouth.

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javier-pena · 2 years

Text

defiance

Part 3 of Hubris

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Is there more between Dieter and you? Your heart would like to think there is, but that rational part of you knows better.

Notes: Okay so I said I was gonna post it tomorrow, but it's done, so here it is! I can't believe this tiny one-shot is now a three part series with more parts yet to come. I want to thank all of you who are reading along, leave nice comments, send me nice messages, and hype me up! I love you guys so much and I hope you're enjoying Part 3! As ever, i owe everything to Dani @javierpcna who outdid herself this time with giving me feedback. This series wouldn't exist without you, Dani 💚

***

“We’re not done yet.”

Those four words echo through your head with alarming frequency and at wildly inappropriate times. In the middle of an important phone call, during the weekly dinner with your parents, while Hans shouts you down. There was only one time – this morning, in the shower – when you were able to do something about it. The muscles in your throat tightened with the memory of his fingers digging into the soft flesh there while you rubbed your clit so hard and fast you came in under a minute. You hated every second of it, hated how the thought of him made you see stars while your whole body shuddered, hated how good you felt after you had pushed through the initial feelings of shame.

It doesn’t help that you have to go to work every day and see him there. It was bearable when you were both still in a professional relationship. Yes, he was an actor you admired, he was fun to be around, he said “please” and “thank you”, he wasn’t above talking to the crew. It was even still bearable after he fucked you against the wall in his trailer because you were both in agreement to avoid each other. But now?

Now he isn’t even pretending to avoid you anymore. Whenever your eyes find his, he stares at you openly, fire in his gaze, he stares daggers into you that make you squirm and ache. It doesn’t help that you cannot avoid each other on set anyway, that those dreaded four words ring through your head whenever you come close to him, whenever you hear his voice, smell his expensive cologne, see his broad shoulders gently push past the people waiting at the lunch buffet. It makes it impossible to forget. And whenever he stares at you with fire, you answer him with ice, throw up your walls, push him away with glares and indifference. Because you don’t want him to know … You don’t want him to know the prospect of him keeping his word sends chills down your spine.

Despite all of this, you’re in a good mood today. There were no embarrassing sex scenes to be shot, everyone was on time, and even Hans’ new task (“Do an inventory of the makeup trailer, I’m sure those people are stealing.”) can’t dampen your mood. You hum quietly while counting bottle after bottle, tube after tube, brush after brush, taking notes on a piece of paper.

Your guard is down, your mind is allowed to wander, and it lands on the scene you were shooting today: the Big Duel (Hans’ words). It is your favorite scene, the one that drew you to the project when you first read the script because it shows a vulnerable side of Hector’s character – it shows he is not afraid to die for the people he loves. But you could never have imagined what Dieter would do with those black words on white paper, how he would give them life and meaning far beyond what your brain imagined when you flipped through the pages for the first time so many months ago. And you’re convinced the scene doesn’t need any post-production, doesn’t need to be tampered with. You want to preserve the image of his shirt hanging in shreds, barely covering his chest, his hair wild, him snarling insults at the main villain while dodging his blows, parrying them with his own sabre. It was only the look in his eyes that finally made you avert your gaze, made you ashamed to look because it brought back memories of seeing it directed at you just three days ago, when he was so angry with you for not finishing what you had started, when he hated you for it.

This is the only part of this day you want to bury so deep even your loud mind won’t be able to reach it anymore. Because it only made you remember what you did afterwards, after he had stormed out, his face still red with arousal. You feel so ashamed of your actions, of masturbating right there in public – you didn’t even have the composure, the self-restraint to drive yourself back home.

You hate him so much for this. You hate him for making you feel so vulnerable and out of control.

That memory awakens a feeling of mild irritation and puts a dent in your good mood. It doesn’t help that this silly task is irritating you now, too. It makes your mind wander more than it should, gives you an itch you long to scratch. All of this has nothing to do with Dieter, it cannot have anything to do with him. Most of your irritation is due to that little voice that keeps telling you you’re lying to yourself.

The itch gets unbearable, especially at the back of your neck. You run your left hand over the clammy skin there, letting out a deep sigh. And then you spot it – a shadow, the flicker of a reflection in the brightly illuminated makeup mirror before you.

Dieter Bravo.

It explains the tingling, the clammy skin, your rapidly beating heart. Fight or flight. But you force your face into a mask, quickly scan the man right behind you. Fight … not flight.

The smirk on his face, his trademark, the one every single magazine mentions when they do a feature on him, is subdued this evening, like he knows he doesn’t need to put any effort into this – he has already won. He leans against the wall of the trailer, at ease, arms crossed over his chest. His chest … the one you saw in great detail today, just covered by some shreds of fabric. Now, it’s hidden beneath a white shirt that might be a size too small. It clings to his torso in just the right way, showing off his muscled chest and soft belly (god, he’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?). His arms, thankfully, are covered by a light, black jacket that goes well with his tight, dark jeans that are held up by a black leather belt with a ridiculous belt buckle of a bald eagle with spread wings. But the thing that catches your attention, the thing that draws you in like a magpie is drawn in by a shiny coin, is the gold chain around his neck, glinting against the white of his shirt, even in the ugly trailer light.

You’re definitely not staring, admiring how well it goes with the earring in his left ear.

“What do you want?” you snap at his reflection. “I’m very busy.” You tap your nails against the clipboard rapidly, impatiently.

His disarming smile would work on any other woman, you’re sure of it. “Now, don’t be like that,” he says, lowering his arms. “I just want to ask you something.”

Oh, you know exactly where this is going. Been there, done that.

“Yeah, right,” you snort, lowering your gaze back to the task at hand.

You should know by now there is no way to get rid of him if he has an idea firmly anchored in his mind.

“That thing you did,” he begins, and you can hear the smile slowly vanishing off his face, “that wasn’t very kind. What have I ever done to you?”

You could play coy, pretend not to know what he is talking about to make him squirm, but you’re not in the mood for games tonight. You’re in the mood for a fight. Just some way to release the sudden bursts of irritation you’re feeling. With a shove against the makeup table, you whip around to face him, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“You’re a smug asshole who thinks he can treat people in whatever way he wants just because he’s somewhat decent looking.” It’s a fragmented description of the issue at hand but saying more would give too much away.

“Says the person who likes to masturbate while watching my movies.”

You take a deep, steadying breath, in through your nose, out through your mouth. You do it again. If you’re not careful, your whole body is going to start to shake with anger and you cannot let him see that. You won’t even let him see the anger and the hurt in your eyes, directing your gaze to his curls that are still perfectly styled from today’s shoot.

Fuck him.

He’s truly not beneath using this confession against you, the one you made while being drunk, while being high on happiness about the Dieter Bravo talking to you, the actor, the man you’d only heard good things about, the one who is so brilliant at what he does for a living the Academy gave him an Oscar as best actor for starring in a comedy. The Dieter Bravo who had refused to drag his ex-wife through the mud after the divorce although countless of tabloids had tried to make him to it. The Dieter Bravo who once used his own money to put the crew of an action movie he was working on in a better hotel after the production company had messed up. The Dieter Bravo who had made you unashamed to explore your own sexuality by refusing to use sex in movies to shock, by always talking about it as a normal part of life.

The thing that hurts you most is how wrong you were about him. He is, after all, just a man, one who’s ready to use a woman’s sexuality against her to embarrass her, to belittle her, to hurt her. You were right to hate him all along. And all that is left is the desire to hurt him in turn.

Your voice shakes when you answer him – with anger, not hurt (it can’t be with hurt, you can’t let him play with your emotions like that). “I used to like you, Bravo. I thought you were different from the other stuck-up actors, but you’re all the same. You all fuck whoever you want just to feel something.”

You quickly muffle that tiny little voice that tells you you’re doing exactly the same.

Those words don’t have the desired effect on him. Instead of throwing you an angry glance and storming off he does the opposite – he walks toward you slowly, menacingly, with purpose in every step, pulling his jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground in one smooth motion. His arms are still shiny from the fake sweat they sprayed him with earlier, and the light gives them a golden glow as he runs his fingers through his hair, making his curls even messier.

A lesser woman would have given in. A lesser woman would have let him have his way. But you’ve seen this before, this seduction, and it doesn’t impress you anymore. He has one trick he uses on everyone, but it won’t work on you a second time.

“And you’re not even that good at it,” you add.

If you’re getting to him, he’s not showing it. His smile doesn’t flicker once as he keeps walking toward you until he’s right in front of you, so close you can see the shadow of your own reflection in his dark eyes.

“What if I don’t want to fuck just anyone?”

You snort to mask the way your breath hitches, to quieten your heart fighting against the constraints of your ribcage, fighting for you to listen to him, to believe him. You can’t; it would be ridiculous. He’s just a man like any other man, thinking he has an easy job of getting in your pants. They will say anything to you just so they can fuck you and leave you. It has happened before and Dieter Bravo, of all people, won’t be any different. Still, his scent is suddenly everywhere, manly, so strong after a day on set, the physical exhaustion that comes with it, and you have to struggle to get the next quip out, to not just lean into him.

“Then why are you doing it?”

He’s so fucking close to you – why is he so close? It feels like you can’t breathe, he takes all the air out of the tiny space left between you.

“Oh,” he says, his smirk flickering for the first time, “you think that’s what this is?”

Seeing that flicker, seeing that tiny crack in his walls, hearing him speak with a voice that you would interpret as earnest if he wasn’t a brilliant actor, makes your throat close up. You’re on dangerous ground now and if you’re not careful you’re going to be sucked in and suffocated.

“What else is this then?” you ask, your jaw set.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He’s offering this to you. There can be no other way to read this – you don’t want there to be any other way to read this. And he almost sounds sincere asking it, too … you almost believe him.

But you can’t let him in.

“Believe me, Bravo,” you reply, with a smirk of your own, “you’re really not that great that I have to ride your dick constantly.”

He raises a hand and for a second you think he’s about to cup your cheek, but then he lowers it again. “Such a pretty lady, yet such a foul mouth.”

The spell is broken. You don’t want to believe him anymore. You want to get away from him, wallow in self-hatred for allowing yourself to hope yet again, for falling for the wrong man yet again. Averting your gaze, you try to push past him, but he grabs your hips, pulls you back, pushes you against the makeup table behind you.

“I told you we’re not done yet.”

Fuck.

You’re so turned on your teeth hurt, your limbs are tingling, you try to press your thighs together because your cunt is clenching, begging to be filled by him. He ghosts his lips over your jaw, all the way up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin and it doesn’t help you in winning this battle over your basest desires.

He whispers, so low and close and there his words become your entire world. “I’m going to make you take it all back … You’ll be begging for my cock once I’m done with you.”

And before you can protest, before you can push him away, before his words and their meaning even reach your brain, he whirls you around, hikes up your shirt, pulls down the leggings you’re wearing, gets down on his knees, and buries his head between your thighs.

You fall forward with a shout at the first contact of his hot mouth against your throbbing cunt. His tongue darts out immediately, tastes you, licks into you, making your hips quiver. The makeup table beneath you rattles; you register how all the little tubes and bottles are toppling over but you couldn’t care less. Not when each of his licks sets your skin on fire. Not when the hold he has on you is so strong it feels as if he’s scared you’re going to fly away, as if that loss would be his end. You just lower your head and bite your lip, completely lost in the sensation of him licking you like a starved man.

And then he moans.

It’s the lewdest sound you’ve ever heard. Definitely the lewdest sound any man has ever made for you. And he moans right into your cunt, with your taste on his lips and tongue. You don’t join him, you can’t, but you let out a breath of air and you relax against him before you can catch yourself, giving yourself over to him.

He notices. He notices how your muscles go slack, how you widen your stance to let him in more. And he stops. He stops his relentless onslaught, the frantic licks, he even lightens his hold. And then he kisses your inner thigh, a quick peck of his wet lips against your burning skin.

It’s a touch that makes you freeze more than anything he has ever done. But before you can decide how you feel about it, he mumbles into your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet … all for me? I bet it’s all for me, you little liar.” A chuckle. “Does it turn you on that much to fight with me?”

It’s a question you don’t want to answer, not even just for yourself. Instead, you ball your hands into fists so hard your nails dig into your palms, leaving half-moon indents. They become even deeper when he runs a finger through your folds slowly, gently, a movement like a caress, followed by a sucking sound and a low moan. The urge to observe, to see him lick his finger clean of you becomes unbearable when you hear that sound, your head spinning with pride at how much he’s enjoying this.

“Here’s what we’re going to do …,” he says once he’s satisfied. “You’re going to watch your face in the mirror, watch what I’m doing to you … and you’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

You’ve never hated anyone more.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Fuck you, Bravo,” is the only response you manage.

He slaps your exposed backside, not so hard you feel a sting, but the sensation of his hand landing on your skin shoots straight into your leaking cunt.

“Is that understood?” he asks.

You’re so wet you can feel it leak down your thighs, and god yes, you want this, you’ve never wanted anything so much your entire life, so you give him the answer he wants to hear.

“Yes.”

He gently strokes his thumb across the spot he slapped. “There’s a good girl now.”

Before you can analyze how these words make you feel, your mind becomes a clean slate. He licks into your folds again, open mouthed, still the same starved man he was before. The wet sounds of his tongue against you fill the trailer, a depraved soundtrack to your activities. Suddenly, you do want to do as you’re told, you do want to watch the effect he has on you in the brightly lit makeup mirror that exposes every wrinkle, every tiny hair, every miniscule movement on the face of the person looking into it.

You raise your head slowly, scared of the sight you’re about to face, yet eager for it. No amount of preparation could have prepared you for your glazed-over eyes, your furrowed brow, that bead of sweat running down your neck. You see it all, every tiny twitch of your cheek, every inch your mouth opens wider, every tightening in your throat. And there’s that spark in your eyes, kindled by the realization, the acknowledgment that this feels fucking amazing. The way he licks into you, the way he holds you in place, the way he moans against you … it all makes you hungry for more, a hunger that is written all over your face, ancient, carnal, selfish. Every time he groans, “Fuck,” against you, buried between your thighs, every time he grips a handful of your ass and pants, “Shit, you taste amazing,” it pushes you closer to the edge. And you’re not afraid anymore.

You’re not afraid to show him, to let him hear how much you’re enjoying yourself. You join in, moan at the way his tongue flicks in and out of you, gasp at the sensation of his teeth digging into your soft thighs from time to time, and you encourage him, you encourage him with a breathless, “Yes, fuck, that’s it,” and a delirious, “Fuck, Bravo, you’re so good at this”. He makes you scream after that by pressing a finger against your clit, so you push your hips back into his eager mouth, tiny sobs tumbling out of your open mouth, riding his face in desperation.

You don’t care anymore. You don’t care that he’s using you. You don’t care about keeping your desires hidden from him. All you care about is how good he makes you feel and how much you love every second of this.

Before you can chase the fuzzy feeling at the edge of your consciousness, before you can let yourself get overtaken with the hunt for release, he pushes two fingers into you, and you gasp, immediately clenching around them and pulling them in deeper. He rests them there while he pushes himself off the ground, revealing his flushed face, his unruly curls, that smirk you love so much. With a deliberate motion, he wipes his mouth and chin and nose clean with the back of his hand, then rests it on the small of your back, pushing you down against the table beneath you. Finally, his eyes find yours in the mirror, his gaze taking your breath away with the intensity you find there.

“Tell me you don’t hate me, and I’ll let you come.”

It’s a simple request, easily enough fulfilled. It is right there, on the tip of your tongue (“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate you, I don’t hate you”), but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Instead, you let out a frustrated groan and lower your head, unable to look at him for a second longer because it will make you break. He will make you break. But he grips your hair and pulls you back up, so you’re forced to look at yourself in the mirror, look into his eyes.

“Say it,” he commands, untangling his fingers from your hair with a shove.

You can’t, so you shake your head no.

“Come on, admit it.” He roughly shoves his fingers deeper into your cunt, making your hips lift off the table. “I know you don’t hate me.”

You bite your tongue, you force yourself to keep your mouth shut. His face falls, you see every detail of it in that brightly lit mirror, and for one hopeful moment you think he’s going to make you come anyway, but instead he pulls out of you. You feel the loss like a punch to the gut, but you only have yourself to blame this time.

Before you can ask for his forgiveness, before you can bring yourself to realize this is what you want to do, he unzips his pants and takes out his cock. Your fingers immediately flex with the memory of being wrapped around it, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how hard he is, how swollen and red and leaking. He runs his hand up and down its length, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until a different pitch of wet sounds fills the trailer. You squirm against the grip he still has on you, desperate for some release, but he doesn’t allow you to move. Instead, he’s making you watch his straining and bulging arms, his tightening neck, his rapid movements so fast the chain on his chest swings in time with them.

He's making you seethe desperate look on his face, his walls completely down now.

He comes with a low grunt, eyes on yours, mouth hanging open. He spills all over your exposed ass and thighs in hot ropes and you moan at that sight, at how it feels to have him on you like this. Your cunt pulses desperately, and you sob, eager for any kind of release, but you missed your chance, and now he’s just using you again, thinking only about himself.

It’s your own damn fault.

He finally lets go of you and your face grows hot with humiliation. Now that he’s done, the shame sets in, hot and heavy on your heart. You want to disappear, you don’t ever want to see him again. But then something damp touches your skin, and you whip your head around to gaze over your shoulder only to find him cleaning you up with a wet tissue, his movements deliberate yet gentle, making sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

There’s disappointment on his face, just a flicker of it, but you catch it, nevertheless. You can’t bear it, so you look away again, waiting for him to leave you to wallow in your shame and guilt.

But then he leans down, close to you, and he whispers, “Let me know when you want to start being honest with yourself …” His voice catches on hesitation before he finishes, “… because I don’t hate you.”

***

[<< Part 2] [Part 4 >>]

***

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #the bubble #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #things are getting serious ........#this is a real series now huh

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ack3rlady · 3 years

Note

Good evening

So here is one of the plots I always imagine you being erwin's little sister and levi is his best friend so he loves you and levi being levi would show through actions like buying the best gifts because he listens and cares also picking you up from places and agrees with erwin that you aren't allowed to have a boyfriend

Is that kinda out of character 🤔

Dinaaaaaaa! Sorry it took me forever to write this! It started off as something and turned into something else and then i had to sit and clean it up. Hope you like it bby!!

Pocket Watch

Summary: You and Levi go from despising each other to being two fools in unrequited love. Hange comes up with a disastrous plan to bring you both together that backfires. Big brother Erwin comes to the rescue :)

Notes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff with a dash of angst, Hange being Hange.

WC: ~3k

Master List

You and Levi had a turbulent start. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you absolutely loathed the man so much that even his presence made you see red. He was rude, disrespectful and above all, tried to murder your brother. From the looks of it, he disliked you too, given you were Erwin’s sister, and also because you charged towards him with your blade right after, only to be restrained by Erwin himself.

Unfortunately, with the loss of Flagon and his squad, Shadis transferred Levi over to yours after that fateful expedition. And for the first time in your life, you hated your job. The thought of waking up in the morning and seeing his grouchy face, listening to his flat, uninterested voice irked you. You lost the will to get out of bed. Hange had to physically drag your body to the training grounds every day.

To say that you and Levi didn’t get along, would be an understatement. It would take mere seconds of being around each other for a new argument to break out. And because you were his new Squad Leader, you were forced to be around him almost all the time. The day mainly consisted of excessive eye-rolling, taunts, sarcastic retorts which would soon turn into a quarrel and then a massive brawl until Miche or Hange stepped in to pry you off each other's throats.

The new nicknames you coined for each other had traveled throughout the regiment. He referred to you as Shithead, and you called him Shitface.

For him, your interactions had turned into a strange form of entertainment. In no time, he had figured out which button of yours to push to get the reaction he wished to see. Meal time, which used to be the only two hours you could spend without him, was also brutally snatched away from you when Erwin insisted that Levi should sit at your table from now on.

“I have to look at Shitface’s shitty face all day. Did you absolutely have to invite him over to eat with us?”, you asked Erwin with your eyes boring holes into Levi, face contorted as if you just bit into a lemon.

The new commander suppressed a smirk; Hange and Miche were not polite enough to do the same.

“As if I want to be around your shitty head for any longer than I need to.”, he quipped nonchalantly, taking a sip of steaming tea out of his cup.

The back-and-forth, constant bickering and impromptu sparring continued until both you and Levi were promoted to captain’s position, a few months after Erwin became commander. Now that you both had your own squads to manage, you didn’t see him as much anymore.

You refused to admit it to yourself, but you missed him; missed being around him even if it only led to another one of your infamous fights. Your eyes would search for that familiar midnight head everywhere you went; relentlessly darting from one face to another until they landed on a silver pair looking right back at them.

Levi was in a similar dilemma. His life seemed a bit too calm, too quiet. No one glowered at him when he began training in the morning. No one screamed bloody murder in his ears every few hours. He actually missed the sound of your voice, even though he considered it the shrillest cacophony until a few days ago.

He found himself looking for reasons to be near you, scheduling his squad’s training sessions around yours. Awkward glances would be exchanged every few minutes, with both of you clearly realizing the difference in the way you looked at each other ever since your new roles drew you apart. They weren't glares of annoyance anymore. There was an unknown warmth present in your gazes. What was this foreign feeling?

“Miss me, Shitface?”, you asked upon bumping into him for the fifth time since morning.

“You wish, Shithead.”, he responded, lips upturned into a smirk.

Lately, there was a new found playfulness in your interactions. The words you exchanged pretty much remained the same, sans the sharp edge they had before.

It was late in the evening. It was also the first anniversary of that catastrophic expedition which stole Isabel, Furlan, and your childhood friend Victoria from this world. You snuck a bottle of whiskey from Erwin’s cherished collection of spirits and fled to the roof, a place you generally retreated to when feeling low.

You were greeted by a lone figure who was already sitting in your spot. But today, Levi’s presence didn’t bother you. On the contrary, you felt relieved to see him. When did the sight of him go from being bothersome to soothing? You took a seat by his side, popped open the bottle, drank to all the loved ones you had lost, and shared stories about them.

Well, you did. He only listened.

“If only I got there in time. I could’ve saved her.”, you sighed, thinking about Victoria.

Levi felt a pang in his heart, because that was exactly how he felt about Isabel and Furlan. If only he had never left. If only he made it back before it was too late.

If only.

You were not much different from him. He regretted treating you harshly without ever understanding your story. He felt terrible about how he never bothered to find out you too were silently suffering from the same pain as him, that there was a tragic reason why you even had a vacant spot on your squad for him to fill.

He watched your face glow under the moon light, your lips spread into a gorgeous yet melancholy smile as you fondly remembered the departed. His breath hitched when he felt a delicate weight on his shoulder, body tensing because this was the first time someone was this close to him.

He slowly looked down at your head leaning on his shoulder, teary eyes looking up at the moon. This moment, this image would forever be etched into his memory. Because the reason why he perpetually craved your presence around him suddenly became clear. Because this was the exact moment, he realized that he was in love.

After you were finished talking to your heart’s content, Levi walked you to your room and stayed long enough to make sure that you fell asleep. That night, he fought hard against this new feeling bubbling up in his heart as he watched your angelic face while you slept – A need to be with you, an urge to tell you how he felt, a longing to feel your skin underneath his fingers, to make you the first and the last face he would see every day.

He valiantly fought against the flutter in his heart, conquered it, and locked it away in the remotest corner of his mind.

You could see the faint light of the rising sun from behind your closed eyelids. You needed to be on the move in a few minutes and start preparing for the day. But instead, you chose to stay in bed, and replay the events from last night that brought a smile to your face – the way Levi’s pale skin shone in the silver luminescence of the moon, the way his softened eyes stayed pinned on yours when you spoke, how the strands of his hair swayed with the cool breeze, how you suppressed the urge to run your fingers through them, how you wanted time to stop just so that you could steal a few more moments with him.

You begrudgingly opened your eyes and removed yourself from the sweet flashback, only to find a delicate pocket watch on your nightstand with a note neatly tucked underneath it. It read -

Time took away my old friends, but also gave me a new one.

- L

Six months had passed since that day. Six months since you were both confronted by your feelings, and also six months since they remained unrequited. He had accepted that this was how it was meant to be, because, one – The world was a shitty place that could rip you away from him at any moment, two – his relationship with Erwin was far too important to jeopardize. Levi decided it was best to remain silent.

You, on the other hand, wanted to live every day like it was your last; and try to experience as many things in life as you could before death knocked at the door. But you knew of Levi’s outlook on relationships, and decided to respect his beliefs, without forcing your ideas on him.

So, you would both hold on to the little things, like having tea and meals in each other company, training together, watching the moon from that same spot on the roof and mainly, searching for each other among the multitude of soldiers, just to exchange silent smiles of assurance before each expedition as if it would be the last time you would be seeing one another.

This didn’t go unnoticed since another pair of eyes, four eyes were hanging on to every single one of these acts.

Hange was an intelligent person, not letting one thing escape their sight. When they were not immersed in analyzing titans, they were studying humans, and their vision was made even stronger by the thick pair of glasses adorning their face.

That is why they did not miss the subtle glances or a single smile exchanged between you and Levi, or even how the man who hated people with a burning passion would willingly enter crowded markets just to find you the perfect present.

It first struck them when he bought a stunning painting of the sun setting beyond the mountains. But instead of finding it hung on the wall of his office, they found it sitting on your desk the next morning. Then it was an intricate tea set that he purchased, which was now located on your table. And finally, the multiple books he painstakingly selected from a quaint shop in the bylanes of Trost that were all lined up on the bookshelf in your quarters.

And they were not the only one noticing these patterns.

The silent but dazzling sparks flying between his sister and his right-hand-man caught Erwin’s eye too. His prominent brow would rise in curiosity when Levi would expressly insist on positioning you in the safer zone of the formation during expeditions. He saw how the captain would turn to you for your opinion on important matters, and you’d respond with a quiet nod. He also observed how Levi was not rude to you anymore, a complete paradox of his behavior from just six months ago, when you used to be the bane of his existence.

His suspicions were confirmed when he casually asked Hange about it. They squealed in excitement when Erwin’s account matched theirs. Miche agreed too, adding his own two cents to the story.

Erwin’s mind was racing, the usual calm in his blue eyes looking stormy. His brotherly instincts were tingling. He had never approved of any man you introduced him to in the past, always finding some or the other reason why they were not good enough for you.

But, upon giving it further thought, he couldn’t fault Levi. He knew that if there was anyone who could protect you better than Erwin himself, it was him.

The only area of concern was his quirky behavior. But he personally witnessed how you could hold your own before the man on numerous occasions. He had noticed how you had begun to smile more often when he was around, and how you remained calm and made better decisions in the face of danger outside the walls ever since you became close with Levi.

Your happiness and safety were all that mattered to your brother.

So, he gave Hange his blessings to carry out their ‘diabolical plan’ to bring you and him together. Together, they recruited Miche as the perfect decoy. According to Hange, the plan was simple. Miche would sweet-talk with you, in turn making Levi jealous. The jealousy would eventually make him flee the comfort of his shell and confess his feelings to you. Simple, right? Unfortunately, it wasn't.

“Hey gorgeous! You look wonderful today.”, Miche appeared out of thin air while you and Levi were sipping on tea and reading the newspaper on a bench under a tree in silence.

Levi’s eyes slightly widened upon seeing the tall man’s hand snake around your shoulder.

“Thanks, Miche.”, you replied politely, albeit a little confused, but not swatting him away.

Miche had been your friend ever since you were a fresh-faced cadet. And he was known for getting close to people to get a good sniff. So, his proximity wasn't a surprise, although the sudden compliments were. But you didn’t dwell over them, assuming that the beautiful morning had him in a pleasant mood.

Levi knew that you were strong enough to tackle Miche to the ground if his touch was unwelcome. The fact that you didn’t refute his advance, meant that you didn’t mind.

Maybe he wasn’t as special to you as he thought. Maybe the unspoken bond between you and him was all in his head. His thoughts immediately began to spiral, and he abruptly stood up and left without a word, leaving a baffled you, and a triumphantly grinning Miche behind.

What Hange, Erwin and Miche thought was the successful execution of their plan, was playing out to be the exact opposite, much to their ignorance.

This happened a few more times over the next week – during training, lunch, meetings – wherever you went, Miche followed. Levi felt his heart skip a beat every time he saw you smile in the other man’s presence. His jaw clenched whenever Miche cooed in your ears, his face just inches away from yours.

Levi was obviously jealous. But instead of stepping in and owning up to his feelings, he began to distance himself from you, only seeing you during work meetings and barely acknowledging your presence even then. He would turn in his tracks every time you were about to cross paths. The serene tea breaks in his company came to an abrupt halt when you would find his office locked and empty when you visited at your designated time.

You were beginning to feel hurt by this newly cold Levi, the equivalent of how he used to be before that night on the roof. Maybe him reciprocating your feelings was all in your head. You felt lonely after suddenly having lost your best friend and support system without even knowing why.

Erwin began to notice changes in your demeanor once more. The beaming and chirpy little sister that he was used to, was showing signs of suffering. But you would never admit to it when he asked; saying that you didn’t want to add to his already full plate.

He found you one night, sitting by the window of your dark quarters in tears. He slapped his palm over his forehead upon finding out that the sole reason behind your heartache was the debacle of a plan that the three had come up with. He came clean and encouraged you to go talk to Levi, revealing that the whole plan was only intended to bring you both closer.

You ran through the hallways, first to his quarters, just to find the doors locked again. Then you headed to the mess hall, hoping to catch him sipping on his late-night tea. But the vast room was deserted except for the scouts scrubbing it clean. So, you nervously headed to the place you were sure to see him. And that’s exactly where you found him.

There he was, perched at the exact spot on the rooftop, the same place where you had spent numerous nights together over the last whole year.

Levi perked up upon hearing your approaching footsteps. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was you.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.”, you said, taking a seat at your old spot beside him.

“Well, you found someone else to talk to.”

“So, you just decided to leave?”

“I figured you had Miche and didn’t need me anymore.”

You turned to him in disbelief. The unchanged expression on his face was a sign that he did indeed believe what he just said.

“Do you just think you're that easily replaceable in my life? That someone can just walk in and take your position?”, you asked

“You did just let him do it, didn’t you?”

“Ugh!”, you harshly pushed his shoulders with both your hands. “I did not! Stop saying that you Shitface!”

“Tch! What's your problem, Shithead?”, he scolded, tightly clenching the collar of your jacket in his fist.

“My problem is that I’m in love with you and you’re too stupid to see it.”

His eyes and lips shaped into three round Os. “Huh?”, he huffed breathlessly.

“I love you. Since that evening that we spent right here one year ago, and I’ve been in love with you ever since . Miche was acting on some stupid directions that Hange gave him. There’s nothing between him and I, Levi. It’s you. It’s always been you.”, you said, quoting Erwin’s words and revealing Hange’s plan to him.

With that same fist around your jacket, Levi pulled you close; crashing your body into his, gently pressing his lips upon yours. Your heart began to pound upon his touch that you had been yearning for since over a year. His lips were warm, and soft, and he gingerly nibbled on yours, making you smile into the kiss. You felt his cool fingers raking through your hair accompanied by gentle hums of bliss. He finally broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath, resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you, Shithead.”, he whispered. “But, I’m going to kill those two giants and four eyes tomorrow.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman headcanons #aot hcs #levi ackerman #levi headcanons #captain levi #anime #levi aot #levi ackerman x you #Mia.answers

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jenojaemssss · 3 years

Text

good to me (l.jn)

pairing: jeno x gn!reader

category/theme: angst LOL someone help me

warnings: mentions of cheating, mild cussing

jeno walks into every lonely room and does a double take. the once lively apartment is now empty, practically a ghost-house. he glances over all the bare walls and takes in the stale color of the paint you’d chosen all those months ago when the two of you first moved in. the silence is deafening.

it was the same room where he watched the love of his life pack up their belongings into a small backpack, not even sparing a look in his direction. he watched you cry in silence, your sniffles and rushed movements shattering his heart to pieces.

he couldn’t even muster up the confidence to apologize after telling you what had happened that night.

he still remembers how you kept your habit, even during a time where your mind was most likely running miles a minute. before you exited the room, leaving jeno alone, you carefully shut the door behind you.

he didn’t mean to hurt you that night. he didn’t mean to come home with the scent of someone else tangled in his hair. he didn’t intend to have someone else’s marks on his neck. he never had the intention of breaking you and your heart.

but he was dumb enough to let it happen.

he remembers your heavy footsteps as you made your way to the front door.

jeno’s mind was racing; brain consumed with the images of himself entangled with someone else. he felt his stomach churn, his dinner threatening to escape as the memories continued to consume his entire existence. regret flooded his brain.

jeno always assured that you were the one for him. he always made sure you knew that he loved you, although he never spoke the words. he was never one to be affectionate, not one to express his feelings, but his actions meant a thousand-or maybe even more- of the words he didn’t say.

the man in charge of keeping your heart safe ended up being the one to completely destroy it.

when jeno hears the sound of keys jangling from his standstill position, he can’t help but think about how the sound of your own set of clanking keys reached his ears that night.

and how something inside of him snapped.

the thought of you leaving made his knees weak, him knowing well enough that he couldn’t fathom a life without you in it. jeno dashed to the living room before you could place your hand on the doorknob, knocking down a few things when he exited the room.

his eyes were wide, brimmed with tears that were threatening to spill. it was as if he was trying to get the message across to you, screaming at you to stay. to not go. pleading you to not step out of the door. telling you that he needs you.

the way his eyes glimmered with a hint of hope when you stopped dead in your tracks to turn your head towards him. eyes so desperate that a small part of you wanted to stop and let him explain; to let him apologize.

you shook your head, simultaneously shaking yourself of the foolish thoughts. he immediately shrunk. he knew what he did was something unforgivable. but it was worth a shot.

“y/n, i’m sorry,” he breathed out before you could twist the lock.

your sniffles were turning into quiet sobs and it took almost everything in jeno to not envelope you in his arms. he knew it would have only made things worse. so he stood there, feet planted in the ground, his hands clenched into fists so tight he drew blood.

“i know,” you managed to let out before opening the door completely and letting yourself out. from the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of defeat rush over jeno’s face. he was trying to get a last glimpse of the love of his life before the two of you would become strangers.

the sound of jaemin’s voice brought jeno back to the current day, and he looks up from his distant stare at the wall.

“ready to go?” his friend taps his shoulder.

jeno’s shoulders tense up for a second before they begin shaking vigorously. jaemin doesn’t hesitate to pull him into his arms, rubbing small circles onto his best friend’s back. he whispers words of encouragement and reassurance into the shaking boy’s ears, causing his shoulders to shake even more.

“i closed every door, you know,” jeno mumbled into jaemin’s embrace. his friend nods, saying nothing, only continuing to rub small circles onto jeno’s back.

jaemin knew that if any more words were exchanged, it would only make things worse.

old habits die hard, and yours of closing doors before exiting a room rubbed onto jeno. the littlest things reminded him of you, but taking the step of moving out of your shared apartment only pushed jeno further off the edge.

“i miss y/n, jaemin, i miss y/n so fucking much it hurts.”

jaemin nods again, humming at jeno and letting him spill more tears onto his sweater.

mark and donghyuck enter the apartment, calling out for the two boys. they’re incoherently yelling for jaemin and jeno to hurry; that the movers were about to leave and renjun was doing his best to stall them for jeno to do a double check of the items. jaemin slowly lets go of jeno right before the two louder boys enter the room. he gives them a look, as if telling them to let jeno have another minute to himself.

as the three boys slowly exit the room, they leave the door open for jeno, who takes one last look around the bedroom before he’s closing every door, leaving all memories of you behind.

#jeno angst #lee jeno angst #jeno scenarios #lee jeno #jeno lee #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream jeno angst #nct dream jeno #jeno drabbles #lee jeno drabbles #jeno fluff #lee jeno scenario #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #jeno smut

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e-jaegerenthusiast · 3 years

Text

how eren lost his virginity

art credit to Redwarrior3 on DeviantArt

(not modern au, slight season 4 p1 spoilers )

“I’m making love with her through you, so let me keep my eyes closed”

warnings; smut, seducing manner, slight angst, masturbating, slight somnophilia, kind of dubcon? not really.

w.c; 2.4k

eren never thought much of his sexual desires, he didn’t have time to, neither did he have a logical explanation for them, no one had ever explained it to him either. as he grew older, he started feeling things, feeling things deep in his stomach. at first he associated them with his titan powers, he wouldn’t know what to make of it, his world was so much bigger now for him to focus on his raging hormones.

but he knew one thing, it only happened when mikasa was around. it would happen when he would watch her put her straps on for expeditions, the belts hugging her form tightly, showing out the features of her body. why was he always thinking about her body? his cheeks would grow a crimson red, looking away instantly, he was only fifteen after all.

but it started getting worse. at sixteen, his hair wasn’t the only thing that grew.. with that grew his lust, and his glances, and his frustration. one night, he couldn’t sleep, because something else was keeping him awake. he had woken up a few months ago with white, gooey liquid staining his crotch, he didn’t think much of it. only gave it a weird look and moved on with the trainings of his day.

but now? he was laying on his back in the sleeping quarters, his hair fanning around his neck as he sighed, his dick was straining against his pants painfully, even though he wasn’t wearing tight pants to sleep. he shuffled around his bunk bed, sitting up and looking above him, armin was asleep. his emerald eyes moved accross the room, to mikasa’s bed.

she slept on the bottom bunk, the top bunk empty. one of her arms was under her head, her knees bunched up into her stomach as she slept peacefully, her eyes were closed, lashes unmoving. eren’s lips tugged upwards, getting up from his own bed and tiptoeing over to hers.

he stood tall next to the bed, and then he leaned down, sitting on his knees so his face was leveled with hers. he stared at her, he didn’t even know how long, he studied all her features, he couldn’t look at her like this in the day. it would be too obvious, or she would think of him weirdly, he couldn’t stop the swooning feeling in his chest as he took her in.

her lashes were beautiful, he wanted to caress them. her cheeks were defined, he wondered how they would feel in his palms. her nose was turned upwards, he thought about how their noses would touch if they kissed. if they kissed… her lips, her lips looked so soft, he wanted to touch them, but he knew she was a light sleeper.

she always had her gaurd up, one touch to her face and she could wake up. he didn’t want to take that chance, but then he saw the way her short hair fell to her face, covering one side of her eye. his hands inched closer to her face, his calloused middle fingers grabbing at her hair and stroking it behind her ear, she took a deep breath in her sleep, and eren’s hand shook.

he retracted immediately, going back to his bed in slow steps, laying back down against the pillows. but his eyes were still open, and his dick was still hard, possibly harder now. he sighed, closing his eyes and squeezing them together, he had to focus. there’s no time for playing around now, he wasn’t a normal teenager. but didn’t he still have the normal teenager wants?

he moved up against the pillows, his back straight against the wall behind him, he looked down at himself, a very obvious bulge showing in his crotch, he furrowed his brows in confusion, what if he touched it? maybe it would go away. that’s what he thought.

his fingers gripped the waistline of his pants, moving it down slowly, he wasn’t wearing any underwear, he couldn’t sleep in them. his cock was now visible to him, standing straight up, dripping with precum. his face was disturbed, frowning because he didn’t even know his own body. all of his guardians have died before they could teach him anything.

he shook his head, trying to put negative thoughts away as he studied his own dick, he had never seen himself this big, this..long. he took his right hand, his fingers touching the tip of his cock, and he sighed, his eyes rolling back in his head. he looked back down again, wetness covering the tips of his fingers.

and then he experimented something else, taking his hand and wrapping all his fingers around his cock, gripping it like he should. he was panting, he hated himself for it. why was he so weak? his face was red as a tomato, he bit down on his bottom lip, closing his eyes, tilting his head to the side and gripping himself harder.

he then moved his hand, first in a circular motion around himself, and then up and down. they both felt different, one had him grunting deep in his throat, and the other had him panting crazy. then he combined them, and his eyes shot open in pleasure. but since his head was tilted, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was mikasa’s sleeping face.

suddenly, the pleasure felt five times better, he threw his head back, adam apple bobbing as he swallowed. he looked back at her again, she looked so innocent like this, he wanted to ruin it. he looked at the same features he had before. her lashes, he wanted to see them flutter just like his were right now. her cheeks, he wanted to see a deep red like his were now. her nose, he wanted to feel her breath deeply through it just like he was doing now.

and her lips? he wanted to ruin them, he didn’t know how. he didn’t know how he could use his dick with her, surely there was a purpose for the pleasure he was feeling? surely he could share it with her. when he thought of that, and thought of her body, how her tits would slightly rise up and down with the calculated breaths she was taking, he wanted to ruin those breaths.

he moved his hand faster, jerking himself off to her. all he could think about was her, her, her. he brought his left arm up, wanting to bite down on it to hide his moans, because they were going to get louder, he didn’t know why, but he felt it. as soon as he opened his mouth to bite down on his arm, he retracted, images of him turning into a titan and destroying everything making him slightly panic.

he couldn’t take that risk, he brought his arm down in frustration, taking the blanket near him and biting down on it harshly, he knew he had sharp fangs. he couldn’t risk it if he drew blood on his own skin, he thought he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

his grunts were muffled against the fabric, his head tilting towards mikasa again, and when she moved her sleeping position, laying on her stomach, he could see her plump ass so perfectly. his hips bucked up against his own hand, tears prickling around his lashes as he came hard. he didn’t know what was happening, but it felt good. so he kept going until his stomach was covered in the same white liquid that he saw before.

some of it covered his hands, dripping down his fingers, he let out a deep breath, smiling and sighing at the same time. he got rid of the frustration. he didn’t know how, but he did. he got up to clean himself with a cloth, staring at armin which was sleeping soundlessly on the top bunk. he’d ask him about this stuff tommorow, surely he had read some books on human anatomy. the only thing eren didn’t know, was that this was a start of an addiction.

•••

eighteen.

he kept his eye on the marleyan nurse, bored and bland expression on his face, he studied her body language, he knew what it meant. he knew that she was desperate for him, her cunt was desperate for him. he could feel it everytime she wrapped a new set of bandages around his eye that he supposedly lost. she’d put one of her legs in between his crotch, her knee pressing against his inner thigh as she slowly wrapped the bandage around his head.

this time, she didn’t move after she had finished with the bandage. her knee inched closer to his crotch as she spoke with her too-girly of a voice, her fingers brushing up against the stubble on his jaw, “mr.kruger,” his eyes studied her face, she was biting her lip. he hummed indifferently, the name was now familiar to his ears, it was like he was one with him. he had his memories after all. “why don’t you shave your beard?” he wasn’t even blinking, just staring at her eyes as they raked over him shamelessly.

her hands went to his long hair, stroking some strands that were in his face back, “or cut your hair? should I cut it for you?” he stared back at her, his hand going to hers in his hair, putting it down so she could stop touching it. “I like it better this way, nurse.” he said in a bored tone. I don’t because I need to move forward.

she smiled, but it wasn’t the smile he wanted to see. it didn’t suit her, he wanted to get it off her face. her hands moved down his chest, his breaths controlled as she spoke in what she thought a seductive tone, to him it was just annoying. “call me mia, eren.”

his nose twitched, stopping himself from scrunching it at the way she said his name, her hands went to her throat in a mere second, pushing her close so their noses were touching, “but you need to keep calling me mr.kruger, got it?” his fingers squeezed around her throat, making her let out a choked out hum, smiling as she completely straddled his lap now.

he wanted to shove her off, bend her over the table next to them and fuck into her without having to see her face, it wasn’t the one he wanted to see. but he couldn’t even do that, he had to pretend he actually lost half his leg. how pathetic, he thought.

so he let her, he let her grind her cunt against his thigh with his eyes closed. he pretended it’s her, he thought of her, that’s the only way he could get himself hard. mia’s aroma was all around him, it didn’t smell like her. so he stopped breathing through his nose, he opened his mouth to breath instead. she thought he was enjoying it though, she though his simple breathing was him panting. so she smiled, eren didn’t even need to see it to know. dumb bitch.

he frowned as she let a moan out, opening his eyes and looking at her with anger, he pretend a fake smile, “you gotta keep quite, mi— mia, got it? wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re getting off on a poor patient okay?” he didn’t want to hear her. she didn’t sound like her. she nodded aggressively, biting her lips as her hands went to the waistline of his pants, pulling them down.

her eyes widened at his size, her movements on his thigh stopping. he scoffs, “what? didn’t you want it?” bet they’re all shrimps in marley, you’ve never had a paradis devil’s dick have you? he thought, internally smiling.

she was frozen, her jaw wide open as he took his hands to her hips, bringing her up to the tip of his cock, she looked alarmed, “you can take it. you have to, after all the weeks of touching me.” she winced as he entered her, he didn’t even make a sound. his eyes were open as she let out deep breaths, trying to keep her moans in like he asked of her.

he bottomed out, letting her adjust to his thickness for a few seconds as he shushed her, “sshh now, we wouldn’t want everyone to know how much of a whore you are to your patients.” she bit down on her own arm, circling her hips into eren, and clenching down hard around him.

eren threw his head back, tapping on her hip twice, “go on then, use my cock to fulfill your stupid desires.” he closed his eyes, feeling her struggle to move up and down above him, but she got the hang of it eventually, her hands bunching up eren’s shirt as she rode him.

all he thought of was her. behind his closed lids, it was mikasa who was bouncing on his cock, it was mikasa that he lost his virginity to, it was mikasa that was letting out ragged breaths struggling to take his cock.

until he felt lips on his own, kissing him. they didn’t feel like her. he had spent years looking at her lips, he would know every ridge of them if they were to ever be on his. he growled, his hands going to mia’s hips and starting to fuck up into her. her mouth was open, but no sounds were coming out.

he grunted as he fucked up into her, his hands tightening around her waist, some of his long hair sticking to his forhead. he could feel her clenching around him, her arms around his neck tightly, his head buried in her neck but still not breathing through his nose.

and as she came around him, he felt like he was close too, his eye squeezed so shut he could almost feel pain in the one he didn’t have. he was close, until he felt her boobs press up against his clothed chest. they were too small, they weren’t hers. she wasn’t her. she couldn’t cum without her. her, her, always her.

so then he refused the offer of the nurse going down on him, that would be worse. he wouldn’t want anyone’s mouth near his cock if it wasn’t her. the nurse got out, struggling to walk as she tripped on her own steps. and eren? he had to take care of himself, like the many times he did after that night.

all he thought about was her as he came, trying to scramble through the memories of the future in his head. one were he could feel her, feel all of her. how could he work towards that? what choices would he have to make? how many people would have to die? he was going insane.

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #snk #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren snk #eren aot #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x eren #eremika #mikasa #mikasa aot

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you-didnt-see-that-cuming · 3 years

Text

Mirror’s Image | Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Being with Javier feels like paradise. Being fucked against a mirror by Javier feels like euphoria.

Rated: E

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been on my loving pedro bullshit again so here is some mirror sex with javier peña

When working as a DEA agent in Colombia, there were rarely ever moments that called for celebration. However, the raid based on information that Y/N had spent countless hours and sleepless nights collecting and deciphering was definitely one of those moments. Several tons of cocaine, crates of firearms, and multiple high-ranking and very wanted narcos had been seized with no casualties, along with new information about how Escobar was smuggling things in and out of Colombia.

Even Carillo, who rarely ever smiled, had seen all the work Y/N had put into organizing the raid and was hiding a grin when he announced a celebratory dinner at a bar down the street from the embassy. Y/N was heading back to the police cruisers for a ride back to the embassy when Javier appeared suddenly at her side, his voice low and his hand sliding into her back pocket.

“You have no idea how sexy you looked pointing a gun and shouting orders hermosa, I almost took you right then and there,” he whispered, leaning closer so that only she could hear him. Y/N could feel her cheeks heat and a spark tugging deep in her stomach. The two of them had been secretly seeing each other for over a year, not even clueing Murphy in on what they were behind closed doors.

“Javier! What if someone sees us?” Y/N whispered harshly, although she wished she could lean into him and finally feel his hands on her properly after the long day they had had. His hands were always warm and soft against her skin, a juxtaposition from his perfectly calloused fingertips that would leave marks on her sides for weeks. The thought of him holding her up against the wall, bruising her thighs as he drew orgasm after orgasm from her was enough to make her feel an even more powerful surge of sparks in her abdomen.

“Don’t worry hermosa, I’ll have you all to myself tonight,” Javier leaned into her neck and lightly bit down on the edge of her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine and intensifying the sparks in her core. Her eyes fluttered shut as Javier pulled away, walking in the opposite direction as if nothing had happened, a confident swagger in his gait.

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep from moaning, now frustrated and wanting a certain someone between her legs, and it wasn’t until Carillo’s voice startled her out of her thoughts that Y/N took her eyes off of Javier and his immaculate frame.

“You alright there Y/N? I thought you’d be heading back to get ready for tonight?” Carillo was an intimidating man, his shoulders and chest broad and a no-nonsense sort of look that was plastered on his face at all times.

“Oh! Yes, um, I was just distracted for a moment, yes I’m heading back right now, I think I’m going to take a shower and get all of this grime off of me,” Y/N chuckled nervously before she rushed into one of the cruisers getting ready to leave for the embassy. She still had a couple hours before she had to arrive at the time Carillo had given everyone, and although Carillo was a stickler for punctuality, Y/N would still have time to unwind in the shower and prepare for the night. After all, if she wanted to spend the night with Javier like he had teased her earlier, she might as well make it worth her while.

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s shower was the first time that she had been able to fully relax over the past few months. Almost all of her time had been spent pouring over evidence and tracking down witnesses and information, so the steam was a welcome treat for her aching muscles. Y/N stood beneath the rainfall setting of her shower, slowly kneading at the knots in her shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she had done something as indulgent as taking a hot shower for longer than 20 minutes. Her only true indulgence had been Javier’s company whenever they decided to spend the night together. After a long shower that was desperately needed, it didn’t take long to finish getting ready and begin the drive to the bar.

It wasn’t a long drive, only about 10 minutes, but it gave Y/N the opportunity to listen to the radio and reflect. So much had happened within the two years that she had been working with the DEA in Colombia. The first 10 months or so had been filled with helping Javier and Murphy on cases, all while dealing with dangerous narcos and dodging the flirtatious advances of Javier.

It wasn’t until Y/N had gotten shot in the stomach on one of their assignments that Javier had realized that the reason why he hadn’t been frequenting the best brothels of Bogota for the past couple months was because of Y/N. Only 4 weeks later, the two had begun secretly seeing each other after work, meeting up at restaurants where no one they knew could run into them.

But Javier had promised that once Y/N had gotten her big break on a case, they would go together to HR and officially fill out the paperwork stating that they were a couple. Y/N had just gotten her big break on a case. She knew that the raid wouldn’t be the only thing that she would be celebrating that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple of drinks, everyone seemed to have loosened up and were engaged in loud conversation with one another. Y/N, however, kept glancing over to Javier, who was seated next to her. He always looked attractive, but Y/N could practically feel the sex appeal that was coming off of him in waves. He was wearing a button up with the top few buttons left open, revealing his smooth, tanned chest. She didn’t blame the lingering eyes of other women in the bar, after all, she had been one of them not too long ago.

So far, they had been careful about any public displays of affection, but after the stunt that Javier had pulled back at the raid, Y/N decided to throw all caution to the wind. Carefully, she placed her hand on his knee under the table. She could feel how he tensed slightly under her touch before relaxing again. Y/N waited a few moments before she began slowly running her fingers up his thigh, taking her time to draw flowing patterns like vines.

It wasn’t until she was only a few inches away from his groin when his hand suddenly seized her wrist. He leaned in close, just as he had done at the raid, but this time there was an edge to his voice, like he was straining to get the words out.

“What do you think you’re doing hermosa?” his words were almost like a growl with how deep his voice had gotten.

Y/N blinked innocently at him, an expression that did not match what she was attempting to do with her hands.

“What do you mean, Javi?” a smile was starting to spread across her face at Javier’s raised eyebrow. His grip tightened slightly around her wrist before he released her, standing up abruptly. Pulling an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he stalked off towards the back door of the bar, presumably to smoke in the back alley.

Y/N had certainly gotten a reaction from him, he was always so… responsive beneath her touch. She would pay for it later though, a thought that had her mouth watering and her thighs clenching together. Recalling the memory of his face between her thighs or her front pressed against the balcony window as he pounded into her from behind, teasing her and forcing her over the edge more times than she could count was enough to make her desperate for his touch.

Y/N waited until the song that was playing over the speakers had begun transitioning into the next before she stood to follow him. Y/N knew where to go, the door to the back alley was in the service hallway next to the bathrooms, a trip she had taken multiple times before for various drunken smoke breaks.

She almost had no time to react when she was suddenly pulled into one of the bathrooms and pushed up against the door, forcing the air out of her lungs. Javier’s mouth was on her neck within seconds, tracing the line of her jaw and down to her shoulder.

“Querida, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmured, his lips still tracing her neck.

“Mmm, why don’t you show me, mi amor?

Javier’s lips were on hers within seconds, his hands roaming across her body like he couldn’t get enough of her touch and the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips.

Y/N couldn’t help but moan, Javier tasted of his usual whiskey and cigarettes, a combination that was always intoxicating to her. He wasted no time in beginning to unbutton the buttons of her blouse, trying to rid her of as much clothing as possible so that he could touch more of her.

Their kiss quickly became frenzied, both of them chasing a high that only the other could give. Within moments, Javier’s hands were on Y/N’s waist, turning her around and pressing her up against the mirror covered wall.

“Look at how perfect you look for me querida, looking like a fucking angel for me,” Javier’s voice was deep and raspy as he mouthed kisses over her neck, slowly and with purpose.

Y/N used her arms to brace herself against the mirror, looking at her reflection through her lashes. She looked absolutely wrecked, her hair was a mess, lips puffy, and the heaving of her chest from her panting was on full display. Javier stood behind her, giving open mouth kisses to her neck as his large hands traveled up her abdomen, squeezing one of her breasts in his hand.

“Look at how beautiful you look for me, hermosa,” his voice now a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.

“Javi, please! Do something, I- I need you to touch me,” Y/N was pliable beneath his touch, she could feel his cock gliding over her folds, teasing her as she arched her back.

Without warning, Javier thrust forward, sheathing himself within her in one, swift movement, forcing a gasp from her lips. He stilled for only a moment before setting a punishing pace. Each thrust drove deeper and harder into Y/N, slowly pulling her apart and driving all rationale from her.

Y/N moaned as she watched their reflection in the mirror, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, the glimpse of Javier’s curls from behind her shoulder, the indentations of her waist where his fingers held her, and the way his cock looked every time he entered her. All of it made her stomach spark in arousal.

With one particularly hard thrust, Y/N let out a cry, her arms giving out and her body pressing up against the cold mirror. She could see the condensation building from their gasping moans and the heat of their bodies.

“Oh my god, Javier, r-right there, fuck-” a broken moan escaped her lips as he continued fucking into her, his fingers coming to grasp her thigh roughly.

“You like that princess? You like how I fuck you?” Javier growled, his hand pressing even deeper into the flesh of her thighs and waist.

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Y/N’s moans echoed slightly off of the tiled walls. “God you feel so good, don’t stop Javi,”

“Always look like a fucking vision on my cock, don’t you? Always feel so fucking good for me, because you are all mine,” he said, biting down on her shoulder. A thin sheen of sweat was layered over Javier’s beautiful, tanned, olive skin, emphasizing the flexing of his muscles with every movement.

With his right hand, Javier threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping it in a vice-like hold at the back of her head, and roughly pulled her up so that they made eye contact through the mirror, Y/N’s mouth falling open in arousal at his actions.

“Look at how gorgeous you look for me, coming apart on my cock,” Javi had a smirk on his face, like he knew that she was completely at his mercy. “You like it when I fuck you like this? In the bathroom while everyone thinks you’re out smoking?”

Y/N couldn’t even attempt to answer properly, her mind too clouded with euphoria and the building of her orgasm, each rigorous thrust pushing her further over the edge.

“Come on, answer me amado, you like being fucked like this?” Javier’s brought his hand down in a firm slap to Y/N’s ass, drawing a shocked yelp from her lips.

“Yes! Yes, I love it Javi, please I- I’m going to cum, don’t stop!”

It only took a few more thrusts before Javier’s hips began stuttering and losing their steady rhythm.

“Where do you want me querida?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper in her ear.

“Inside, please I want you inside me Javi,” her voice was a breathy moan, a sound which always drove Javier over the edge.

Y/N’s orgasm washed over her, her vision temporarily going white from the euphoria she was experiencing. Only moments later, Javier’s low moan registered next to her ear as he came, filling her up with his cum.

Javier was still pressed to Y/N’s back, both of them panting as they tried to catch their breaths.

“You always look so beautiful after I fuck you, mi alma, I swear its like you were sculpted by the gods,” Javier mumbled as he pressed gentle kisses to her shoulder, just like he always did after he made her fall apart beneath his touch. Y/N loved this Javi, this was the Javi who woke up early on the weekends to go to the farmers market to get fresh fruit for her, the Javi who danced slowly with her in his living room to his old vinyls, the Javi who no one else but she got to see.

“Mmm, you always take such good care of me, amado,” Y/N was met with a soft grunt as Javier wrapped his arms around her midsection, pulling her even closer to his body.

“I’m going to show you just how well I can take care of you tonight, after all, you deserve to be worshipped,” he said as he continued pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. Javier had always been soft and gentle after sex, after years of meaningless sex with informants and prostitutes, he craved the caring touch he only got when he was with Y/N.

A comfortable silence passed between them before Javier slowly pulled out, his cum slowly beginning to drip down Y/N’s thighs. Y/N barely registered that Javier had taken a damp paper towel and was cleaning up the mess he had left inside her.

Y/N turned, leaning back against the mirror to watch Javier as he began getting redressed. Only a moment later, he began redressing Y/N, tenderly moving her body to put on her blouse and skirt.

Y/N hummed, her hand coming up to caress Javier’s cheek lovingly.

“See? Like I said, always taking such good care of me,”

A longing look crossed over Javier’s eyes before he took her face in his hands, pulling her into a slow, passionate kiss. When they finally parted from their sweet embrace, Javier rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyes flutter closed in content and happiness.

“Te amo, mi alma,”

“Te amo, Javier,”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #narcos #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction

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tc-doherty · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,548 times in 2022

That's 1,548 more posts than 2021!

715 posts created (46%)

833 posts reblogged (54%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@muddshadow

@asher-orion-writes

@magefaery

@tc-doherty

@italiangothicwriteblr

I tagged 1,438 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#writeblr - 376 posts

#writing - 294 posts

#my characters - 170 posts

#thanks!! - 170 posts

#tc's writing - 112 posts

#ask games - 110 posts

#blorbo blursday - 109 posts

#dragon's daughter - 87 posts

#thanks! - 77 posts

#my stories - 74 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#a drawing of keril and tirzha meeting would just be that elmo hellfire gif with the 2 of them and everybody else screaming in the background

My Top Posts in 2022:

Synopsis:

In a ruined castle deep in the wilderness, there lived a beautiful princess guarded by a ferocious dragon. Except for the fact that the maiden in the tower was no princess at all, but the dragon’s daughter. Rescued against her will, she is carried off to human lands and given the name Lady Patrice Drake.

Caught between culture shock and grief, she must find a way to navigate her strange new surroundings lest she be drowned under human machinations and politics.

Who among these people are enemies? Who among them are allies? And most importantly, who is she without her mother's guidance and protection?

Age range: new adult

Warnings for: occasional, non-graphic violence

Dragon's Daughter is the first book of a fantasy lesbian love story duology that I started writing quite some time ago. I'm very excited that this book will finally be coming out this year! Look forward to more information being revealed in a few months~

24 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Hey! Happy Storyteller Saturday (Getting this in early this time haha)

You have a book coming out this year!

Treat this as a practice advertisement to my followers!

What's it called? Tell us the tropes! Tell us the genres! Tell us an elevator pitch! Do you have a cover / art to grab the attention of visual readers? :D

@jacquesfindswritingandadvice / bloodlessheirbyjacques ✨

@jacquesfindswritingandadvice

Oh yay! I don't usually get asks for Storyteller Saturday (probably because I'm not online on the weekends) but yes, I do have a book coming out this year! And I would love to talk about it!

Dragon's Daughter is book one of a two-part lesbian knight/dragon love story and my elevator pitch is:

(Just to make it clear, her love interest is not the same knight as the one who "rescues" her)

Some tropes: knights and ladies, dragons, general 1200s-ish fantasy setting, finding oneself, found family, political intrigue, lots of queer characters, a medium amount of world-building

And I do have an image of the main character, Lady Patrice Drake, that I drew a few months ago.

See the full post

37 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

Current Project List

Story type: Fantasy, F/F romance

Age range: 14+

Warnings for: Genre typical, non-graphic violence

Synopsis:

Caught between culture shock and grief, she must find a way to navigate her strange new surroundings lest she be drowned under human machinations and politics.

Who among these people are enemies? Who among them are allies? And most importantly, who is she without her mother’s guidance and protection?

See the full post

39 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

I've only been keeping track of my word count since 2009, but if I keep up the pace that I'm at now I should hit 3 million words next year… That's pretty cool~

193 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Multiple times in the past 2 weeks I've had people say things along the lines of "but you probably have really specific ideas about what your characters look like" and "but you probably have really specific ideas about what your character sounds like" and the answer is no! I don't!! I have no clue!

I cannot visualize things for shit!

I cannot picture things in my head, be that actual visuals or audio or taste or anything else. I have almost complete aphantasia. Whatever I write down description-wise is usually pretty vague.

Whatever you think my characters look like or sound like based on whatever limited description I give, that's totally fine with me.

I just want to put it out there that like. I am a fantasy author who has a very, very poor ‘visual’ imagination, and that's fine. Almost always when I'm talking to people they think that I must be able to see like. Movies in my head or whatever and the truth is it's a blank fucking slate, that's all. I don't see anything. I don't hear anything. I make up everything with my best guess work.

That's also why I tend to use a lot of descriptions and metaphors that have to do with animals, because I'm very familiar with animal behavior, but I'm not very good at visualizing things so…comparing things to animals it is!

It is something that has a big impact on my life. I am really bad at directions because I can't visualize maps or routes in my head. I can't remember what people's voices sound like, I can't remember what their faces look like either, not until I've known them for really long time and have seen them frequently, I can't remember what things I've eaten taste like…so on and so on.

Just want to say that you can like. Really not have a single god damn clue, and still write just fine.

Don't feel like you have to think about your writing in a certain way, or that you have to provide a certain kind of stuff for other people. You do you, and they'll do them, and that's okay.

620 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #aww this is cute #great first year!

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

How could you do this babe?

In Breakable Heaven chapter one! Here we go!

Summary: Reader’s ready to celebrate her anniversary with her boyfriend, but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing, drunk people

Word Count: ~2100

“…leave a message at the beep.”

You couldn’t help but be disappointed that he didn’t answer, but didn’t mind leaving a message. “Hey babe, I was able to close the bookstore early! I should be to yours in the next few minutes if you want to celebrate early. I know you like to have ample time to get ready, so I guess I just wanted to warn you. Anyway, I love you. See you soon.” You left the voicemail as you walked to your car. Tonight you are celebrating your three-year anniversary. You even changed into your brand new lingerie to surprise him, wearing a long coat to hide it in public. It felt a little bit wrong not wearing real clothes, but you were determined to make this the best anniversary celebration yet.

The drive to his apartment was relatively uneventful. A light rain started about halfway through the five-minute drive. As you pull up to his apartment building, you notice the lights on in his room. “Good, he’s home” you think to yourself as you open the door, shuffling inside from the muggy DC weather. As you approach the apartment door, you can hear the soft music of the playlist you made last month featuring all of Taylor Swifts most romantic love songs. Your heart flutters as you think of the kind gesture. Of course, he would be thoughtful enough to put on music as you arrived at his apartment. Unlocking the door and untying your coat at the same time proved to more difficult than anticipated, but you managed to nudge the door open whispering “happy anniversary baby” in the sultriest tone you could.

As you took in the rest of the apartment, your heart burst. There were roses everywhere. Candles lit a path to the bedroom. Maybe he did know how to be a romantic. Dropping your things on the counter and sliding your coat off the rest of the way, you tip toed into the bedroom to surprise him since he clearly did not get your message. The next sixty seconds felt as though time stopped. Or, more accurately, you froze and everything else in the world took on an impossible speed.

As you pushed open the bedroom door, three things caught your attention. First, you felt a surprising amount of resistant as you pushed the door over a bundle of clothes you didn’t recognize. Second, you heard the bed bouncing against the wall. Third, you saw streaks of auburn hair running through you’re boyfriend’s hands as he mercilessly pounded into a woman you didn’t recognize.

Apparently, your entrance was too quiet for either of them to be interrupted. All you could manage was to slowly retreat into the living room, closing the door, but knocking into a side table. You could hear them as they stopped moving, running to the door to investigate the noise. All you wanted was to get out of there though. Throwing your coat back over your lingerie, you grabbed your purse and keys, slamming the door shut. You didn’t even turn around when you heard him opening the door and calling your name. Whatever he had to say was not worth your time anymore.

You couldn’t get the image of the two of them in bed together out of your head. You were feeling absolutely everything at once. You felt betrayed. You felt sad. A small part of you was actually glad you had a reason to end it. It had never felt like the kind of relationship that would move on. But still, you thought you were happy with him.

But mostly, you were pissed. Rightfully so, but you had no idea where to go or what to do. Your blind adrenaline carried you to the car, and you wound up at a bar. You don’t even remember starting the car, much less driving, but you knew you needed something to drink. You ran inside, ordering tequila shots to drown the sadness, and sat at the bar. As you sat at the bar, contemplating your existence, a man walked up to sit next to you. You had your fair share of practice with this scenario. You had mastered the right mix “fuck off” and “sorry, I’m taken” to get men like this guy to back off with just a single look. But right now, all you could manage was a halfhearted grin that very clearly said “you do not want to deal with my emotional baggage right now.” It was all in the crazed look in your eyes, you were sure of it.

Nobody else came up to you while you were there. You couldn’t help but think over the past three years with him for signs that he was unfaithful. You couldn’t come up with any, the cheating bastard. He must have been pretty good at hiding the secret phone calls and date nights. But then again, you had your own secrets. Not that they would have made him feel like you do right now.

After sitting long enough to consume four shots of tequila, two vodka sodas, and one dark and stormy, reality set in. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball and scream. Or cry. You were obviously not returning to his apartment, but you couldn’t go back to your own either. There was too much there that reminded you of him. The idea of walking in there to see his sweatshirt on your couch made you feel sick. You were teetering on the edge of a full breakdown when the idea struck you. Penelope.

Penelope Garcia is your best friend. You met her at a Doctor Who convention the same day you met he who must not be named. She was there with Kevin, but they broke up a while ago. The realization that you could go to Penny’s couldn’t have come at a better time. Ha. Penny. You only call her that when you’re drunk. She’ll know what to do. You opened your phone, barely able to call up the Lyft to take you to her apartment. It’s honestly shocking you didn’t fall asleep on the seven minute drive there. Whatever, all you needed now was to get inside and forget about him.

After entering the building, you tried the elevator. Of course it was broken. It took you about thirty six minutes to hobble your way up two flights of stairs to Penny’s floor. With each step, you considered texting her to come get you, but you knew the second you saw her you would break down. You absolutely did not want to start sobbing on these stairs. Too many people could see you. Finally arriving to her door, you were exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” Knock knock knock “Penny?” you imitated the Big Bang Theory, knowing the small joke would make you smile, even if just for a second. When the door finally opened, you vaulted in for a hug, not even opening your eyes.

As you squeezed Penny, you finally broke out into a fit of sobs. Whisper yelling, you told her as much of the story as you could remember. “Penny, thank god. I left wo-ork early to surprise Dr-Dr-Drew for our anniversary – hiccup – but he was having s-s-se-sex with someone else…” you let out a strangled sob, not noticing how stiff Penny felt in your embrace. You buried your head into her as you continued “So I got very drunk and came here. Was he cheating on me this whole time?” You asked as your tears turned back to rage. “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him” you shout as your coat had begun to fall open again. After what felt like an hour of crying, but in reality amounted to no more than 60 seconds, you finally noticed something was odd. Two things lead you to a simple conclusion that was somehow difficult to comprehend in your drunk state.

First, Penny felt taller. Second, she was wearing converse. Upon noticing these two facts, your hands traveled up the body you were hugging until you found shoulders. Turning your head up, your eyes followed the path your hands had just taken. This series of events lead to the obvious fact that whomever you were hugging was absolutely not Penelope Garcia. Penelope was in fact not even in the foyer, but rather a very attractive, tall man with slightly curly brown hair and eyes like honey was staring back at you. And you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

Reid’s POV

Spencer hadn’t actually had anything to drink since arriving at Garcia’s. No, he just drank prior to that point. Normally, he didn’t drink at all when his team got together, but this was just worth celebrating. Another serial killer was behind bars for life because of the work the team did today. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi stayed for a few hours before they left. As part of the “young crowd” on the team, he had stayed at the bar longer than the two older men before the group of you retreated to Garcia’s. Hers was the closest apartment, and everyone else wanted to keep the party going. Spencer couldn’t help but join them, not wanting to return to his empty apartment after the long day they all spent testifying.

Finishing his second glass of water, he began to get up to get more and maybe some for the group when everyone heard the knocking. The group laughed as three consecutive “Penny’s” came from the door. “Reid, can you get that since you’re already up?” Garcia asked, motioning toward the door. “It must be Y/N. She always calls me Penny when she’s drunk.” He obliged. He obviously remembered Garcia mentioning Y/N before, but he had never met her. He swung the door open, expecting a drunk friend of Garcia’s. He was not prepared, however, for said drunk friend to throw herself at him, grasp him in an alarmingly tight hug, and start sobbing. He could barely make out what you were saying through the sobs hearing “surprise Drew”, “anniversary”, “sex”, and “drunk” before you practically screamed “I even went out and bought this stupid, uncomfortable underwear to surprise him.”

It was clear you meant to be pouring her heart out to Garcia, but you hadn’t yet realized who answered the door. For the first time in his life, Dr. Spencer Reid couldn’t think of words to say as you ran your hands up his body to his shoulders. You were clearly taking in the information required to come to the conclusion that he is not in fact Penelope Garcia. As your eyes met his, all he could do was stare. He made every effort to keep his eyes level with yours, but one glace was all it took to be ingrained in his memory forever. He wouldn’t have looked, but the movement of your coat caught his eye as it revealed the exact type of surprise you had planned for whoever Drew was.

The two of you were frozen, unsure of how to proceed. You looked just like he did- a deer in the headlights. Neither of you could move. Neither of you could speak. You could both hear Garcia’s voice as she stumbled down the hallway, but it sounded distant. It wasn’t until the mystery woman broke eye contact that he backed away. Trying desperately to control the blush he were sure had made its way to his cheeks.

Y/N’s POV

The moment was broken as you felt Penny turn you towards her. The flush on your cheeks only grew as you kept your eyes on the tall man as he retreated into the living room, not having said a word. “Y/N… Y/N? Y/N!” Penny had to yell slightly to get your attention. “What happened? What are you doing here? I thought you were celebrating tonight?” She asked rapid fire. You could tell she was also a little bit drunk.

You told her everything. The words practically falling out of you as you started crying again. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you inside.” Penny started to guide you into the living room, but you froze “Wait! Can I borrow some clothes before I go in there? I don’t need to flash anyone else right now.” You whispered. Penny laughed, “Of course! Who did you fla- ohhh. Reid.” She said, trying to hold back the giggles.

“Yes. If that is the very tall man with the perfect eyes and the completely tuggable hair.” You responded, not quite filtering your thoughts, as you were still very drunk.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy!” Penny replied, not knowing how else to respond to the fact that you are very clearly attracted to the young doctor, but also going through shit right now. She would just file away this information for later.

taglist:

@mac99martin

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 3 years

Text

Day 22: Yellow

John Harrington stood in the foyer of his house in Loch Nora, brow furrowed. It was the first time in his life that he had come home to find the house looking so...occupied. And sure, he and Irene hadn’t mentioned that they were coming back to Hawkins because it had been so last minute, but even so, Steve usually did a better job keeping it looking tidy. He was expected to do a better job.

John moved further into the house, noting new details. Steve’s sneakers were in the front hallway, alongside a pair of heavy boots, and every hook on the coat rack was filled. John saw two leather jackets that he was sure didn’t belong to Steve and a denim jacket covered in patches that he also didn’t recognize. The coffee table in the living room was covered in books and papers, and there was a stack of dirty plates in the sink. John set his bags down and glanced over at Irene, but she seemed as bemused as he was.

The basement door stood open, and they followed a heavy clank of metal on metal down the stairs. John stopped dead at the bottom, taking in the scene. All the furniture in the room was pushed up against the walls to create an open space in the center, where Steve was on his back on a weight bench. He was breathing heavily as he pressed up a bar with what seemed like a significant amount of weight on it. Another boy, blond and built like he knew exactly what he was doing with a set of weights, was spotting him. Steve finished a rep with clear effort and set the bar back on the rack. John glanced over at Irene, who had a little smile on her face. He frowned; she had always been too lenient with their son.

“Ugh,” Steve said, “I thought I would be able to do more reps.” The blond smirked down at him.

“You gotta be patient, pretty boy.” He flexed a bicep and turned to kiss it. “You don’t get results like these overnight.” Steve rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh.

“Steven?” John said, and the effect was immediate. Steve’s head whipped around and he started to quickly sit up. The other boy threw a protective hand between Steve’s forehead and the bar, preventing what probably would have been a painful collision. Steve didn’t take his gaze off of John as he ducked past the bar and sat up. The boy let his hand drop back to his side, but he took a step closer to Steve.

“Mom, Dad,” Steve said, standing up. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Clearly,” John said, waving a hand at the stairs behind him. Steve flushed a little and his brows drew down. John opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but Irene’s hand was suddenly at his elbow, gently pulling him back toward the stairs. He glowered at her, but her eyes were on Steve and the other boy.

“We’ll need to unpack and freshen up,” she said calmly, glancing at her watch. “Dinner will be served at seven.” She looked back up. “I assume you boys will have no trouble being ready by then?” The two of them exchanged a quick, wordless glance that appeared to contain an entire conversation.

“No problem, Mom,” Steve said. “We can be ready.”

“Lovely,” Irene said with a smile, and then she steered John back upstairs. They picked up their bags in the foyer and John followed Irene to the second floor. He was thinking about the argument he was about to have with his wife about her intervention, but he stopped dead at the door to Steve’s room. His jaw dropped as he pushed the door open wider.

“Are you seeing this?” he demanded. Irene nodded slowly as she took in the room. The plaid wallpaper was gone. Instead, three of the walls were a cool grey color. The fourth wall, opposite Steve’s bed, was a bright, cheerful yellow. “Did you approve this?” John asked Irene, who had that small smile on her face again.

“I would have,” she said, “but he didn’t ask.” John shook his head. “Unbelievable.” Steve was behaving as though the house belonged to him. Whoever the other boy was, he was clearly a bad influence.

“What the hell was that, downstairs?” John demanded of Irene as soon as the door to the master suite closed behind them.

“Exactly what I looked like, I expect,” she said serenely, opening her suitcase and pulling out her toiletry bag.

“You know what I meant. I’m not sure why you intervened. He owes us an explanation,” John said.

“And he can provide one over dinner, if you absolutely insist,” she replied.

“And since when does Steve lift weights?” he demanded, irritated all over again that he had come home to a house that had changed, and a son who hadn’t yet apologized for it.

“Oh, I imagine those came with the boy,” Irene said with that same little smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You better believe that I will be talking to Steven about that situation. His friend seems far too at home in this house. It’s probably his fault everything is in disarray.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?” Irene asked absently. She was facing away from him, looking into the vanity mirror as she removed her makeup.

“No, I don’t,” he said stubbornly. “The boy painted his room without consulting us, and the basement is barely usable.”

“I don’t see why that matters. You only ever spend time in your office when we’re here.” There was a pause.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” John finally said.

“Hmm,” was all Irene said in response.

“I don’t see why you included that boy in our dinner plans. Steven should have sent him home as soon as we arrived.” Irene stopped what she was doing and turned to face her husband. Her expression was amused.

“Darling,” she said patiently, and John knew she was growing irritated with him. She hadn’t called him that sincerely in a very long time. “You’re a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. There are three additional coats on the coat rack, and it’s sixty-eight degrees outside, so he didn't wear all of them over here today. Additionally, there isn’t a teenager in the world who brings every single one of his textbooks over for a study date, and most of those books were for classes that Steve isn’t even taking.” John frowned at that. He hadn’t noticed that because he didn’t know what classes Steve was taking. He was a little surprised that Irene did. She continued. “And that weight bench, as we both know, isn’t Steve’s. That boy is living here, and probably has been for a while.” She intentionally did not mention the thick Stephen King book and the pair of reading glasses John obviously hadn’t noticed on the second nightstand in Steve’s room. Horror had never been Steve’s preferred genre, and he didn’t wear glasses.

“Well, I’m putting a stop to it,” John announced. Irene stared at him for a long moment, eyes going a little hard, though her smile stayed in place.

“We’re here for three days,” she said. “How exactly are you planning to control what Steve does after we leave?”

“I’ll threaten to cut him off. That should communicate the seriousness of the situation.” Irene stared for a beat and then turned back around to continue removing her makeup.

“You’ll do no such thing,” she corrected calmly.

“I’ll do as I see fit,” he shot back. She nodded to herself and set down the cloth in her hand. Then she turned around again, standing up to face him.

“Have you forgotten who you’re dealing with?” she asked, voice low. She hadn’t bothered to raise her voice at him in years. “Because you seem to be under the mistaken impression that I’m one of the sycophants you insist on surrounding yourself with.” She took a step toward him. “Here’s what you’re actually going to do. You’re going to unpack and freshen up. You’re going to go do whatever it is you do in your office until it’s time for dinner, and then you’re going to come eat. You’re going to be polite to our son and his friend.” John raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t see any reason why I should allow you to dictate my behavior,” he said, his tone condescending. Her answering smile was sharp.

“You actually don’t know, do you?” she murmured, shaking her head. “Steve turned eighteen two months ago. I do hope your assistant remembered to send a gift.” She saw the significance of it land. John swallowed. “Just so that we’re on the same page,” she continued, “if you decide that it is a good idea to berate or threaten our son, who is an adult, or his friend, you will very quickly find yourself in the middle of some probably very contentious divorce proceedings.” John glared at her.

“You wouldn’t,” he said confidently. “Your reputation stands to suffer as much as mine does.”

“I don’t care,” she said bluntly. “It’s been years since I cared what anyone in Hawkins thinks of me. The only thing you had to hold over my head was custody, and now that our son is an adult, your leverage is gone.”

“You cannot—“ he started to say, but she took a step closer and cut him off.

“We have an arrangement," she said, "and it's working. I get the freedom to live as I please most of the time, and you get the image of a perfect family on the rare occasions that you need it. It would be a shame to disrupt it simply because you are incapable of keeping your disapproval to yourself for three days.” John fumed, but he also backed down. He knew defeat when he heard it. He stalked off to the closet to change without further comment, unreasonably annoyed by the way Irene hummed to herself while she sat back down to finish removing her makeup. It wasn’t until later that he realized she had been humming Handel’s “Hail the Conquering Hero.”

An hour later, Irene had freshened up and was on her way down to the kitchen to start dinner. She stopped when she heard Steve’s hushed voice coming from the living room.

“Billy, I’m serious!” Then Steve gasped as if he had just realized something and groaned. “Oh my god, they probably saw my room.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“They should be thanking us for that, baby. The plaid wallpaper was a crime.”

“You don’t understand. My dad is going to—“ Steve stopped. “Hey, B, no,” he said in a softer voice. “Not like that. He’s not…I’m sorry. Come here.” Irene turned around and made her way silently back up the stairs, wanting to give her son and the boy he was obviously dating the time they deserved to finish their conversation. Dinner could wait.

Irene smiled to herself as she thought about how delighted Annette would be to learn that Steve had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who was right about the plaid wallpaper—it had been John’s idea, after he saw it in a magazine somewhere. The yellow was a vast improvement. Maybe the bedroom in her apartment in Paris could use an accent wall, Irene mused. She couldn’t wait to get back there, as soon as their weekend of pretending to be a happily married couple was over.

Your reputation stands to suffer, John had said, and he wasn’t wrong. The people of Hawkins would absolutely frown on her lifestyle, her life in Paris with her beloved Annette. But it certainly looked like that revelation wasn’t going to bother her son at all, and if Steve didn’t mind, Irene truly couldn’t care less if other people did. She smiled to herself again. When John finally figured it out, he was going to be furious, and there wasn't going to be a damn thing he could do about it. She found that thought immensely satisfying.

#Harringrove April Challenge #my writing #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #Steve Harrington's parents #this is mostly fluff?

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