#it's rare that they prank each other

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Caught In His Web

Yandere Male Drider x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, painless/gentle noncon, venom, drugging, biting, light bondage, webbing, drider, spider-hybrid, oral sex, oviposition, dead animals wrapped in webbing, stalking, underwear sniffing, general yandere behavior. Word Count: 2.7k (A drider is technically an elf-spider formed as a punishment by Lolth, but this is just a human-spider hybrid with magic. Not technically a drider. But "spidertaur" just sounds off. Hope you enjoy, this was technically the first fic I started though I only resumed and finished it today)

You were an herbalist, you took plants and herbs from the wild fields, forests, and hills surrounding your small humble cottage. You expertly prepared the ingredients that you gathered and imbued them with the tiny bit of healing magic that you possessed. Magic in humans was very rare and your abilities and magical education were somewhat limited, but your potions, salves, ointments and remedies sold well enough in the town about six miles away on the other side of the forest.

Twice a month you made the journey there and back to sell your healing supplies. You made enough to survive on, and also enough to get you through the colder months when the healing plants you used did not grow. It was a modest life, but you were happy enough. Well, except for one thing... you were being followed...

At first, starting almost a year ago, you couldn’t get past the feeling that you were being watched from the shadows of the forest, occasionally you could swear you could catch glimpses of a large shape moving out of the corner of your eye or could hear something moving through the branches. You convinced yourself it was all in your imagination, or at least just some innocent woodland creature moving in the woods. For a month or so your denial was easy enough. You live by the forest, of course the animals must simply be getting more used to your non-threatening presence and getting a bit closer than they had previously. Everything was perfectly fine.

But then, about three months ago, things started to escalate. At first it was odd, but still explainable by the functions of nature. There were bundled up small dead animals bound in webbing left around in the places you most frequently gathered herbs and flowers. Okay, that is creepy, it must be some large spiders that are attracted to the birds and mice that are attracted to the insects drawn by the plants, perfectly normal and natural. You wish it would be perfectly normal and natural a bit farther away from you, but there was clearly nothing to worry about... except the fact that there are apparently a lot of spiders big enough to kill birds and mice in close proximity to you...

You could have dealt with the creepy large webs and the implied but unseen giant spiders, but then just a few days ago the bundles started being left on your porch for you to dispose of each morning. The webbed up animals were completely un-dessicated, killed and then just… left… A spider would not drop food for later in such an odd place. And what’s more the webbing now contained flowers woven into it, the flowers you most commonly used in your trade. No longer could you maintain any notions that the glimpses you saw from the forest, the noises you heard, and the web bundles were just coincidence.

The nearest humans lived too far away to keep up such a well maintained and menacing prank/threat, so you conclude that there must be some foul creature or malicious spirit that is stalking you. The past few days you were terrified and on the verge of freaking out, but you managed to maintain your calm composure. Besides, it has not escalated since then and today was the day that you went to the closest village to peddle your medical supplies, perhaps you could purchase some wards to protect yourself from spirits and talk to the local trappers, hunters, and elders to see if they know of anything dangerous lurking in the area.

You opened the door with a broom to sweep your doorstep, where you knew the web ball would be left. You shuddered as you swept it into the bushes and out of sight. So gross. You then went about your daily chores, and put the final touches on a last minute tincture. You put all your various vials, bottles, and other containers full of your merchandise into a large backpack that you put on before setting off on your way out the door and into the long path through the woods that would lead you to the village.

You started off at a brisk pace, there was no time to enjoy what would otherwise be a pleasant and leisurely stroll on a cool breezy day. You gripped the handle of the dagger in your belt tightly, in constant fear of what could potentially lurk just out of sight. You were paranoid and hyper fixated on watching the trees and path ahead for any possible signs of danger. So fixated that you completely neglected to watch where you were going. You did not notice a large bump in the path and tripped, you tried to get up but your ankle was sprained and you ended up flopping back over on your side.

This was bad, you were probably at least two miles into the forest unable to walk. Utterly helpless, with no more than a small dagger that in your inexperienced hands was mostly just for a false sense of security. But you couldn’t just lay here, you turned back towards the direction of your home and started ever so slowly dragging yourself.

You tried to do this as quietly as possible to not draw any attention to yourself, but you heard skittering and rustling in the bushes ahead of you.

Futilely, you hoped that it was just an animal or even the wind, but it wasn’t The being that had been lurking in the shadows and stoking your fears finally came forth.

A large drider came out of the trees. Like a centaur he was a creature that was human enough from the waist up but instead of a horse below that he was a giant white spider with black markings. From far enough away, and if the spider half were not in view, he could have easily been mistaken for a striking woman. His figure was slender and his hair was long and shimmered beautifully like silver in the rays of light that penetrated through the forest canopy.

But that is where the illusion ended for he had two fangs and four red eyes. He spoke in a cautious voice, as if trying to placate an animal that he feared may lash out.

“I’m Umzerth. I won’t hurt you, I promise.

You looked at him, trembling in dread and unable to take your eyes away as you scrambled backwards.

“Please no.” You repeated desperately in a frantic whisper.

The drider looked both concerned at your predicament and hurt by your reaction at seeing him.

“Please… darling… you’re hurt… just let me help you…”

“No, j-just stay back…”

“But your leg needs tending to my sweetling, I’ve never hurt you. I have proven I can take care of you by giving you all those plants you like. And food with them!”

“I am not interested in you taking care of me! Please just leave me alone… I have healing supplies with me…” Your voice faltered and it was clear that you were terrified of him.

Umzerth looked dejected, but he wasn’t going to give up. This was the first time he had properly met you and you were in pain. Surely you would accept him as your mate. He was so powerful and could take care of you. That’s what little humans wanted in a mate surely. He just had to calm you down and prove it.

The spider took a few tentative steps closer. You pulled your dagger from your belt and pointed it towards him. Your hand shook, more evidence of the fear coursing through you. He knew you’d never hold such a weapon to him if you were in your right mind. Maybe some of his venom would soothe you.

“Please put that away and let me help you sweetheart, my home is very close by. Your healing salves won’t work as fast as my methods will.”

You backed away a bit more, still holding up the dagger.

“I’ll take my chances.”

He moved with lightning speed and plucked the dagger from your hand, tossing it far away and out of sight. He spoke more forcefully.

“It would still take days to heal that foot. I can see the bruising from here. There are wild animals everywhere and I am not going to my beloved die out here because they were too damn stubborn.”

You cry out briefly as he bit down on your neck before an unnatural calm took your mind and your body went limp before fading into a relaxed sleep. His venom wasn’t at all deadly, not to humans, spiders, or driders. For a human it would merely give them a nice sleep. Which is exactly what you needed while he attended to your injury.

As you began stirring from your sleep you heard your name whispered. You woke to find your leg completely free of any pain, wrapped in silvery webbing. You could feel the thrum of magic within it. Much stronger than anything you could manage. Well… at least that proved he really wasn’t going to kill you.

“Are you feeling better, my little wild flower? I watched to make sure you slept well… I did take a break to catch you some food.”

The room you were in was unfamiliar, it looked to be a dwelling carved into stone. Likely at the base of the hills nearby. You were in a soft hammock made of silk. There was a wooden table next to you. Hand-carved. Umzerth apparently had grown accustomed to making his own furniture. Atop it lay a dead rat covered in webbing.

You recoiled at the sight.

“What’s wrong sweetling, it’s all predigested! You just have to bite and suck it out… don’t you like it?”

You didn’t say anything, but hopped up and bolted towards the exit. The ground was rough and cold on your bare feet, but you gave it no notice. You had to get away from this freak.

Umzerth caught you before you even reached the door.

“Let me go! I want to go home! Please!” You began sobbing and begging. Even if you were in no immediate danger he still frightened you. Thrust into a strange place with a terrifying creature and expected to eat… that… It was all too much.

“You ARE home my sweet flower!”

He caressed you oh so tenderly and claimed your lips with his own before setting you down on a cushioned chair that was far too small for him. Evidently he had prepared for your arrival for quite some time. Utterly disgusted with having been kissed by the monster, you wiped your lips.

“Are you upset with the food? Do humans not like that? I can learn to prepare human foods for you…”

He paced back and forth for a while with a nervous expression on his face, he wanted to make you happy and it was clear that you weren’t. How could he please you? He’d learn how to do that cooking thing he had watched humans do, but how could he make you like him more immediately?

Other than food that was to your liking hadn’t he provided everything a mate should? Shelter. Medical treatment.

Oh of course!

Sex!

You were being a whiny little human because you probably were desperate to copulate! He knew you were single since he had never seen another person at your dwelling, you probably hadn’t had a good dick like his in you in a long time, if ever.

You’d probably be all shy and bratty about it though. Natural first time jitters. He knew what would calm you down.

He scooped you up from the chair and, despite your struggles, gave your neck a little nip. Just a fraction of a full dose. You went limp again, but didn’t fall asleep this time. Your limbs felt too heavy and you felt really relaxed. You couldn’t muster the energy or will to fight anymore.

Umzerth gently placed you on a high stone shelf so that he was eye level with your crotch.

“I know just what you need to make you happy sweetling~”

You only groaned absently in response.

The drider gently peeled off your pants and underwear, taking it to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before placing it aside. The smell had him aroused in an instant. His erect cock poked out of a slit at his waist just below where his two halves met. Big and somewhat slimy.

He rubbed your soft thighs.

“Such a soft fragile thing.” He whispered.

He kissed up your thighs, occasionally giving them a careful nip, not enough to draw blood. He attended to you with a sloppy tongue and beneath the effects of his venom all you could feel was pleasure. You grinded into his face as you weakly stroked his hair, grabbing it harder when he brought you to climax.

He licked you clean as you shuddered.

“Ah, you fed me so well for worshiping at the altar between your thighs~”

You were even more relaxed now than when he had just bitten you, and just as powerless to resist. The spider picked you up carefully and shared another dominating kiss with you. This time sliding his tongue and brushing it against yours, smearing your taste buds with your very own flavor mixed with his saliva. A string of which connected your lips for a moment as he pulled away.

Then he held you as he positioned your body in front of his cock.

“Oh sweetling, you’ll look even prettier with a bellyful of my eggs~”

His words elicited just the smallest spark of worry in your envenomated mind, though it was quickly squashed when you felt his cock smear warm pre at your entrance. While holding you with one strong hand he slipped a finger in and out of you, slowly adding more one at a time.

Drooling and unable to articulate any thoughts, you moved back against his fingers.

At that he decided you were ready. He slipped his wet cock into you easily and with no pain at all, he had been very careful to make sure he pleasured his delicate flower.

He held you by your hips, gently rocking you back and forth along his shaft. You occasionally moaned softly. It felt so nice. So perfect. Like you were made just for this. Why had you been resisting again?

Umzerth started to go just a little harder, sure that his love could take it. With each thrust you let out a little gasp of pleasure. His cock fit itself into you beautifully, hitting every inch and making you feel full and sated in a way you never had before.

The fill of your shivering body as you had another climax pulled Umzerth over the edge with you. Powerful shudders racking the both of you in unison as his cock deposited small eggs deep inside you. Soft yet firm, they attached themselves to your insides. They would fertilize as they absorbed a bit of your DNA, then they’d fall out after a few days and then hatch a few weeks later.

Having deposited so many inside of his darling, your belly looked larger. He lay you in his web with him in the corner, rubbing your belly in awe. You smiled up at him and idly played with his soft hair.

“I’ll be back soon my love, I am going to get you something to eat.”

He wrapped you up in his webbing to keep you cozy before giving you a bit more venom to send you off into a short sleep. Then he covered the entrance to his den with his strongest webbing to make sure that you were completely safe while he was away. By the time you awoke he would have a good meal fit for any human. Then you would have nothing at all to be grumpy about.

This time he’d swipe a meal from the village, of course he’d leave them a gold coin in compensation since humans seemed to like those, and after that you could teach him!

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #my ocs #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere spidertaur #spidertaur x reader #yandere drider #drider x reader #My OCs #My OC Umzerth #yandere #male yandere

[eccentricwritingbaby]

funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

-

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass. 

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry. 

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you. 

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,” 

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

-

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum. 

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier. 

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom. 

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck. 

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself. 

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a… 

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further. 

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’. 

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze. 

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge. 

-

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it. 

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls. 

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband. 

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided. 

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin. 

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries. 

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him. 

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’. 

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him. 

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement. 

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs. 

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage. 

-

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction. 

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts. 

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle. 

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh. 

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart. 

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you. 

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #ln4 #carlos sainz jr x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz jr fanfic #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris #carlos sainz jr smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz jr x wife!reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr #scuderia ferrari #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x oc #f1 fluff #charlos #cs55 fluff

[bratzforchris]

Prank, C. Sturniolo

Summary: When pranking Chris and having a smart mouth gets you in trouble, you see just how far he's willing to go to get your attitude in check

Pairing: Brat tamer!Chris x feminine reader

Warnings: HEAVY smut, dom/sub dynamics, brat tamer!Chris, reader being the biggest brat in LA, overstimulation, spanking, vibrator usage (partnered), spitting, p in v, rough sex, degradation/teasing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Save me brat tamer!Chris...brat tamer!Chris save me. In all seriousness though, this is fiction!! Thank you for reading and enjoy some smut ;)

Sunlight filtered through the white, linen curtains of your and Chris’s shared room, slowly bringing you to life after a wonderful night’s sleep. You blinked open your eyes, realizing you were still tightly wrapped in Chris’s arms, both of you naked and tangled in each other’s embrace. Last night hadn’t even been sexual, which was a rather rare occurrence. Sometimes, you both simply enjoyed the feeling of each other’s skin. You couldn’t say that you minded the hold, though. Your boyfriend’s bare chest was soft against your back as he snored quietly, cheeks red with pillow marks and fluffy brown hair fanned out across the sheets. 

You smiled at the angelic sight, running your thumb softly across his cheek before craning your neck to see what time it was. It had to be later than you thought; you were far too well-rested for it to be any earlier than ten am. Sure enough, the clock on Chris’s nightstand had just flicked to 10:15. You knew he had quite the busy day today with running errands for upcoming videos and meeting, so you began to softly scratch your acrylic nails across his scalp in a gentle attempt to wake your lover. 

“Chris, it’s time to wake up, baby.” You whispered softly, feeling smooth, brown curls slip through your fingers. 

Chris groaned, rolling over and stretching. The white sheets were a stark contrast against his tanned skin as yawned and pulled you closer to himself, speaking huskily in your ear. “Gimme five more minutes. What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up.” You sassed back, a cute little smirk on your face. 

“Mmmm, you better watch that smart fuckin’ mouth, baby doll.” Chris mumbled, morning voice gravelly against your skin as he kissed your neck. 

You whined as his lips pressed against your skin, warm and plump. “You know you love my mouth. I seem to recall you saying ‘Oh baby, that feels so good…love your mouth on my cock.’ the other night.” You snorted. 

Chris rolled his eyes, finally letting you go. “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble one day, you know that?” he asked, pinching your bare ass rather roughly as he sat up.

You yelped cutely, tackling Chris against the bed and peppering his cheeks with kisses. “I know. But until then, enjoy it.”

Your boyfriend kissed you back roughly, before setting you back on the bed and standing up, pulling on a pair of gray sweatpants. “I’m going to shower. Get cute while I’m gone.” he winked, tugging on the end of your hair gently. 

You watched as Chris disappeared into the bathroom, humming to himself. You absolutely loved to mess with Chris, enjoying the way his normally bright, blue eyes would darken with lust and the way you could practically get off without him touching you on his rough words and mannerisms. You looked around the bedroom, thinking of ways you could get back at him for that little ‘smart mouth’ comment earlier. An idea dawned on you when you saw your pile of pink, girly clothes laying on the chair in the corner. You had recently cleaned out your storage bin from under the bed, exchanging your winter clothes for summer clothes. Sure enough, you hopped off the bed and peered under the frame, only to see that the space was completely empty. Enough so that you could definitely get under the mattress if you tried. 

You quickly pulled on the silky, white sleep camisole and shorts that you had abandoned at the foot of the bed last night so that the carpet wouldn’t burn your skin. Getting down on all fours, you easily slid under the bed, giggling to yourself as your hair fanned out across the carpet. A while back, Chris had stated in a podcast episode that his most irrational fear was that something was under his bed and would grab his ankles. You had laughed the information off at first, but now seemed like the perfect time to recall it. 

A few minutes later, you heard the shower shut off and tried to suppress your giggles. This wouldn’t work if Chris heard you. You waited until you heard the bathroom door open to extend your arms, ready to pounce. Sure enough, Chris padded into your bedroom and over to his nightstand to grab his everyday accessories of his chain and earrings. You waited to be sure he hadn’t heard you, before lunging your arms out, grabbing his ankles, and screaming “RAHHHH.”

The yelp Chris let out was akin to that of a four-year-old girl. Your boyfriend practically jumped straight in the air, before shaking you off his ankles and roughly pulling you out from under the bed. “What the fuck was that for?” he asked harshly. 

“Gotcha.” You grinned from ear-to-ear as Chris finally pulled you all the way out from under the bed. 

“That wasn’t fucking funny!” Chris protested, but you could see a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he looked you up and down. 

“Was so.”

“Was not.”

“Was so.” You giggled, poking his stomach with your pointer finger. 

Maybe it was the comment from earlier, or maybe you were just in the mood to fuck with your dom, but either way, you were getting a rise out of messing with Chris. Bratting was probably one of your favorite things; you loved to push his buttons, seeing just how much you could get away with before he would snap and fuck you into next year. 

“What’s gotten into you this morning, huh?” Chris asked, raising his brow as he moved to the dresser and pulled on his clothes for the day.

“What’s gotten into you?” You retorted. “That scream sure didn’t sound like a grown man. It sounded like my little cousin…she’s three.”

“You better watch that mouth.” he hummed. 

“You watch it. I can’t see my mouth.” You giggled, eagerly awaiting Chris’s reaction. 

The flip was like a light switch. Your boyfriend’s mood had seemed heavy, though teasing. But now, Chris whipped around, stalking towards the bed. “What did you say?” he asked, voice dangerously low. 

“I said you watch my mouth. I can’t see it.” You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest as a pout decorated your lips. 

“I swear to God…” he chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Strip. Now.”

“No.”

“You strip now or I edge that little cunt so hard you’re gonna wish you never would’ve spoken at all.” Chris stared down at you with stone cold features. 

You slowly looked down at your knees, beginning to strip with a fake aire of humiliation. You were more excited to see what your punishment would be, but you knew that Chris would definitely deny your orgasm if you acted happy about it. Once you had removed all your clothes, you kneeled on the bed, pouting up at him. “This isn’t fair.”

“Sweetheart,” Chris hummed, grabbing your chin roughly. “Considering how you’ve been acting this morning, this is very fair. Now, open,” Your boyfriend gathered just enough of his own saliva to spit in your mouth, holding your chin closed once he had done so. “Let’s see if that fixes that bratty little mouth.”

You smiled as the taste of him consumed you, lighting your nerves with passion and excitement. You waited patiently to see what Chris would do, but his lack of instruction was beginning to make you nervous for what he had in store. Your boyfriend smiled sadistically, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a toy you were all too familiar with. It was a small, pink vibrator that went up to settings so immense they could practically make you cum in seconds. 

Chris sat down on the bed, patting his sweatpants covered lap. “On my lap.”

You blushed, crawling across the sheets and laying yourself across his lap, ass up. You felt Chris’s warm, large hands caressing your backside as they slowly made their way between your thighs, spreading your legs further and further apart. Your boyfriend chuckled as he ran a finger along your damp slit, feeling the way you were already soaking, just from the thoughts of him and what he would do to you. 

The last thing you could comprehend before you were seeing stars was the sound of the toy flicking on, buzzing lightly. Chris held the vibrator against your clit as he stroked your folds, chuckling at the little squeals and whimpers that were already escaping your mouth as you buried your face in his thigh.

“Does that feel good, princess?” he cooed in an almost sickeningly sweet way as he turned the intensity up a notch. “Your pretty pussy gettin’ all wet from being punished?”

You could hardly let out anything more than a little whine, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming sensations from the toy and Chris’s fingers working gracefully. “Mhm…uh uh.”

“Awww, what happened to that sass, ma? Cat got your tongue?” he pouted, turning the vibrator up again as he shoved your legs further apart on his lap. 

You whimpered and panted, digging your almond-shaped nails into his leg. “Oh…oh god. Chris, Chris–I need to…” You were a senseless mess as you began to sob, your thighs slick with arousal. 

“You need to what? Use your words, baby doll.” Your boyfriend sneered. 

“Need to cum,” You wailed, shoving your face against his leg and gripping his thigh. Your orgasm had been building in your stomach for a while now, the white-hot energy threatening to push you over the edge. “P…please.”

Chris landed a stinging smack to your ass as he edged you harder before finally speaking. “Go ahead, princess. Cum all over my lap and show me how much you appreciate me treating you like the whore you are.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let go, your climax washing over you as you came all over the vibrator and Chris’s fingers. Fat tears rolled down your face, simply from feeling soi overstimulated, yet so good. Your boyfriend rubbed your back gently, dropping his rough dom façade as he coached you through your high. Once you had caught your breath, Chris  flipped you over so that you were laying on your back on his lap, looking up at him. 

“You’re going again,” he smiled, almost sadistically. “Gotta make sure that little attitude is properly fucked out.”

Chris tossed you onto the bed roughly, before leaning over and grabbing a condom from his nightstand. In a quick amount of time, he had yanked off his sweatpants and hoodie and rolled the condom onto his throbbing cock. You smiled up at him with doe eyes, wanting to comment, but choosing your physical pleasure over the pleasure of mouthing off. 

“You ready, ma?” he asked, lining himself up with you. 

You didn’t get another chance to speak as he slammed into you immediately, filling you completely. You let out a moan at the feeling of suddenly being full, Chris stretching you to the max. Just like when he had been using the toy on you, your boyfriend was fucking rough. He bucked his hips into you, going harder with each thrust as he pinned your arms to the bed. You were always more sensitive on your second orgasm than on your first, and your stomach was already clenching with the need for release. 

“Gonna…” You whimpered. “Need to cum again.”

Chris ignored you, pounding into you relentlessly. If your head wasn’t hazy with lust, you’d be thanking the universe that Nick was a heavy sleeper and Matt slept with ear plugs, because the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was ricocheting through the room. You could tell that your boyfriend was getting closer to his own climax as he threw his head back with a groan, riding you mercilessly. This was by far one of the best punishments he had ever given you, making you so dizzy with arousal that you couldn’t even think straight to brat. 

“Oh god, baby,” Chris groaned, throwing his head back as he came, filling the condom. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whined and writhed beneath him, arching your back as your lower stomach ached with the need to cum. The feeling of Chris being buried fully inside of you wasn’t helping, either. “Need to cum, please.” You whimpered, on the verge of tears again from the good feelings. 

Chris adjusted himself, still fucking you despite having already came. “Say ‘I’m a little cockslut who can’t control her mouth’ and then maybe I’ll let you.” he shrugged.

You sobbed, fighting the urge to just release. “I–I’m a little…Chris, please.”

“Gotta hear you say the full thing, ma.” he chuckled, riding you in a slower, more sensual rhythm, which just increased the tingling in your nerves. 

“I’m a little cockslut who can’t control her mouth.” You wailed. 

“Good girl.” Chris kissed your forehead as you came, your body writhing with the intensity of your climax. 

You were beyond fucked out by the time Chris pulled out, tying the condom up and throwing it away. Your boyfriend grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, using it to dry your tears as you caught your breath. The rough dom he had been for the scene had completely disappeared, replacing him with the loving, gentle boyfriend he always was. Chris dried your tears, handing you a water bottle. 

“You did so good.” he whispered gently, caressing your cheek as he held the bottle to your lips. 

You smiled softly, eyes glazed over. “I promise I won’t mouth off anymore.”

“I doubt that’s a promise you can keep, baby girl.” Chirs chuckled, massaging over your shoulders and back lightly with a sweet-smelling lotion. 

You pulled him into you as your boyfriend pulled the comforter over your naked bodies. “Mhm. ‘M really tired.”

“You need to rest, ma,” Chris kissed your cheek, pulling you into his body to spoon. “Being a little brat is hard work, huh?”

You nodded with a gentle giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you more, ma. I can promise you that.”

“That prank was hilarious, though.”

“Don’t push your limits, princess.” Chris hummed. 

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @ilovejohnnieg @lovingchrissposts @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @dumpling-to-eat @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @strnlvr @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence

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#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets

[missroki]

SNEAKY AS A SPIDER┊gojo satoru is one of your closest and oldest friends, but recently he’s been acting strange. he’s unreliable, flaky. will say one thing and do another. after your science internship starts, you decide it's time to call him out on his behavior. it’s just your luck that it turns out he’s the most wanted vigilante in the city.

content: friends to lovers, mutual pining, female!reader x spider-man!gojo, public sex, reader is nicknamed bee, holding you with one arm, fingering, creampie, reader wears glasses, reader called pretty and baby, depictions of violence and injury, accidental manhandling, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected, he breaks the headboard. all lowercase. word count: 10k

satoru has been acting… weird, lately. and it’s not his usual weird; the way he always wears tinted glasses regardless of setting, his intense obsession with anything sweet, the way he talks as if he’s constantly on camera. no, in the three years you’ve been friends, satoru has always been that way.

he’s a little different from the rest of the friend group, the words you’d typically use to describe him were annoying, loud, and maybe even quirky if you wanted to really piss him off. thing is, flaky was never a part of that list until recently and it felt as if gojo satoru was rarely ever around anymore.

ever since your college internship started, you’ve seen your friend less and less. this was unusual especially because you were normally attached at the hip — the “hip” being suguru as you two argued over the last slice of pizza. if you were to ask anyone else in the friend group, there was definitely a ‘will they won’t they’ situation going on, but regardless of your feelings towards each other he was always there. a constant.

nowadays he cancels plans at a moment's notice, one time leaving before you’d even grabbed a table with your friends. 

you started paying more attention after that.

as you caught on to his patterns, it was hard for you not to notice that he conveniently disappeared as soon as things started going wrong in the city. at first you thought he was just trying to avoid danger, leaving at the first sound of more than one police siren in quick succession. it wouldn’t surprise you if the loud mouth was all talk.

you’ll never forget the day when the two of you almost got crushed during a villain’s concrete throwing rampage — only to be suddenly saved by the infamous red and blue vigilante that swings through the sky.

spider-man, they’re calling him. a masked hero running through the streets and taking down anyone that dared to live a life of crime. BOOM! POW! CRASH! WHAM! are the only sounds you hear when that guy’s around. that fateful day was the first time you ever made direct contact with him, and when you heard him speak — you knew.

you’ve heard satoru’s shitty attempts at prank calls enough to know that badly deepened voice anywhere.

so here you stand, on a rooftop in manhattan, watching as he clumsily tries to change into his civilian clothing. he hasn’t noticed you quite yet, tripping over his sweats as he tries to shimmy them on while hopping on one leg. he falls unceremoniously on the ground, rubbing his left ass cheek as it meets the concrete.

“need some help?” you ask, watching as his head whips in your direction. his body catches up before he does, limbs hurriedly trying to cover himself. it’s no use, you’ve seen the skin-like suit already and how it hugs him in all the right places. despite this, he still grabs his backpack (the dijimon one that he swears is not for children) and tries to cover the large emblem on his chest anyway.

“h–hey there, bee,” he stutters out, “fancy seeing you here.” he shifts so that his elbow is resting against the ground and holding his chin, on his side with the other hand on his hip.

“wow,” you muse, “you’re definitely pulling off the casual look.”

“i try. it’s the only way we can get through this rat race called life. it’s hard out here for us normal everyday college students.”

you raise an eyebrow. “normal and everyday, huh?”

“yep! normal, plain, basic... all the other adjectives…” he trails off and you see his eyes flicker to the door behind you. you can tell that he’s worried, wondering if anyone else would be making their way up here soon.

you know they aren’t. your lab team believed the lie that you came to take some samples of the greenhouse for your thesis. everyone knew not to bother you when you got in the zone. you’d run around with a million different tasks, swiftly collecting data like a worker bee collects pollen — your namesake.

“hm. and what other adjectives could we use?” you inquire, blood pressure rising. “oh, I know. sneaky, devious, cowardly—!”

“would you believe that i’m just heavily into cosplay?”

“gojo satoru!” you hiss, your tone immediately making him stand up to his feet, palms raised in your direction. his body is fully covered by his suit, the only thing missing the mask. even now it’s hard for you to imagine him under the two white teardrops that peered down at you that day, swiftly bringing you to safety. “explain yourself.”

he groans as if the confession will actually kill him, reaching a gloved hand back to scratch at his undercut. his hair is a mess, sticking in all directions. you begrudgingly find it cute. “if i do, do you promise not to freak out?”

you briskly walk up to him, black heels clacking as your lab coat sways behind you. “i’m already freaked out, satoru. who wouldn’t be after finding out their friend is spi—“ 

“shhh!l” he reprimands, hands flying around in the air in front of you. “what if someone hears you?” he quickly looks left and then right, peering around the rooftop as if the mystery person would materialize out of thin air.

“hears me?” you scoff, lowering your glasses to apply pressure to your nose bridge. “that’s the least of our problems. you’re not the only person at risk here. you’re a criminal, a vigilante and i am now officially a guilty party.”

satoru watches as you lean against one of the wooden analysis tables, careful not to touch the equipment with your hands or sleeves.

“i didn’t exactly ask you to be,” he grumbles, following suit and resting against the dark wood. “listen, i wanted to tell you. both of you. but suguru is so morally righteous that i couldn’t trust him to not tell my family. i didn’t want to drag you in and have you constantly worrying about me. i’m sorry, really, but i don’t regret doing it. i just regret you finding out this way.”

you snort, glancing over at him. you notice now that he has gotten bigger over the past few months; large biceps and shoulders broader than they’ve ever been. “‘toru, i’ve known for three months now.”

his eyes widen, bright blue and vivid underneath the moonlight. you should be heading home now, but seeing him swing through the sky and land on your building, a detour was added. it was the only way you could get him alone. “what do you mean you’ve known? since when?”

“christmas eve,” you answer sheepishly, “you uh, you saved me from that guy with the horn? when we were shopping?”

“rhino.”

“is that his name?”

he shrugs. “it’s what i call him.”

you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“alright then, sure, rhino. the guy damn near crushed us.”

satoru bumps your hip with his, a sly smile on his face. “i wouldn’t have let him. especially not if i knew you’d hug me so tightly after.” of course this is when he tries to flirt with you.

“we were flying through the air and i thought my friend,” you poke his chest and try your best to ignore the hard ridges, “was still under the rubble.”

“well, good thing i wasn’t!” he exclaims, “i was busy saving your life and being a hero.”

“a vigilante.”

“a hero. and a good one, too.” a pouty look passes over his eyes, his face resembling that of a kicked puppy. “i knew you’d react this way.”

in the years you’ve known him, satoru has always been a bit over dramatic, but you can tell that you may have actually hurt him a bit with your words. you quickly backtrack. “alright,” you sigh, “maybe you are a hero but… that also makes you a target, satoru. i’m more worried than i’m angry. what if something happens? fuck, like that week that you weren’t in class? you got hurt didn’t you—“

“come on, bee.” he interrupts, moving to stand in front of you. when did he get taller? “i need you to trust me. just this once.”

his hands drift to your shoulders, gripping your lab coat and pulling you close so that you’re forced to place your hands on his chest to create distance. he’s warm underneath your fingertips. you give in and loosely wrap your arms around his waist.

“okay,” you murmur, “but you have to come up with better excuses, satoru. shoko thinks you’re on drugs, suguru thinks you’re depressed, and nanami… well, actually he’s been fine.”

“ouch,” he whispers with a teasing lift in his voice, “that hurts.”

“your ass or what i said?”

“both. definitely both.”

the two of you giggle, your hands migrating to his hips as you pull away to look up at him. his arms are around you now and you can feel each muscle flex as he caresses your back. it feels intimate, familiar. it’s not the first time you’ve hugged but warmth rises up your neck. the night air nips at the skin beneath your glasses.

“you know, i missed this.” you sigh, “this is probably the longest conversation we’ve had in months since you’re always gone now.” the words are sitting in waiting on your tongue. “i really missed you, satoru.”

you like to think he knew this, even before you told him.

“shocker.” he says this teasingly, but quickly shifts back to being serious, a small smile on his face. “i missed you too, bee.”

you break eye contact so that your gaze is in line with his chest, puffing out a gust of air as your eyes zero in on the spider emblem. “i never got the chance to say thank you. for that day.”

“don’t,” he responds, “it’ll inflate my ego and then i’ll hold it over your head forever.”

“oh, yeah? well, at least you’re honest.”

“painfully so. that being said, i do still require a small payment for my services. it’s only fair.”

you raise an eyebrow, but nod, your left hand coming up to pull lint from the textured fabric of his spider suit. “uh oh, what?”

his gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth. “do you think,” the tip of his tongue glides across his lips, the pink muscle leaving as quickly as it came. “i could kiss you?”

for a moment, you simply stare him, drinking in the facial features that are situated directly in front of you. satoru has always been handsome, you knew that when you met him. only recently had your feelings developed into something… more and you both were seemingly content with letting things stay the same. 

as far as you could tell, gojo satoru wasn’t interested in romance. you’d never brought it up but there was only so many flirty jokes that you could take. it makes things worse that he’d been gone for so long. if you thought that you’d grown immune to the stupidly charming man, you were wrong. even though he’s a mess, freshly out of a fight according to the small cut on his eyebrow, he retains that alluring, almost unreal beauty that comes with someone like him.

warmth flushes your cheeks as you are suddenly more aware of your close proximity than ever. your eyes widen, a nervous giggle leaving your lips. “you’re not being fair.”

“i’m being serious.” he replies, though his tone tells you he is anything but. he lifts a hand to tuck a curl of your hair behind your ear. “i heard you talking to shoko. you said that spider-man had… what was it again? the tightest ass you’d ever seen— ouch!”

you punch his shoulder hard but he barely moves. your fingers throb and you ignore the pain as you quickly pull away. “that was a private conversation!”

“your voice carries and i just happened to be around! also, are you sure you aren’t secretly a superhero? i’m probably bruising as we speak.”

you roll your eyes. “alright, i’m leaving.”

you turn to make your way to the exit door, but you’re swiftly pulled back by your wrist. before you can even blink, the white-haired menace lifts you up bridal style in his arms. you immediately start pounding at his chest. “satoru put me down—!”

“come on, kiss me! you know you want to.” he smirks at you, cocky and knowing. he shifts you so that your legs wrap around his waist. not expecting the sudden movement, your arms automatically wrap around his neck to keep you grounded. when did he get so strong?

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh, i get it now,” he teases as he leans in close, voice soft as his lips graze the shell of your ear. “you want me to put the mask back on?”

this stuns you, and by the way you tense up you’re sure he knows that you’ve probably fantasized about something similar in the past. “you’re insufferable.”

“keep going, this is doing it for me.”

“i’m actually going to kill you.”

“not before i get my kiss, bee! come on, it’ll be fun.”

you narrow your eyes at him. ‘fun’ for satoru could mean many things, typically on the more dangerous side. if the small scar on your thigh was anything to go by, you might need a helmet and shin guards. “be serious.”

“do you want to kiss me?” he asks suddenly, bending down to press his forehead to yours. you feel your gaze soften at the same time his does. fuck, he definitely wasn’t being fair now.

“what kind of question is that?” you breathe out.

“a serious one.” his eyebrows furrow slightly, eyes peering into yours. “answer it.”

“…of course i want to kiss you. you already know what this is.” you grumble, giving in.

“then come here. i only bite on the second date.”

“do not use tongue.”

“sure, pretty.” pretty.

you shift in his hold, staring into the familiar blue eyes in front of you. with a sigh, you cautiously begin to lean in. before your lips can touch, something occurs to you and you abruptly pull back. satoru does a terrible job of hiding his disappointment.

“wait, you can pick me up?”

at first he gives you a confused look. blinks once, then twice as his brain catches up to your statement. he looks down at your current position, him holding you as if you were a paper weight.

“of course i can pick you up. i can pick up a car.”

you distantly wonder whether he can hear the erratic pounding of your pulse at the information. his palms ever so lightly curve over your ass before settling on the undersides of your thighs, drawing you close enough that you feel the hard ridges of his muscles again. you want to touch him, drag your hands over the sharp divets in his body. maybe it’s the sleep deprivation or just your own desire shining through, but you decide that maybe just this once you’ll tease him back. "a car, huh? i knew i was crushing on spider-man for a reason."

despite your attempts to keep your voice steady, there’s still a slight nervousness to it, he smirks. "i am a superhero after all, i hear girls typically like that sort of thing.”

"that depends on if you’re done teasing me." you murmur. you are certain that the shiver beneath you isn’t from the chill night air.

“i can be,” he responds, hooking one arm under your ass and moving the other to hold your chin. his nose brushes against yours. “but you have to stop stalling.”

you’re not sure if he’s talking about just the kiss, or the obvious tension between the two of you. either way, you give him an imperceptible nod and the smallest ‘okay’. it is all the reassurance he needs to let the line that has buzzed between you for so long — snap.

you know you’ve reached the point of no return when his lips touch yours. a warmth spreads through your body, threatening to set you aflame if you didn’t hold satoru tighter against you. the hand that once held your chin presses against your back. you are impossibly close but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

the anticipation of finally kissing him has reached its boiling point, bubbling up inside of you and spilling over the edges of your heart. unable to contain it, you whine against him, feeling his thumb rub circles into your back.

satoru’s mouth is hot against yours as you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue. you can feel him smirk as he easily lets you in. the taste of a fruity energy drink is on the tip of his tongue as you intertwine, moving your fingers to trail up into his hair. 

it’s only when you feel a familiar ache between your thighs that you pull away, the two of you huffing against each other's mouths.

“what’s wrong?” he pants, “did i do something?”

you shake your head, mind hazy as you process your thoughts. “n-no you’re fine. very fine, actually, i just… i think i’m getting too lost in you. we should stop.”

he hums. “you wanna stop?” satoru is already leaning in to capture your lips again.

you voice is barely above a whisper. “uh huh,” as you eagerly close the distance.

this feeling is new, nothing you’ve ever experienced from anyone until now and especially not from satoru. his normally teasing mouth is anything but as he kisses you, explores you in the form of languid kisses. hands that you now know can bring someone to their knees, twitch as they caress your thigh and spine, grip the nape of your neck.

it is entirely meant to be innocent, you had no intentions of crossing that line. but then you shift slightly and feel the swell of his cock against you. a whimper stumbles from your lips.

now it is his turn to pull away, forehead resting against yours. “okay, fuck i see what you mean now,” he breathes out, “we should actually stop now.”

you nod your head ever so slightly, lips just barely an inch away from his. “y-yeah, we really should.”

when you say this, you swear that you mean it. of course with the way satoru is looking at you, eyes narrowed and lidded, it’s hard to be stern. his cheeks are rosy, lips bruised pink, hair a start contrast against the deep blue of the sky. you don’t want to stop, you know he doesn’t either.

“how long do we have until someone comes looking for you?”

you start pressing warm, opened mouthed kisses to the exposed skin of his jaw, his hand grips down tighter on your thigh. your words are slightly muffled against his skin. “now? like twenty minutes.”

you barely register it when you feel yourself being placed on one of the work tables, dress hurriedly pushed up around your waist. your heels clatter to the ground but you don’t have time to care when his fingers begin to tease and rub against your clothed slit. “s–satoru! wait–!”

“we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” you lean into his shoulder and whimper as his long fingers rub at you through the soaked fabric of your panties. “just be good for me, yeah? let me make up for not being around like i should’ve been.”

there’s a brief pause where his glove is discarded to the ground. you feel a now bare hand pull your panties to the side, the cold night air making you shiver despite the warm body in front of you. there’s the distinct sound of your slick coating his fingers as they spread you open, a moan finding its way out as you grind against him.

his hand shifts so that his thumb teases your clit, fingers prodding at your entrance. “satoru,” you whimper, “please.”

you feel him smirk as he presses kisses against your flushed cheeks and forehead. “yeah, baby?” he murmurs, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers? get you nice and ready for me?”

you gasp as two of them enter you, dragging against your walls as you clench down. “fuck, you’re tight,” he comments, a flash of panic on his face that you don’t see with your face still in his shoulder. “this isn’t your first, is it?“

you shake your head, calming his trepid heart. “just been a while–!“ you choke out, his fingers grazing your g-spot. 

“then i better make it memorable, yeah?”

your equilibrium is thrown off balance and you can only gasp as you suddenly find yourself in the air. satoru’s fingers pound into your cunt as you drip down the grooves of his palm. while one hand is dragging your moans out of you, the other holds you as if you weigh nothing, strong and stable as it curves around your ass.

“oh, fuck!” you moan, gripping at his shoulders as tears pool in your eyes. his fingers are relentless and he shows no sign of tiring as he keeps you firmly in place. even if you wanted to get away you couldn’t, like a caged animal, or more fittingly an insect trapped in his web.

your glasses start to tilt off your face and instead of having to push them up again, you move to take them off. you yelp when a bite is placed on your neck, cunt clenching involuntarily as satoru pulls back with a lustful gaze. “keep them on,” he groans, “you look so sexy with them on, bee.”

you lean your forehead against his, your moans and whimpers becoming intertwined with his as you kiss him again. this kiss is different from the others you’ve shared, all tongue and lips as loud smacks are heard whenever you pull apart.

“need you so badly,” you admit, “wanna feel you inside me, filling me up.”

your friend (if you could even still call him that) is quick to grant your wish, easing his fingers out of your cunt and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “one sec, gotta get this off..”

he places you again on the table, quickly tugging down his suit so that his torso is exposed. you see the swell of his cock where the suit now hangs, dripping precum from the pink tip against the bottom of his stomach. fuck, was he not wearing underwear?

you reach out to tease the head, reveling in the way satoru bucks forward into your palm. “how do you want me?” he asks, his heavy breaths obvious against his sweat slicked chest.

you smirk, lifting your arms in his direction. “i want you to bounce me on you. you’re strong, right? you can do all the work?”

satoru chuckles but it’s not in his usual playful tone, a hand grips your throat but doesnt add pressure, holding you in place. “we don’t have a lot of time, i can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you.”

“i don’t want you to be,” you whisper, wetting your lips with your tongue.

he quickly pulls your panties off your legs, lifting you with one arm so that you’re positioned perfectly. with his free hand, satoru guides himself into your wet cunt, growling as you take him to the hilt. he hasn’t even moved you yet and your juices are already dripping down to coat his balls.

“hold on tight, pretty girl. you can even bite me if you like, I’ll barely feel it.”

you’re trembling, holding onto his shoulders as you adjust to his size. when you nod your head against his neck, satoru lifts you up before slamming you back down on his cock.

wet slaps of skin echo in the quiet night. you’re too high up for the bustling city to make much noise, your moans and whines lost as you dig your nails into his back.

satoru isn’t faring well either, his free hand groping your ass and copping a feel of your tits. “when we’re not on this fucking roof i’m gonna worship this pretty body, but you don’t want that right now do you? no, you like that i can fuck you with one arm; treat you like my own personal fuck doll.”

you moan at his words, impossibly wet as he tweaks your nipples and grinds the fat of your ass. you feel consumed by him, like there isn’t a part of your body that he hasn’t touched. 

“did you – ah.” satoru hisses, biting down on his own lip. “did you hope it was me?”

“w-what?” you whimper, trying your best to focus despite the hand that you feel now playing with your clit. “i-i didn’t know until after. heard your vo – shit – your voice!”

he moves your body quicker now, grunting each time he pistons his cock into your tight heat. “did it turn you on? knowing that i kept you safe, that i protected you?”

you feel a familiar pressure in your stomach. “s–stop talking,” you whimper, “or i’ll—“

“cum? i want you to, honey bee. want you to milk me for all i’m worth.” he kisses against your neck, up the skin to bite down and suck on your earlobe. “cum for your hero. show him how thankful you are.”

with eyes damp and foggy, you hold him tight. “s–satoru, c–cumming—!” and feel your pussy flood with his cum. tears track down your cheeks at your orgasm but satoru’s movements don’t stop, riding out his orgasm as you slump into his chest. “there you go, honey bee, ride it out. that’s it.”

you feel like you’re floating, weightless against him. satoru holds you in both of his arms now, fixing your glasses before gently petting your hair. “are you okay?” he asks, murmuring into the crown of your head.

you nod, sighing against his chest. “more than okay.”

he’s about to respond when the loud echo of police sirens go off in the distance. you perk up, looking at him in alarm. you know from the look in his eyes that he—

“i have to go.” he says, placing you down on the table and hurriedly handing you your panties. he’s tugging his suit back on, glove and mask following soon after.

“seriously, satoru?” you ask, squirming at the feeling of his cum inside you. he gently puts your heels back on your feet.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. but i’ll see you later, okay? we can… talk. leave your window open.” he’s about to leave, shoot off into the night, but you grab his arm and stop him in his tracks.

“satoru, be safe.”

he tugs his mask up to reveal a small smirk, leaning to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “of course, always.”

with those parting words, he swings off into the night. you can only hope that he’s able to keep his promise.

on the nights when you dream of him, you wake up in fear.

sweats drips from the hot, temperamental skin of your forehead, tiny baby hairs curl at the moisture against your nape. you are falling, gasping as you sit up abruptly from your chilled bedsheets. shadows seemingly shift in all corners of your bedroom and the edges of your mind. you know now that the heavy pounding you hear is not the rush of thick blood pouring from a gushing wound, but instead a hand against the wooden frame of your bedroom door.

“bee!” your grandfather yells from behind your door, “you gotta see what’s on the tv, darlin’!” his accent is heavy, years of living in the city warping his speech.

you clear your throat and reach for the plush cover on your bed. when you find only a thin sheet, you realize that you must have kicked it off in the night. you hear the pounding again and imagine a weathered, sun spotted fist against strong pine.

“c–coming,” you stutter out, “just give me a sec!”

from behind the door comes your grandfather’s signature grunt of acceptance. you notice the way his knees click as he makes his way back to the front room, showing his old age.

you stumble out of bed, legs loose as you tug your pajama shorts lower on your thighs. you didn’t want to have to hear a mouthful from your grandmother tonight about showing too much skin.

when you lift your head again, you realize that the fear that manifested before still lingers, your vision is blurry as you try to make sense of your room that’s only illuminated by pale moonlight and a flickering neon sign. 

your science fair trophies are where they have always been, your poloroids are still attached to the wall with the same tacky blue paste. your basket of unfolded laundry is still there and your high school diploma sits mounted right above it. nothing is out of the ordinary, but in its own way, normalcy is nothing short of terrifying.

you quickly snatch your glasses from the bedside table and put them on, thankfully realizing that the outline of a jacket was not the sleep paralysis demon you originally assumed it was.

the apartment you live in has always been small, so it doesn’t take you much effort to make it to the front room. hurried footsteps follow the sound of crashing and gunshots from your grandparents old box set tv. as you round the corner you see your grandpa leaning back in his favorite chair and your grandma holding what seems to be an abandoned crotchet project.

your blood runs cold as you watch the scene unfolding before you. it’s the channel five news, live and showing a high speed chase down a busy new york street. a masked set of criminals are shooting from the back of an unmarked van, lifting their heavy weapons up high in hopes of hitting what appears to be a moving object (with the way they whip their guns around in the air).

the figure is distinctly male, webs shooting from his wrist as he easily flies through the cityscape. the helicopter footage only shows so much, but it’s enough for you to see as the bullets narrowly miss his head and shoulders, red and blue blurs past your screen just slow enough to catch the spider emblem on his chest. whoever these criminals were, they had alarmingly good aim.

“see that, bee,” your grandpa mutters, “this damn spider-guy has been wreaking havoc all over the city! i mean look at the state of that street!”

“he’s lucky he hasn’t lost a limb with the way he’s throwing himself around,” your grandma adds, “do you see the way they’re shooting at him? he could be killed!”

you walk closer to the screen, kneeling down on your knees as your gaze follows your boyfriend. it had been six months since satoru confessed to you on the rooftop of your shared internship building. it was… nice, knowing that he trusted you enough to share his secret (even if you had to weasel it out of him). and since then, things have been a lot smoother between you two.

he was still busy, but you knew why now, making swift excuses for him on your nights out with friends. suguru teased you to no end, shoko finally let up on the drug addict allegations, and nanami was glad that he didn’t have to deal with the obvious tension between you two anymore. things were looking up, genuinely improving.

when he had the time, satoru would take you to his favorite parts of the city. the first time he actually had you in the air, you refused to even look at him until you landed on solid ground. he’d kiss your forehead and yell out stupid quips to you as you glided through the night, the familiar new york sounds making it hard to hear. “you aren’t scared, are you?” he’d tease. “those wings not working, honey bee?”

despite his incessant teasing, you trusted him to never let you fall. but recently your safety wasn’t what was on your mind. seeing him now, just barely avoiding death, it unnerves you.

the nightmares were gradual, kept at bay when satoru sneakily ended up in your bed at night. but when he wasn’t there (which was more often these days) you struggled to have a peaceful night's rest. 

it was always the same visceral scene that your mind would conjure up:

you would be at home, like you are now, watching as spider-man battled the latest villain of the week. your body would go numb and your mouth would be dry as sandpaper. there would always be a buzzing in your ears, gentle when paired with the shrill sound of satoru’s screams; of him begging for help that would never come.

the air would smell of congealed blood and bile, you’d suddenly be out of your living room and crouched right next to him in crumbled concrete. he’d cry for you, plead for you to save him, but you could never stop the bleeding.

you’d wake and think you could still feel his nails digging into your forearms; the urge to scrub your hands raw is all consuming as they pulse with unseen blood.

you never wanted to talk to him about it, hovering over your cellphone with each strangled breath. fear was a powerful thing and you were afraid that if you spoke about what you saw, it would turn out to be true.

“satoru,” you breathe, watching as he stops the van with the force of his body and webs, holding the vehicle in place before it can ram into a sea of people in times square.

“your white-haired friend? don’t tell me he went out tonight,” your grandpa asks with worry, eyebrows furrowing as he goes to sit next to you on the ground.

your grandma follows suit, placing a gentle hand on your head and a kiss to your temple. they smell of home, comfort that you often seeked out since the night your parents died.

“i’m sure he’s fine, sweetie. he’s a smart boy, sharp as a tack! he can handle himself.”

she had no idea how right she was.

you imagine a powerful, strong body tangled in limited edition spider-man bedsheets. (satoru bought you a set despite them being too small for your bed.) you imagine soft breaths in your ear and the tickle of long pale fingers against your chest. you think of early mornings with blurry blue eyes and hurriedly grabbed coffee as you enter the internship building. they entangle you, situate themselves firmly in your chest so that even when he’s gone you will always have him near.

when you think of him this way, your fear suffocates you. you have to force your tears to stay put as you lean into the comforting shoulders of your grandparents, lean into the security they provide. “yeah,” you whisper, “i know he can.”

your grandmother was right, satoru could indeed handle himself. the chase ended at around two am and your grandparents retreated to their bedroom as things settled down in the city. the criminals were apprehended and spider-man was gone as quickly as he came.

you stare at the news reporter as they interview civilians on the scene. the general consensus this time was that he was a hero. he saved their lives and for that they were grateful. grateful enough to stand out in the rain just to sing his praises. you wonder if they would feel the same loss as you, if the mere thought of his death kept them up at night.

it’s a split second decision when you text him, when you realize that the only way to ease the ache in your chest was to feel him. see him. alive and breathing.

you: come over.

satoru: oh? right now? you miss me that much? ;)

you: satoru, please.

satoru: that bad? alright. no need to beg, beautiful. i’m on my way.

there’s a gentle knock on your bedroom window. it’s three am according to your digital pochacco alarm clock, but your body is as awake as it’s ever been.

you quickly shift off your bed to flip the latch, yanking the window up to reveal a familiar smirk patiently waiting for you on your fire escape. air fills your lungs as if you’d been drowning for weeks.

“hey there, pretty,” satoru murmurs, eagerly pressing a tender kiss to your lips. his mouth is cold and raindrops drip onto your windowsill, but you feel warm in this space.

you move back to make room for him to hop inside, noticing that there is no hint of red or blue under the collar of his black sweatshirt and sweatpants.

“hey there, handsome. was starting to think you weren’t gonna make it.”

satoru arrived later than expected. his hair is slightly damp from the rainwater which tells you that it was uncovered on his journey here. he must have changed clothes and opted to take the subway, laying low so that no one could find their way here by following him.

“and miss you in these extremely cute pjs?” his hands curve around your waist, travel down to the slope of your ass with a gentle squeeze. “i couldn’t possibly miss out on that…”

his voice trails off as you lock eyes, a curious look appearing on his face. at first, you think he’s confused but the look leaves as soon as it came. he pulls you in close and your hands press into his chest.

“does it matter? you’ll tear them off of me anyway.” you trail your hands downwards to grip his hips, slowly easing down to the ground on your knees. you feel the way your boyfriend tenses up from the attention.

“right, but typically that happens a little later, yeah? someone’s eager tonight.” he comments. you can hear the slight nervousness in his voice, but you don’t comment on it as you palm the slowly growing erection between his thighs.

“can a girl not miss her boyfriend?” you ask, freeing his impressive length as you situate his sweatpants and underwear under his balls. satoru hisses at the contact, a hand gently caressing your head.

“no, baby that’s not it i just— oh fuck!” you take him deep in your mouth without warning, your hand moving to grip the rest of his cock that you can’t fit. “i’m just w-worried about you. not that i don’t want this but y-you’re not usually this riled up— holy shit.”

your tongue drags against the underside of him, eyes glancing up to watch the way satoru tilts his head back in ecstasy. his hand grips your hair as you see a flash of light from the neon sign outside. it swallows him in a sea of red, and you swear that the gasp he lets out is suspiciously close to a final breath. blood. bright and thick blood floods your vision. it’s on his clothes, his skin, a gaping wound in his torso that just barely holds him together—

you jolt back, your head knocking against your bed as you try to create distance, eyes wide and blinking. satoru is startled for a moment before he sees the panic on your face. he quickly ducks down, hands hovering over your now shaking form. one glance down at his state of undress and he’s tucking himself away with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“hey, hey,” he coos, “what’s wrong? did i hurt you? how do i make it better? do you want to stop? we can stop–”

you can’t help the sob that leaves your throat, despite your best efforts. you cover your mouth with both hands as to not alert your grandparents. the last thing you needed was for them to barge in here and see your best friend sketchily hovering over you.

although he seems alarmed, satoru doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms. he easily pulls you into his lap as you bury your face into his shoulder. weeks of anxiety and fear spill out of you at once, harsh and ugly cries leaving your lips. god, you felt ridiculous.

“you aren’t ridiculous,” he chastises. you realize you must have said that out loud. “we’ve known each other for years and the closest i’ve seen you get to crying is when you ate that ghost pepper with shoko.” you giggle at the memory, burying even further into his warm embrace.

satoru smells like the city, respectively; of rainwater and smog… but there’s a hint of familiarity there. underneath the haze is his soft laundry detergent and cologne. he is the pillar that grounds you and you cling to him like a child. “i’m sorry,” you whimper, feeling his palm caress your clothed back.

“don’t be. i don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want–“

“that’s not why i’m upset.” you interject, not enjoying the shift in the conversation. the last thing you wanted to do was make him believe sex was the problem. satoru pulls you in closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head. “i’ve been… having nightmares, recently. vivid as hell and i haven’t been sleeping well.”

he doesn’t speak at first, hand still rubbing your back to soothe you. your tears fall silently now, your throat heavy with the weight of your admission.

after a while, he sighs. “you always do this.”

you clear your throat and the weight lifts. “do what, exactly?”

“not tell me how you’re feeling! you’ve been this way for years, sure, but you’re my girlfriend now. the apple to my pie, the straw to my berry–!”

“gojo satoru.”

“i’m being serious. whatever scary thoughts you have, you can keep them from everyone else… but not from me. never from me.”

he pulls away so that your words are clearer; not muffled by the fabric of his clothes. “what’s been going on in the busy little head of yours, bee?”

now it’s your turn to sigh, fist clenching and then unclenching around his sweatshirt. you’re most comfortable in what you know, so you start there. “like i said, i’ve been having nightmares... about you. specifically, you dying in various horrific ways while i watch… unable to do anything.”

you feel satoru stiffen, but he recovers quickly. you decide to continue.

“it’s all science, really. conditioning! you being around relaxes me, but when you aren’t i can’t sleep. i just sit up all night wondering where you are and–“

“and if i’m dead.” his voice is plain when he speaks, but the gravity of the words are even harder to swallow when he says them; his own mortality held in the palm of his hands.

you inhale sharply through your nose, hold it in until your lungs burn, then release it. “yes,” you whisper, “if you’re dead.”

satoru is shockingly quiet, but you know he’s simply thinking. he breathes steadily, as if you had simply told him how your day was. you know your breaths are more erratic, that he is feeling for your heartbeat with every touch against your back.

“damn. i guess it’s a good thing i’m a superhero, then. some random bank robbers aren’t going to kill me.”

you scoff. “but the guns they have might.”

“i told you how my powers work, didn’t i? i can sense them before they can even think to hit me. i can feel everything around me all at once if i concentrate hard enough.“

“but what if they catch you off guard?”

satoru pulls away from you so that your eyes meet, his hand cups your cheek. “they won’t. they can’t.”

“baby—“

“listen to me, bee. i told you on that roof that i’d be safe. yeah, i take a few risks here and there but i’m always… mostly careful.”

you raise a brow.

“look, what i’m trying to say is that you don’t need to stress yourself out worrying about me. i don’t plan on leaving you behind anytime soon. plus, i think we still have a few movie marathons left in us.”

his thumb caresses the skin under your eye, tinted slightly darker from your lack of sleep. “well, maybe one more.”

you giggle, poking a finger into his side. “you’re such a pain in my ass.”

“but i’m yours, yeah?” he presses a kiss to your cheek, nose drifting across your skin. “you’re stuck with me.”

you smile, leaning into him again as his kisses trail even further up your face. your heart pounds in your chest as you hold him close. “yeah, and you’re stuck with me,” you reply, voice low and steady. “which means i can’t watch you die.”

“you won’t have to.” he murmurs against your hairline, his lips gentle against your skin. “i’m the strongest, remember?”

and you do remember, it would be hard not to. satoru has always been strong mentally, but the physical is all you can focus on now. even through the thick material of his sweatshirt, you can tell that he is anything but weak. you miss feeling powerless under him. you enjoy letting everything go when it’s him that makes your mind go blank.

“how could i not?” you respond, pulling away so that your palms travel down the front of his sweatshirt. “…unless, you want me to forget? focus on something else?”

he grins at your obvious teasing but a hand grips your wrist. “are you sure? i wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed again. i tend to have that effect on pretty girls.”

the way your other hand finds its way to his bare stomach is answer enough, but you still respond. “i’m sure you do, spider-boy… but if you can’t get it up again, i understa–”

you are pinned to your bed before you can fully blink, practically having flown in the air with the speed he’d moved you with. you can’t move, arms firmly pinned to your sides. satoru is looking down at you with an expression you recognize and you feel a throbbing between your legs.

“tell me if you want to stop, but let me just…” he reaches down to dip two fingers into your pajama shorts, letting out a stuttered breath at the wetness that begins to pool between your puffy slit. “there you are, beautiful. gettin’ nice and wet for me already. such a good girl.”

his fingers tease and rub against you, gathering your wetness and dragging it up to your swollen bud, rubbing it back and forth as you whimper and writhe against his strong hold. you can’t help the way you gasp, covering your mouth with your palms to muffle your scandalous sounds.

satoru is quick to take advantage of the way your hands are now preoccupied, using his own free hand to tug your breasts out of your flimsy tank top.

“fuck,” he growls, groping you brazenly and playing with the peaked nipples on your chest. his tongue is hot as he takes one in his mouth, his fingers now fucking into you with each suck of his long tongue.

your legs twitch as he starts to kiss downward, leaving your nipples slick and chilled from the night air. satoru is slow in the way he kisses every expanse of your skin, your pretty stomach and supple thighs, your soft feet and the backs of your knees. he travels down to your pelvis to watch as he thrusts inside your wet heat, slick against his hand and coating his fingers.

“so pretty,” he groans, “how could i ever leave you behind, huh?”

“satoru,” you moan, “please. i need you inside.”

he presses a kiss to your mound. “patience, beautiful. i promise i’ll give it all to you in time… just let me taste this perfect pussy first.”

the movement that follows is a quick whirlwind of fingers tugging off clothing, a determined look in satoru’s eyes as he folds you practically in half on the bed, forcing you into the position as if you were a mere toy, weighing nothing to him.

you nearly choke on the gasp that leaves your mouth as he latches onto your clit, hands firmly on the back of your thighs as he shoves his tongue deep inside your tight hole, drowning his moans in your cunt and lapping up your essence.

“oh my god,” you moan beneath your hand, the other moving to gain purchase on the bedsheets as he practically devours you. satoru is a man on a mission, his fingertips digging into your skin as his tongue penetrates deeper inside you until you’re shaking and writhing in the bed, begging to cum.

“yeah, pretty girl? you want me to make you cum on my tongue? want me to hold you in place so you can’t run away from me?”

you nod frantically, biting down on your lip so that your hand can bury in his hair. when you tug on it, you feel his hands grip even tighter, your voice sharp as you feel the sting of nails in your skin. the pain is welcomed as you cum in a sudden shuddered moan, feeling the coil in your stomach fully unravel as satoru reluctantly pulls away from your pussy.

his mouth is messy, his breathing ragged. you know from the look in his eyes that he is fraying at the seams, trying his best to not lose control.

“come–“ you pause and clear your throat ever so slightly, voice slightly scratchy. “come here.”

it is, once again, alarmingly quick how he slots his throbbing length between your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so that he can see all of you as he sinks inside with a slow, desperate stroke.

every inch of him feels like relief, your moans tangling into one another’s as he leans down to capture your lips in his. your cunt flexes hard around him, practically begging to be filled.

satoru is quick to grip your headboard, the other arm wrapped your waist to keep you close. he shuts his eyes in hopes to calm himself but you would be an idiot to ignore the sharp crunch of splitting wood above your head and the small bit of dust that floats in the air. there is now a large crack in your old headboard, traveling down the side and disappearing underneath your pillows.

satoru lets out what is a mixture of a groan and laugh. “oh, shit. sorry. guess i still have to get used to the whole super strength thing.”

“we can accept a casualty or two.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back to you. satoru is unrelenting as he moves in a blur of slamming hips and sweaty chests. you find yourself wanting to feel him closer. your fear that he could simply disappear has been eased but you need more.

you hook your legs around his ass to pull him in deeper, the sudden angle shift causing a choked cry to fall from his mouth. “what are you doing?” he hurries out.

“need to feel you, toru, make me forget. please.”

your pleas egg him on as satoru grits his teeth and meets your hungry gaze, lifting to pin you further into the bed as he thrusts harder and faster. the bed creaks underneath you but you find yourself uncaring, hoping the still turned on tv would drown out the noise. satoru desperately wants to make it better, wants you to feel safe and secure because you’re his. he had to protect himself so that he could protect you.

a shift in the air happens when tears start to trickle down your cheeks. at first, satoru is shocked as he watches the water drip and cover your pretty skin, but he soon realizes that the tears are not your own. his vision blurs as you lift a hand to cup his face. “i love you,” you whisper though your speak is warbled, “stay with me.”

“fuck, bee,” satoru scrambles to find purchase on his emotions but everything comes to the surface. he can’t help the way he blurts out—

“i love you, too. so much. i’m not going anywhere, baby. i promise.”

he leans his forehead against yours as you connect in a sea of ragged, damp moans and whimpers. the soft pattering of rain on your window is gentle when paired with the sharp sounds of you reaching your peak, hands holding on to satoru as if he’d disappear.

your orgasm is harsh and sudden, your limbs clenching as you bury your face into satoru’s strong shoulder. you try your best not to be loud, muffling your sounds as best as you can as your boyfriend’s name bubbles up in your throat. satoru, you whimper, satoru.

“so close,” he grunts, “bee i–i’m fuck—!”

satoru’s babbling is cut short as his own orgasm rips through him like a surge of energy, intense and all consuming as hot streaks of his cum flood your insides in white.

your boyfriend lets out two heavy breaths before he’s rolling you both in the bed, back against the sheets as you rest against his chest.

the movement cause his softening cock to slip out of you, and you whine at the sudden empty feeling.

“holy shit,” you both say in unison, giggles erupting from both of your throats.

“that was… a lot,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest. “but it was good. really good.”

“of course it was,” he says with a smirk, “you don’t keep me around for just my pretty face.”

you press a kiss to his chest. “no, i guess i don’t.”

satoru briefly wonders how much motivation he has to get up and head back to his place, knowing that in the morning your grandmother would come knocking with an offer of pancakes. still, he wants badly to—

“‘toru.” you murmur sleepily, fatigue finally catching up to you.

you feel a forehead press against yours as satoru responds with your name, your actual name. “it’s me.” he whispers. “i’m here.”

you hope he always will be.

“my grandparents don’t like spider-man all that much.”

he chuckles and twirls some of your hair around his finger. "they still like me though, right?"

a few seconds too long pass and satoru stops his toying with your hair. "…right?"

your snoring is the only reply he gets.

not going to explain anything important in this a/n bc yall never read them anyway, lmao. hope you enjoyed reading! thanks for the support on my new account since my last one got flagged.

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes. #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk smut #angelshubnetwork

[coffeecubes]

"𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬!"

𝗵𝗰𝘀 + 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼: 𝗱𝗼𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸? 𝗦𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆… 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴… 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁?

✩ 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 | 𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗲𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿, 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗻, 𝗯𝘂𝗱𝗱𝗵𝗮, 𝗾𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗵𝘂𝗮𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

✩ 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲

✩ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲! 𝗘𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀! 𝗠𝘆 𝗤𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘃 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗻𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳

𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒

Imagine his confusion when you dodge his kiss

A bit hurt but tries to kiss you again

You dodge him once again, making his face turn to horror as if Poseidon had said he was the worst older brother ever to his face

Hades, who had fallen in love with you, was always a gentleman. The first time he saw you, he knew that you were going to be his wife. He treated you as his equal, his woman, and his queen all at once. He was gentle, patient, loving, and so protective of you, making sure to respect you as who you are. He was one of the few gods who physically showed how much he loved and cherished you, which was rare in the divine. 

He introduced things to you slowly, making sure to go at your pace since he didn’t want to hurt or scare you away. Showing affection and kisses in small moments was one thing that he adored, since it showed connection and strong desire for one another.

There was a trend going on lately where lovers would dodge each other’s kisses as a prank, and you thought it would be funny to try it on your husband, who was so heavenly in love with you. It was just a small teasing but your heart absolutely shattered when you saw his face fall.

“Love?” Hades tilted his head, his strong arms coming to grasp your waist once you dodged again. 

Hades didn’t think this was funny at all as he pulled you onto his lap. He turned you over so you were facing him before he placed his head above your chest.

“Did I do something wrong?” he pouted, his handsome face turning sadder in each second and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“No! It was just a prank, that’s all!” you explained everything to him and suddenly it all made sense.

“Well… shall I try again?” Hades’ mood brightened up as he attempted to kiss you once more, and you happily obliged.

Now, he’s carrying you to his bedroom where he’s going to punish you for teasing him 😉

Poseidon later came to visit his brother and his sister-in-law until he heard the noise coming from the bedroom and he left

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑

He leans in to give you a kiss but you dodged, making him kiss nothing but air

He stills for a few moments before he opens his eyes with confusion and he whips around to see you resuming to your own routines

You felt extremely bad as you felt his eyes upon your figure, as the thunder god wonders if you are mad at him

The thunder god never showed any sort of affection or emotion to anyone, so imagine the shock of the entire heavens when rumours had it that he had fallen in love with you. He wasn’t social and didn’t have many friends despite how powerful he was but the moment you came into his life, it brought another side out of him. He wanted nothing but to spend his immortal life with you, enjoying the sweet comforts of your presence, listening to your stories, and relishing your touches, kisses and love.

Affection was something he never knew he lacked in his life until he met you, and your small kisses were one of the very things that always made his busy day better. He was extremely occupied these days with his duties so he didn’t get to spend much time with you, making him wonder if you were pissed at him. 

You were already regretting your actions and you should never have listened to Loki’s stupid prank. Thor was good to you but that dumb trickster had decided it would be funny to see his cousin’s reaction to his wife not wanting to kiss him. 

“My sweet…” Thor’s voice echoed down the corridors, as you scurried away from him.

His loud footsteps followed your smaller form, as guilt began to bottle you up. You can feel the hurt and sadness radiating off of his body and it got worse when he grabbed your arm gently to stop you.

“Are you mad at me?” the god asked as you refused to answer to keep Loki’s prank going.

You thought you could do it until he pulled you into a tight embrace, apologising to you.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

That’s it.

You whipped around and cupped his cheeks, explaining everything to him, telling him that Loki told you to do it because he wanted to see his reaction. Thor was obviously pissed at Loki and he was about to go beat him up when you grabbed his face once more and kissed him lovingly. You two made out in the halls for a little while until his bloodthirsty battle smirk came out.

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the private chambers, where you two will make up for all the lost time when you were apart 😍

Loki got a black eye after

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐍

You have a death wish if you have the audacity to dodge his kiss

He was mad, like really mad, as he grabs you by your chin and holds you in place to kiss you but you deny him by biting your lips in

He never felt anything ill towards you but for the first time, there was this bitter and hurt feeling that boiled up in his chest as his cold eyes glared into your own

It was an understatement that Poseidon was a terrifying god. Of all the divine, he had the most power, authority, and presence of all the gods and he was ruthless in his approach. He looked down on others and even deemed them as filth if they didn't reach his standards. He doesn’t talk to the lowly and his emotions seem non-existent.

Until he met you.

When you first transferred to his castle to work for him, he felt as if cupid’s arrow had cruelly decided to pierce him and for the first time, this god wanted someone. He wanted someone to stand by his side, someone to rule with, and someone to love. 

Poseidon was cruel to everyone in his fortress but when it came to you, he tried to soften up and treat you less harshly. He was still critical and blunt, but you soon realised that he was giving you advice and helping you improve. Pretty soon, you two were together and now married. He would also show gentle gestures such as caressing your cheeks, holding your hand, and embracing you to show others who had their eyes on you that you belonged to him - and him ALONE. 

When you two were alone, Poseidon showed a side to you that you didn’t think he had as he treated you and your body with such grace and gentleness. He was rough in bed as well but it felt as if he was telling you that you were his everything, his precious goddess who stole his heart.

And now, Poseidon was on thin ice with you as he slammed the door shut and placed his hand above your head, trapping you beneath his large body. 

“What’s going on?” he sneered at you, “you don’t want me anymore?”

You were going to kill Aphrodite later for blackmailing you into this.

“Poseidon, no! I do want you!” you told him truthfully, “it’s just that Aphrodite…”

The moment you said that lustful goddess’ name made Poseidon’s face darken. He huffed angrily and brushed his blond hair, feeling his anger snap. You were a nervous wreck as you tried to walk past him until he took you by the chin and slammed his lips into yours. You kissed him back and sooner or later, he was on top of you in bed, making sure that you gave him the kisses he deserved. 

You two had fun that night, Poseidon made sure you were sore the next day 😈

Aphrodite was banned from talking to you ever again

𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐇𝐀

Imagine the shock pikachu face as you dodge his kiss, his jaw dropping to the ground like a heavy stone

His lollipop fell from his mouth and you try not to snicker as you walked passed him

Not a single word was spoken out either, while the feeling of being heartbroken stabbed him like a blade

Buddha was a god that took no shits from anyone. He was true to himself, he was enlightened, and he was proud to guide others into a path where they could also achieve enlightenment. That’s why he became so fond of you.

He adored and fell in love with you because you gave no shits to anyone. You didn’t let the hardships and suffering of the things around you bring you down, instead you found new ways to conquer them and achieve happiness. Buddha adored and loved being by your side. He particularly loved cuddling with you on top of hills, munching on little snacks and tears, while being lovey dovey with each other. 

Buddha was always a tease to you because he loved seeing how flustered and shy you get, your facial impressions were one of the top things he enjoyed. But recently, he seemed to be getting over your boundaries with his teasing. You’re usually fine with his teasing but this time, Buddha just won’t leave it alone. Usually he would drop it and apologise afterwards, even kissing and caressing your figure, but this time, he was persistent.

So of course, you decided to get back at the enlightened one, turning your head away and walking away from him. Buddha’s jaw dropped to the ground in shock as he whipped around, seeing your figure walk away.

He, of course, went after you.

“(Name)... my love?” he questioned, pouncing on you.

His legs were wrapped around your waist with his hands hugging your chest, as he cling to you like a koala. Because of his heavier weight, you tumbled to the ground, with him straddling on top of your waist. He tried to kiss you once more, but you dodged, making him quirk an eyebrow as he was getting more and more frustrated.

You were trying to keep on this facade until a lightbulb appeared in Buddha’s mind. You were beginning to crawl away from him when he grabbed you by the leg and pulled you back, proceeding to tickle you mercilessly. 

You shrieked and wheezed, laughing your core out while Buddha teasingly leaned into your ear.

“Do you not love me anymore?!” Buddha cried out, biting your ear as you continued to laugh.

His figure was heavier so he practically had you in his grip, as you laughed and tried to fight his hands off.

“Buddha, no-!” you shrieked at his towering figure, “I was playing a small prank-! I love you!”

“If you love me then don’t dodge my kiss! You’re breaking this gentleman’s heart, you know?” he soon stopped and engulfed your breathless body, nuzzling against your hair in a loving way.

You two soon made up until you yelped when he spanked your ass.

He then carried you like a baby to an area that’s more private to have some sexy time together

Let’s just say you both gained more than enlightenment on that night

𝐐𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆

This handsome king would just keep on asking for kisses, but you would continuously deny him

No one would deny the emperor of China but you took your chances to prank him since he always had a sweet spot for you

The first time you did it, he felt as if you bitch slapped him as he stared at you in shock, before he followed you everywhere, asking for kisses again and again

Qin Shi Huang was the greatest emperor of China, a title that was on par with his strength. He was confident, bold, and never backed down against an enemy or someone that threatened his country and people. 

He met you one night when he was ill with a cold. You were a healer from a small village but you were extremely talented and knowledgeable, so his advisors went to fetch you right away. When you arrived, the emperor was breathless when he saw your appearance, as you treated and tended him tenderly.

“Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.” were the first things he told you.

“I’m a healer.” you told him simply, telling him the village you were from.

After that night, Qin realised that you were intelligent, beautiful, compassionate and he declared proudly that you were his official doctor. He recovered quickly and soon, the emperor was absolutely in love and enamoured with you. 

As a husband, Qin was much more charismatic, playful, and teasing in a cute way, unlike his usual serious self when he was taking care of the country. He loved to kiss you, cherish you, and shower you with his attention and touches. Speaking of touches, this man absolutely cannot get his hands OFF you. He was obsessed with touching you, making sure that you were still here by his side since he had a terrible past. He didn’t want to lose you, holding you tight every night in his arms when you two slept, and making sure that the guards and bodyguards were keeping you safe when he was busy - though he tends to guard and protect you now. 

You always responded to his touches and affectionate gestures but since he was always a tease, you wanted to have some payback.

“LOVE!!!” Qin exclaimed, following you and trying to kiss you constantly, “come back!”

“I caught you!” he sang and you squealed as he embraced you and lifted you up happily.

His hands rested on your waist and his lips pursed, leaning forwards to kiss you once more, when you dodged again, leaving him more perplexed than ever. 

“Eh?” his eyebrows raised and he tried once more, but you dodged, “my queen, are you upset? Please don’t be… I just want to kiss and love you.”

He continues to pester and whine, placing butterfly kisses along your neck and arms until you give up and finally kiss him.

Since you denied this emperor, he was going to give you the spanking of your life in his bedroom 

And you gave him some treatments too- 😏

Additional stories:

✩ Infatuation (yandere!gods x reader)

✩ Little Darling (yandere!thor x reader)

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok smut #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror hades #ror fluff #ror buddha #ror thor #ror poseidon #ror qin shi huang #snv thor #snv hades #snv poseidon #snv qin shi huang #snv buddha #snv x you #record of ragnorak #ror smut #snv smut

[theminecraftbee]

so, you've been considering getting into hermitcraft.

that's great! welcome! we are an extremely enthusiastic fandom, i admit, but we are very happy to have you watching the hermits! however, with over a decade of existence and twenty-seven current hermits, it can feel very intimidating to get into hermitcraft. luckily, as of the time of this posting--january 31st, 2024--it's also the BEST time to get into hermitcraft, because a new season starts on february 3rd! (and if you're reading this later: don't worry. this is ALSO the best time to get into hermitcraft. don't worry about it i'll get into that.)

the shortest version of this advice is: start wherever you want, with whoever you want. it doesn't matter, you can catch up.

still, it can seem like a lot. so, from someone who's been around since mid season seven, here is a more detailed guide on how to start watching hermitcraft!

what is hermitcraft?

hermitcraft is a collection of people who all play on the same survival multiplayer minecraft server. that server is a mostly vanilla minecraft server; i don't really call hermitcraft "vanilla" anymore, as they rely on a number of largely cosmetic mods, but the things they do on hermitcraft should, broadly, all be possible in vanilla minecraft, and the server still "feels" vanilla, so. vanilla minecraft. they do this in "seasons", which are periods of time between a year and two years, after which they reset and start on a fresh server.

in comparison to something like qsmp or even the life series, hermitcraft leans heavily on the "building cool things and hanging out" side of the spectrum as opposed to the roleplay side. however, at least once a season the hermits like to do a big storyline; sometimes, it's more frequent. many of the storylines are more natural escalations of things like server prank wars or a failing server economy, though, as opposed to things that are clearly in-universe roleplaying. don't worry, though; you'll know a hermitcraft storyline when you see it. by everyone's bad acting. also, by rendog putting on a silly accent.

if your only impression of hermitcraft has been from the fandom, you... probably have a somewhat mistaken impression. my bad. in my defense, i am a horror writer at heart, and in the fandom's defense, a LOT of crossover has happened with the life series fandom, which leads to both sort of leaking into each other. in general, expect things to be on the lighthearted goofy shenanigans side with very few exceptions when you're actually watching hermitcraft, despite the way the fandom tends to be.

where is hermitcraft?

broadly, youtube! hermitcraft is an almost entirely video series, and if you want to watch a hermitcrafter, you will almost certainly need to watch them on youtube. there are only very rarely streamed hermitcraft events, and these are normally announced ahead of time.

what if i prefer twitch?

skip the rest of this and just watch joe hills. i promise i'm not saying that because i'm a joe hills guy; i'm saying it because he's the only hermit that consistently streams from hermitcraft. impulse, tango, cleo, pearl, xisuma, iskall, and hypno all also appear to stream fairly regularly, but it's not always from hermitcraft.

where should i start?

now, that's the real question, isn't it? my answer is simple: start Now. if you're reading this as i post it, that means start this saturday on everyone's episode one. if you're reading this long after i post it, though, just... go ahead and start with whoever you want to watch's latest episode! the nice thing about hermitcraft is that you can GENERALLY jump in wherever you want.

but what about old seasons?

you do not need to watch older seasons of hermitcraft. unless you want to, of course; the world is your oyster and they are very good! however, there's also a LOT of old hermitcraft, and if you want to join in with what hermitcraft is doing now, old seasons aren't necessary. very little carries over from season to season. while sometimes old "lore" or recurring bits can carry references over, and the relationships between hermits will often carry over to some extent (if often not in the same patterns), it is never to an extent that you need the old seasons for context. each season is a clean new slate, and where "lore" carries over, the relevant hermit will almost always explain it to you.

what about helsknight/evil x/hotguy/boatem/convex/some other thing i've been hearing about?

i promise, if they are relevant to this season, they will explain it to you in the relevant episode and/or it will be easy enough to pick up. do not worry about it. each season is a soft reset for a reason, and one of those reasons is to make it easier on new viewers! and if you're here because you WANTED one of those specific things... ask an older fan! they'll be able to direct you to the places they're from.

do i need to watch all the hermits?

absolutely not! in fact, i strongly recommend you don't. there are going to be... hold on let me count... twenty-seven hermits? (i am bad at counting don't quote me on this) in this season alone. keeping up with all those videos is too much for basically anyone! instead, pick a few hermits that you like best, and if you want to keep up with everyone else, go to the hermitcraft recap youtube channel and watch that! it is a vital hermitcraft resource where pixlriffs, zloyxp, and lyarrah all watch every single hermit so that we don't have to. honor their sacrifice and don't try to watch everyone.

but how do i pick someone?

few ways! there exist, if you google, plenty of "choosing your hermit pov" quizzes; if you head over to the hermitcraft subreddit, for example, i'll be SHOCKED if they don't have one, and if you go over to the recap channel, they had one of those for a while too. this is the starting place for many people.

another way is to watch the recap and choose whoever's project interests you most. for early episodes, this may be hard, but since hermits tend to go hard for their first episode, you'll normally at least be able to pick up a sense of pace and build style.

just watching whoever it is your friends are obsessed with is also a tried and true method of finding your first hermit; frequently, like with the recap, this is a good method for then figuring out whose style you like best, and switching to them, if you don't end up clicking with the same people your friends click with.

finally, you can just... click a random hermit's channel! try a few out! maybe you heard about decked out and want to watch tango; maybe there's a storyline you want to start watching because the dash has been rambling about it; maybe you just want to know who this grain character is. clicking around until you find the guy whose editing you click with is a totally valid strategy!

that sounds hard. just pick someone for me.

if you like well-edited shenanigans: grian or mumbo jumbo. (these are also good starter hermits in general, i've found; if you aren't sure where else to start, start with one of them.)

if you like long background noise-type videos: docm77

if you like minigames: tangotek.

if you like a chill video: xbcrafted or, if the texture pack gets you, vintagebeef.

if you like storylines: rendog or grian, again. (i was trying not to double-up, but if you're here from an rp-heavy server, grian remains a great entry point in that regards.)

if you like to see something new and bizarre: zedaph if you prefer highly-edited videos, joe hills if you prefer lightly edited videos.

if you want the best building on hermitcraft: pearlescentmoon or bdoubleo100, special mention to goodtimeswithscar.

if you want someone as new as you: i'll come back and edit in whoever the new hermits are once we know! but them.

if you just want one of my favorites: zombiecleo or iskall85.

thank you! what if i DO want to know what the fandom is always on about?

that, i'm afraid, i don't know how to help you with. you'll just have to watch hermitcraft from here--and maybe read some of the fanworks that have intrigued you--and find out for yourself!

good luck out there, and i hope this has helped someone!

#mcyt #hermitcraft #long post #...a tag i normally resolutely don't use but i don't want this under a cut and it IS very long #ANYWAY HERE IT IS MY THEORETICAL GUIDE!

[velvet4510]

Here’s the thing.

Many Bagginshield shippers, especially in fics, focus on how Bilbo never got over Thorin, to the point where some describe Bilbo’s life as sad and unfulfilled because of that loss.

Don’t get me wrong: I do agree that he suffered terrible loss and undeserved torment by the Ring. And the fact that he never marries probably does have some connection to the memory of Thorin.

But, y’all, don’t forget or ignore the fact that, in Tolkien’s text, Bilbo does move on from grief and live the rest of his life well.

He does not become bitter from his pain. He retains his kind heart.

He is generous with his wealth, helping in every way he can the very community that ostracizes him.

He sees in Frodo a kindred spirit and takes it upon himself to be the parental figure that Frodo so badly needs as an orphan.

He and Frodo develop an uncle-nephew (really more like father-son) relationship built on trust, keeping no secrets from each other, to the level where he tells Frodo the truth about his encounter with Gollum. (And probably the truth about his feelings for Thorin, too.)

He and Frodo have so much fun, going for walks every day, studying the Elvish languages, and throwing big birthday parties to show the community a good time. It’s plain to see that caring for Frodo filled that massive void inside Bilbo, finally giving him someone to love and devote himself to looking after, after his first chance at that (albeit the first being a different kind of love) was taken from him.

He does not see himself as superior to the lower class despite his riches, and always treats the Gamgees with the utmost respect.

He teaches Sam to read and write.

He tells his story to the younger hobbits, inspiring more of them to want to learn more about the outside world and not be so sheltered and ignorant…an effort which ultimately saves Middle-earth because the Travelers learn from him to be curious and interested in the lands outside the Shire, and he inspires them daily, as they constantly say to themselves “if Bilbo could go there and back again and face great danger, so can we.”

He even learns to love having a tarnished reputation, ultimately taking advantage of being “mad” to play a fun prank.

When he is no longer at rest in the Shire, he gifts Frodo all his property which will ensure Frodo is set for life, and through all his passive aggressive gifts to his relatives, he gives the Gaffer genuinely useful items that he knows will help him, including ointment for creaky joints.

He gets a peaceful retirement among his Elven friends, which he spends writing his memoir so that future generations will know all about his lost friends.

And ultimately, he embraces the special gift of an exception from the Valar and rare permission to set foot in the Blessed Realm for one last adventure, where he will continue to look after his beloved nephew.

And the fact is, he never would’ve gotten any of these things if he’d stayed in Erebor. He would never have developed that special bond with Frodo - he may never have even met him - and consequently, Frodo may never have met Sam.

Yes, a lot of his life was lonely and somber. But much more of it, even after experiencing such a tragedy, was full of love and joy and fun and excitement. He became an invaluable caretaker and mentor to the next generation of hobbits, got a taste of fatherhood, passed on his expertise and his story, and spent his last years surrounded by friends and family.

Bilbo Baggins may have lost the love of his life, but he did not give up on life itself, and he lived a full one. Don’t forget that.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #frodo baggins #bilbo and frodo #hobbits #samwise gamgee #elvish language #red book #the valar #valinor #tolkien elves #bagginshield #thorin x bilbo #samfro #frodo x sam

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 15: Spanking/Flogging - Poly! Marauders

Summary: Sirius, ever the one to explore the kinky side of life, has bought a new toy which you're a little apprehensive about.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, foursome (F/M/M/M), polyamory, dom/sub, spanking, sex toy (flogger), punishment, discussion of safe words(!), pain play, overstimulated, begging, crying, praise kink, subspace, aftercare

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“So where did you buy this?” was your first question as you stared at the opened package in the middle of the bed.

“I don’t think you want to know, Darling”, Sirius answers suspiciously as he sweetly kisses your cheek. You give him a deadpan look, not liking the answer at all.

“It looks like something from the dungeons, a torture device or something”. Reaching forward, you picked up the object Sirius called a flogger or whip. It had a black handle with a wrist strap and many thin leather strips coming off the end that swayed when you moved it. Inspecting it closely, you weren’t sure what to make of it, especially the leather material, making it seem almost barbaric.

“So what are you supposed to do with this? Swat flys away?” Your wrist twisted and turned as you pretended to swat an imaginary insect, earning a low chuckle from the three men scattered around the room.

Sirius, the closest to you who was sitting next to you on the bed, edged closer to your body until you could feel his warmth against your arm. Gently, he took the flogger from your grip and moved so that his handsome face was only an inch away from yours. His silky voice dropped an octave, “It’s for a certain naughty girlfriend and boyfriends who need a telling-off on their pretty little arses”.

Hearing this, your eyes zone back to the item, eyebrows furrowing as you bit your lip. “I don’t think I’ll ever be naughty enough for this”. Apprehension settled heavily in your stomach as you weren’t sure if you liked the thought of being spanked with something that looked so medieval.

“You know, we’d never use it on you if you didn’t want us to, right?” Remus reassures from where he is leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed. Your shoulders drop in relief, giving him a thankful smile and nodding your head.

Keeping to their word, the Marauders did not use it on you. However, you were able to watch the flogger being used on the other, more specifically Sirius and James; however, it was mostly the long-haired Marauder that seemed to enjoy it to its full potential.

It was a rare occurrence for one of your boyfriends to receive the punishment in the form of being spanked, but over the recent months, it seemed that Remus, James and Sirius were willing to permit the punishments to each other and not just for you. Usually, it was because Sirius had done a prank without consulting the others, and hence, the rest of the Marauders got into trouble. For James, it was falling behind on his schoolwork because he was too busy practising his quidditch. Everyone tried to rally together to enforce the rules that were in place. It may have seemed like a strict regime to others, but it all returned to the dominant and submissive relationship the four of you shared.

You were the submissive of the group and enjoyed the dynamics more than anything, whereas the guys were more dominant, with rare occasions to switch when feeling particularly needy. There were always safe words in place to protect one another, and aftercare was the most crucial thing - next to communication - so all punishments were prediscussed to make sure they were consented to. They always end with sexual rewards or a feeling of euphoria due to the dopamine released with the mixture of pain and pleasure.

James was the first you got to witness with the flogger. He’d started with spanks to the back of his perfectly sculptured thighs that left red hues in the shape of Remus’ palm against his skin. When checking in with him during the punishment, James informed his boyfriends that he could take more, so Sirius took over with his new flogger. You sat cuddled into Remus’ lap, watching with fascination and morbid curiosity as to what the flogger would be like as you’d been thinking about the toy a lot recently.

It didn’t look or sound as scary as you thought, but James still flinched further up the bed, especially as the leather strips had caught the edge of his balls.

“Holy shit”, James grunted, fisting the shits and burying his face into them.

“Colour?” Sirius asked in a steady, clear voice.

“Green”, James confirmed, glancing over his shoulder with a broad grin.

“Good boy, count with me”, Sirius encouraged. James counted each hit with the flogger, suffering and grunting with each of the impacts but then relaxing into the bed in between during his breaks. By the time he reached number 15, James’ arse was streaked pink, and he was now slumped onto the bed, saying his safe word and that he’d probably had enough. Sirius agreed with him, and they proceeded to give him a lot of comfort and aftercare, being careful to tend to his spanked arse.

The following few times that you’d witnessed the flogger in action was with Sirius, who had been showing James and Remus how to use it properly and how much pressure to put between each hit to ensure it wasn’t too painful for the receiver. He even offered to show you how to use it, but you didn’t feel comfortable giving us punishments of any kind; it felt counter-intuitive, especially as all you wanted to do was cuddle and nurture them when they were crying out through the punishments.

Watching Sirius have a punishment was a special experience in of itself. He was so prideful and addicted to his pain kink that he continued to egg his boyfriends on whilst in the midst of having a punishment. After receiving the spanks delivered by a palm, he would boast and say it wasn’t nearly hard enough. This part of him sparked something in Remus, determined to show him that he shouldn’t be so mouthy. Sirius loved to push people, testing them and himself to see just how much he could take before breaking.

This has its own warnings as it could push the limit of the punishments, becoming dangerous, which is why it was crucial for all four of you to be present during these moments, and if someone deemed anything was going too far, it would stop immediately.

This happened the last time that the flogger was used. Sirius’ arse was perked into the air, the skin warm from the spanks and beginning to deepen in colour, but the palm wasn’t enough, and all he kept doing was mock Remus. “You think that’s a punishment? That was more like a love tap”. Remus soon fell for the teasing and found the flogger, using it on each of his round arse cheeks, the sound of the leather strips was louder than when James had experienced it, but from the noises Sirius was making, it was evident he loved every second. The red areas soon began to raise with hints of swelling from the impact, but Sirius continued to beg for more, needed it as if his life depended on it.

It was James who finally stepped in and said it was enough as he was observing Sirius’ face and could see that his eyes were glazed, even though he was grinning, showing all of his teeth. He looked drunk, and it scared the hell out of you as he was rolled onto the bed, body flopping as his mind was lost in his floating consciousness. However, he kept repeating how good it felt, which was then that you noticed that he’d came on Remus’ thigh just from being spanked.

Following this, your curiosity was peaked. Wondered if you would get the same euphoria that Sirius had experienced, and even though you hated the premie and thought of being punished because you were such a people pleaser, the idea of any of the boys being upset or angry with you shook your very core. However, you did like it when they spanked you during sex; when done right, the mix of pain and pleasure always felt so elating, but you were unsure how much pain was too much.

So, one late evening, the four of you were in the library finishing off the latest essay for Charms. Sirius was sitting to your right, James opposite him and Remus to his right, opposite you. You hadn’t written anything down for the last 15 minutes because you kept contemplating a question over and over in your mind until you couldn’t keep it contained anymore.

“Could you spank me with the flogger tonight, please?”

Many things happened at once. Sirius’ head snapped up to face you so quickly that he, in turn, knocked over James’ ink well, which coated his work. On the other hand, James kicked his legs and bashed into Remus’ shin, who then began to wear and rub his shin whilst looking at you like you had two heads.

Your eyes widen at the reaction, looking between the three of them confused.

“Love, you can’t just say things like this in a public space”, Remus chastises as your face heats in embarrassment with his words, looking over your shoulder, forgetting that you were, in fact, in the middle of the library and hadn’t whispered your words at all.

“Sorry”, you mumble, now deciding to be quiet, hiding your face to look sheepishly at the table, hoping none of the other students have overheard. As you stared at the table, you could see James waving his wand over his work, the spilt ink disappearing as he looked disappointedly at Sirius opposite him.

“Thanks for that, Padfoot; now I’ve got to write that entire sentence again”, James grumbled, annoyed, but he didn’t continue with his writing as he looked in your direction, making you look up to meet his stare, which was when you realised that they’re all looking at you.

Trying not to flinch under their intense stares, you lowered in your seat as Sirius leaned closer, his arm circling around the back of your chair. “Were you being serious about the flogger?”

“I thought you were Sirius”, you quip back with a small smile, earning an eye roll from the long-haired man and a ‘nice’ from James. Sighing, you sit further up in your seat and shift closer to Sirius’ side so you’re beneath his shoulder as his hand moves from the back of your chair to your shoulder, drawing idle circles through your white school shirt. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot recently. I don’t want to try the punishment side of it, but after seeing it used on you, Sirius, I kind of want to try it. Maybe I’ll like it, and if I don’t, I’ll just shake my head or say red like I usually would.”

Sirius grins broadly, his eyes blazing as he glances towards Remus and James, who are nodding in contemplation.

Shuffling in your seat, you continued, “So yeah, I just wanted to let you all know because I couldn’t stop thinking about it”. Picking up your quill once more, you move to continue your essay, “Sorry, I’ll stop interrupting your work”.

Of course, your boyfriends couldn’t return to their essay so quickly as Sirius’ hand landed on your thigh, pushing beneath your skirt so that you could feel the bare skin of his palm and the slight calluses on them from where he held the bat in his Beater position in Quidditch. His plump lips dipped to be near your ear, “Oh Darling, if you think we’re going to go back to work after this, you’re sadly mistaken.

You try holding back your smile by biting the inside of your lips, but Sirius doesn’t need your mouth as his head tilted so he could kiss delicately along your jaw. Your body melted into the touch, eyes fluttering closed as you held onto the hand, squeezing the flesh of your thigh.

The two of you were abruptly interrupted by an obnoxiously loud cough, which forced the two of you thoroughly away from one another; however, Sirius kept his hand steady on your thigh. Next to the table stood a sharp-looking woman with your eyes fixed on a spot on the table as the librarian seethed at you and Sirius. “I don’t want any of that nonsense in my library.” Her eyes flick from an ashamed you to a grinning-ferally Sirius, whose eyes sparked with the confrontation. “Pack your things and get out. All of you”, she adds, looking at the other two Marauders.

The librarian leaves as James grumbles, “Thank Merlin for that, " as he packs his parchment and quills away. 

You’re feeling unsettled as you pack away your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and waiting for the others, but then Sirius is at your side again. “I don’t know why you’re looking so glum. I want to get you back to our room and have some fun”.

Before you can even react, he’s spinning you on the spot and hoisting you over his shoulder, causing your bag to drop to the floor and a scream to leave your lips. Thankfully, Remus picked up your bag and placed it over his shoulder as Sirius laughed loudly as he rushed out of the library with the librarian screaming after the two of you.

Eventually, you begged him to put you down as his shoulder dug uncomfortably into your gut, and you were pretty sure that the back of your skirt had lifted enough that you were flashing people. This didn’t stop Sirius from basically dragging you the remainder of the way, his hand clasping yours in a tight grip as you struggled to keep up with his long legs.

However, once in the Gryffindor Common room, you’re once again being lifted onto his shoulders as he raced up the stairs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as you have to stare at the stone floor, gripping the back of his shirt for dear life.

You’re then indelicately thrown onto the magically enlarged bed in the dormitory that you shared with the three men. You squeak in shock as you bounce on the mattress a few times.

“Careful with her Pads, Jesus Christ”, James warns, closing the door behind Remus before locking it.

“She’s okay, aren’t you, Darling?” Sirius assured as he wrapped his long fingers around your ankle and tugged you closer, making you scream in shock and then giggle as he crawled between your legs, kissing the space where your shoulder and neck meet. His arms rest on either side of your head as your fingers run through his hair, brushing it out of his pretty face. His mouth opened further to press sensual kisses along the slope of your neck.

James and Remus smile, watching the glee and happiness on your face from where they had moved to sit on either side of the bed. Remus brushes the back of his fingers against your temple, drawing your attention away from Sirius for a moment. “How do you want to do this? Do you want to get straight into it, or do you want to play first?” Remus asks.

Releasing your hold on Sirius’ hair, you grab Remus's hand and play with his scarred fingers before linking them together, squeezing them for comfort. “I think I want to have some fun first, then when you think it’s appropriate, you can start spanking me”.

Remus nods in understanding, squeezing your hand back in response. James then catches your attention as he dips his face so it's the only thing in your eyeline. “So, when you say you want to play…”, he begins to taunt, but his glasses start to slide down his nose, making you laugh and release Remus’ hand to push the frame back up his nose. “Thank you”, he noted before continuing, “Anyway, does that mean I get to have a taste?”

“Be my guest”, you declare, spreading your legs further underneath Sirius, who is still on top of you. Not for long, though, as James tackles him out of the way and drops to his stomach on the bed, face between your legs as he pushes up your skirt.

Each slowly took turns stripping an article of clothing from your body so their mouth, fingers or cock could draw orgasms from you. Your blood warmed with each one, thighs trembling and drenched with sweat and bodily fluids; your most sensitive areas were throbbing and on the edge of being overstimulated, hole arching from clenched so many times and clit thumping with your pounding heartbeat.

Your face was currently slumped against the silky sheets, mouth open and greedily sucking in air against the material. Sirius was behind you on his knees, cock delved deep into your pussy that was suffocating him to perfection. His hands were massaging your arse cheeks, feeling the soft skin, admiring how they moved and testing how ready you were with some light spanks. They jiggled with the impact. A high-pitched squeal bursts from your lips as well from the sharp skin, but you soon rock back onto his cock, melting into the bed so far that you thought you’d fall right through and onto the wood floor beneath.

Sirius smirked arrogantly at your reaction, doing the spank again with more pressure, causing your shrilled tone to lower. “More, give me more, Siri, please!”

“Your wish is my command, Darling”. With increasing strength, he continued to lay spanks to your arse. It felt so good to have the sharp sparks of pain to the fleshy area and the continued poke of his cock stretching your walls.

Not that you were aware of it, but Remus had rummaged through the box beneath the bed that held all of the naughty items Sirius seemed to have collected over time. Sirius held out his hand for the flogger, accepting it and then running the strands over your naked back for a second as a little warning as to what would occur. Arching your back further, you waited for the first blow as Sirius reminded you of what was discussed earlier, “Remember, shake your head or safe word if it's too much or you need a break”.

“Yes, sir”. Just to be safe so that he didn’t accidentally hit his cock, Sirius eased himself out of you and helped you to lie down with a pillow beneath your hips so that they were elevated and pushing your arse further into the air.

“Relax for me. James is just going to touch you a little to keep you in the right mood”, Sirius advised whilst cupping your warm arse cheek. You remained placid on the bed as your boyfriends moved around you. James appeared first, sitting next to you as his hand pushed between the pillow and your mound until he was cupping over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure for you to find some pleasure. Remus sat above your head, gently repositioning your head so that it now rested on his naked thigh.

Your thoughts were only consumed by the fingers resting on your bundle of nerves as your hips rocked hard against James, moaning and increasing your arousal.

“That’s it, good girl. Get yourself off on Prongs’ fingers”, Sirius praises before adjusting his position and readying the flogger. It connects with your left arse cheek. You flinch and squeal at the sharpness of the sting but relax down quickly as it wasn’t as painful as you’d first thought, as Sirius had made sure to go lightly on you. However, the burning pain did deepen into the muscle.

It was better than you thought, so a smile stretched across your lips as you nuzzled further into Remus’ thigh and rubbed your clit harder against James’ fingers.

“Well done, you took that so well, Sweetheart. See, it wasn’t that bad, was it? Let's go for a few more”, Sirius encouraged.

The man on his knees flicked his wrists and spanked both of your arse cheeks one after the other in quick succession. He rotates his hand in circles so that the sharp slaps continue to reign down as you moaned and then whined, the pain getting too much in one moment. Noticing the change in your noises, Sirius gave you a break to rub his large hand over the tender area that was hotter to the touch.

“She’s soaked”, James comments, still massaging your clit in slow circles with four of his fingers. The longer that time went on, the further the warmth in your body spread, creating a satisfied, buzzing sensation throughout your limbs and head.

Sirius continued with the strokes, the strings increasing with each whack of the

 flogger, and with each tap, your hips dug in harder to James' fingers. Sirius made sure to give each of your cheeks equal attention, the surface area deepening in shade and raising in slight swelling.

Your gasps weren’t as deep anymore. Instead, you were sucking in quick, shallow breaths to try and keep yourself stable, but it was doing the opposite as you became more light-headed. Sirius had stopped at this point as Remus began to rub his large hand down your spine in long circles. “Slow your breathing down; you’re going to get lightheaded”, Remus instructed with an authoritative tone. You breathed in through your nose until your lungs were full of air and slowly breathed out through your mouth. Eventually, it helped enough that you began to calm down again, not feeling as lucid as before.

“Keep going, please, Siri”, you mumble against the softness of Remus’ thigh. Sirius looked between James and Remus to see if they agreed that you could or even should continue, but they all nodded as you smiled lazily over your shoulder.

‘Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack’,

Sirius’ wrist continued to rotate, bringing the flogger’s leather strips to contact against your arse. You’re cringing away more, but the burn and the fingers on your clit felt so good it was almost impossible for you to explain how you felt. It was like a perfect balance; the drenching of the sheets beneath your pussy was evidence enough as to how much you were enjoying it. 

Further, you fell into the floating sensation, as if you were weightless. Even though the pain was still increasing, you didn’t want it to stop; you could keep going at this for hours and hours and hours.

“That’s enough”, Remus's voice cuts through the repetitive throughs repeating in your mind as you frown.

In a pathetic whimper, you begged, “No, don’t stop”. You try and wiggle your hips to entice the boys in, but your body is depleted of energy.

“Love, you’re crying. It’s enough”, Remus explained.

‘You were?’ you thought, having previously mistaken the wetness on your face for sweat. Opening your mouth, you tried to take another deep breath like before but realised that your chest was raking with quiet sobs.

James removed his fingers from beneath you and moved off the bed as Remus cradled your face lovingly with a calm touch with his thumb against your cheekbone. “Shhh, you’re okay. The pain is going to stop. You’ve been so good for us”. Remus continues to speak but at a much softer tone, hoping it will calm you down.

“But, I don’t want it to stop; it feels so good”, you say in a bratty tone, all high-pitched and whiny. “I feel so warm and floaty”, a hiccup bubbles from your throat.

“Ah”, Sirius begins talking from behind you, “Should have anticipated this - Oh, thanks, Prongs” he moves aside and allows James to place a wet, cold cloth onto your arse cheek, which causes your body to olt in shock. Shiving from the touch, it also helped scare you into a small reset, the cries stopping.

Remus begins to move out from underneath you, replacing his wet thigh with a soft, comfortable pillow for your head to lie on. Sirius shuffles up the bed so he is lying beside you. “You feeling a little bit spacey, Darling?” Your eyes were closed as you nodded, referring to the submissive headspace you quickly slipped into that made you feel this way, not knowing when something was becoming too painful and needing the others to help you through your vulnerability. “I thought you were”, Sirius continues whilst cupping your cheek, which you immediately nuzzle into.” “Hey, can you drink this for me? It’s ok, I’ll help you; I’ve got a straw”.

Opening your mouth, Sirius directed the straw for you to drink the glass of water Remus had gotten for you. “Well done, you wanna open your eyes for me?” Sirius asks once you’ve finished drinking.

“Too tired”, you say in an exhausted voice.

“Okay, well, how about you eat this chocolate for Remus before stares a hole through my head and James is going to rub some lotion onto the sore area. Afterwards, we’ll try to get some sleep; how does that sound?”

You’re now officially too tired to reply, so just resort to nodding your head. Opening your mouth, Remus feeds you the rich, thick chocolate he has stored in his bedside cabinet as the wet cloth is removed, and James carefully wipes some cooling gel into your arse.

“It’s ok, you’re doing so well”, Sirius encourages, still lying beside you. “Here, let’s get you covered up”. From behind him, Sirius finds a blanket that he folds in half and carefully places over your back, being careful not to be ruined by the lotion. As you’d finished the chocolate, you almost immediately passed out. You’d be sore in the morning, but certain lotions and potions could aid with this that one of the boys could go and steal from the supply cupboard, and you were more than sure that this whole night had awakened something new within your submissive, kinky brain.

#the marauders #poly!marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #james potter smut #james potter one shot #sirius black smut #sirius black one shot #remus lupin smut #remus lupin one shot #harry potter smut #harry potter #mine* #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[ma1dita]

it will pass

part two can be found here -> without a doubt

words: little under 2k

summary: Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

warnings: none! fem!reader; i would die for best friend!james, did not demonize lily; angst, unrequited love, lil childhood speech impediment, cheesy nicknames, sharing clothes, will they wont they (they wont im sorry)

a/n: guess who just rewatched fleabag szn 2! i chose pain today sorry— god i missed writing. i am a words of affirmation gorl pls affirm me

(posted 9/8/23)

—

There isn’t a single doubt that James Potter loves you.

You’ve been attached at the hip since training broomsticks and pinky swears in Godric’s Hollow. You accidentally call a boy ‘Jam’ once because of your childhood speech apraxia, and he swears you’re meant to be his best friend.

“Don’t worry, I can be loud enough for the both of us, peanut!”

Like peanut butter and jelly, you two were a perfect match– and even better partners in crime. When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So even if you were honestly unable to string the words together, who were you to say no?

Technically it’s somewhat official too, by whatever imaginary power was bestowed upon the Potter’s house elf for your very elaborate backyard fantasy wedding the two of you had when you were seven. All of your parents were in attendance, along with your cat and you all had blueberry cupcakes after your first and only kiss.

“Miss Mippy pronounces you huzbind and wife!”

Giggles are heard all around as the tiny elf tripped on her way off the stool, knocking both your heads together. James lost a front tooth that day, but he grinned for the pictures your mothers took anyway. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

There wasn’t anyone at Hogwarts who would expect one of you to be present without the other following behind. You never had to hold back your smart mouth because James was always willing to finish your fights. The both of you were a package deal, with your number of protectors growing once Remus, Sirius, and Peter came along. It was not a routine you both consciously established, but rather second nature to be in each other’s lives. Like how you always made sure his glasses were clean before quidditch matches and he’d chuck his extra jersey at your face for you to wear.

“Stay warm during the game okay? I’ll see you later, love you!”

He skated around your waist, blowing a raspberry onto your cheek as he grabbed his glasses from your fingers.

“Don’t fall off your broom. Love you too, loser.” You’re already tugging his jersey over your head, inhaling his signature scent of broom polish, cinnamon, and Sleakeasy’s hair potion.

James smiled at you softly, before running to meet up with his team. After Gryffindor won again, he threw you over his shoulder and you laughed and yelled that he smelled like sweat. He always tucked you in his bed after parties, wrapping you in his arms once the lights go out. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

Your friendship is stronger than most romantic relationships, and as your teenage years fly by, both of you realize how rare that is. He often took you to the kitchens to eat vanilla sundaes after boys broke your heart (and they got black eyes to match, courtesy of him and the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team) and you would listen to him, building him up and calming him down through years of pining over a certain Lily Evans. You were there for each other through everything, silly crushes, secret trysts, boring detentions, and highly esteemed accolades. If there ever were such a thing as soulmates, you knew it had to be him, even if it was platonic. Just being around someone as vibrant as James made you consider yourself lucky.

You once saw your best friend with his head in his hands on your way to a date—he was moping after a nasty prank on Snape went wrong; it ended in Lily crying and after defending her albeit quite boisterously in true James fashion, he still didn’t get the girl.

He gets up to see you walking down the corridor to meet him halfway, and before you even speak he rubs his eyes, posture shrinking as his towering frame melts into your embrace.

“Don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time,” he mumbles, and you gladly carry the weight of his heart.

“Let’s go swimming in the Black Lake, ” you say suddenly, rubbing his broad back in small circles.

“But peanut, you have a date in an hour! You’re all dolled up and pretty...”

“I’ll have more dates. You need me right now, jelly. I’ve got you.” His nickname makes you blush a little more than you should sometimes, so you only ever pull it out as a trick up your sleeve to make him feel better.

“Love you,” you whisper, brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck.

He breathes easily for the first time in hours, mouth curling up from its frown when he sees you walk straight into the lake water with your nicest clothes on, not even hesitating for a moment. Without a doubt, he loves you.

—

When James puts his mind to something, he sees it through. So years later, when your best friend asks you if you could go wedding ring shopping with him to propose to the love of his life, who were you to decline? I mean, who else would go with him?

“Come on, (Y/N). I need my best girl with me to make the biggest decision of my life.” he’s practically moaning, the man ever so dramatic as he’s sprawled across your couch.

“And why aren’t you dragging Sirius with you again?”

Your eyebrow is raised as you stand at his feet, lifting his burly legs for you to place yourself under and get comfortable.

“What does Sirius know about women? He’d tell me to get the shiniest one and leave!” James’ yells into your throw pillow, anguished at the thought. You pull it off his face, before he quietly admits, “I just want to get it right.”

“When are we going?” you answer, without missing a beat.

Later that week, the saleslady recommends a wide array of glimmering engagement bands, none of which are for you. But you let yourself fall into the fantasy of the what-ifs, flashing back to your flower crown and candy ring wedding, wondering if it could’ve been you getting proposed to by him in another life.

“Would you like to try a few on?” the saleslady asks, assuming you two are together.

“Show me and my girl your best. No price limit.” he grins.

And how dare she assume that, as he puts his head on your shoulder, whisking you around the store to look at stunning rings, fingers brushing, and the both of you being able to communicate clearly with no words spoken. James plays along with the saleslady, finally choosing a whimsical-looking diamond setting placed upon your left ring finger. You remind yourself it’s not yours. Your heart comes to a screeching halt and you can’t help but feel all of a sudden like he’s being mean.

After all, he’s not yours, not really.

There is a little bit of doubt now and a weird tightness in your chest that makes you think of the possibility that you’re in love with James Potter.

—

Like a good best friend, you help him plan his proposal. James’ love is loud, pulling all the stops, and preferring the grandest of gestures.

“James, you are not proposing to Lily with a flash mob.”

“But it would be so cool! After all, my heart dances every time I see her face.” he wiggles his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his butterbeer.

“Your heart might, but you, unfortunately, are the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.” You laugh, reaching over to tug the quill out of his hand, crossing it off his list. He pulls you into a headlock, kissing the side of your face teasingly.

“What would I ever do without you, peanut?”

You wipe James’ spit off your cheek, pushing his face away, blushing from his attention.

“Combust, probably.”

Your heart is dancing now too, and you realize that there isn’t a single doubt that you’re in love with your best friend.

—

You keep yourself busy in the month before his proposal. It hurt learning too many details, such as what flowers he wanted to order to bring out her eyes (pink and yellow tulips), and scouting out the perfect location on the beach he picked (next to the lighthouse you and him visited as kids), even down to how he’d convince Lily to wear white without being suspicious (honestly he just expected you to do him a favor for this one). But after seeing each other almost every day for more than half your life, he knew something was off when you became distant.

James shows up at your apartment, his key in hand, but he decides to knock anyway. The sound of the TV is muffled, lowering in volume until he hears your footsteps pad over to the door and it swings open. You’re in one of his old Quidditch sweaters and fluffy blue socks.

“Hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come by.” You smile timidly, as he leans against the doorframe peering down at you.

“Never used to have to tell you.”

“James...” you stutter, before awkwardly opening the door completely. He shuffles towards the couch, keeping his shoes on as he sits at the end, and there’s a certain tension in the air that frightens you. You’re not sure if you’ll come out of this one unscathed.

“Talk to me (Y/N). What’s been going on with you? You don’t answer my calls, you don’t write back, hell, I haven’t seen you in a month because you started deadbolting your door. Did I do something?”

Yes, James Potter. Ever so blunt and to the point, your favorite person in the world is sitting on your couch uncomfortable with the fact that you’re not comfortable around him anymore.

You fight back against your instincts to tell him what’s wrong, but the three words escape your mouth before you can even take a breath.

“I love you.”

It’s silent. The floor creaks as you shift your weight onto your other leg. You lock eyes with him for the first time that night, and so many things are going through your head that you hope he’s able to pick up on how you’ve been physically aching, carrying the weight of his love for Lily for years.

James looks like he’s about to shake his head, and you beat him to it. You don’t want pity, and he knows that, but he mutters a consolation into the air.

“It’ll pass.”

No, it won’t. Not this.

You think he knows that too. He smiles sadly, watching you turn shrinking into yourself. You never were good at thinking before you spoke. A tear drips down your cheek as you look at your socks again. Your love for him is too big and too loud for your chest cavity to handle. This love feels like dramatic choral music clashing and banging around in your ribs.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize. This one’s on me,” you say, stopping him before he finishes speaking.

Without a doubt, James Potter loves you. But he’s not in love with you.

“What I was going to say...is that I’m going to have to ask you not to show up to the engagement party. It’ll be better for the both of us. We can start again from there if you want... Peanut...”

The term of endearment hangs in the air. Your dancing heart was a ticking time bomb after all. The fragments hit your insides, tearing you apart as it combusts, and you realize that nothing will be the same after this.

James stands abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hesitates before he kisses your temple, and for some reason, this feels like a goodbye. After all, when James sets his mind on something, he sees it through. He’s been set on Lily for years.

You’re his best friend, he swears. And there are no words you can think of to deny that.

—

The End

“I don’t know what to say,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she replied. “I know what

we are— and I know what we’re not.”

Lang Leav

#james potter x reader #marauders era #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader angst #marauders x reader #james potter x you #best friend!james potter #made by ma1dita ♥︎ #james potter x fem!reader #mischiefmoons iwp

[comfortless]

Priest!König and succubus!reader perhaps 👀? (Unless you're uncomfortable)

cracking my knuckles… sin??

18+. minors do not interact. this is a little shameless. corruption kink, religion, implied virgin!König, cunnilingus, come eating, a little angst.

It’s rare to find a parishioner in the confessional this late; the church’s doors were always open, their opening and shutting is not what had König stirring from a restless sleep, but the creaking of the old hinges in that little booth certainly had. The priest hurriedly dresses himself in his cassock and makes his way to the opposite end, closing the door behind him as he wearily drags himself to his seat.

“Father,” the voice greets on the other side, so soft and quiet he can hardly hear her at all. Shy, almost. The woman on the other side seems to shift, her movement rustling against the boards of wood that separate them.

“Bless me… I have never made a confession before.”

Not a parishioner, then. A stranger coming under the veil of night… König allows a silence to settle over the confessional for a moment before he produces the holy text and sets it in his lap in preparation to free this poor woman from the sin that binds her.

“Go on then, child,” he encourages, tone mirroring her own. The priest anticipates the usual: admissions of lust, falsehoods, or the common doubts. He has pages dog-eared in his book that list of scriptures for those common problems, the ones he would easily find the words to pray for, to cleanse her soul, to hopefully return to his bed to sleep before morning prayers.

There’s laughter from the other side of the booth, muffled as though an attempt to stifle it beneath her palm had been made. Then, “Father, what if I do not wish to be absolved?”

There had been no preparations made for that, but something in the tone of her voice holds his attention. His side of the booth regains its silence as his brow pinches, determined to piece together some reasoning as to why someone would choose to play some dull prank on him of all people…

“Let me see you.”

Her demand catches him off guard again, but of all things this is hardly strange. Her tone suggests nervousness, a feeling he knows all too well as he wrings his hands and rises with a heavy sigh. The door shuts quietly behind him as he waits for the woman to follow suit. A soft rustling follows his leaving from her side, and when she does step out…

No amount of internal Hail Marys could keep his stare from lingering upon the sight of a woman nude: it isn’t that he hasn’t fantasized before, he would take his lashes and fastings and sit in the quiet of his room to comfort himself with prayer after a weak defeat to his own sins. Still… imagination could not compare to the real thing; he takes note of each soft curve, each dip and line and groove of her. Her breasts are soft, her hips enticing, the length of her legs and what lies between her thighs…

He damns himself the moment his cock twitches to life below the cassock, there’s no slow tensing; only the immediate feeling of feeling horribly confined within his own clothes. He breathes out a drawn out sigh, feigning disinterest when his eyes squeeze shut and he turns his head from her.

“… You need to leave.”

The woman’s lips purse in a small pout when he does will himself to meet her eyes again- just her eyes. No part of him wishes to lose his place in heaven, let alone take advantage of some poor lady who clearly must have lost—

“But you are so lonely… I only want to help,” she whispers, her eyes are wet and pleading, expression only further softening as she gazes up at him with an adoration he hasn’t even seen on his flock.

And those words… something shatters in him, breaks into a thousand tiny pieces when he recounts all of those miserable nights lying in bed alone, imagining a woman as he pulled his cock free and gave himself so many weak, dull orgasms that the skin of it began to sting. If God could forgive him for his weakness then… surely, just once he could allow this.

König sighs again when her hands move to free him of the cassock, but he does not take her wrist to stop her. Even with each hesitant motion, he doesn’t take her wrists into his hands or push her away. He lets her strip him bare, lets her see the way his cock drools at the sight of her and his breath seems to stutter in his chest.

“See? It’s alright,” she coos as she takes his face into her gentle hands. There’s Hell in her eyes, the devil on a forked tongue, but he allows her to guide his face downward, to bring his mouth to her tit, and he feasts upon her. To have his last supper be forbidden fruit… all of the metaphors buzz in his head when his tongue begins to circle her nipple, then the other without her even needing to prompt him.

He could not even begin to describe the sounds she made, like the softest of voices amidst the roaring of a choir in his head, Hell’s wailing and Heaven’s chiming all at once as he licks his way down her sternum, her middle and finds his nose pressed to her mound. Nothing in Heaven could have tasted as sweet as her, no amount of lashing could pull the same shudder from him as he feels course through each knob of his spine when his tongue lathes over her slit, up to the hood of her clit and back.

The sounds of her pleasure only increase further when his grip on her thighs forces her to kneel. He maneuvers her onto her hands and knees to lick her properly, eat her out in ways he had only imagined himself doing before as he grips his weeping manhood in one hand and grips her ass with the other. His tongue sweeps over her in repetition— sloppy, clumsy even as he tries to keep himself from spilling into his palm from her taste and the sight alone.

He gets… curious, flicks his tongue over her other hole too and his fingers move to graze over her clit. She encourages him with soft squeals of pure delight, even draws her hand back to touch herself while he spears his tongue in her hole. If it’s only once, he would be sure to make the most of it.

Lust is not his only sin, because pride wells up deep inside of him the moment she orgasms. He smiles, grins, before he buries his tongue back into her leaking cunt, desperate to consume her, lapping inside, around, over her her until she shivers and whines, saying that it’s far too much.

He doesn’t know how to fuck her properly, admits it sheepishly when she lies back on the floor intent to have her take him in some gentle manner, sweet for her sweet priest. Missionary of all things seemed most blasphemous considering where they are, beneath a holy roof.

So, she opts to climb into his lap, seats herself on his cock in one go. He knows he’s well-endowed, thick and lengthy, and he babbles his concerns about breaking her in a weak string of words. Her cunt is too tight, he feels the way she stretches to accommodate him, each ridge of her walls when she squeezes him… The woman only tosses her head back and laughs, digs her nails into his shoulders as she bounces on his cock with such an easy grace he can’t watch— can’t because he already feels himself beginning to tense, feels the blinding heat spread from the pit of his stomach to pull his balls taut.

He swears he sees the angels right before she pulls off of him, leaves him a trembling, aching mess where the wetness of her own arousal has spilled down to his thighs.

“I want you to pray,” she suggests, sweetly peppering his face in the most chaste of kisses. “Pray you get to finish in me.”

She wants to ruin him, wants drag him down to Hell with her. There are no protests when she bends over to present herself to him; the priest does as she asks in a whisper, pleads for her and when it’s done, his reward in in the form of two words “good boy” and her tight, pulsing heat wrapped around him again.

He doesn’t last long, doesn’t even try to anymore for fear she may decide to leave him high and dry entirely. He ruts into her with a grip on the back of her neck and the plushness of her hip, leans his weight entirely over her as the sounds of impact fill the hollow church. God isn’t watching, but the little succubus below him is so appeased and her favor is all he can care for anymore.

When he comes, he fucks her through it, doesn’t even attempt to slow down as he whines into her ear about how good she feels, how they could get married, have this forever and he will show her the light. Fuck, he would leave the church behind entirely for her if she would just let him feel this every night. His thrusts only slow when he grows soft, when he can’t even keep himself inside of her cunt, slippery with his own seed.

She lies back, spreads her legs and lets him see what he’s done, fingers herself and presses his own come to his lips. She tells him he’s fed her better than anyone else, tells him to have a taste too and he does. He laps at her fingers as desperately as he had her pussy, until she pulls away, wipes his saliva onto her thigh and asks him if he’s ready to sleep.

The bed feels so much warmer with another person present, safer somehow even if he’s never felt himself in any danger… not here. He falls asleep in her embrace, the most blissful sleep he’s ever had. It’s only a shame that he had… because when he wakes in the morning the woman is gone. He misses his prayers searching for her, for even a trace of what occurred between them. There’s no stain on the floor or clothing in the confessional… not even a note to suggest she would return.

He goes back to his sad masturbation sessions, doesn’t even repent for the way he wanders into the confessional after service to fuck his fist and imagine her voice calling to him from the other side. He pictures her body beneath him, thinks of her praise and the way she damned him when he shoots spurts of wasted come against the boards. There’s no love, no woman at his side when he returns to his bed at night, but he has his imagination for that too.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #do not look at me

[theemporium]

james potter x (sirius' younger sister) reader where he knows about it but they love making his life miserable by always being on top of each other or doing cute couple things and making out whenever he enters the room (bonus point if they use the map to make sure he's coming in)

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

If there was one thing you learnt befriending the marauders, it was to love a good prank.

From small, stupid pranks that would make you giggle to long haul ones that made you laugh until your stomach had stitches, you loved a prank. You loved being a part of them. You loved planning them. You loved having a group of friends who were able to be so carefree and unbothered around each other, healthy enough to prank each other regularly and prank others together. 

However, what you never accounted for was that these silly little pranks would lead you to fall in love with someone. And for that someone to be your brother’s best friend.

Despite what Sirius thought, your relationship with James Potter was not an ongoing prank. It was real, realer than any relationship you had ever had before. You loved him and he downright adored you like you were the best thing on this Earth, and that was just something Sirius would have to get used to. 

Not that you and James didn’t have your fun with your brother’s overdramatic, theatrical reactions.

It had been subtle things to wind him up at first. 

Like sitting beside each other during meals with James’ arm around your shoulder and sometimes feeding each other little bites until Sirius would eventually try and wiggle his way to sit between the two of you. 

Like wearing James’ jersey for quidditch games rather than his and watching as the boy claimed it a betrayal of the highest order that his sister had switched sides.

Like casually sitting on James’ lap when the group are hanging around the common room, even  when there are seats free, because you two like to cuddle up on the armchair with a blanket thrown over your laps whilst Sirius yells for no funny business. 

Sometimes, you’re prepared for it and you like to toy with your brother. After showing you the marauders map, it wasn’t rare for you and James to just set up wee scenarios when you knew your brother would walk in. 

But sometimes, it was just purely by accident that Sirius would walk in but that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of it.

“It’s too fucking hot,” you groaned as you threw your body down onto your boyfriend’s bed, only to groan when the feeling of the sheets against your sweaty skin was anything but satisfying. 

“You say this every time we get a heatwave after complaining how we have no good weather up here,” James mused as he rummaged through his chest for a shirt. 

“You’re meant to be on my side, Potter,” you grumbled, lifting your head to glare at him. 

“My mistake,” he said, abandoning his search as he began to crawl over towards you until his hands were pressed against either side of your head and his face was hovering above yours. “You are always right, my love, always.” 

Your lips twitched. “Better?” 

“Not enough?” James let out a heavy sigh before a grin spread across his face. “Well, that just won’t do.” 

Before you could complain any further, James was dipping his head down to press his lips against yours. You smiled against his mouth, your arms wounding around his neck to pull him a little closer as his tongue teased yours. 

“You’re too warm,” you murmured between kisses, your eyes falling shut as he began to trail soft pecks along your jaw. “Why are you a bloody heater?” 

“You love it during winter,” he mused before lifting his head, his eyes sparkling with an idea you knew would make your thighs clench. “Why don’t we sneak off to the lake? The water will be cold and—” 

“MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Both of you whipped your heads around to find Sirius standing in the doorway, blanching and gagging as he recoiled and covered his eyes. He let out a dramatic cry, something quite like a garbled sound of discontent. 

“Fucking hell, Pads, got some lungs on you there,” James joked, clearly unbothered by the fact he had just walked in on you two. He could have seen much worse. 

“What is wrong with you both?!” Sirius yelled, finally opening his eyes to look at you two between narrowed eyes. “Lock the fucking door!” 

There was a pause. 

“Actually no, you shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place!” He huffed out before pointing at you. “You shouldn’t even be here, full stop.” 

You rolled your eyes at your older brother. “Blah, blah, blah.” 

“Calm your tits, Pads,” James muttered before he pulled himself off the bed, taking your hand and helping you up too. “We were leaving anyways.” 

Sirius frowned a little. “Good—” 

“Your sister has a lil’ one piece she wants to show me—” 

“PRONGS!” 

“It’s her favourite swimming costume,” James said with an innocent smile. “What did you think I was talking about?” 

“You’re evil,” Sirius said with his lips turned downwards. “Both of you. I’m telling Euphemia about this.”

.

#james potter #marauders #harry potter #hp #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n #marauders fic #marauders oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fic #harry potter oneshot #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n #hp fic #hp one shot

[lectern-fullcauldron]

proximity chat has done a lot for hermitcraft. it makes the server feel closer and chattier, that's for sure. but there's a special warmth in pre prox chat silent interactions on the server. something special in the little hello dances and block punch waves. the in game chat becomes a lifeline and it was a delight to watch during timelapses.

the vibe of pre prox chat quiet hermitcraft was very much we are apart from each other, but we are here together. the hermit you are watching is alone, but never lonely.

my favourite example of this kind of phenomenon is the interactions between Cleo and TFC during demise in season six. some context: Cleo was still working as a teacher, and TFC was living in a different timezone with shoddy internet. they could never hop into a discord call together, never be online together. and yet they played.

TFC started season six by vanishing underground to build a fallout vault (not a bunker, he was very adamant about that). He rarely surfaced, only occasionally sticking his head above ground to marvel in confusion and what the others had done (and break Sahara). When demise came around, he decided to play, donning iron armour and carrying on as usual, avoiding basic traps placed in his base.

this is where Cleo comes in. Cleo, being Cleo, has announced that demise is a game between hermit and hubris, and has promptly fled anywhere she's been known to frequent (bolt hole strategy). for a while they slip into TFC's walls, just as Joe hides in the statue of Hemitry.

Now TFC is working on a fall out bunker, and Cleo likes fall out, so she slips into the base and begins to add armour stands. With them are puzzles that match the game lore with an accuracy that delights TFC when he finds them. He solves her puzzles and they come back to continue the story in armour stand diorama.

They never speak to each other, just play when they are on, conversing in the hermitcraft love language of pranks. in this time, Cleo dies in demise (falling to the hubris of trusting Keralis and Bdubs). Dead human Cleo rises, ready to kill, and TFC is happily caught up in their game.

Cleo sets another trail in the story that the pair of them are telling with armour stands. It ends with a book on a lectern for TFC to read, writing the demise plotline into the fallout lore of his base.

The vaults were never meant to protect, after all. And TFC falls for it, plummeting into the lava below, inventory full of the things that could save him - fire resist, blocks, water bucket. And yet he sits in the lava and just laughs, tired of demise and happy to give Cleo the kill they've worked so hard for.

The interaction means so much to me. They are never on at the same time, and yet they are playing together. Not having prox chat means that the game is drawn out and it spans episodes, a compilation of hard work and friendship.

And all the while, TFC refers to Cleo as 'everyone's favourite zombie mistress of cthulu' and Cleo delights in building new offerings for her friend

#good to reblog #hermitcraft #zombiecleo #tfc #demise #season six

[corroded-hellfire]

i love as you wish wednesdays! how did the three kids take the news that reader was expecting again? 🥰

It felt very fitting to fill this request this week because reader goes into labor with this pregnancy on April Fool’s Day and Eddie thinks it’s a prank at first (thank you @munson-blurbs for that idea). Yes, I have a whole timeline mapped out for these stories because I’m a nerd. I hope you enjoy the continuing adventures of this crazy gang 😘

Words: 2.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The lock clicks on the front door, swinging inward as Eddie gives it a push from the outside. Gentleman as ever, he gestures for his family to walk into the house before him. Ryan steps in first, you right behind him, then Luke comes over the threshold, Eliza slung over his shoulder, the little girl almost comatose from eating so much of her macaroni and cheese at the restaurant. 

Eddie brings up the rear and closes the door behind him. The two of you share a look full of excitement and nerves as your husband kicks off his boots and wipes his hands off on the sides of his dark jeans. It’s rare the Munson house is ever this quiet, all members stuffed from the nice family dinner they just had. Little do the kids know that the evening out was a precursor to some major news. 

It’s been a few weeks since you revealed to Eddie that you were pregnant again. The two of you had been caught in a whirlwind of excitement, your husband joking that it didn’t take him long to “get one past the goalie” since the two of you decided to go off all forms of birth control and try for another baby. Ryan, Luke, and Eliza had just started school when you found out though, so both you and Eddie wanted to give them some time to get into the swing of things before you dropped another big change on them. 

The few weeks gave you and your husband time to discuss how and when to tell the kids about the new baby. At first, you’d discussed telling the boys and Eliza separately because they’ll understand it differently because of their respective ages. Ultimately, you decided against that because it was important for you both to tell them all together, as the one big family you are. Now the time was here, and you couldn’t help but think the butterflies in your stomach must be fluttering around the baby growing inside of you. 

“I’m going to call Hannah,” Ryan says, cheeks pinkening at the mere mention of the girl he likes and went out on a “maybe sort-of” date with last weekend.

“Ah, in a little while,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of his oldest son’s chest, stopping him from heading down the hallway toward his room. He nods his head towards the couch where Luke is flinging a very rag doll looking Eliza down on the middle cushion, nudging Ryan to join his siblings. 

Luke takes a seat on one side of Eliza as she struggles to sit up, while Ryan takes the other. The younger brother takes a look at his siblings before looking back to his parents.

“Who’s in trouble?” he asks.

Eddie shakes his head as he pulls the recliner that’s typically tucked away in the corner of the room in front of the couch so the two of you can sit facing your kids. Once he sits, you perch yourself in Eddie’s lap and he immediately wraps his arm around your waist.

“No one is in trouble,” Eddie tells them. 

“We just want to talk to you guys,” you add. 

“Sounds like trouble,” Eliza mumbles to her brothers, sinking lower in her seat. 

An exasperated look is shared between you and your husband, both of your expressions simultaneously turning into giddy smiles in your excitement. The look doesn’t go unnoticed by your sons, who shoot each other questioning glances over their little sister’s curly head. 

Now that it was time to break the news, you started to get truly nervous for the first time. What if they didn’t take it well? Sure, the boys had been very excited to find out when you were pregnant with Eliza, but they’ve both grown into teenagers since then and gained the moods that come along with the titles. Eliza might not be thrilled either, used to being the baby of the family, getting the lion’s share of the attention her whole life. Neither you nor Eddie doubted your kids would love their new sibling dearly, but their initial reactions were still a little worrisome.

A soft hand rubs up and down your thigh, as if Eddie can sense your nerves–and possibly shares in them as well. You’d both prepared a time and place to tell them, figured out how to initiate the conversation, but how to come out and say it? Not so much.

Eddie clears his throat and gives your leg a light squeeze, letting you know he’s got you. He gives you a nod, encouraging you forward. You’d wanted to be the one to break the news. In this moment it was hard for you to remember why.

“So, we have some news for you guys.” You know if you let those words sit there too long the three kids will just start shouting different scenarios and ideas at you, so it’s best to just get it out. “You’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.”

There. The hard part was done. Now you were ready to see their reactions. Only, none come at first. You simply sit there in your husband’s lap, three pairs of eyes staring back at you. It feels like your chest seizes up and you internally wonder if you’d said the words aloud or not.

But finally, a smile cracks on Ryan’s face and he sits up straighter.

“Really?” he asks.

The initial response breaks the ice, allowing the younger Munson siblings to sink into the conversation as well.

Eliza looks a little confused while Luke’s eyebrows pull together and he lets out a groan as he flops back on the couch.

“Ugh, that means you guys still do it,” he says. 

You can’t help but balk at his words, your cheeks heating up. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise you coming from Luke. It certainly didn’t shock your husband. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at the fourteen-year-old. “How old do you think we are?”

“63,” Eliza answers immediately with complete confidence. 

Stifling a laugh, Ryan leans in towards you, you meeting him halfway to hear what he has to say.

“Be glad that the age part of that is what she focused on,” Ryan mumbles to you and you nod in agreement. 

Eddie runs his hand over his face, pushing past the age thing. “Eliza, do you understand about the baby?”

The little girl tilts her head to the side like a confused puppy. She looks alarmingly like her father with an open and curious expression on her cherubic face. 

“A baby?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Eddie says with a nod. “There’s a baby growing in Mommy’s tummy.”

This seems to puzzle Eliza more than anything else that has been said. Her face scrunches up as she tilts her head to the other side. “How did it get there?”

At her question, both of your teenage sons turn to look at the two of you with shit-eating grins on their faces. Of course they’d be no help.

“Yeah, how?” Luke asks, feigning innocence. 

Heat blooms fire in your cheeks and Eddie clears his throat before shooting the boys a quick glare. By the way he clenches his fist, you can tell your husband is resisting throwing a couch pillow at the younger teen. 

“Well,” Eddie says, taking a calming breath, “when mommies and daddies love each other, their love can grow a baby.”

Questions still swim in Eliza’s eyes so you swoop in to add more information before she can ask anything more specific. 

“And the baby grows in my belly until they’re big and strong and can be born,” you add. 

The little gears turning in Eliza’s head are practically visible as she thinks over her parents’ words. She’s silent for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m the baby.”

“You’ll always be our baby girl,” Eddie is quick to assure her. This was his biggest worry in telling the kids; Eliza was so used to having everyone wrapped around her finger. “Ryan and Luke are still my baby boys.”

The three-year-old isn’t convinced. 

“…I’m the baby.”

With a soft smile, you lean forward and scoop your daughter up in your arms. She settles in your lap with a little huff, and you press reassuring kisses to her chocolate curls. 

“You are. But there’s going to be another baby. That means you get to be a big sister now.”

The toddler ponders this aspect for a moment, eventually asking, “What I do?”

“Well, before the baby is born you can help me pick out things for the nursery and some cute baby clothes,” you say, appealing to her stylish streak. “You know I trust your fashion sense more than the boys.”

Eliza’s small head bobs up and down in agreement. Never again would she let her brothers pick out her outfits—she’s learned her lesson.

“Then after the baby is born,” you continue, “you can teach them all kinds of stuff. You’ll be to the new baby like Ryan and Luke are to you.”

“Will…” Eliza’s bottom lip starts to tremble, another worry taking hold in her mind. “Will they still love me and play with me?”

Her big brothers are on duty though, already reassuring her before you can even raise your head to look at them.

“Of course, squirt,” Luke says, reaching forward and poking her full belly. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily.”

“A new baby is just one more person to love,” Ryan explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “But that doesn’t mean we love you any less.”

“The heart can always make more love,” Eddie adds, taking his daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“And just think,” Luke says, eyes widening with his trademark mischievous grin, “when they get older, you and I can play pranks on them like Ryan and I do to you.”

Large doe eyes light up at that, Eliza always wanting to be a part of her big brother’s shenanigans. The new idea clearly excites her and the prospect of her becoming a mini-Luke is too exhausting for you to even consider.

Eliza next turns those big brown eyes on you, now looking a little more serious than excited. 

“Mama, can you make the baby a girl?”

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her request.

“I can’t control that, sorry kid,” you tell her with a small smile.

“I hope she’s a girl,” Eliza says, sounding more like she’s declaring what will be rather than what she wants. 

“No!” Luke protests with an overdramatic whine. “Ryan and I need another boy on our side.”

“I say it’s a girl,” Ryan says and it makes Luke drop his jaw and look at his older brother as if he’s a traitor. But, of course, it’s Luke, so another scheme pops into his brain.

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Oh, God,” you mumble, dropping your head forward to rest your forehead atop Eliza’s curls.

The older Munson brother appraises the younger, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. “What do you have in mind?”

“Loser gets a tattoo.”

“No,” Eddie immediately interjects. He didn’t mind the betting, but he wasn’t about to let one of his teenage sons choose something permanent to ink on his other teenage son for the rest of their lives.

“You have like 80 of them!” Luke whines at his father.

“But all my choice, none from a bet,” Eddie says. That may or may not be true, but he’s not about to give his impressionable son any ideas. “Next.”

“Loser wears a Care Bear onesie—with a hood—into a McDonald’s and eats lunch there,” Ryan says, pointing a finger in his brother’s direction.

Luke immediately accepts. “Deal. Winner picks the Care Bear costume.”

They shake on it and Eddie can’t help the amused smirk that dances on his lips.

“I cannot wait to see this.”

The bet now settled, Ryan turns to face you. “How far along are you?”

“Just eight weeks,” you say.

“Maybe we won’t find out if it’s a girl or boy beforehand. Just keep the suspense of the bet in the air until the birth,” Eddie muses. Of course he’s egging this on. 

“Can I name this baby too?” Ryan asks, eyes lighting up.

This question catches Eliza by surprise and her eyes widen comically as she stares at him.

“You named me?!”

“You’re lucky. Luke wanted to name you Donnie,” Ryan explains.

Eyes getting impossibly wider, your little girl looks up at you. “Mommy, don’t let Luke name the baby.”

With a laugh, you press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweet pea.”

Ryan lounges back on the couch, a smirk on his face as his eyes flit back and forth between you and Eddie.

“You know, I think you’re having this baby because I’ll be a senior next year and you don’t want an empty nest when I’m gone.”

“This is not how I envisioned this conversation going,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter.

“What did you want more of?” Luke asks. “Cheers? Tears? I’ll be happy to provide either way.”

Both of your sons start performing over-the-top expressions for Eddie, fake crying and grinning in glee, proving once and for all that they both inherited his dramatic gene. 

With a sigh bigger than you’d expect from such a small girl, Eliza snuggles back against you and places a small hand on your tummy. All three Munson men start cackling in laughter at something Luke did, but Eliza just looks up at you with a straight face.

“Boys,” you say with a shake of your head.

“Tha’s why I want baby to be a girl.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

[mybeautifuldelirium]

You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.

You Belong To Me || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy

Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?

Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end

Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.

During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.

Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.

It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.

“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.

“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”

Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.

It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.

This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.

The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.

Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.

“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.

She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.

The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.

“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.

These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.

“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.

“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”

“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.

“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”

“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.

“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.

Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond

[bones4thecats]

Omg you're on a writing spree!! Can I request for anubis, zerofuku and Loki with a reader who's very touch starve and like biting into their s/o neck or get bitten back? This is probably weird sksnodjd thank you In advance!!

A/N: I loved writing this! The version of Zerofuku I have chosen for this was Misfortune! Zerofuku (so dark him), since it woukd make more sense than Lucky! Zerofuku (light him) because he's basically a child in that form and 🤢. NOW! I hope you enjoy this!!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐶 This guy is one of the rare physically affectionate Gods in Valhalla, so when he heard or saw how touch-starved you were, he jumped into high-action

🐶 Anubis had been hugging you while resting in his temple one hot afternnoon

🐶 Despite the overwhelming temperatures, your husband seemed to be able to withstand these waves of hell like they were nothing

🐶 He was watching a scarab crawl on the floor as you held your head up and sunk your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he tilted his head

🐶 Anubis laughed as you let go and nuzzled into his chest

🐶 He figured you had grown into his habits, as he liked to nuzzle you and nibble, eventually leading to biting, you when bored and relaxing together

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

👻 Zerofuku and you didn't really have much to do when he wasn't spreading misfortune

👻 He was surprised when he didn't somehow infect you with misfortune, and he was also thankful that you didn't seem to run away from him when you got the chance

👻 Because of his minuscule amount of work relating to the Gods, Zerofuku had decided to take a day off from doing his stuff and switch to relaxing

👻 He looked at you and smiled gently as you were coddled in his hair and arms

👻 Your eyes fluttered open as he looked up at the sky and at the passing crane overhead, and you took your opportunity

👻 You bit into his neck as he gasped and covered his face, which was bursting into a dark red color, and he groaned in pain and pleasure

👻 Letting his flesh fall out from your mouth, you moved down to the hole in his chest, leaving kisses along the rim before laying back down in his arms with his hair against your smaller form

👻 It's official, you broke the God of Misfortune

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐍 This guy is definitely into a lot of crazy stuff

🐍 From biting to holding you in his lap with him shape-shifting into different people each time, this guy is a 50/50

🐍 50% of the time he is a sadist with you (though not as much as he is with others), and the other 50% he's a massive masochist

🐍 And today was one of those second 50% days

🐍 Loki was bored and hanging from a tree with you being held in his arms as he planned out his next prank against his cousin, Thor, and his uncle, Odin

🐍 You looked up, or rather down, at him and then at his neck before slowly moving towards the open flesh and bit into it roughly

🐍 Loki froze while he thought, his face lightning up and his eyes closing with a smile growing on his face

" Oh my little vixen, you're gonna regret that~ "

#Record of Ragnarok #RoR #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie #SnV #RoR Norse Pantheon #RoR Egyptian Pantheon #Record of Ragnarok Gods #RoR Gods #Record of Ragnarok x Reader #RoR x Reader #Shuumatsu no Valkyrie x Reader #SnV x Reader #RoR Norse Pantheon x Reader #RoR Egyptian Pantheon x Reader #Record of Ragnarok Gods x Reader #RoR Gods x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #RoR Anubis #RoR Anubis x Reader #RoR Zerofuku #RoR Zerofuku x Reader #RoR Loki #RoR Loki x Reader

[fluentmoviequoter]

Poisonously Bad Day

Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)

Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.

As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.

“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”

“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.

“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”

You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”

“I think you know.”

Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.

The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.

“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.

The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.

“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.

When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.

“Hey,” you say.

“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”

Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.

“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”

You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.

After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.

The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’

You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.

Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number. 

“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding. 

Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.

You are next.

Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.

Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.

“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.

“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”

“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”

“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”

Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.

“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”

As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.

✯✯✯✯✯

Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.

“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.

There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.

After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.

The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.

“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.

“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”

Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it. 

“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”

“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.

“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”

“I don’t think you should be alone.”

“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”

Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.

Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.

Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.

Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.

Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.

“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.

“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”

You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.

A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.

Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest. 

After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums. 

A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.

“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.

Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.

“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.

You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.

“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.

The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.

You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.

“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.

She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.

When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.

Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.

Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.

Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.

You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.

You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.

“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.

“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”

“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.

“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.

Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”

“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.

“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”

“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”

“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.

“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.

Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.

You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.

Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.

“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”

Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.

“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”

You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.

“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.

“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.

“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.

He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.

Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.

“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.

“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”

You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.

“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”

“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.

Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.

You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”

“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”

“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.

Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”

You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.

“You love me?”

Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”

You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.

“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.

Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”

“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.

“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”

You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.

“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”

You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.

Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.

“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”

Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”

You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”

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