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aesthetic-bbyg · 2 months

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HI I LOVE UR WORKS could I pls request like a mean dom ex bf Luke Castellan x fem reader who just canNOT get over him 🙏 it’s ok tho cuz we can get under him instead 😍 (smutty ofcccc)

DON’T STOP ~ L. CASTELLAN

lowk based of this p link

ex!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

🎀🤍 - It’s been awkward around camp since you and Luke broke up, even worse since you miss him so much..

Oral!fem receiving , Luke being a meanie , teasing , rough&dom!Luke , squirting , sum fluff at the end

EVEN THOUGH HE WAS YOUR EX, AND HE broke things of with you, you couldn’t help but stare at every chance you got. When he was practicing sword fighting with another camper, or when your gazes met at the picnic benches during breakfast.

And Luke hated this. It made his blood boil, those sweet looks you sent him. The innocent doe look as your round eyes widened each time he finally gave in and stared back. The few seconds he actually managed to make eye contact with you he saw that desire that he was all too familiar with swirl in your irises. Then again, it made him chuckle each time you turned away from his strong gaze, shyness overtaking you.

Yet, it made him cocky, knowing he still had that power over you despite breaking things off. It made him want to get closer and see just how much you blushed at his presence. He wanted to feel the way your body stiffened when he touched you, before eventually melting with each gentle caress. It was sick, how much pleasure it brought him to think about messing with you. But, he also couldn’t deny that he had his own desires that needed to be fulfilled. So it wasn’t all that twisted because part of that want for you was because of his own lust and not just his ego.

Even now, as Luke stares at you from across the field, his helmet adorning blue whilst yours red, he could sense that same desire seep from your body. He wanted to soothe that ache he knew pooled under those leggings you were wearing. He took the opportunity as he snuck through the trees like an animal, and saw you, guarding a red flag stuck into the dirt.

If you could even call it guarding. Your back was turned to him, picking at the flowers by your feet, you sat atop of a tree stump nearly dying of boredom. Your helmet and sword had been discarded and rest on the grass next to you. You gasped, feelings sharp tip dig into your back.

“You never learn.” A familiar voice that sent chills down your spine echoed into your ears. “How many times did I tell you, never get distracted.”

“Many times.” You replied, voice weak and small. You slowly turned your head, peeking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes holding that same doe eye look as you stared up at him innocently. He removed the faux sword from your back, squatting down to reach your height. “Luke.”

He took your chin between his fingers and thumb, staring intensely into your eyes. “You’re a stupid girl, y/n.” He leaned his so close that his lips nearly brushed over yours, “But so irresistible.”

You gulped down thickly, “Lu..”

“You’re not gonna be eating dinner tonight, you’re going to stay in your cabin.” Luke demanded, not even asking you, but stating it like it was a fact of the future.

“But—“ You stumbled over your words pathetically, breathing heavily against his pink lips that were so close and yet so far. “Luke.”

“It’s an order.” He stood up, tone cold and harsh as he ripped the flag from the ground and began walking away.

“Hey!” It was the loudest your feeble voice had been the whole interaction, your hands reaching for the sword by your side as he paused. “The whole point of the this game is to not let the opposing team win the flag.”

Luke let out a mocking laugh, turning around to look at your like you were dumb. “What, and you’re gonna fight me for it?”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance against the greatest swordsman of all of Camp Half-Blood, and yet you still allowed the words to slip your mouth. “Yes.”

He shook his head, tossing the flag aside. “Fine.” He readied his sword, pointing at you threateningly, “Have it your way.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, mimicking his actions and sucking in a deep breath. You truly couldn’t go against Luke even if you put all your might into it. You were a fool for even instigating a dual, and that same proclamation ended in you on your stomach, cheek digging into the grass with your sword knocked across the field. Luke held both your wrist behind your back, knees on either side of your hips as his hard on pressed against your backside.

“You’re a stupid girl.” He repeated his mean words from earlier, this time so close to your ear that his breath tickled the side of your face. His grip on your was getting painful, but it felt numb as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “You’ll learn one day.”

He stood up, releasing you from his grip as he walked away, picking the flag up and disappearing into the trees. You’re team was going to give you so much shit for this.

THIS IS STUPID, Luke Castellan was your ex. What type of control does he have that you had to listen to him? You’d been pacing around the empty cabin during dinner time for five minutes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat, sister?” One of your siblings asked before leaving, watching you with curiosity as you laid under the covers.

“Not tonight, I feel a little sick.” You lied, even mustering up a fake whine as you gripped your stomach. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” And within a few moments, she was gone, and you waited and waited, which left you to pacing. “Fuck this.” You stomped towards the door, deciding that you shouldn’t listen to him, because who was he? Ordering you to do what he wanted.

“Where are you going?” Luke asked smugly as his gaze met yours when you opened the door. “I told you to stay here.”

You stepped back slowly, “I was going to eat.” Your voice had become stronger, but that didn’t mean that your mind felt anymore confident when confronting the son of Hermes.

He shut the door, following each step you took backwards by stepping forward, his smirk very clear, even in the dark atmosphere. “But I told you not go, to wait for me here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna listen to everything you say, Luke.” You stopped, feeling your legs collided again the side of one of the bunk beds. It was yours, and you could tell by the curtains you had Luke nail onto the top for extra privacy. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

He let out another chuckle, something about your words had entertained him so much that he’d revealed his pearly canines. But in a split second it dropped, he hurled at you, pushing you against the bed and pining your arms above your head. You’d be lying if you said that this didn’t soak your panties almost immediately.

“I tell you do things, baby, ‘cause you don’t know how to do them yourself.” Luke whispered into your neck, planting sweet kisses along it’s curve and your shoulder. Then he began sucking, leaving bruises behind and then soothing them by licking gently against the purple skin. “Did I really fuck you so dumb that you just can’t comprehend when someone tells what to do.”

You sigh at his touch, “Stop calling me stupid, Luke.”

He huffed out a laugh, trailing further down your chest kissing at the tops of your tits that spilled out the white tank top you had on. “It’s what you are, I mean, you can hardly form a sentence when I just so much as look at you.”

You whine, “I can speak for myself.” You said in a whisper, tugging at the grip he had on your wrist.

He lifted his head from it’s spot in the valley of your tits. “Then tell me,” He took one hand, still restraining you with the other, “what do you want.” You went silent, brain going foggy as he inched a warm hand under your tank top, under your bra. “I said, what do you want me to do, stupid girl.”

You whined, “Fuck, I want you to eat me out.” Your tone was meant to come out a lot more stronger then it actually did, it nearly sounded like you were pleading.

“Aww, look at my girl, finally learning a new thing.” He cooed, letting go of your wrist and lifting his head from your chest. He caressed your face, eyes lowering down to your lips and inching closer just like how he did in the forest earlier. “I really meant it when I said your irresistible, baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, purposely avoiding your lips. “I‘ve missed your taste.”

“Then why have you been a dickhead and ignoring me since we broke up.” You muttered, bringing your now free hands to wonder up and down his toned arms. “You could’ve had me if you wanted me.”

He chuckled, “Trust me, I’ve been doing anything but ignoring.” He squeezed your hip, finally dipping his head to kiss you desperately. It was a messy and hot kiss, full of desire, clashing teeth, and tongue. Your hands had lifted to cup his face, eyes pressed shut as you took in this long awaited make out. Nothing could describe the lust that emitted from the kiss alone, how heavy the both of you inhaled through your nose, refusing to part your mouths and breath.

But it eventually had to come, Luke grew impatient and hungry as he was the first to pull away, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed roughly. He fell to his knees in a heartbeat, pulling off your shorts in one swift move and shoving your panties the side. He then folded your legs just enough so your whole cunt was exposed and openly glistening in the little bit of light that illuminated the cabin.

He nearly came just at the sight of it, leaning down to begin his feverish licking and sucking on your folds. You let out a surprised moan, not expecting him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. Your hand flew to his dark curls, the other gripping the pretty pink sheets you already knew were going to be ruined by the time he was finished.

After all, dinner time was a whole hour and thirty, giving him plenty of time to enjoy his meal without stop. Luke flicked his tongue in and out your hole teasingly before moving to suck on your clit loudly. The noises were disgusting, a sloppy combination of slurping and high pitched moans. He lightly shook his head against you, digging his features into you, his grip on your thighs tightening each time you attempted to push them down.

“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You moaned, legs trembling at the way he worked his tongue against you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You nearly screamed, your grip on his curls painful but he didn’t even mind it. He didn’t even flinch as you began to leak milky cum from your cunt, he just continued to lick at your sensitive bud. You did everything in your power to try and get him away, pushing at his shoulders, gripping his arms, shoving away his face, letting out choked whines of surrender. “I can’t—“ Each feeble attempt in getting your point across was interrupted by your own moans and squeaks as he brushed over your overstimulated clit.

You’re pussy was probably a mess of spit, cum, and arousal mixing together, yet something about that was so addictive to Luke. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear your pleas, or that he was ignoring them, he truly couldn’t pull away. He was letting animalistic groans each times he swiped his tongue onto your pussy, letting the wetness fill his taste buds.

He couldn’t help it when he just pushed your legs closer to your chest whenever you squirmed and attempted to push the closed. He heard you whines and it only fed his own pleasure, his licks became quicker, more messy if that was even possible. He was out of breath and heaving, yet didn’t pull back for a second, he just kept stuffing his face back into your cunt. He noted the way you nearly screamed whenever he fucked his tongue into and rolled with it, repeating the motion as his nose stimulated your clit.

With that you were letting out the most pornographic moans he’d ever heard come from you. Your attempts to shove him away for noticeably more frantic and aggressive, you’re whines, despite being almost unintelligible, begged for him to stop. There was a overwhelmingly tight coil in your stomach that just felt different compared to your last orgasm, it went from your stomach and moved down in waves. Before you could let another push to his shoulder you threw your head back and gripped the sheets desperately. You heard a gentle squelch, very faint but it made your eyes widen in horror as you sat up at stared down at Luke.

He finally pulled away, wiping away at the wetness that dropped down his chin and onto his neck. He fell back on his knees, a drowsy smirk on his lips and heavy eyelids that stared back at you. You squirted, and all over his face at that. “Fuck.” Was all he could mutter, biting his lower lip as he stared at you. “That was..so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands as you groaned. “I made a mess.”

He leaned up, removing your hands and lightly pecking your lips. “A beautiful mess, baby.” He whispered, “I bet I can make it happen again.”

“No!” You squeezed your legs shut, shoving his shoulder as he laughed, gently caressing your thigh. “Dinner is almost over and you need to leave before anyone notices you were here in the first place.”

“I don’t care if they see me, they probably already heard you.” He stood up, making you notice the painful bulge that outline the cargo shorts he had on.

“Oh, fuck, Luke.” You whispered. He didn’t have to ask what you were referring to with your pitiful tone as you stared at his hardened dick without shame.

“Don’t worry about.” He reassured, digging into his pocket to pull out a picture. “I’ve got you to help me out later in the night.” With closer examination, you noticed that it was an old photo that he’d taken months before the breakup. You laid down on a bed, shirt lifted just enough to show your tits, legs spread open with a cock shoved in your cunt.

“You’re dirty.” You slapped his leg, but a sheepish smile betrayed any ounce of annoyance you were trying to display. You leaned down to grab your shorts, but before you put them back on you paused. You looked up at Luke, who wasn’t paying attention as he slipped the photo back into his side pocket, and then at your lap. You stood up and slipped out of your panties, balling them up and offering it to Luke like a present. “You can have ‘em, they’re ruined because of you anyway and it could be useful for helping you later.”

Luke let out a chuckle, not even blinking as he took them and shoved them into his pocket. “Thank you.” He took your waist, his hand trailing down to the plush cheeks of your ass and squeezing the flesh. He leaned into close of the night with a another hungry kiss, except he replaced the painful lust with love and devotion. He regretted ever letting you escape his arms, and knew that he wouldn’t do it again, no matter what. He kneeled down, picking up the shorts he’d discarded and lightly kiss your thigh, you stepped into them, watching with admiration as he dragged them back up.

“I love you.” You weren’t sure if maybe it was too soon to confidently say the words once more but part of you didn’t care.

Luke didn’t know either, but he definitely knew in his whole heart that he didn’t give a fuck. “I love you too.” You walked to the cabin door, feeling a pool of dread as he opened it and slowly let go of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded, giving him a smile before he was gone, the door shutting completely with a quiet click.

“Hey, Luke, where were ya?” You heard a fellow camper call out just moments after Luke’s exit. “Didn’t get some dinner before bed?”

“Nah, man, don’t worry.” Luke shrugged it off, he voice getting more faint the farther he went, but you definitely heard him say: “I already ate.”

Natti speaks !!: I actually ended up liking this way more than I thought so a big thank u to the person who sent this request in🫶🏼🫶🏼 Luke Castellan is js to fine and he needs to be stopped.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

#luke castellan blurb #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan smut #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #Natti’s works 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 #percy jackson and the olympians show #charlie bushnell #Charlie bushnell x reader

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solar-wing · 5 months

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⚣ Five & One 💪🏻

⚣💪🏻 A/N → This is a re-post and, once again, it was inspired by this post by @gone-batty-fics. I'm leaving the full NSFW version up here since it's not that much, so no need for an extra link. I hope you guys enjoy reading this around a second time and sorry if any of you have been missing it. This was my most popular post on my previous account and I'm sad I gotta start it over, but oh well. WARNINGS: Breathplay/Choking, Implied Size Kink, Jealous and Possessive Behavior, Rough Anal, Violence, etc.

⚣💪🏻 Summary → Five times people thought you needed rescuing from your boyfriend, Jason Todd. And the one time, someone needed rescuing from you.

⚣💪🏻 Words → 7.8k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!

⚣ ENJOY 💪🏻

Okay, you got it.

Your boyfriend was a very intimidating and scary guy when he wanted to be. But, that didn’t mean people had to keep asking you if you needed saving like you were some damsel in distress. You weren’t even a damsel! You were a damsmen. Damsman? A Damson?

Oh, forget it. Point still stands, people needed to stop treating you like you needed rescuing. You were fine! Besides, when he wasn’t out hunting criminals, Jason was literally the least threatening person in the world. It was you bitches should be worried about! And if bitches didn’t believe you, bitches could just find out on their own.

Bitch.

The first time wasn’t bad. You considered it actually sweet and could see how under the circumstances someone was not aware of the dynamic between you and the vigilante.

It was a sunny day in Gotham for once. Everyone was out, enjoying the sunshine while having barbecues in the parks, strolling down the street in sunhats and sandals, and going swimming at the local pools. You were no different, seeing the usual moody and depressing atmosphere absent from the sky and deciding immediately to take advantage of it and drag your boyfriend Jason out, making the whole day a date between you two.

You and Jason decided on simple outfits since the sun was out and the temperatures were warmer than usual. You decided on a regular button-up, leaving the top three buttons down to show some skin, which your boyfriend both loved and hated since he could ogle your chest with no shame, but anyone else could do the same. You paired it with some boat shoes and simple shorts that did an excellent job hugging your ‘boo-twah,’ a nickname Jason gave your ass for its large-hand-friendly size, as he liked to say.

“Instead of like boo-tee, it’s boo-TWAH. It’s just out there.” He explained one morning when you had spent the night at his place. Jason, sitting and ogling at his boyfriend in his well-fitted yoga pants and sleeveless hoodie while you made breakfast.

“You are such a nerd.” You laughed at him.

“Well, this nerd scored big,” He responded before landing a heavy smack on your behind, which you chastised him for since he made you almost fling the eggs you were scrambling out of the pan.

Back to the sunny day, Jason dressed simply too but was more relaxed than you. He went for a comfortable pair of joggers, one of his nicer gym shoes, and a tank top covered by a sleeveless hoodie since he got hot easily.

A few months after you and Jason got together, he told you about his double life and his family’s. It explained why when he would spend the night at your house a few times, you’d play doctor while wondering where he was getting all these bruises and wounds. As you and Jason grew closer and began to explore your ‘interest’ in each other’s bodies, you’d find he was actually shy about his body even though the man was built like a tank.

It wasn’t necessarily his body he was ashamed of. It was his scars he actually didn’t like. All things he saw as painful reminders of his more than rough past, especially the bigger ones he had received from Joker. You were patient with him and reminded him at every possible chance that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of. Instead, they were to be celebrated and seen as trophies. Reminders that in the face of everything thrown at him, he came out on top stronger than ever.

Over time, Jason became more confident and comfortable in his body. He bought more shirts, tank tops, and shorts that showed his arms, chest, and legs. Even going as far as cutting the sleeves off some of his hoodies since you owned many pairs, and he loved how they looked on you. He’d prefer to wear yours, but since you were much smaller than him, he’d end up stretching or ripping them. Now, you were no dainty stick or anything like that. You had some meat on your bones and were taller than the average guy. But again, Jason is built like a tank and very much dwarfed you in size.

You weren’t complaining.

He also loved the benefit of the sleeveless hoodies as they made him look more intimidating, which helped whenever he noticed other guys and girls at the gym ogling you a little too long for his liking. He didn’t care who it was, Jason would always look out for and protect you.

Yet, others seemed to see it differently as you walked down the street in Gotham, going in and out of the various stores. You were both sipping on some slushies while chatting about whatever, Jason holding your shopping bags in one hand. You tried to snatch the bags from him multiple times since you didn’t want to feel like Jason was your butler or servant. Besides, you worked out too. Look at your arms! You could carry Jason if you wanted to.

Okay, yes, you knew that was a lie but you were allowed to dream. You’d get there…someday.

“Jason, give me my bag. I can carry it myself!” You said, trying to reach for the bag again.

“Sorry, Bugs, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to carry anything in my presence. Well, except my love for you. That’s heavy enough as it is.” Jason said with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s corny behavior and another one of his nicknames for you. You’d made the mistake of bringing Jason around your best friend during a study session for one of your classes. He revealed your childhood obsession with Looney Tunes and how many times when you reacted to a situation, you were a carbon copy of Bugs Bunny with his sarcasm and behavior.

“Get away from me dude,” You said, putting distance between yourself and the brick wall of a man.

“Ah, get back here.”

Jason grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to his side, nuzzling his face into your neck while tickling your sides.

“Jason, stop!” You shouted in laughter, trying to push him away.

“Never! You are now my hostage.” He joked back with you.

You stood there for a few more seconds wrestling with each other on the sidewalk. Someone should really scold you two for acting so cutesy and loving out and public like that. WE GET IT! You’re in love! Stop rubbing it in our faces.

When you broke apart, you found yourselves outside a bookstore. You saw Jason’s eyes light up even if his face didn’t show it. He turned towards you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes and pout.

“Oh, get in there you dork. But, don’t max out your dad’s credit card!” You said, successfully pushing him off you.

He leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips before shooting into the store like the Flash. “No promises!” He yelled over his shoulder.

While he was in the store living out his childhood fantasy, you decided to let your ankles rest since you had been on them for a few hours. Jason offered to carry you at one point, and though it was tempting, you declined.

You sat on a nearby bench while scrolling on your phone for a bit. Your head shot up when you spotted someone approaching you from the street. It was two girls, both who looked to be in their late 20s to early 30s, carrying concerned looks on their faces.

“Hi!” You spoke with a smile, waving to the women walking up to you.

“Hey, are you okay?” One of them asked when they got to you.

Now, you had a confused expression on yours.

“I’m sorry?” You responded with a puzzled eyebrow raised.

“We were across the street when we saw that guy grabbing you. We can walk with you to the police station if he’s harassing you.” The other woman said.

‘Were these chicks on crack?’ You thought.

“Um, I think there’s been some confusion–” You started but was interrupted by the door swinging open, an excited Jason springing out of the store.

“BABE! THEY’VE GOT A MINT-CONDITIONED PRIDE & PREJUDICE! Can I get it?! Please!!!” Jason shouted while running up to you and grabbing you by your arms.

You could barely keep off the amused smile on your face while looking around your boyfriend’s shoulder to see the two girls looking shocked and embarrassed by your giant for a boyfriend, begging you for a book like a kid.

Jason turned around as well, seeing the two women staring at you two while he just pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.

“Who are your friends, Bugs?”

“Just some nice girls being friendly,” You answered before using your hand to turn Jason’s head back toward you. “Don’t you already have three copies at home, Jason? Why do you need another?”

“Okay, but those are all old copies and are falling apart. This one is BRAND NEW! Never been opened. Please!!!”

You could only sigh at his antics before turning back to the girls, “I’m fine, ladies. But, thank you for asking.”

They both nodded with embarrassment before walking off down the street, Jason watching them with a confused expression before looking down at you.

“What was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it.

This one also wasn’t so bad, but it was still annoying.

Your parents were out of town for a month for their anniversary, so you invited Jason over. When he got there and saw how your cupboards and fridge were damn near empty, he was upset at you for not telling him you had no food and your parents for not supplying you with anything.

Truth be told, they literally just forgot to go before they left. Jason always wondered where you got your forgetfulness from. Now, he knew.

So, he dragged you to your local wholesale store once again with his adoptive father’s credit card to stock and load your cabinets so you wouldn’t go hungry. Well, really so, Jason wouldn’t go hungry since he would be spending a lot of time at your place now. Again, the man was like a mountain, so of course, he ate like one.

You had been in the store for about 15 minutes, and already your cart was damn near half-full.

“Jay, don’t you think this is enough? We don’t have to get a bunch of stuff today.” You voiced, eyeing the growing basket with concern.

“Bugs, you can’t stay in your house for a month and not have any food. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you go hungry?” He responded while grabbing four boxes of your favorite cereal brands off the shelf and placing them neatly in the basket.

If it’s one thing that shocked you to learn about Jason was that he was very clean and organized with anything. You expected that trait more out of his brothers like Tim or Damian. But in truth, Tim was more of an organized chaos type of guy, and Damian was very simplistic, so he didn’t really need to organize much, except for his drawings and paintings, which he sometimes left scattered all over his desk.

Dick was a mess that couldn’t be saved. God bless the soul that ended up with that man.

But Jason was the cleanest out of all of them. The man could barely go two days without scrubbing down or re-organizing something. Again, you weren’t complaining. Every time he came over, he’d clean your room without you even asking.

“Okay, but my parents did leave me money to order out. Plus, I don’t want Bruce thinking I’m using you for money, or anything like that, especially since you keep taking his credit card.” You pointed out to which your boyfriend scoffed in response.

“Please, as much as that man has put me through, maxing out his credit card is the last thing he’s worried about me doing. And don’t worry, he and the rest of the family love you. Honestly, if it wasn’t for you dating me and the fact that you have great parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if the old man didn’t try to adopt you, which, if I haven’t mentioned this already, I don’t recommend.” He finished while heading further down the breakfast food aisle and grabbing boxes of Pop-Tarts.

“Fourth time.” You stated. Jason does not hold back regarding his tense relationship with his adoptive parent.

That was something you’d also been watching him work on.

When Jason met your parents and saw the relationship between your father and you, it opened up an emotional wound he wasn’t prepared for. And though he still had some resentment toward the Billionaire Playboy, aka the Dark Knight, for not sending Joker to the seventh ring of hell after his death, it didn’t mean he didn’t still care for and love the man. He just had mental blocks he needed to work through, and you’d be there to support him.

Jason was about to give you one of his dorky responses until he realized he forgot the credit card in your car.

“Shoot, I forgot the card in the car. Where’re your keys?” He asked.

You handed them to him, and he gave you a quick kiss and a slap on the ass with a warning to not put anything back before rushing towards the entrance/exit of the store. Rolling your eyes, you moved down the aisle scoffing at his warning. Of course, he knew you were going to try and put some of the items back. Just like you knew him better than himself sometimes, it was the same for him with you. He could predict your next move before it popped into your head which you found very cute but extremely annoying at times.

While you stood there for a few moments scrolling on your phone out of boredom, you heard a voice speak up behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You turned around to see two guys around your age standing behind you. You figured they were trying to get to something behind you, so you moved yourself and your cart out of the way.

“Oh, my bad. Here ya go.”

“No, no! Not that. We were just wondering if you needed help getting your car or getting away from that guy. We saw him drag you in here.”

You barely held back the eye roll that was itching in your skull. Yes, Jason did somewhat have to drag you into the store since you insisted that you didn’t need to go grocery shopping. But, what happened to common sense? If Jason truly was holding you hostage or had bad intentions for you, why in the world would he bring you to a grocery store out of all places?!

Seriously, what were they thinking? That he was going to stick a Fruit-Loops box over your head and torture you with your most hated juice flavor?

A small sigh escaped your mouth before you responded to the boys, “Okay, this is not what it looks like. That guy is my boyfriend, and we’re just grocery shopping. I promise I’m fine.” You assured the guys.

“Are you sure? He isn’t forcing you to say any of this, right? I know that guy’s intimidating, but we can call security or the police to help you.”

Before you could respond, you both heard the sounds of quick footsteps approaching from around the corner. You turned to see him holding a plate with two large slices of pepperoni pizza and a large orange soda.

“Babe, I got you two slices of pizza and your favorite soda from the food court. I know you haven’t eaten today, so I figured you could snack on this, and then we can get you some chicken tenders and fries from your favorite restaurant after we leave here.” He offered while handing you the plate, looking at you with the most adoring gaze.

This boy really did have your whole heart. You could only wonder what you did to deserve someone like him.

When Jason took note of the two other guys standing by you looking dumbfounded, his arm instantly found its way around your waist, pulling you into his side while eyeing the two boys suspiciously and on guard. Anyone that wasn’t your parents, best friend, or his family, Jason saw as a potential threat. Even his family sometimes was included in that list a few times, and living in Gotham, you could never be too careful.

And any excuse for Jason to show you as his to anyone else watching was always an appreciated opportunity.

“Can I help you, fellas?” Jason said, a stern tone in his voice while eyeing the two down with every menacing look he could muster in his eyes.

You’ve never seen two guys who looked like they wanted to shit their pants so bad and run in the opposite direction. They started stuttering out a response before you took pity on them.

“They’re fine, Jay. They were just trying to grab some cereal behind me. I was just moving out of their way.” You threw a look toward the boys, who looked at you confused before they caught on to what you were trying to say.

“Y-Yeah m-man. Just ... um gra-grabbing some Frosted flakes.” One of the dudes said, pointing his fingers toward the boxes right behind you.

Jason eyed that finger with malice before he felt your fingers turning his face toward you.

“Hey, stop it. I’m good. Now, are you going to let them get their cereal and let me eat my pizza before it gets cold?”

A small smile crossed his face while he backed you both up moving the cart as well. You ruffled his hair watching the two boys grab a box and run down the aisle with their tails between their legs. He let out his usual whine, using his other arm to fix his hair.

“Shut up, you big baby. You promised me chicken tenders and fries, so get a move on before I get a food attitude.”

Jason smirked at your words before the hand around your waist moved to your butt, palming and squeezing your cheeks under the ‘hoochie’ shorts you were wearing.

“I know something better that’ll fill you up and take care of that attitude for you.” He whispered in your ear before giving a nip.

At least you weren’t in front of the salads when this was happening.

This wasn’t bad. It was actually funny, and you got a friend out of it.

You and Jason were at the gym, getting a workout in. You decided you both liked going in the afternoon when it was less busy. It was leg and glutes day for you (per usual) while Jason was working chest and shoulders.

Two of your favorite body parts on him, including his arms, but that’s not important.

Now, you both agreed when you went to the gym that you would do your workouts separately but your warm-ups and cardio together. So, at some point, Jason was on the Smith machine doing a shoulder bench press while you were on another bench doing Bulgarian split squats.

Of course, the gym was a place where people met each other all the time. And, in many of those meetings and interactions, people would find others attractive and want to date or hook up with them. You were no exception to these rules. You were approached many times by both girls and guys, but you always politely declined. Well, you tried at least before Jason walked over and made it clear who you were with.

It was no secret to anyone that Jason did not only get easily jealous at the thought of you giving your attention and time away to someone who was not him, but he was also the living definition of anger issues. Match that with his very selfish and possessive attitude towards you, and you had a man ready and WILLING to do just about anything to anyone who dared lay a finger on you in the wrong way.

So, whenever someone deemed themselves stupid brave enough to approach you and flirt a little or leave a teasing touch to one of your arms, you’d try to give them a warning but it was always too late. They’d quickly find a towering shadow looming over them and turned to see a less than pleased Jason staring down at them with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. These being one of the few moments Jason gladly showed off his scars because they communicated his message quickly and effectively.

Back. The. Fuck. Off.

That was usually enough to get them to do just that. Most of the time, at least.

There always ended up being at least one guy or girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. This time, it was a guy who kept finding himself next to you during your sets. Jason was watching you from afar with hooded and irritated eyes as he also noticed your gym shadow moving around with you.

The guy decided to play smart and keep his hands off you since he could tell your brute of a boyfriend was watching his every move. The only reason he didn’t do anything was because he knew if he did, the guy could claim Jason as the aggressor, and since this was your favorite gym because your college’s gym was always crowded, he didn’t want to risk you getting in trouble and banned.

So, when Jason went to the bathroom, the creep took advantage of the moment and offered to ‘spot’ you on your set of squats with the smith machine, which you were sure was just an excuse for him to get behind you so he could ogle your ass and ‘accidentally’ grind his dirty crotch into it.

Luckily, a girl working out nearby noticed your uncomfortable stance when the man came over to ‘help’ you while you were setting up and immediately stopped her workout to shoo him away.

“Dude, he’s clearly not interested. So either go and finish your workout or pack up and get out!”

He tried to get defensive and argue with her, but when she revealed her boyfriend was one of the owners and threatened to have him kicked out and banned, he finally backed off. He made sure to point out how you weren’t even all the hot anyway to mask his hurt pride while you threw an appreciative look toward her.

When he left and Jason returned from the bathroom, the girl unleashed her rage on him as well.

“And you too! I’ve seen you harassing and stalking him all over the gym. I’ll kick your ass out too and have you banned if you don’t leave him alone.” She scolded the dark-haired man.

Jason looked confused while you just laughed before grabbing his arm and pulling him to you, “Nah, don’t worry about him. This one’s good.” You said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, even though you had to stretch a little bit.

Jason pouted down at you in childish anger, “I told you don’t do that! Do you know how long it takes to get this in the right floppy position?” He whined while trying to fix his hair.

She looked back and forth between you two before realization dawned upon her.

“Boyfriend who’s a menace to everyone but is a total baby when around you?”

You gasped, “Girl, how’d you know?”

“Mine’s the exact same.”

“Oh, we’re gonna be great friends.” You declared.

Okay, this time, it was lowkey your fault, but still. People should be able to tell the difference between an actual cry for help and a joke.

Jason decided to take you to one of his favorite cafes in Gotham since you were in desperate need of a study break. You picked up some classes over the summer, so the schedule was much more tightly packed since they had to speed up a four-month course into two with the semester being divided into two sections.

Jason was sitting on one of the lounge chairs reading while you were sipping on some apple juice and reading a fanfic story on your phone. Whether or not it was smut was not important and nobody would be able to tell by the look on your face. At least until you read over one particular part that had you gasping out loud which managed to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You quickly said, liking the fic quickly and closing the browser, knowing Jason was not going to drop it.

“Uh uh, Bugs. What were you looking at?” He asked, setting his book on the table and moving over to your side of the table.

“Nothing Jay! I promise it was nothing.”

“Oh really? So you wouldn’t mind if I looked at your phone then?”

You felt your cheeks heat up while Jason took notice of your tense stance, peering at you and your phone while slowly leaning toward you from his crouched stance.

“Let me see your phone.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone.”

“I said no.”

“Bugs,” Jason said, now mocking a stern look on his face, “Give. Me. Your. Phone.”

He held out his hand for emphasis, and you felt your fingers reflexively tighten around your smart device. You stared back at him with your own dour expression, “No. Means. No.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he suddenly grabbed at your phone, attempting to snatch it from your hand. It became a tug-of-war over the device while you both consciously tried not to be too much of a disturbance to the other patrons of the cafe.

This is where it accidentally was your fault.

“Help! Assault! Violence! Thief!”

You thought you were shouting it quietly, but there was a reason your family always told you to quiet down when you thought you were speaking at a normal volume. You got it from your mother really. Strong voices and all…

“Dude, fucking back off!”

You both heard the deep voice shout before you watched a guy tackle Jason to the ground, feeling hands coming to your side.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” This random brunette said while checking you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You were FINE. However, you were worried as hell now. Not for Jason at all, cause… Well, ya know.

You were scared for the other guy that had tackled Jason. Your boyfriend did NOT do well with physical touch, considering how long it took him to get comfortable with just cuddling with you. Let alone sudden physical touch? And the man is used to fighting criminals at night and having to be on guard 24/7 if he feels something suddenly grab or touch him? Yeah, you were hoping this didn’t end in a trip to the precinct like last time.

Don’t ask.

“I’m fine. But, I do suggest you quickly get your friend off my boyfriend before he has to go to the hospital.” You assured the girl while warning her at the same time.

She looked at you confused, “Boyfriend? Wait, huh? We thought that guy was attacking you and trying to steal your phone. And don’t worry, my boyfriend’s a professional kickboxer. He can handle him.”

‘Yeah. Mine has anger issues and was trained by Batman and can re-load two guns in under twenty seconds with his arms tied behind his back.’

“AH!”

You both turned your heads to see Jason holding the other guy in a chokehold while looking up at you.

“Aww, man! He spilled my coffee over my book.” Jason whined, “Babe, can you get me another one, please?”

“Yes, Jason. Can you do me a favor and let him go before you break his neck?”

Jason rolled his eyes before releasing the guy, who went into a coughing fit on the ground as he caught his breath.

When he sat back at the table as the girl went to help her boyfriend off the floor after giving you both weird looks, he set your phone on the surface, eyeing you with a quizzical look.

“What?” You asked after he stared at you for a few more minutes.

“Really? Yandere?”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you were ready to bolt for the door.

“So, all those times you swore you weren’t trying to make me jealous just to get a reaction outta me, were you actually just trying to get me to tie you up and lock you in my room?” He said with a dark look in his eyes and a cheeky smirk on his lips.

HOT BOY DOWN! I REPEAT, HOT BOY DOWN!

Now, this was just ridiculous. Of course, it made sense, but you were thoroughly pissed off when it happened.

You and Jason had returned to his apartment after having dinner with his family at Wayne Manor. Bruce decided he wanted to have at least one family dinner a month, and since you were considered an honorary Wayne and everyone loved you, of course, you were invited. Jason, on the other hand, was still hesitant.

Even though he was working on his relationship with Bruce and trying to move past his mental scars, his family still brought up some sensitive subjects for him. Typically, they made his insecurities flare up a lot more. You were Jason’s safe space. So, he wasn’t really keen on mixing the things that made him question himself and the person who made him feel the most loved and secure together.

You didn’t push, still wanting to go at his pace and let him bring you around more when he was ready. The day of the dinner, you figured he either had a change of heart or somebody had talked to Jason and convinced him to bring you along, and you had a great time. Jason was a bit quiet throughout the evening, but you could see a small part of him was happy at seeing how you integrated well into his family dynamic. He took great pleasure in how you humbled Dick a few times as well.

But, something was off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. You knew Jason was usually the quieter one out of the rest of his siblings. When you were around, he showed more of his goofiness and playful side. You barely saw that at all tonight. You knew he was watching you as you made conversation with Bruce, argued back and forth with Damian, repeatedly told Tim he needed to get more sleep, snapped photos with Steph, joked with Duke, and even learned a little sign language from Cass.

He watched as you offered to help Alfred with the dishes, who respectfully declined, but did make his appreciation known to you and the others, especially Tim.

“I offer to help you sometimes, Alfred!” Tim shouted while chasing after the butler offering his help.

Usually, Jason would laugh at any moment that came at the expense of Tim’s sanity.

None of that happened.

So, when you got back to his place, you asked him what was wrong. He remained silent as he just looked at you, but you could see there was a storm behind his eyes. When you came up to rub his arm and hug him, his hands shot up to your neck, wrapping around it firmly but not tight to where you couldn’t breathe.

Your hands grabbed his wrists as he maneuvered you against the wall that connected the living room to the kitchen. He placed his lips roughly on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth while never loosening his hold on your neck.

“Mine. Not theirs, mine.” He muttered against your lips before quickly taking his hands off your neck, ripping your clothes off while ridding himself of his.

In less than two minutes, Jason had you pressed back against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his long and girthy member tucked deep inside your ass, fucking you with hard and menacing thrusts. His large and rough hands were back around your neck, now squeezing around your neck as you moaned breathlessly against him.

Jason took immense pride in your sounds of satisfaction and whining, increasing his already brutal pace in your guts while slowly stealing more of your breath away. Jason’s hard breaths pounded against your face as he stared at your now sweaty and ragged body, limping weakly against him. You placed your arms on his shoulder but were careful to avoid his neck, knowing that along with some other areas on his body were off-limits unless specified otherwise.

This was the dynamic between you two always. Anyone could see how Jason was wrapped around your finger in public and even in private whenever you two were just lounging around and relaxing. In these moments, you were fully under Jason’s authority. You lay completely at his mercy while he dominated your body and controlled where, when, and how you got pleasured.

The who rarely came into question as though your boyfriend had considered it a few times, you didn’t see a day likely where Jason’s jealousy and possessiveness would let him allow someone else to see you in this manner. No, you were for his eyes only.

And the why, well that was simple. Jason had needs, you had needs. And, no one was better suited to fulfill those needs than your boyfriend. Though with him, anything could spark those needs at any given time. Whether the dark-haired boy was just feeling horny and wanted some ass. You decided to wear a tempting outfit, and he decided he was going to right then and there he would have you, whether in the house, in the car, or in public, it didn’t matter. If he felt you were being a little too friendly with someone else, he’d be happy to remind you about who you belonged to. The why was simple; if Jason wanted you, he would have you. No ifs, and’s, or but’s about it.

“J-Jason... nngh p-please-” You begged, feeling yourself nearing the edge as your dick was crushed between Jason and your hot and sweaty abdomens.

“Say my name again,” He ordered, feeling how he flexed his dick inside you while still pounding your sore hole.

His name fell from your lips in a needy moan as you felt his fingers pressing against your windpipes. You could feel how the wall behind you became slick from your sweat as your body jutted up and down against it with Jason’s increasingly erratic thrusts.

He grunted in approval of your increasingly loud whines as you both approached your climaxes. Jason fully squeezed your neck at this point as he punched your insides with his cock. Your own member was feeling the pressures as well as it repeatedly smashed against Jason’s abs before you reached your end, screaming out in blissful agony.

Jason came to his finish with his own groan as you felt him bury himself with his cum deep inside you. You let out soft little whines feeling his appendage throb against your walls. Even though you knew he didn’t like hands around his neck, he didn’t object to you rubbing a hand down his nape. He gave you a warning glance at first, but when he felt your soft hands rubbing up and down his skin, he visibly relaxed, placing a kiss on your cheek.

The quiet and sweet moment though was abruptly ruined by the sound of Jason’s front door being kicked in and heavy boots rushing into his apartment.

“GOTHAM P.D.!” You heard the intruders shout.

Of all the fucking things…

Well, when the cops came around and found you and your naked boyfriend against the wall, and his hands around your neck, you had to admit it didn’t look good.

You had to quickly explain to the officers it wasn’t what it looked like and that everything was consensual. Against the orders of the cops, Jason did not move one inch off the wall, keeping your body covered with his. He’d sooner dip himself in another Lazarus Pit than let these arrogant blue caps have even the smallest peek at you.

So, with a little charm and finesse, you convinced the cops to walk out and let you and him get dressed. Jason couldn’t decide what he was more upset about.

The fact that his door was off its hinges, or that one of his neighbors called the cops on him thinking Jason had been abusing you, or that your private moment was intruded upon and some pervy cops basically saw you naked.

Yeah, he was going to be extra brutal on patrol tonight.

After a call was made to Commonionser Gordon at Jason’s request, the cops dropped everything and left you two alone when Gordon made it clear this was a bogus call. “Jason? Abusing Y/N? That boy is the biggest simp this city’s ever seen. Whoever called that in was obviously misinformed.”

Even if it was true, Jason didn’t appreciate being called a simp. He didn’t deny it, though.

You could barely hold back your laughs to which your boyfriend responded with a harsh smack to your very sore ass. It was a wonder how you were even standing on your legs as they still felt like jelly.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see him in that manner.”

“No way, he’s way too sweet and innocent to be like that.”

“Dude, have you met your own boyfriend?”

These were all things said to Jason when he would complain to them about how he was tired of everyone thinking he was a threat to you and not seeing the truth. If anything, you were more of a threat to Jason and honestly, should be placed on a national security watch list for some of the things that have come out of your mouth.

The only one who really knew and understood what Jason was talking about was your best friend, who was the first one to warn Jason. The boy didn’t believe him either at first and ended up finding out the hard way.

Well, it looked like Jason’s brothers were also about to find out as they had come to your school’s campus looking for him. You were happy to see the Wayne siblings, as some time had passed since the last dinner. For some reason, seeing how easily you interacted with his brothers drove up Jason’s jealousy to a new level. As soon as they showed up, Jason placed you on his lap, and you could feel his prominent bulge throbbing under you. You knew immediately you were in for it when you both got home.

When you got up to go to the bathroom, Jason was going to follow you, intending to give you a little preview of what to expect in the stalls, but was stopped by Dick, who said they had something important they needed to talk to him about.

Before that could happen, a new presence appeared at your table, and your best friend visibly and audibly groaned at who it was.

“Hi there.” Jason heard a sickly sweet voice say, turning to see another boy he’d heard of.

“Xavion.” Jason heard your best friend mutter under his breath.

He knew that name. He’d heard you curse it and mutter it in irritation and anger plenty of times. He purposefully went out of his way to piss you off and pick with you on multiple occasions. He also thought that because his dads were rich and gave him everything he wanted, he was entitled to anything and everything, including other people’s significant others.

No one knew what started the rivalry between you two, but they knew it got cemented when he had sex with your first college boyfriend while you guys were dating and then went on to sleep with any guy you had the slightest attraction to.

So, Jason would be no different when he placed himself a little too close for the dark-haired boy’s liking, trying to maneuver himself away.

“I’ve seen you around on campus before. Are you a student here?”

“Xavion, don’t you have someone else to harass and stalk?” Your best friend commented with an irritated eye roll.

The boy in question only threw a dirty glance at your comrade before turning back to your boyfriend, taking considerable delight in looking him up and down, “Damn, aren’t you a big boy. You’re Y/N’s boyfriend, right? Gotten bored yet?”

Everyone tensed at that, watching how Xavion only got bolder in his flirting, “I’d understand if you did. Y/N’s just not that interesting, and honestly, a little ran through. I’d be happy to show you other options though,” He voiced with a suggestive tone.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched with slightly nervous eyes as the promiscuous boy moved his hand that was caressing Jason’s arm and placed it around his neck, waiting for the ball to drop as the second Wayne kid's hands began to twitch on the table.

Before anyone could move to stop it, they saw Xavion get literally yanked off of Jason and onto the ground. Your boyfriend and his siblings along with your best friend who began to cheer your name watched as you dragged the slut onto the ground by the back of his shirt and proceeded to WHALE on him.

No one had noticed you coming back from the bathroom, too busy watching Xavion rub his hands all over your boyfriend. When you got closer and saw what was happening, you immediately saw red and picked up your pace, only to dash into a mad sprint when you saw his hand touch Jason’s neck.

Jason after breaking out of his stunned trance immediately ran over to pull you off the screaming boy who was crying for help. Dick and Tim ran over to pull Xavion out of your grasp, just barely managing to save him from what would have been a devastating kick from your boot to his face.

“Touch my boyfriend again and see what happens bitch!” You shouted out at the boy. Luckily, you were in a secluded part of campus, so no one had seen the fight. But, when Xavion had gotten off the ground looking thoroughly fucked up, he tried to run up on you, seeing Jason holding you back and thinking he had an open shot.

Little did he or Jason expect, you used your smaller stature to slip out of Jason’s hold and rushed the boy before kicking your leg up and landing that hit that was taken from you earlier. You took sick satisfaction hearing and feeling the crunch under your foot as it connected with his nose.

Dick, Tim, and Damian watched in complete shock seeing you beat the shit out of this boy. Now, they could really see why you and Jason were such a good match for each other.

When Jason got you back in his arms, he made sure to hold on a little tighter to you so you couldn’t slip away again. Dick and Tim had to help the sobbing boy cradling his broken nose, saying they would take him to the emergency room.

Jason pulled you both back towards the table, sitting you down on his lap as he held your hands down. He could not help how hard he was under you and didn’t care to hide it. Watching that display had him a different level of horny and he frankly couldn’t wait to take you home.

After a few moments passed and you settled down, everyone looked up to the sound of a throat clearing.

“Todd, I don’t know if I ever told you this before,” Damian started, looking at you both with his usual judgemental stare, “...Good job.” He said with a nod toward you.

You were both surprised, Jason especially, as neither of you had ever heard the youngest Robin give out a compliment.

“If you screw this up somehow, which I have little doubt that you’ll find a way, I will not hesitate to end you.”

There was the Damian you both knew.

“I second that motion,” Your best friend added to which you just laughed.

“Shut it, gremlin.” Jason retorted before squeezing you against his body.

“Don’t worry, Damian. I don’t think Jason will do anything to screw this up. Besides, if he does do something stupid, he’ll have me to worry about.” You said, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

You heard Jason growl lowly against you before grinding you into his lap, letting you feel his hardness poking you through your shorts. You popped his arm to which he responded with a pinch on your ass, your best friend watching in disgusted amusement.

“You two make me sick.”

“Back at you, ugly.” You responded.

Damian turned his head, looking in the direction where Dick and Tim took Xavion to an ER room, “I despise harlots.”

“OH! Speaking of which, thank you, Damian, for reminding me.” You said before leaning over Jason to grab your bag and pull out your laptop.

“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Insurance. I knew the day would come when that hoe went too far. So just in case he decides to go to the university about this little spat, I’m emailing a detailed description of how everything went down, along with photos and evidence of his affairs with various teachers and staff. To them, it will look like Xavion attacked me out of retaliation because he thought I would snitch on him about his sexual misconduct. Now, tell me, babe, did you feel physically violated?” You asked while making various edits to your already drafted email.

“Huh?” Jason replied confused.

“Just say yes.” Your best friend told him with a smirk.

“Um, yes? I think…”

“Perfect! Putting that down for the record, so, if that slut decides to try to get me in trouble, I can show I had completely justifiable reasons to hand him his ass on a concrete platter.” You stated a little too cheerily to be considered not disturbing.

Your best friend was not surprised by this at all, while Damian and Jason looked at you like you had two heads.

“Isn’t the expression ‘silver platter?’” Damian pointed out.

“Yeah, but I dragged his ass up and down on concrete, so it’s a concrete platter today.”

You looked up to see the two Robins staring at you.

“What? Bitches fucked around, so bitches found out. Don’t blame me.” You said while continuing to type.

“I fucking love you,” Jason said while biting at your ear lobe, making you laugh.

Damian could only scoff as he watched you two.

“And people swear Todd’s the threat.”

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

1K notes · View notes

a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 1 year

Text

Heaven Help a Fool Who Falls in Love

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mutual pining, Simon being in love but not saying anything

Words: 3.5k

Synopsis: Months apart makes Simon realize how much he truly wants you...

Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist

You are currently reading part 1 of The Roommate Series

Simon tries not to wake you when he comes home this early in the morning. He makes sure to open the door as quietly as he can despite the creak in it, and always takes his shoes off before stepping inside to minimize the sound of his footsteps. He would argue that he was pretty good at stealth, it was a big part of his job and he rarely ever got caught, yet when he was trying to sneak around you, you always seemed to hear him.

It didn’t matter if he came into the apartment without making a single sound, the light in your room would always turn on minutes after his arrival.

You stepped out of your room still in pajamas, your eyes blurry from sleep as you made your way into the living room to greet your roommate. You yawned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you turned the corner, a small smile pulling on your face when you saw him looking as if he’d been caught doing something bad.

“Morning.” Your voice was still heavy with sleep.

“Go back to bed.” Simon’s voice was soft yet there was almost a demanding undertone to it as he set his bag and shoes down on the floor.

“And miss ‘Welcome Back Breakfast’? No.”

It was a tradition you had set up a little while after you roommed with Simon. A meal cooked by you whenever he got home, a small celebration that he was back after being gone for months and an excuse to catch up on everything he missed. It also forced him to eat something when you knew that he wouldn’t otherwise.

He never outwardly expressed his love for the meals but you always knew he appreciated them when he ended up eating seconds and thirds of the food you made. However, he didn’t particularly like the breakfast meals mainly because when you were cooking him breakfast, it was between the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning.

Simon didn’t like when you lost sleep because of him.

“Class doesn’t start until nine.” He argued but you dismissed him with a wave.

“So? I’ll be fine.” You didn’t give him the chance to argue anymore as you walked into the kitchen. “If you take a shower now, I'll be done when you’re finished.”

You listened to him walk towards the bathroom with a small smile, finally feeling at ease as the silence in the apartment disappeared after months of being alone. It was like a heavy weight had been taken out of the air or like the sun had finally parted the clouds after weeks of cloudy skies. Everything in you felt better when you heard the shower turn on as you began to cook breakfast.

It was a strange situation you were in. A college student who started way after she finished high school staying with a guy who disappeared for months on end for an unknown job living with each other in a small apartment.

A normal person would be thrilled that their stranger of a roommate was never there, especially when that stranger sometimes came back with fresh wounds, but Simon Riley was no stranger to you anymore.

It took almost a year and half before either of you got to the point where conversations flow freely, where you can talk his ear off about what you’ve been doing while he’s gone and something stupid that’s been going on in your classes without having to worry if you’re overstepping. You ask him about how he is and how he feels, he’ll answer. He’ll talk to you as much as he can and answer any questions, but there is one thing completely off limits.

His job.

You gathered he was a private man when you first moved in and he kept most of his belongings to himself. He never let you into his room and he had been shy about showing you his face until you expressed you were a little worried he might be a felon.

You tried to ask once, but he shut it down immediately.

“Someone like you doesn’t need to know about that.”

The response confused you then and still confused you to this day. You weren’t sure what he meant by ‘someone like you’, but you never questioned it, not when he gave you an almost glare, a warning for you to never ask again so you never did.

Not when he came home with wounds and not when you noticed the various weapons in his bag that he brought home. You turned a blind eye to the gun he kept in his nightstand and the knife he had hidden underneath his pillow in favor of keeping your friendship alive without pressuring him to give up his secrets.

You wouldn’t trade the relationship you had with him for any information. Especially not when he made you feel a certain way.

You finished cooking when Simon joined you in the kitchen with damp hair, smelling fresh and like home. You were about to plate food for you both before he gently pushed his knuckles into your shoulder.

“Sit.” He told you as he took the plates from your hands.

“You’re bossy this morning.” You teased but did as he said and sat down at the table, watching him make both of your plates. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Simon set your plate in front of you before he sat across from you as if he hadn’t been gone for months and began to eat. You saw his shoulders go less tense the moment the food was in his mouth and it was hard for you to keep a proud smile off your face as you began to eat as well. You both were quiet for a moment, just enjoying the food and the company of each other after so long.

“So I have an exam in three weeks,” you began and though he didn’t look up from his plate you knew he was listening. “In that one class.”

“Have you started studying?” He wondered and when he looked up at you, you averted your gaze from him quickly. “Am I going to have to help?”

“I’m not going through your crazy study bootcamp again.”

“You passed because of me.”

The conversations began to flow between you both. You talked about how one of your recent classes had been giving you mindless work to do for minimal points and how your other friends were doing, not that he particularly cared about what was going on with them but it was something to talk about.

He listened and made comments, engaging in the conversation as he helped himself to the rest of the breakfast, feeling a lot better than he had since he stepped on the plane to come back to you.

Simon watched you talk with soft eyes that bounced across your face unbeknownst to you. He took in everything about you, the small things that changed over the time that he was gone that wouldn’t have made a difference to anyone but he noticed them almost immediately. They didn’t make you any less beautiful or any less than who you were and yet it made him shift uncomfortably in his seat as he felt a small pit form in his stomach.

Maybe he wouldn’t have noticed the changes so much if he had been here, if he wasn’t away from you for so long. Maybe the changes had happened because he had been gone.

He wasn’t stupid. He could see the way you lit up like the fourth of july when he came home, how you would look a lot less tired when you saw him coming through the door like there had been a weight stuck on your chest. It did things to him that he swore would never happen the moment you moved into his flat as his roommate.

He leaned forward against the table as he watched you talk about your recent outing with your friends and his eyes flicked down to your lips.

Every time he walked through that door and you were there it took everything in him to not pull you into his chest, to touch you to make sure that he was actually still alive and that he got to see you again. That you were still here, that you still liked seeing him even though he neglected you for months because of his job, you still like him enough to make him food when you could easily just make him do it. He wished he could show you how much he actually missed you when he was gone.

You had no reason to be that way with him. You weren’t together and neither of you had ever made the move to take the relationship a step further. You didn’t owe him your time, you could easily find a different place to live and yet you stayed with him for some reason.

Part of him waited for the other shoe to drop. He waited for you to come to your senses and realize that the friendship you shared was too strange, was too taxing on your health for it to be something that you truly wanted.

Selfishly he wished you never did.

He wanted you to stay. He wanted you in his life even when it could be dangerous. The only thing keeping you with him were the secrets he kept from you.

“Anyway, I was thinking we could go to the store later this evening.” You said and he scowled.

“Why?” He grumbled as he took both of your plates to the sink before you could get up from your chair.

“We need groceries to eat.”

He sent you a look, one that signaled he didn’t appreciate your sarcasm but you just gave him a smug smirk that made him roll his eyes. He went back to washing the dishes and heard you get up, following your movement from the corner of his eyes as you came up to him and leaned on the counter.

“And because of tomorrow.” You smiled, a twinkle in your eyes that made him look at you with confusion.

“What’s tomorrow?” He asked and watched as your face fell slightly.

“Your birthday…?”

“Is it?”

Simon looked at the calendar that was pinned to the fridge and saw that his birthday was indeed tomorrow, but he was completely indifferent towards the day. He didn’t celebrate ever, it had been years since he had celebrated any kind of holiday or his birthday until you came along. The only reason why you even knew was because you asked him and he found it extremely hard to tell you no when you asked him certain questions.

He put the dishes on the drying rack without another word.

“That’s it? Come on, get a little excited.” You nudged his shoulder, feeling slightly sad about his reaction. “You’re here for your birthday which means we get to do something fun!”

“Something fun would be not doing anything.” He retorted but felt a little bit of regret when you gave him a disappointed look.

“You don’t mean that…not entirely anyway.”

Simon dried his hands on a hand towel and stared at you. He watched as you stared back, your eyes still bright despite the disappointment and it made him falter. He couldn’t quite think of what to say so he ended up staring at you for a lot longer than what would normally be acceptable and subconsciously stepped into your space.

You knew he had a staring problem and it didn’t bother you after you figured out that if he was staring at you because something was off about the way you looked, he would tell you.

You raised your eyebrows in question but he didn’t say anything. A small smile crept onto your face and you poked his chest a few times, enjoying the warmth that you could feel off of him.

“What do you want to do?” You wondered softly because as much as you wanted him to have a great time for his birthday, it was still his day.

Spend time with you. The words nearly slipped out of him before he realized how close he was to you. He took a step back and finally looked away from you, his shoulders tensing up slightly as he moved on to clean the kitchen utensils you used to make breakfast.

Those words seemed innocent enough but he knew that it would reveal way too much about how he truly felt about you which you evidently put you on the spot. As much as he wanted to tell you how much he wanted you and show you the extent of how he felt for you, that could potentially drive you away. He wasn’t going to mess something like this up, not until he was absolutely sure you would return his feelings.

“We still have whiskey?” He asked and you nodded.

“You know I don’t drink your whiskey unless you let me.” You reminded him and the corner of his lip twitched up. “So movie night while drinking?”

“Yes.”

You smiled and it was like he had won the lottery. You grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down a few items on it to get at the grocery store before you handed it to him. You couldn't help the excitement that bubbled in you as you thought about having a movie night with him again for the first time in a while.

“You’re also getting a cake.” You stated and walked back to your room to get ready for classes.

“No-”

“I’m making you a cake!”

Simon listened to you close your door before he looked down at the list in his hands. He read over the items you write down, noting that they were ingredients for a dinner he liked, and he felt his chest warm. It was almost too much, your sweetness but selfishly he couldn’t deny it, not when you so willingly give it to him without any conditions.

He wrote down a couple of things on the list as well before he glanced up at the clock hung in the kitchen. He frowned when he realized that you would have to leave soon. He hadn’t even realized the two of them had sat at the table catching up for that long.

A pit formed in his stomach and he looked around the room, his eyes narrowed as it suddenly felt too unfamiliar to him.

It wasn’t that he hated his flat but it oddly felt less like home when you were gone and he wasn’t. He was too used to your presence when he was home, too used to hearing you piddle around in your room or sit beside him on the couch and he especially was too used to you being around him the first day he was back. Without you around him, he felt like he didn’t belong.

“I just remembered that there’s a festival in town next week.” You came out of your room dressed for the day and with your bookbag. “We should go.”

“What’s it for?” He wondered as he watched you pack your bag.

“I’m not sure but there’ll be food so that’s enough to make me go.”

Simon hummed in thought. He wasn’t one to go to festivals not when there were so many people with overpriced food but the more he looked at you the more he realized that he would at least have some kind of fun if you went together.

You finished packing and he felt sadness slip into him. He wanted to make you stay just a little longer but he couldn’t, not when he wanted what was best for you, for you to do what you wanted to because you deserved it.

Instead he followed you to the front door, looming behind you as if he were your shadow. He gave a quick tug on the back of your shirt to stop you as you grabbed the doorknob to leave.

You immediately understood what he wanted and a smile stretched across your face as you turned around and pulled him into a hug. This wasn’t the first time he had asked for a hug in this way and you hoped that he would never stop doing as you enjoyed the way his warmth encompassed you.

He stiffened in your arms before he slowly wrapped his around you, pulling you into his chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. A long sigh left him almost like you had pulled out a lot of the tension left in his body from being on the field and his eyes fluttered shut so he could just enjoy finally feeling you against him.

“Can you survive without me?” You teased in a soft voice and gave him a comforting squeeze.

No. God no. Just the thought made the pit in his stomach deepen and he was ready to try to convince you to skip class this one time. He could manage the few hours you’d be gone but for longer than that? Before it was hard enough leaving his home for months but knowing that he was leaving you along with it made it so much harder for him to be without you.

You’ve ruined him.

“I’ll be fine.” He stepped away from you and stared at you with those tired eyes of his.

You stared back up at him, getting a good look at the scars that littered his face and the small parts of his skin you could see under shirt. You looked for any new ones and relief washed over you when you couldn’t notice any. You hoped that there weren’t any under his shirt but there was no way to know unless you asked him to strip.

You opened the door but didn’t step outside as you faced him.

“You sure everything’s okay?” You asked one more time because you could.

You were no stranger to the effects his job had on him even if you didn’t know what that job was. You had seen him lock himself in his room for days, not even to come out to eat or to speak to you. Sometimes it started the moment he walked in the door, barely giving you enough time to say hi before he disappeared but other times he seemed fine and then he would immediately crash into a depressive episode. It was impossible for you to tell if it would happen.

“‘M fine.” He assured you and you gave him a smile that lightened the pit in his stomach.

“Be back in a few hours.” You told him and he nodded.

You shut the door behind you and Simon stood frozen where he stood, his eyes trained on the door as a dreadful silence fell over the apartment. His hands curled into fists by his sides and his eyes hardened almost as if he were waiting for someone to burst through the door and attack him.

The silence was only broken by the tinnitus in his ears as he stared down the door, counting the seconds that went by as if it would make time go faster. It felt like a shadow was slowly looming over him, a presence that would drag him down to the darkest depths of his mind just to torment him since he wasn’t distracting himself on the field. He was too antsy to watch a show, too willing to fall back into his mind to read a book.

There was nothing to do. No one to talk to. You weren’t here to remind him that he wasn’t alone, that everything he loved wasn’t gone and that he hadn’t truly died that day.

For a moment, he thought about putting on his mask just to feel the comfort of it on his face. He wanted to get rid of these feelings and the mask could do that perfectly. It would let him push everything down, beat his thoughts into submission because Ghost was so much stronger than Simon was. He could hide from himself with the mask on and just ignore everything until he went on leave again.

He stepped towards his bag but stopped when he felt guilt creep up in his chest.

You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to be ignored, to be forgotten by him as he tried to forget himself, especially after how happy you’d been this morning.

Ghost didn’t belong here. As much as he wanted to become Ghost again so he could become numb to the loneliness and the sense of dread wracking his body, he couldn’t.

Not when he wanted you, when he wanted to see you again after so long.

Simon relaxed his hands and stretched out the tension in them. He huffed and sat down on the couch rather uncomfortably with his hands on either side of him, his eyes going back to the door.

It was just a few hours but Simon would wait for you to come back.

Link to Part 2

A/N: This is short but I felt like if I continued it would've dragged on. Anyway, hope you liked. Might become a series idk

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley

4K notes · View notes

strawberriescherrieskiwi · 2 months

Text

How do I love Thee?

Requests:

Wonka being embarrassed and thinking you'll leave him if you find out he can't read. Angst to fluff pleeasee

Something sweet with Wonka please

Wordcount: 3.5K+

Masterlist

Description: Mr. Wonka is a wonderful chef that you can't help but fall in love with until he starts to avoid you and you wonder if only you are in love.

A/N: Hey. I had fun writing this. I love love writing with Wonka. As always my Wonka takes place in the 20-50s so they often speak a bit strange I'm not sure. haha. I am nervous about workshop today, so I wanted to post this before class. They gave me Jack and Rose vibes so I added that picture don't worry they don't die.

Warning: Angst to fluff. Adorable couple. In love. First love. Jealous suitor. InsecureWonka. Kissing. Takes place before the events of the film. Unedited.

“Excuse me, chief. Do you happen to know which one of these doesn’t have cheese in it?” You asked the chef on the boat that was facing away from you.

Wonka smiled turning around only to gasp when he made eye contact with you. His eyes widened and his face flushed brightly. You were beautiful, the most beautiful person in the world and he felt his hands grow sweaty.

“Umm. Without cheese, you say, miss,” he said wiping his hands on his pants.

You smiled sweetly at him nodding. “Yes, my grandfather can’t have cheese, but he is in love with your cooking,” you said with a laugh.

“Hold on just one second please,” he said, walking back into the kitchen area; but he froze when he looked at the two containers and the labels. He bit his lip and had no idea what they said. He glanced back out of the kitchen into the area where you still stood. You made eye contact with you again, smiling widely and he felt his heart beat faster.

With no other option, he decided to just remake the dish without cheese for you. Well for your grandfather. He was doing this because he wanted one of his shipmates to have something yummy to eat for breakfast. That’s all, nothing more. It has nothing to do with his pounding heart.

“Here you go, miss. I made a fresh serving without cheese for your grandfather. You can never be too safe,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that for us,” you said, grabbing the plate from him.

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t be a very good chef if I didn’t take care of everyone,” Wonka said.

“Well, you are very sweet, Mr. Wonka. Thank you very much,” you said. You were adorable and it would be a lie to say it was just your grandfather’s food that had you coming over to him. You thought he was lovely and wanted to have an excuse to see him. “I will let you know what he thinks,” you said, before telling him your name.

“I will look forward to seeing you again…Umm, for your grandfather’s review,” he said blushing.

You laughed and felt your cheeks heat up. “I look forward to seeing you again as well.”

After your first meeting with the chef, you saw him around a lot more. He always made sure you and your grandfather’s food was perfect and was more than happy to walk you back to your room each night. To say you were smitten would be an understatement. The feeling was definitely mutual. Wonka was completely flustered around you. He could barely speak, and his hands were always sweaty. He didn’t want to say he was in love, but he was in love. You spent almost every day together that you could for the last 3 weeks.

Tonight, you two were taking a walk around the ship. With your arms linked together you both stopped at the rails and took in the night sky. You were cold and Willy quickly took off his coat and wrapped it around you.

“Oh, thank you, Willy,” you smiled hiding in his jacket a bit to hide your flaming cheeks. “Won’t you get cold, though?” You asked.

“No, I will be okay. I quite like the cold,” he said softly.

You nodded but still moved closer to him. “Shall we still share? Just to make sure.”

“Oh. Yes. Yes. I-I.. umm yes that be great.” Moving closer to you, he wrapped his arm around your waist and snuggled closer to you. “Is this, okay?” he asked.

“Perfectly okay. More than okay,” you said. “So, tell me about your plans in the city?” You asked.

Willy's eyes widened and his tone filled with passion and excitement as he talked about his dream of owning a chocolate shop at the Galleries Gourmet. He went on to talk about his mother and how much chocolate meant to them both. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just too adorable, leaning forward you kissed and pecked his lips.

His eyes stretched even wider, and you flushed looking down at your feet. You couldn’t believe you did that. Your grandfather would have your head if he realized you were out-kissing boys that you were not courting.

“What was that for?” He whispered.

“Umm. I don’t know. You just looked so cute, and your passion is so infectious, and I just like spending time with you, Mr. Wonka,” you said looking up at him before looking back down.

Willy was quiet for a while. Too long actually. You were starting to think you had messed everything up between the two of you until his grip tightened on your waist and he pressed you against him and crashed his lips back onto yours. Your hands moved up to grip his shoulders and you pulled him closer.

You two kissed passionately and sweetly until the sun started to kiss the horizon and you had to get back to your rooms for a few hours of sleep before he needed to prepare breakfast and you needed to escort your grandfather. You two walked hand and hand back to your room. Silly grins on both of your faces the whole way. When you arrived you, both turned to face each other.

“So, this is your room,” he whispered.

“Yup, this is it,” you said making no move to go into the room.

Wonka grinned leaning down and pressing his lips to yours for another quick kiss. “I like kissing you,” he concluded when he pulled away.

“I very much enjoy kissing you as well. Your lips are soft and lovely.” You chuckled pushing some of his hair behind his ear.

His eyes closed and he snuggled closer to your warmth. You grinned he was adorable, and you loved him so much. Cupping his cheek, you kissed his nose. His eyes popped open, and his green eyes sparked with happiness.

“I will see you in the morning, Mr. Wonka,” you said, taking off his coat and trying to give it to him, but he just pressed it into your hands.

“How about you keep it and return it tomorrow?”

“Is this a ploy to make sure I see you again,” you teased.

“Yes,” he said shamelessly.

“We always see each other,” you pointed out but took his coat.

“Then allow it to keep you warm tonight.”

You nodded, leaning forward once more kissing him into your breath ran out. He pulled away, kissing your hands before stepping back waiting for you to go inside before walking back to his room.

The next morning you had a bounce in your step as you walked with your grandfather to the dining area.

“What has you in such a good mood?” Your grandfather asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just excited for breakfast,” you said, dreamingly thinking about Willy.

“Hmm. It has nothing to do with a certain chef that has a penchant for chocolate?” He asked with a knowing look.

You flushed and turned away from him. “You won’t tell Mama, will you?”

“You are young and in love. I remember being the very same with your grandmother. When I was in the army, she was a nurse. Love at first sight. When I got hurt, she took care of me, reading books to me and nursing me back to health. I told her that the day the war was over I was going to marry her. And I did. We married and ran away together to start our lives and I never regretted it,” he said. “When you meet the one you just know, puppet,” he said, glancing over at a nervous Willy. Who stood in the window from the kitchen into the dining area scanning the room. The moment his eyes connected with yours, he smiled widely and waved happily.

You smiled and turned back to your grandfather kissing his cheek. “I think you are quite right about that.”

When you made your way over to Willy, you smiled and kissed his cheek. His eyes widened but he didn’t complain. “I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk after breakfast?” he asked.

“I would love. I will walk Grandpapa back and then meet you outside the kitchen?”

“Sounds wonderful. Perfectly wonderful,” he said happily.

Willy walked back into the kitchen and couldn’t help but grin and hum happily to himself as he finished breakfast. Everyone that worked in the kitchen could clearly see that he was smitten, and they were all happy for him all but the one other person that longed for your affection.

“Willy, I see you have caught the love bite?” Amaro said, sliding next to Willy.

Willy frowned looking at his arms. “I don’t believe I’ve been bitten by anything?”

Amaro laughed and slapped him on the back. “I mean you are in love with the sweetest person.”

“Oh”-Willy flushed and looked back down at the batter he was making- “Yes, I adore her a lot. She is very sweet. A little bonbon,” he said unable to not gush about you.

“That is lovely. Do you think you will ask her to go to the Galleries with you?”

Willy thought about it a lot last night. He actually thought about it since the first time you two started to get close. He knew about your dreams of meeting people and recording their stories as it fascinated you and he thought you could do that with all the people in the Galleries, but he was too nervous. “Do you think I should?” He asked.

“No,” Amaro said.

“No?” Willy repeated. “Why not?”

“Well, have you told her about your issue? You can’t read Willy. She loves reading. Her nose is always in a book. You’ve met lovely people thus far, but it is a hindrance.”

“You think she would care?” He asked worriedly looking out into the dining room and seeing you sitting across from your grandfather eating but a book was open on your lap.

“Of course, she’ll care. What if she wants your help with her travel log? Wants you to read over them? Reading is clearly important. What if she hated chocolate? It is the same,” Amaro said with a no small amount of joy.

“I suppose you are right. Who would want to be with a man that can’t read?” Willy said dejected.

“I’m sorry, Willy,” Amaro said, walking away with a grin on his face.

After walking your grandfather back to your room, you waited outside the kitchen for Willy excited to spend so much time with him. You wanted to know how he felt about you. You needed to know if he felt the same. You kissed him you hoped he didn’t think you were the sort to go kissing people without deep feelings. You hoped he wasn’t the sort to. So, you stood and waited. And waited And waited. You frowned and looked down at your watch. It had been an hour of you waiting for him and you got worried. You hoped he wasn’t overwhelmed with work or gotten hurt. You were just about to run into the kitchen when the door swung open and Amaro walked out.

“Oh, Amaro. Have you seen Mr. Wonka? I was supposed to meet him, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Is he inside? Is everything okay?” You shot off worriedly.

“Oh, Willy left a long time ago. He said he had important business in his cabin. I’m sorry, he must have forgotten,” he said.

Your shoulders sagged and you frowned. “Oh.” He forgot about you. You couldn’t help the way that stung. You thought he was just as excited about seeing you as you were to see him.

“Oh, don’t be sad. Maybe it was something very important. We are close to where he will be leaving us. He is probably preparing for his departure.” Amaro went on.

“That is true. We are a day or two away. He is closer to his dream. I suppose that is important more important than a silly little meet with me,” You said, ignoring the crack in your voice.

“Would you like to go to the top deck with me? I found this fascinating book and I think you would love it,” He said.

You perked up slightly. “A book you say?”

He nodded wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Yes. I know how much you love reading and I saw it at our last stop and had to get it.”

“I would love to see it. Maybe it will cheer me up.”

“My thoughts exactly,” he said leading you away.

At the same time, Willy paced around his room. He knew it was wrong to miss your meeting, but he was frightened. He loved you, but would you still enjoy his company if you knew the truth about him? Would you want an illiterate partner? He can’t see why anyone would.

He paced and paced and paced. “Willy, you should at least tell her you are sorry for standing her up,” he told himself. “It’s rude. She’s lovely and…. And maybe she won’t care about my not being able to read.” He perked at the thought. Of course, you wouldn’t. He quickly ran out of his room, bumping into people in his quest to find you. He was told you were seen on the top deck and raced to get to you. He was out of breath when he got to the top only to stop when he saw you. Hunched close to Amaro, a book between the two of you as you both read something.

His heart dropped at how happy you looked. You smiled widely and pointed at something in the book that caused Amaro to laugh. Then he turned the page and pointed something out to you that had you throwing your head back laughing freely.

That would never been him. He couldn’t share that joy of a good book with you. He felt tears in his eyes and he was quick to run back down the stairs and all the way back to his room with a broken heart.

Your heart was equally in pain as the next two days, Willy avoided you. He never peeked out of the kitchen anymore. He was never around when you tried to look for him. Amaro assured you that it was not about you, that he was just excited and focusing on leaving. Which didn’t make you feel any better.

Were you not important enough to speak to anymore? Was he really going to leave without speaking with you? As the hours pass you get less hurt and angrier.

You still had his jacket. It mocked you as it lay on your bed and with only hours before you made port and he left forever, you grabbed the jacket and stormed out of your room all the way to his. You knocked on the door harshly and with no care if he was asleep or not.

You knocked and knocked and when you got no answer you almost screamed. Instead, you kicked it and headed towards the top deck. You walked to the railing and grabbed it tightly. You wanted to toss the coat into the sea. You wanted to be rid of it, but you know how much it meant to him. Even as upset as you were, you couldn’t toss it.

“You heartless chocolatier,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” Willy said from behind you.

Gasping, you turned around and clutched the coat close to your chest. “Mr. Wonka. How long have you been up here?”

“A few hours,” he said walking closer to you. Your traitorous heart sped up and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead, he grabbed his coat. And your heart sinks.

“I’ve been meaning to come get this from you. I am sorry if it has been bothersome,” he said, looking at the coat and not you.

“Yes. It has been most bothersome to me. So bothersome, just sitting in my room mocking me. Making me think about you when it seems you have not given a thought about me at all.”

“What?” He shouted. “No. That isn’t true, you are all I think about.”

You scoffed. “Really? You haven’t spoken a word to me in days, Mr. Wonka. We were supposed to meet, and I waited for you for over an hour and you didn’t show. I-I.” You stopped and looked away feeling tears in your eyes. “I thought we had a connection. I thought… I meant something to you,” you said sadly.

Willy's bottom lip wobbled, and he was quick to touch your face gently making you look at him. His eyes were dull and sad. “Of course, you meant something to me. Mean something to me. I care for you very much.”

“Then why have you ignored me? Avoid me?” you said letting the tears fall down your cheeks.

“Oh dear. My sweet Bonbon,” he said, wiping your tears. “I am no good for you. You should be with someone else. Someone like Amaro. You two get along and have so much in common.”

“It is not Amaro that I love,” you said, slapping his hands away. You were sobbing because of him. You were in pain because of him. You were in love because of him and all he can think about is how well you fit with someone else. “Do you not think that we have a thing in common?”

“Not the things that are important to you?” He said sadly taking a step back and putting his coat on.

“What things are those?”

It was his turn to look away. His eyes filled with tears and he’s hands became clammy.

“Well. Don’t I deserve to know why I am being rejected.”

“It is not you who is being rejected, Bonbon,” he said quietly.

“Well, it quite feels like it is.” This time, you moved into his space and touched his cheek. “Please,” you pleaded.

“I cannot read,” he said embarrassedly.

“You cannot read?” You repeated confused.

“No. I have never learned.”

You huffed and kissed him.

Willy was taken back and froze again your lips. You sighed sadly and pulled away. “Did you not hear me?” He asked.

“I read you perfectly well.”

“But you kissed me.”

“I did. And you did not kiss me back.”

He blushed. “it isn’t because I don’t want to. I am just confused.”

“What is there to be confused about? I love you, Mr. Wonka.”

“Still?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t because you wouldn’t read?”

He gave a curl nod.

“Oh, you foolish man. I do not care. I can’t make a lick of chocolate, but do you hold it against me.”

“Well no. Of course not. But reading is different.”

“Not to me. I don’t care if you can read, write, or cook. I like you as you are.”

Willy's heart swelled at your words. “It truly doesn’t bother you. You love reading. And I saw how happy you looked when you were reading with Amaro. I just... I can’t do that with you.”

“Yes, you can,” you chuckled. “I can read it to you. I don’t mind. Or I could teach you if that is something that you want.” You wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t want to learn.

“You would teach me? Be with me even though I will struggle?” He asked looking up sheepishly.

“Yes. I would be more than happy to teach you. To be with you. I am very much in love with you. I think I’ve said it thrice now.”

Willy smiled and took your hands in his. “I love you. I love you. I love you. Je t’aime. Te amo, ti amo, Ich Liebe dich, salanghaeyo, Aishitemasue. That is it in every language that I know,” he said affectionately.

You laughed softly hugging him. Willy grabbed you tightly and buried his head into your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should have gone with my gut and came in and talked to you.”

You nodded pulling back from the hug to stare into his eyes. They were sparkling with love and happiness, and you melted slightly. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was, but I saw you with Amaro and you reading together and I thought about what he said?”

You furrowed your brows. “What did he say?”

“That Women wouldn’t want to be with a man that can’t read,” he said playing with your fingers.”

“He is wrong. At least about me. I don’t care. Mr. Wonka.”

He smiled and quickly pressed his lips to yours. His hands moved to your waist and pulled you closer as he kissed you frantically. You happily kissed him back burying your fingers in his curls and giving them a little tug.

Willy moaned into your mouth and then pulled away in embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry. That was embarrassing,” he said.

“No. It’s okay, really. It’s cute,” you said, grabbing his hands.

“Can I ask you to come to the Galleries with me,” He asked. “I understand if it is too soon, but I just don’t want to be apart from you.”

“I would love to go with you,” you said excitedly.

“Really?” He asked just as excitedly.

“Yes, really.” And then he was kissing you once again.

Taglist.

@mel-vaz

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry

@s-we-e-t-t-ea

@robertpattins0nswh0re

@valencia-rou

@groovyqueer

@tchalamss

@daydreaming-peach

@wandasforyou

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist. Or if you asked and I forgot, or if your tag doesn't work.

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #wonka #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet imagine #willy wonka imagines #wonka imagine #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet imagines #timothee x reader #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet #wonka fics #willy wonka fics

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flamingpudding · 11 months

Text

Part 5 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

For those that ask, yes an AO3 link is in the works. I will post it once its ready. Also fair warning, I will be focusing on DPxDC Family Week now so I have no idea when the next part will be up.

<<1 Previous Next

Thrill and chirp brother

Tim sipped on his n-th cup of specially made Tim-brand-not-Alfred-approved coffee as he shuffled into the dinning room and sat down on the breakfast table. The moment he sat down he opened the laptop again and stared at its screen for a couple of seconds. The scan of the post-it note got nothing. None of the squiggles was recognised in any of the so far known languages. Hell he even ran it through the leagues recordings of interdimensional and interplanetary known languages. No hits so far. Right now he was running a picture recognition program to see if any of these had appeared before it was on 90% with nothing found so far.

Good he hoped this really was just a prank from Cass and Steph. Because if it wasn't, Bruce would go nuts and overly paranoid as well as up the entire Manors security system a third time this month. Sadly, despite his hope, Tim knew that it wasn't a prank.

A cough resounded behind him and Tim blinked two times before sighting, closing the laptop and pushing it only a couple of inches away from him as Alfred put a plate with his breakfast before him. Knowing Alfreds rules about work at the table he would better not touch it again for now.

"Replacement, you look like the dead walking. Did you even sleep last night?" He glared at his brother before he blinked taking in his surroundings before his eyes rested on little Danny.

Tim could see that all of them, despite barely knowing the kid for a couple of hours, had already become attached to Danny. It didn't help that they had discovered Lichtenberg scarring running up Danny's left arm all the way to where his heart was after the child had finally let Damien take care of him. Hell Tim wanted to know who would give a child, a once dead then revived one, scares like that. If Talia had let the kid go through some sort of experimentation…. Well Tim knew where the explosives were stored and by the looks of it he probably could count on Jason's as well as Dick's help to blow up a league facility.

Either way Damien had become very protective of the child. The scarring didn't help calming that protectiveness either. In fact he was pretty sure it steered it more in the rest of them too. Also the fact that Danny spat out glowing Lazarus Water once they managed to wrangle the kid off Jason last night wasn't calming down a different kind of worry anytime soon either. No, it was another factor next to the scarring that spoke for the League having experimented on the poor child. He probably should start investing more time into what sort of facilities the League had built or was using lately.

On a good note, thankfully Danny had let up on Jason after he spat out the green goop and thanks to the fact that he apparently recognised Damien, let said teenager manhandle -cough- take care of the little biter for the rest of the night. It also seemed like the little guys biting obsession with Jason had calmed down, for now. He didn't trust the calm, especially not with the way Danny was still focused on his second oldest brother. Though everyone except for the demon brat was still getting the hissing treatment. Considering his theory that the League probably used the revived child to experiment with Lazarus Water, it wasn't that much of a surprise. Anyone would be feral after being subjected to experiments.

Thankfully it looked that whatever Pit Madness had overcome the child last night was not reacting towards them. But as he watched Dick trying really hard not to pout at Damien who had Danny in his lap in a protective hold, he wondered how long that would hold. Jason sat as far away from Danny and Damien as he could, probably because of the way the child was watching him with glowing blue eyes while munching on whatever food Damien gave to the little biter.

He could also see the reason for Dick's pouting as the elder reached out to attempt to ruffle Danny's hair but the child instantly snapped his head in their eldest brother's direction, hissing, bearing his teeth and even snapping at the air until Dick withdrew said hand again. A pout very evidently on his face. Like a switch flipped the child's focus would then redirect to watching Jason like a hawk again and munching on the food the Demon brat gave him.

At least he was the bitey type that would hiss as warning and not the stabby kind without warning like Damien.

"Yo, anyone at home up there?"

Turning his focus back to his second oldest brother Tim glared at him once more. "If you have to know. Yes I did sleep last night."

"More than one hour?" Dick asked next and Tim refused to look at the eldest. He was not going to answer that. He had coffee, who needed sleep when you have coffee. Besides, he was a perfectly functioning human being even with minimal amounts of sleep. He had not face planted his breakfast for three days now.

"What got you so obsessed that you didn't sleep, Drake? Another case? Or did you try to find out more from the League in regards to Danyal's scars?"

"That too but mostly the post-it note." He finally answered after stewing a little longer under the stares of his siblings. "Neither our nor the JL's language recognition programs got a hit and right now I am running a picture recognition to see if there ever was any kind of writing like that found before but it ran up to 90% before I came down and hadn't found anything like that before. And-"

"Slow down there Timber. I thought that's just a prank from Cass and Steph?" Dick interrupted him and Tim suppressed a groan.

"It couldn't be. I wish it was but both of them weren't in the Manor last night and I don't think Duke would do something like this so-"

"Hold up." Jason cut in and Tim glowered at them for getting interrupted again.

"What do you mean no language recognition program got a hit?"

"It means that there is no languages to translate-"

"Why would you need that? Yea its cryptic as fuck but its clearly written out!"

"Jason what are you talking about?" He opened his laptop again, turning the screen so it was facing Jason. "These are squiggles! How is it readable?!"

"The fuck you talking about?! Don't tell me your sleep deprived mind doesn't know how to read anymore?"

"Jason what does it say in your eyes?" Dick carefully cut in before Tim could question the other any more.

"'The daylight knight will tell the truth with eyes that see the light'. See cryptic as fuck." The older gesticulated towards Tim's laptop screen while Damien raised an eyebrow at him.

"The what now, will tell what?" Dick asked confusedly while Tim turned the laptop back towards him noting down what Jason just said. He was confused as to why Jason was able to read the squiggles but at least that gave him some kind of hint about the post-it. Aside from adding more questions to the already growing pile.

Suddenly a thrilling noise echoed in the room and the four looked at Danny. The child's now green eyes were focused on Jason. Tim could see Damiens hold tightening and Dick tensing when they noticed the green. Danny repeated the same nose he made earlier, still intensely staring at Jason.

"Who the fuck is clockwork?"

The green fated and Danny made a similar noise to chirping, his head tilting in confusion.

"The fuck you mean you don't know? You just said that Clockwork wrote the note?!"

"Todd. Did you just understand the noise Danyal was making?"

Once again the three of them stared at Jason who looked at them confused. "You didn't?"

They shake their heads and Jason let out a frustrated groan as he sat back down his head in his hands. "What did you assholes hear just now?"

"Danyal made some kind of thrilling, then chirping noise."

"Well I heard him say that someone named Clockwork wrote the note and then he said all confused that he doesn't know who Clockwork is." He looked at them frustrated. "Why do I hear the kid speak and you guys don't. You're his fucking twin, right? Shouldn't you know what the brat is saying?"

Damien glowered at their brother offended but didn't retort anything. Tim did see a hint of frustration with their formerly youngest and he could guess. Damien was most likely frustrated about the fact that Jason understood his twin's noises and he didn't. The only thing stopping him from possibly hurling the breakfast knife at Jasons, was most likely his hold on Danny.

Tim also thought about the fact for a while until it suddenly hit him. He looked up and made eye contact with Dick who most likely came to the same conclusion. The two turned towards their siblings.

"The Lazarus Water." Tim carefully offered, watching Jason and Damien tensed slightly.

"What about it?" The second oldest scoffed, turning his attention towards them.

"That's what you two have in common. Both of you got revived and came back through a Lazarus Pit. You still have the Pit in your mind right? And Danny most likely also has a lot of it in his system. It even mixed with his DNA."

After a beat of silence Jason let out a hearty groan. "Fuck. So because of the Pit I understand thrill and chirps now? Just fucking great!"

"Probably can speak it too if you try. That would be pretty cute. Come on, say something in a chirp!" Leave it to Dick to try to lighten the mood, though the glare Jason sent the eldest did make Tim hide a chuckle. He had to admit imaging Jason talking in chirps was a funny image. Should his brother ever do that he would need to make sure to take a video for his black mail folder.

"I will fucking not!"

"Come on, don't you want to communicate properly with our little teethling here?"

"Fuck off Dick!"

"You have to try it Jaybird! For little teethling!"

"Richard." Damien warned but Tim could only snicker as he watched Dick reach out to pat the kids head carelessly, apparently not hearing the warning nor hissing as the elder was too engrossed in convincing Jason to talk in chirp.

Dick let out a shriek of pain.

"Ha! Not so fun getting bitten is it now?" Jason laughed gloating with the fact that for once he was not the biting target.

Tim winched the moment he saw Danny clamp down with his sharp teeth on Dick's hand. Damien was instantly scowling both of them but the little biter refused to let go. He saw Alfred approaching the three and instantly stood up from his chair with a warning on the tip of his tongue as the butler reached out towards Danny.

"Master Danyal." Stunned and frozen the four brothers watched how the butler fearlessly patted the child's head who only let out a small hiss in acknowledgement, teeth still digging into the eldest brother's hand. "I request you let go of Master Dick's hand. I fear it will not taste as well as this snack I have prepared for you."

In an instant Danny let go and chirped, turning his attention towards Alfred who was still patting the child's head without getting hissed at or being in risk of getting bitten. Damien even let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you Pennyworth."

Dick was now cradling his hand, pouting and mumbling something about unfairness at the three as Jason laughed. Tim too couldn't help but chuckle, of course Alfred somehow became an exception towards Danny's biteyness.

It was at that moment that Duke entered the room, took one look at them, blinked, rubbed his eyes and then turned around and left again muttering something about it being too bright and early for any of this.

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notjustjavierpena · 3 months

Text

Diner

A/N: My first darkfic and based on that one picture of Pedro in Freaky Tales. READ THE TAGS!!!!

Summary: You get more than you paid for during your visit to a roadside diner.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, non-con, degrading language, condescending language, blood and violence, threats of violence, forced masturbation, forced orgasm, forced creampie, reader does NOT enjoy this!

Word count: 3.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52941784

Diner

Something about roadside diners makes you feel like you are in an alternate universe. It starts the second that you step out of your car and onto the asphalt, a weird sensation of not being in the real world overtaking you as you listen to the cars drive by at a dizzying speed. There are a few cars here already, but you suspect that most of them belong to the people staying at the motel just next to the small and informal restaurant instead of people eating dinner. It is late after all, so late that you can see you are just in time for a coffee before they close.

You’ve been driving home in the summer heat for your sister’s wedding, crossing state lines for days now to make it in time, and it means quick dinners, cheap coffee, and sleeping in your car. At this point, you’ve actually come to like the greasy fried food and the coffee that almost resembles tar with how strong it is. It helps you regulate your body temperature in the car, forcing you to cool down because it’s scalding hot in your stomach.

A tiny bell rings as you walk through the door. The checkered tile floor seems slightly sticky as you move through the place with the taste of stale coffee already present on your tongue as if the setting has triggered a memory. You notice the single customer sitting in a booth along the window, all broad shoulders and sleeves rolled up as he eats two slices of toast with eggs and bacon, but you don’t think much of the man as much as you think about eating breakfast foods at night. It’s always oddly satisfying, weirdly rebellious.

You squeeze in between two chairs from the line along the counter. You brush away a few granules of sugar from it, smiling slightly as you are approached by what you assume is the only staff at this time.

“Just coffee?” The lady behind the counter asks as she notices you not looking at the menu and not checking out the pie underneath a glass dome to your left.

“That’d be great,” you reply.

“And no milk or nothin’?” She continues.

You shake your head no and look around at nothing of importance the second she walks away to start up the coffee machine. It gurgles a few moments later.

Behind you, the man has finished his meal. He gets out of the booth to use the restroom, leaving you to sip your coffee alone with the waitress who makes no effort to start up a conversation with you (then again, you don’t start chatting with her either).

Time passes. The song playing from the radio in the background ends. The stranger reemerges and shakes his hands dry on his way to his table again. He doesn’t sit but instead carries his plate to the counter.

“Thanks, Doris, great like always,” he smiles, turning to you briefly to acknowledge your presence. He nods in greeting.

“Anytime, Joel,” Doris blinks at him, batting her lashes. She is clearly infatuated, and you can understand why; the two of them seem to be about the same age. Joel is tall with broad shoulders in an open flannel with a t-shirt underneath, his hands look rough and used to hard labor, and his hair is slicked back by what you don’t know whether is gel or sweat but it looks like he has run his fingers through it several times today.

“Well, I’m off, see ya tomorrow,” he turns to go gather his things at the table where he has been eating. You think nothing more of it.

“Anything else, honey?” Doris asks and you shake your head.

“No thanks,” you say politely, “I’m all good.”

“I’ll have my smoke break then,” she states, untying her apron and hanging it on the wall only to proceed to dig out a package of cigarettes from the pocket on the front, “You can just leave the money on the counter when you leave.”

And then it’s just you and Joel and an eerie feeling settles in your stomach at being alone with a man you don’t know, especially in between cities and even moreso at night.

You glance over your shoulder to watch him carefully but he is just picking through his wallet to leave a tip on the table. You look straight ahead again and shake your head at how ridiculous you feel about your anxiety, rolling your eyes at how you could think such things about someone who is having eggs at midnight.

Still, something feels wrong. You steal another glance over your shoulder and see the table with the empty plate, and the crumbled bill beside it. What you don’t see is Joel, which is weird because you haven’t heard the bell from the door being opened and clo-

A rough hand settles on the back of your neck. It grips you hard until it hurts, causing you to crane your neck and gasp loudly into the room. Joel’s voice makes your skin crawl, “Fuck, you are pretty.”

You hear a deep inhale through the nose followed by a satisfied sigh, “Smell pretty too. Been driving all day alone?”

“What are you doing?” You are frozen to the spot. He has trapped you between the counter, two barstool chairs, and himself. The hand holding you in place is uncomfortable but mostly, its iron grip has started to make you lightheaded due to his thumb and index finger pressing into your carotid artery. It makes you not want to move in case he grabs harder.

“I just realized that I haven’t had dessert in a while ‘n’ pie just doesn’t seem to cut it,” he replies, breathing labored already from how he has control over what your body can or cannot do. The words make you squirm but you still, for some reason, haven’t thought about screaming for help.

“No,” your voice quivers and bravely you try to decline the offer, “I don’t want that. Please.”

“Afraid you’ll like it too much?” You can feel he has moved his head closer, can feel the smirk in his voice. You feel sick like you might actually puke if you weren’t working on an empty stomach.

“Doris’ll come back,” you reason.

“She’s closing up in ten,” he laughs as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard, “She’ll use every second of those ten minutes to have what she considers fresh air but I don’t think we need much longer, do you?”

You whimper, and then suddenly you’re on the move but it’s not by yourself. No. Joel is hauling you backward, moving you around like you weigh nothing, and causing your feet to stumble several times. However, he doesn’t seem bothered by your clumsiness caused by terror, just uses a bit more force until he can shove you down onto an empty table.

That’s when you feel panic starting to rise in your body. You start thrashing, grabbing at whatever you can reach on the table to throw it down onto the floor and make a racket. You cry too, shock setting in and causing tears to flow desperately as emotions become too much. This is it, you think, this is what prey must feel when they’re trying to escape.

Joel growls in anger, holding you roughly in place so your efforts are to no avail, “Shut the fuck up. Stop crying.”

You absolutely don’t. That is until your forehead and nose connect with the surface of the table. Joel has pushed you on the back of your head so harshly that your face has been violently knocked down onto the table, and it hurts, prickling in your nostrils and nausea settling more in your stomach. The impact makes you feel dizzy enough to not continue fighting him.

A sudden taste of iron fills your mouth. You are bleeding from your nose, you realize, and it replaces the salty taste of your tears and drips onto the surface of the table. Pathetically, you try grabbing at anything in front of you and you end up smearing the bloodstains across the white. It’s not the sight that makes you gag but the fact that Joel seems aroused by it.

“Relax,” he responds to your whine, “‘tis just a bit of blood.”

But that’s not what causes your noise. It’s the position you are in; it makes your ass stick out and Joel’s crotch rests against it whilst he reaches out for your hair, bunching it up in his strong hand and creating a makeshift ponytail to tug on. You try to make sense of what is happening but all you can focus on is how big he seems in his jeans, rock hard against you as he yanks your head up by the hair. It may be your foggy mind’s way of protecting yourself from realizing what this is, particularly because you had a brief thought earlier about how nice his hands would feel if they touched you. They feel horrible.

When he straightens behind you, his free hand starts tugging on your pants. He is rough in his movements but careful enough to make sure that nothing rips, knowing he shouldn’t leave evidence of your ravish behind.

“Please,” you slur with desperation.

“No begging now,” he purposely misunderstands, “I’ll give you what you need real soon, sweetheart.”

When your pants sit around your knees, he lets the hand go down between your legs. Your mind is suddenly very clear.

“Are you a virgin?” He asks with a dark smile evident in his voice. His hand skims along the inside of your thigh, and you feel your feet trying to move away. His fingertips are so close to where you don’t want them. He kicks your ankles hard enough to make you unable to breathe, unable to balance on your feet so you can’t even try to flee.

You whimper in reply.

The satisfied growl he lets out sends a shiver down your spine, cold sweat making you feel lightheaded.

“No,” you finally manage to stutter out, trying to convince yourself that replying is going to make the heartbeat in your chest less intense as you’ve made yourself less interesting to him. Instead, you realize that you have only disappointed him.

“Just when I got my hopes up,” he tuts, suddenly palming your cunt through your underwear. You want to scream and cry but somehow, you simply cannot and it dawns on you that your body is too scared of making him furious to do your most instinctive act of fighting back, “Can’t say I’m happy, but I am surprised at having a whore on my hands. Wait till I tell the guys back home ‘bout you, they’ll be so envious.”

His fingers curl around the fabric of your panties. He tugs them down your thighs and the fabric snaps at the violent yanks that he does. It was only the pants, you think, it was only those that needed to be saved for keeping up appearances.

The way the skin of his hand touches your bare thighs feels like fire, and you don’t know whether to feel relief that nothing has happened yet or become hysterical when your underwear sits around your knees too; you know the rest, know what he is about to do and now, you just have to wait for it to be over.

And then briefly, it’s gone but you don’t dare think that he might have changed his mind but when you lift your head, you can see him in the reflection of the window, sucking on his own fingers to wet them until they’re shiny with saliva.

“Stay still,” he commands, and the hand on the back of your neck slides down so he can rest his forearm on the small of your back to still hold you down. His wetted fingers go right between your legs to search for your clit, and he presses down on it until you let out a whimper from a sudden state of arousal slowly taking over your body.

He rubs you off for a few minutes where you fight every single nerve in your body to not enjoy it but suddenly you let out your first involuntary moan, pussy starting to wet against your will and shame setting in. You rest your cheek against the table, tears sliding down over your nose as you occasionally moan helplessly. Your poor treacherous body burns deep below your navel, and the tingling in your core makes you think that maybe, just maybe, it won’t be so bad.

“That’s it,” he says in a gentle voice, a tone that makes you hold back a gag, “Knew you wanted it, just needed a little encouragement.”

“Please,” you sob, “I can pay you.”

“I don’t want cash,” he replies simply, sliding his digits through your slick, “I want you, sweetheart, and it seems this pussy wants me too.”

Joel’s fingers leave you and you hear him suck his fingers clean with a hum. The air feels cool against your swollen cunt which is so wet by now that you start to believe, albeit barely, that a part of you wants this. How can you say you don’t when you are close to dripping?

“I’m gonna let go of you now but if you try anything, I’ll cut your fucking tits off with a steak knife, got it?” Joel’s threat doesn’t seem empty.

You nod, paralyzed, and he stretches. You shiver at the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. There’s a bit of shuffling and then you feel the blunt head of his dick poking into your ass.

He doesn’t waste his time it seems, because he rubs the tip through your wetness and starts to breach you. Color drains from your face at the realization of his size.

“No, no no no,” you pant as he pushes into you. He teases you open but only at first; you let out a sharp cry as he enters you fully and with no warning. The head had been a warning of how big he was going to be but now that he is sheathed inside of you to the brim, you feel like nothing could have ever prepared you for his size even if you had wanted him. He kisses your cervix, splits you open, and your cunt clenches in an attempt to push him out and pull him in.

“Fuck,” he moans and draws out the word, “Tight heaven.”

He fucks you like a ravenous animal and you turn into a helplessly moaning mess, held down to the point where your hips are hurting against the table because Joel uses all of his weight to pleasure himself with you.

His fingers dig into your hips enough to bruise and his zipper gnaws into the back of your thigh. You have never taken anyone as big as him before, and it’s almost an out-of-body experience to be stretched out again and again by him. He swears above you, rhythm faltering, every time you accidentally find a shred of pleasure in his thrusts.

You feel fucked out of your mind but you are stuck there, having to take each bruising thrust that sends pain shooting through your body each time Joel’s cock bumps the back of your cunt (which is every other crash of his hips due to his size).

“Ah,” you whimper shamefully when he nudges against your g-spot. It takes some of the pain away, and soon, you let out a breathless gasp. Would you actually enjoy him if circumstances had been different? If he’d chatted you up and booked a room at the motel next door?

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut. It leaves you to focus on the way that your cunt squelches from your wetness, how Joel grunts behind you as he continues driving into you.

“Listen to that, you really think your whore-pussy would sound like that if you didn’t want this?” He taunts.

“No, Joel,” you say without any tone to your voice.

“You wanna come, sweetheart? Touch yourself,” he pulls you back by your hips a little until you are able to move your hand to your crotch. His thrusts relent and bring you relief from your throbbing and pained muscles. You don’t move, and he grows impatient and cruel. You almost want to laugh at the contrast of his next line but you find yourself too scared of the unknown, “You think you get a choice here, you little bitch? Do it now.”

Reluctantly, your hand slides down between your legs but you still feel relief as you start touching yourself. In the moment, you try to remind yourself of what you like to do when it’s just you alone and you find that your cunt stirs with interest. It’s followed by a string of ahs as you begin to actually enjoy it, circling your clit with determination to finish.

“That’s it, wanna feel you milk me,” his breath is more ragged now. He is close you realize, and he is not going to pull out.

It feels shameful when you make yourself come, cunt setting off into spasms that should feel beautiful but just makes you hate yourself for enjoying the way they make you feel. You moan louder than intended, completely at the mercy of the pleasure that has been built up deep inside of you and is now coursing through your nervous system.

Joel seems to understand your conflict, radiating claustrophobic warmth as he speeds up his hips as if he is using your body to masturbate with you. His voice is breathy as he talks, he sounds nearly on the edge of coming, “Shh… It’s supposed to feel good. It should feel good.”

He finishes inside of you a moment later, warm and sticky with a looming threat of what could happen from this act. The groan he lets out is one you don’t think you will forget. He gives you his final thrusts, fucking you through each spurt of his cock, “Take it, oh fuck. Thaaat’s it.”

Time stands still after that. You don’t move despite him removing himself from you. Instead, you listen to him tugging himself back into his jeans, the rustling of the denim, and then the noise of his zipper and him buckling his belt.

After a moment more, his hands pull up off your shredded underwear and then he tugs your jeans up over your hips again. He hauls you up and holds your arms tightly so you don’t fall over once more. You don’t look at him and it seems to infuriate him. With a strong grip around your jaw, he forces your head towards him, “Hey, look at me.”

When you still don’t, he shakes your head a little, “Eyes here.”

You eventually follow through, vision blurry from how much you have cried. He scans your face, “You don’t tell anyone about this or I swear. I don’t usually hunt down pretty girls like you but I will. You go into your car and you drive away. I’ll watch you from here. Got it?”

Your body aches as you nod but your expression is blank, even when Joel pushes you out of his grip so you stumble and even when you see him stuff your panties into his pocket.

“Go,” he snaps when you’re still immovable.

You don’t know how but suddenly, you’re walking out the door, barely noticing where your feet hit the ground, and doing exactly what he has said. You probably shouldn’t even be driving let alone on the highway but you do until you feel nothing at all except his come dripping from your aching cunt.

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549 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 5 months

Note

I would actually LOVE to read about the proposal! How did it go down? Was Harris there? I think a blurb about that would be really special :)

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: A lazy Sunday morning turns into something much more special, thanks to your two favorite guys.

Warnings: pretty much none, just proposal fluff and a smidge of suggestive language at the end

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The proposal/Harris calling Ms. Sweetheart "mommy" was also requested by @hippiefairy02, @cheesewritings, @enam3l, @peachysink, and a handful of anons!

March 1998

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

Harris’s soft voice doesn’t carry over the sounds of running water and the sponge squelching soap bubbles along the lip of a coffee mug, the remnants of a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. He clears his throat and tries again, tugging on the back of your bathrobe as he shouts.

“Ms. Sweetheart?!”

You jump, pulled from your own thoughts, nearly dropping the cup among the sea of dishes cluttering the sink. Eddie had made scrambled eggs and toast for the three of you; a gesture you’d thoroughly enjoyed until you realized that the clean-up fell on your shoulders.

“Jeez, Har. What’s the emergency?” You catch your breath, allowing your heart rate to settle back to a normal rhythm, and shut off the faucet.

Harris wrinkles his nose, the bridge creasing in confusion. “There’s no ‘mergency,” he says, releasing his grasp and motioning for you to follow him. “I gotta show you something.”

You oblige with a soft laugh, haphazardly grabbing a dish towel to wipe the suds from your hands and wrists, and let him lead you to the kitchen table. Crayons are strewn across it, blues and purples and reds intermingled around his artwork.

“Whatcha drawing?” you ask, hands bracing the back of the chair he’s plopped down on. You peer over his shoulder and smile. It’s a picture of you, Eddie, and him. A full-fledged kindergartener, he’s been adding more details to his stick-figure family portraits: a vase of wildflowers sits atop a sienna oval table, black squares and rectangles above it represent the various photo frames hanging on the kitchen wall. This picture looks different than Harris’s usual set-up; he typically draws himself in the middle of you and Eddie, each of his hands overlapping yours and his dad’s. Today, he’s drawn you, then Eddie, then him. And your hands aren’t linked; instead, he’s used a silver crayon to place something in Eddie’s cartoon palm.

You furrow your brows and gesture towards the mystery object. “What’s that, Har?” It’s better not to guess, lest you say the wrong thing and inadvertently offend him. Just last week, you’d asked him if a small blue object in the sky was a bird, and he was on the verge of tears trying to explain that it was a UFO.

“Can’t you see the alien?” he’d wailed, pointing to a little green dot you’d assumed was a rogue eye.

Now, Harris grins. “It’s a proposing ring!” he announces. “That’s why you’re smiling so big!” Sure enough, the curved line of sketch-you’s mouth extends to both cheeks.

Real-you can’t help but mimic the beaming expression. Just the idea of Eddie proposing to you has you feeling giddy. You’d marry him tomorrow if you could; all he has to do is ask. Though your pulse quickens at the thought, you don’t want to build up Harris’s hopes for something that may not happen for a while. Pressing a kiss to his scalp with a soft giggle, you remark, “A proposing ring? That’s so silly!”

“Is it?”

The unexpected sound of Eddie’s voice has you whirling around, startled for the second time this morning. He’s still wearing his pajamas, flannel pants perfectly complementing your own cozy attire. He bites the inside of his lip, and when he takes your hand in his, you can feel it tremble slightly.

“Sweetheart, I…” he starts, trying to remember the speech he had rehearsed an absurd amount of times. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Sweetheart, I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night grateful for you. Never in my life did I think I would find someone who loved me the way you do; someone who loves my son like he’s their own.” He chokes up at the last part, blinking back the tears so he can press on. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I landed such an incredible, thoughtful, beautiful woman.”

You offer a small laugh, slightly easing his nerves, and he manages to smile. “You…you’re the love of my life, and my world is infinitely better with you in it,” he continues, pulling a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and sinking onto one knee. With shaky fingers, he opens the box to reveal a princess-cut diamond on a thin silver band. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god.” Elation and disbelief simultaneously surge through you, eyes going misty as the realization hits you. Eddie’s actually proposing. He wants you to be his wife, and he wants to be your husband. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” You’re laughing and crying, tears streaming down your cheeks; you sloppily wipe them away with the back of your hand.

Eddie stands up, the ring still in its case. You expect him to slide it onto your fourth finger; instead, he turns to Harris with a knowing expression. “Your turn, Har.”

Before you can question it further, Harris takes your hand in his, just like Eddie had. “Ms. Sweetheart,” he looks up at you with wide, exuberant eyes, “will you be my mommy?”

You scoop him up into your arms; he’s almost too tall for you to do it comfortably, and it pangs at your heart. “Yes, I will be your mommy, Harris!” You kiss his cheek with an exaggerated mwah, placing him back on the ground as he excitedly kicks his feet.

With that, Eddie puts the engagement ring on your finger triumphantly, pulling you in for a hug that squeezes the breath out of your lungs. His lips find yours without hesitation, kissing you as long as Harris will allow before the kid becomes impatient.

“Mommy?” The title rolls off of his tongue so easily, bringing with it fresh batches of tears for both you and Eddie. Mommy. You’re Harris’s mommy. The close bond you’ve already developed strengthens in that moment, and you vow to wear your badge of Chosen Mom with pride.

“Yeah, Har?”

“Can we celebrate with ice cream?”

“It’s, like, 9:30 in the morning,” Eddie laughs, scrunching his nose. “I don’t even think Scoops Ahoy is open yet.”

Harris pouts but ultimately relents, on one condition. “Then…can we go when it opens?”

You look at Eddie, who delivers his seal of approval with a quick nod. “I think that can be arranged.”

As Harris cheers, you sneak a glimpse of the new jewelry adorning your finger. It daintily sparkles even under the kitchen lighting, a perfect depiction of your love for one another.

Eddie’s hands snake around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “How’d I do?” he asks with a goofy, lopsided grin. “Is my future wife happy with her ring?”

You turn around, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his, desperate for a moment of intimacy. “I love it. And I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“And me?” pipes up a little voice.

“Both of you,” you amend with a giggle. Pleased with your answer, Harris returns to his crayons and construction paper.

Eddie’s voice is a melodic whisper in your ear. “After our family ice cream date, maybe you and I can celebrate a bit more privately?” You can practically hear his teasing smirk at the raunchy implication.

“We can pick up champagne on the way home,” you murmur back, heat blossoming in your belly. You’re no longer just a girlfriend, but a fiancée, a future wife, and there is nothing else you crave more than the touch of your future husband.

And while you and Eddie finish washing the dishes with a plethora of stolen kisses, Harris picks up a green crayon and titles his drawing, just like he’d learned in art class:

Mommy, Daddy, and Harris.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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countlessimagines · 1 year

Text

New Guy Around [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]

!!!!!! GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!!!

Summary: While helping rebuild Nowhere, you get to know the man who tried to kill your friends.

A/N: I’ve loved Will Poulter since I was 13 so of course I would fall in love with Adam Warlock <3 also my apologies for this kind of being small, my future imagines of him will definitely be longer! Enjoy for now though loves!!

MASTERLIST LINK

It was a normal day for you when you began to talk to Adam; wake up to little raccoons climbing all over you, eating breakfast with Rocket and Groot, and helping Drax with the kids.

It usually consisted of Drax translating what they’re saying while you tried to get them settled into new homes with people willing to take them in.

And as usual, Adam would stroll around like a lost puppy trying to figure out what to do for the day. While he made himself useful by going person to person, today he looked more confused than ever.

You still weren’t on the best terms with him, despite the rest of the guardians giving him a second chance. It didn’t help that they told you what he was trying to do before they rescued him.

With a deep sigh, you let Drax deal with the children for the day and walked over to Adam.

“Do you need something to do?” You asked him and he seemed a bit startled that you were actually talking to him.

“Uh, yes?” Adam said and immediately began to follow behind you as you made your way to your small apartment. It had been destroyed pretty badly in the fight, and you could use all the help you could get into repairing it back to normal.

While your place was livable, it still needed something to make it more of a home.

You let Adam in and instructed him on fixing one of the walls with many holes in it. He got right to work and was pretty silent the whole time. Meanwhile, you straightened up your work desk littered with plants, pots, soil, and little figurines you built for the children.

“Can I ask you a question?” Adam said, taking you out from your little flow of organizing.

You hummed a yes and waited for whatever question he was going to say. You honestly weren’t in the mood for a conversation, though.

“For all those plants on your desk, you sure don’t decorate this place enough.”

You turned sharply to him, wondering why it was relevant to ask such a thing. “Maybe if the people you had been working for hadn’t ruined my place, I would be able to put things up by now. But no, I have to fix it first.”

“All I’m saying is a flower on your table would suffice.” Adam shrugged and began to work again.

You rolled your eyes and continued to replant some of the white flowers you knew Groot loved. “If you must know I gift these flowers to people I care about.”

Adam stood up from the ground and walked over to your desk. “Will I get one of them?” He was teasing you with a smile and a question you knew was a joke.

“Maybe one day if you don’t mess it up for yourself,” you said and glanced up at him. He was significantly taller than you, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed how close he was. “And maybe, just maybe if I forgive you for trying to kill my friends.”

Adam nodded and promptly began to work again. “I will win you over.”

Then it became normal for Adam to arrive every morning at your door to help repair the rest of your apartment.

While he worked, you would either tend to your plants or build figurines for the children. It kept both of you busy and eventually a comfortable silence would fall between the two of you. Well, besides Rocket blasting music over the speakers.

Adam would often go to your desk, do a little nod of approval at what you were creating, then go back to working. You would tend to sneak looks at him, thinking he didn’t notice but he always did.

You hated to admit that you found the golden man attractive, and fought against the thoughts that plagued your mind about him. You didn’t want to get close to him… yet.

Adam was very helpful and extremely nice to you, and you could tell he was trying to make up for his past transgressions. You felt bad for being an ass to him, and one day you tried to make up for it. You made him a figurine of his pet that always seemed to find its way to him.

You had left it at his apartment one night and thought nothing of it, expecting nothing in return.

It was the weekend now, and Adam tended to only help on weekdays, so you didn’t expect to wake up to him at your door. He was holding something behind his back, but you didn’t ask any questions.

“Oh, um, good morning?” You said sleepily, still in pajamas.

“I wanted to stop by to say thank you for my gift.” Adam smiled and you noticed he had placed it in the pocket of his shirt.

“Of course, it was my way of saying thank you for all the help.” You did a small smile in return.

Adam shifted on his feet and pulled out a small daisy from behind his back. “I, uh, picked this for you. I know it’s not much but you always gift flowers to people so I thought you deserved one yourself.”

You grinned happily and accepted the flower with a thank you. The tiny flower meant the world to you and Adam seemed ecstatic to give it to you.

“That’s the first ever gift I’ve given someone.” Adam looked so innocent and sad when he said that, almost as if his history did haunt him.

“It’s lovely.” You gave him a hug which took him by surprise but he gladly wrapped his arms around you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to…” Adam’s words trailed off in confusion, not finding the word he needed.

“Go on a date?” You helped him out, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Yes, that,” he said with his dorky smile and awaited your answer.

“I would love that.” You smiled brightly at him, delighted that Adam ended up being a sweet person beneath all the gold.

#Adam warlock #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #gotg vol 3 #gotg fanfiction #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon #Adam warlock x reader #Adam warlock imagine #will poulter x reader #will poulter #will poulter imagine #starlord #Peter quill #mantis #drax the destroyer #groot

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autisticlancemcclain · 5 months

Text

this is how it started

———

This is how it continues: Keith holds his hand all the way to breakfast.

In itself not incriminating. Lance holds Hunk’s hand all the time. He’s always got an arm around Pidge’s shoulder. Shiro is amused by Lance’s incessant attempts to have them skip about with their arms linked. Sometimes he offers his arm to Allura with the poshest expression he can muster, just to make her laugh. Not all of his attempts are entertained by his friends, of course, but there’s nothing novel about Lance attaching himself to people as they move about.

Keith reaching out, as they walk out of the bedroom they just shared, and linking their hands together easy as pie is, however, novel.

Everything is so bizarre. It’s worsened, really, after a night of decent sleep (in a real genuine mattress!), because it’s just not what Keith and Lance…do. They race each other to doorways, yanking on hoods or sticking out legs to trip and get ahead. They escalate from light shoving to full on wrestling in the middle of conversations. Keith is not exempt from Lance’s constant need to touch, sure, but it’s never — like this. Light, easy, comfortable, familiar.

(It was, briefly, at the end. When on their way to meetings and briefings and missions even Keith’s hand would rest on the small of Lance’s back. Absentmindedly. Unnoticeable. But a he left a week after it started, and as far as he’s concerned anything started in that era has long since been left behind them.)

They’re late — the rest of the team has already gathered. Pidge and Allura are half asleep on either of Shiro’s shoulders, and Coran and Hunk are arguing intensely but playfully about a pile of unrecognisable goo that Lance has learned to recognise as the space version of oatmeal. Hunk pokes it in disgust. Coran feigns outrage.

All five faces turn to them as they approach, and Lance can’t place a single one of their expressions. He is made suddenly aware that he has loosened his grip on Keith’s hand when he feels him squeeze three times, quickly in succession.

“…Huh,” Shiro says after a moment, eyes trained on their clasped fingers. His face is carefully blank. No one else offers any commentary.

“How’d y’all sleep,” Keith asks, pulling out a chair. Lance realizes after a beat that it’s meant for him, and he flushes up to his ears. He tugs his hood over his head and nearly upends the table in his haste to melt into the offered chair. Keith, in contrast, sits down next to him and rests an arm over the back of Lance’s chair so smoothly it has to be practiced.

Pidge makes a choking noise, cheeks puffed up like she barely managed to keep her mouth shut. Hunk has both hands clapped over his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Lance hisses, face redder than his lion.

Keith’s fingers brush his shoulder. He sinks further into his chair and tugs his hood down lower.

“I slept exceptionally,” Allura says loudly. The look she cuts Lance’s way is straight-up evil, and Lance knows what’s coming, and for several agonizing seconds he considers grabbing the spoon from the goo bowl and stabbing it straight through his eye. “The beds were very comfortable, didn’t you find, Keith?”

You are so dead to me, Lance thinks at her. He even thinks i’m in Altean so the fury can reach her properly.

“Yeah.” Keith leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. Lance’s face gets exponentially redder, and the peanut gallery starts screeching quietly, but despite himself he — leans. Into it. And Keith notices, because his mouth curves into a smile, and he presses another kiss to the curve of Lance’s jaw before pulling away. “Slept right for the first time in two years.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Shiro says, reminding Lance once again that he is, in fact, Lance’s hero, actually, last few months notwithstanding. He shoots Lance a fond, teasing smile, then turns back to Keith. “My question is: what the fuck?”

“Seconded,” Pidge agrees through a mouthful of goo.

Hunk grimaces at her. She shoves three more bites of goo into her mouth then opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue at the yellow paladin, just to be disgusting. With a scandalized “gross, Pidge!” Hunk shoves chair away and marches to the other side of the table, leaving Pidge sniggering.

Keith watches the whole thing with a smile on his face soaked in so much sadness Lance’s chest physically aches with it. He darts out a hand and wraps it around Keith’s, squeezing it in a mirror of the way he did before. Keith smiles gratefully at him, pulling up his hand and kissing the back of it. Somewhere, Lance hears someone mutter: “Christ alive.”

“There was a — shipwreck, of sorts,” Keith explains eventually. His voice is soft. “Krolia and I flew too close to something. Our intel was outdated. When we finally made it out of the wreckage we were stranded on the back of a space whale, and time was…stretchy.”

“That explains so very little,” Shiro says, shaking his head. He stabs his spoon in some goo. “Space has done little but piss me off in the last couple years, if I’m being honest. Keith, I swear to God I’m going to ground you.”

Keith grins. “Fat chance, old man. I outrank you now.”

“That’s what you think.”

Lance watches them both critically as they argue. Well, ‘argue’. They’re both grinning too hard for any real animosity. And exhaustion still lines Shiro’s features, and he still leans onto Allura for support, but there’s a brightness in his eyes that’s been missing for months. And Keith is —

Keith is here, leaping to his feet, spoon of goo bared dramatically, and he is tired too but he is warm and soft, somehow, and the weight that Lance has always watched on his shoulders seems to have lifted. There is an easiness to him now that there wasn’t before. And Lance notices and cannot stop noticing, because he is beautiful, and because for some reason he has decided to plant himself next to Lance, closer than before, and bleed his warmth. And Lance is supposed to be the lighthearted one and the joking one and the easy one. That is his role. That is what he knows how to play.

But he’s been struggling. And the role has not come easy. And last night he had cried until he slept in Keith’s arms and Keith had held him and checked the room and kissed his hair and has yet to let go of him.

Lance looks at Keith and thinks to himself: maybe just this one thing.

Keith reaches half over the table and musses his brother’s hair, pushing him back into Allura’s careful hold and sitting heavily back in his own seat. He frowns, staring at the space that has grown between his chair and Lance’s during his roughhousing. Slowly, he reaches over and grabs the bottom rung of Lance’s chair, dragging him over until the space between them has disappeared, then he nods once to himself, satisfied, and throws an arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him even closer.

And Lance thinks to himself: oh, God.

For a moment Lance is tense. He feels the stares of the rest of the team, teasing and interrogating all at once. He can already anticipate their questions, probably on par with his own.

Keith rests his cheek on top of Lance’s head.

“You good?”

Suddenly, none of that seems to matter. He thinks to himself: I need to sit him down and ask what the hell is going on.

Keith’s thumb starts to gently brush back and forth on the cusp of his shoulder.

He says: “I am now.”

This is how he lets it continue.

———

this is how it ends

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bbytamaki · 1 year

Text

RIDE MY FACE, I DON’T WANT NOTHING IN RETURN

content: aot’s top 5 biggest munches, modern au, bed humping, spit in mouth, nsfw link in eren’s, face sitting, squirting, toys (vibrator), creampies, cum eating, consensual photography

genre: nsfw (MDNI)

note: self indulgent oops (〃ω〃)

1. hange

hange gets off on giving you head and there’s no doubt about it. after a long and tiring day they still don’t want you to lift a finger. just give them one taste and that’s all they need to relax (but they’ll definitely ask for more).

hange has your ankles pushed up by your ears and they’re steadying you by holding their hands just below your knees. they’re the type to grind on the bed uncontrollably while eating you out, and they tend to lose control of how tight they’re gripping your thighs. what can we say, hange just doesn’t know their own strength?

2. eren

dirty, disgusting, filthy. spits on it, eats it like a man starved, then comes back up to spit it back in your mouth and give you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. he has absolutely no shame. even when you whine into the pillow that this position is embarrassing, it’s not stopping him from bending you to your limits.

if you’ve ever seen that one twt video of a couple 69ing and the guy is gripping and spreading her ass while he’s absolutely going to town, you’re looking at eren. sometimes he can be polite though. his favorite way is to wake you up with “good morning” clit kisses and take you out to breakfast <3

3. connie

he’s never been above begging. like actually on his knees groveling. but once he’s in there, he’s in there and he’s not coming up for air at all. he doesn’t care about size, if he tells you to take a seat you better sit all the way down.

if he thinks eating you out in the back of his expensive car is a good enough apology he is absolutely correct. complete with kisses all the way from the ankle to right above where you really need him. he’s desperate but he can be mean like that.

4. mikasa

“squirting contest!! let’s see who can squirt the farthest >:)” it’ll always be you. no question. she’s not satisfied until you’re tapping the bedframe twice to let her know you can’t take anymore. that “can’t do it mika” is music to her ears.

she uses every available resource at every opportunity. she’s switching between her tongue and your favorite vibe every couple seconds and evil laughing when she watches your body jolt when you make a mess on her whole upper body.

5. reiner

i had to decide who was taking the last spot and reiner’s here for good reason. as soon as he gets done stuffing you like a fucking twinkie he’s on his knees cleaning up your mess. he loves how you can just barely take all of his cum at once, and he loves tasting you and him together.

he’s bending you over the kitchen counter and holding you back against his chest when he starts slowing down to make a mess all in your insides before he lets you rest a little bit. of course he has to take a picture for your private collection before you’re on all fours on the counter, cumming over and over until he’s tired <3

#minors look away #attack on titan #aot smut #aot headcanons #aot x reader #eren smut #eren x black reader #connie smut #hange smut #mikasa smut #reiner smut #reiner x black reader #snk smut #snk headcanons #snk x reader

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unseededtoast · 12 days

Text

Shadow of Obsession | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Part Two

Series summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Part One

"And for a glimpse of her, I'd run to the ends of the Earth."

You wake before the sun rises, your mind still an entangled web of thoughts from the night before. Rubbing your eyes, you quickly remember that Spencer stayed over and you at least owe him breakfast. You know that the futon isn't the most comfortable, especially not for someone his size. And though you had told him at least two more times before bed that he didn't have to stay, he was adamant that he didn't mind. And plus, it's not the first time he's stayed over and you hope it isn't the last. It's nice to be able to wake up and have someone there. Things can get lonely sometimes.

With sleep still heavy in your eyes, you walk to the kitchen and decide to make pancakes; something simple yet sweet enough to satiate Spencer's sweet tooth. Plus it's a good excuse to use the strawberries in your fridge, they're about to go bad in a few days.

It doesn't take long before the pancakes are ready and the smell wakes Spencer. You try to hide your smile as he saunters to the table, his hair messy from the night. It's endearing, how casual he is when it's just the two of you. Usually Spencer is guarded to some extent, but when it's just the two of you, there's nothing to hide. You had seen each other at extreme lows and celebrated the highs together for years.

"These are so good." He says as he goes to take another bite. You're still not sure how he's so thin considering his diet is likely 70% sugar. And you've often thought that if things don't work out with the BAU that you could find employment at Spencer's personal chef.

"Take as many berries as you want." You nudge the container over to him, hoping he takes more so that they don't go to waste. Thankfully he reaches in for another handful of them.

You finish your breakfast before he does, and you try to hide the yawns from him. But unfortunately, he can read you just a little too well. Before he even opens his mouth to ask a question you see him frown and his eyebrows draw close.

"How'd you sleep?" He finally asks, breaking the momentary silence. You contemplate lying for only a split second but realize it wouldn't be worth the argument.

"Not well. My mind just kept racing." You tell him, to which his frown deepens. He eats another strawberry before he answers.

"I've been there before. It's easy to fixate on something and obsess over it. But we'll find out who sent them, Monday morning." His tone of finality puts you at ease, and you hope he's right. Even if he thinks this endeavor is silly, you know he will help you see it through, that's just how you two are.

You offer him a soft thanks and let the room fall back into a comfortable silence. And for the first time ever you find yourself anxious for a Monday morning.

-----

The air is crisp as you walk into work Monday, your footsteps are quick and your heart pounds, eager to get some answers. Your bag slung over your shoulder hits your back with every step, exacerbating the nerves. Before Spencer left on Sunday evening, he had assured you that he would go with you to ask the receptionist and you hope he's already in the office waiting on you, for you're not sure if you have the strength to wait for him.

When the elevator dings you rush into the office, but your mood is instantly turned sour. Something just isn't right. You feel Derek's eyes on you, you see Emily peek at you from overtop her monitor. Even JJ lets her gaze linger as she walks by. And eventually your eyes land on Spencer, who's standing in front of your desk with an unreadable expression.

Quickly, you walk to your desk and see what's caused the off kilter atmosphere. There, in the middle of your desk, is a brand new bouquet of flowers. A mixture of red, yellow, and white tulips. They're beautiful, but for some reason they make your stomach turn. Your eyes are quick to see the note hidden amongst the green stems, and you snatch it from the vase.

"Each bloom is a chapter of our story so far, a story not yet complete." You read out loud, blood feeling like ice running through your veins. With a shaking hand you pass the note to Spencer, whose eyes betray his calm demeanor.

"This is-this is not a coincidence." He confirms your fears and you nod, fighting back the bile in your throat.

"What do these flowers mean, Spence?" You ask him, trying to keep your voice level to mask just how unnerved you are. He sighs and looks at the flowers before speaking.

"Red represents passion and love, yellow stands for hopeless love and jealousy, and white is forgiveness." He says, your eyes moving to each color as he speaks.

"Forgiveness?" It strikes you odd that whoever is sending these included something that represents forgiveness. Spencer's eyes narrow and you can tell he's using his profiler mind and not his friend mind anymore.

"It's like whoever sent these is telling you they forgive you of something, and that they still hold strong romantic feelings." His words do not comfort you.

"What would they have to forgive me for?" You shake your head, trying to find some sort of answer. You stayed holed up in your apartment with Spencer all weekend. It's not like you were around other people where you could've inadvertently offended someone.

"I'm not sure." Spencer's voice is still soft, and he lays the note next to the vase.

"What should we do?" You ask, hoping he has some idea. You're not sure if you should make a deal of this or just leave it be and hope that whoever is responsible loses interest soon. Spencer shrugs,

"That's up to you. I'll support whatever you decide." He says, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Before he returns to his desk your eyes linger on the flowers. You're no closer to an answer than you were a few moments ago and so you hope that the answer will come to you as you go about your day.

But trying to concentrate on your mystery becomes increasingly difficult as the maintenance workers continue replacing the cameras. Their tools are noisy, they're noisy, and it doesn't allow for an atmosphere that condones constructive thinking in any capacity. The sound of a drill echoes through the bullpen and you stand from your desk, unable to take it any longer.

Your feet take you to the one place you know those workers wouldn't dare try to install cameras, Penelope's office. You knock on her door and her smiling face answers in record time. She welcomes you into her office which is quiet and you feel yourself relax instantly.

"Welcome back." She smiles as she shuts the door behind you. You take a seat and are immediately grateful that she's so secretive and protective over her technology.

"Thank you for letting me stay here for a little." You practically invite yourself into her space but you know she won't mind. You let your eyes close in an attempt to try and concentrate and she takes her own seat and types for a little while before you hear her chair spin around.

"I love having you here, don't get me wrong, but, why exactly are you here?" You knew her curiosity was going to get the best of her. And you suppose that if you're invading her space you owe her at least a little bit of an explanation.

"The people installing the new cameras are too loud, couldn't think." You tell her with a sigh and run a hand over your face to try and rid the frustration that lingers.

"It's weird that it's taking them more than a day. I haven't been able to connect to them yet." She says and glances over at her monitor.

"I wish you could. Someone left flowers again." You further explain, knowing that you can trust her. Besides Spencer, Penelope has grown to be one of your closest confidants. You see her eyebrow arch.

"More flowers?" You nod, confirming her question.

"With a note this time. Each flower represented a chapter of our unwritten story." You summarize for her, trying to remain calm and collected about the incident while your mind still runs a mile a minute trying to figure it out.

Penelope's face turns from curious to worried; she's less skilled at hiding her emotions than you. Instead of watching her micro-expressions change as her thoughts race as well, you look down at your hands and pick at the skin around your nails. It's an old habit you had kicked a while ago, thanks to the constant nagging of Spencer, but it seems the stress has caused the urge to resurface.

"I'm sure you all will be able to figure it out, you always do." Penelope finally settles on reassurance when she breaks the silence. You really want to believe her, but an odd feeling settles within you, one that tells you this is going to be anything but easy.

You decide to take refuge in her office for the rest of the day.

-----

The keys on your keyring jingle as you unlock your door. It's dark when you enter and you figure you must have forgot to turn a lamp on before you left this morning. Usually it's part of your routine, but with everything that's been going on lately it's entirely likely it just slipped your mind.

Without a thought you sling your bag on your couch and shuffle over to the lamp. Your apartment is bathed in warm lighting and you go to close the curtains. Spencer isn't staying over during the week, though you know he would if you asked him to. But really, there's no practical need, he just makes you feel safe.

You go about your evening routine as usual, cleaning the sink from the weekend and tidying up the messes you let go for too long. As you fold the blankets Spencer had used over the weekend, you notice how they still smell like him. Your chest aches slightly as you realize he won't be out here tonight, but fold it up and drape it over the back of the couch, not letting yourself dwell on the thought for too long.

The sound of your phone dinging distracts you momentarily, and the message confuses you.

'Did you retag the evidence I collected on the last case by chance?'

The message is from Spencer, and your eyebrows draw tight in confusion. You type a reply back, telling him you hadn't touched the evidence at all. Why would you have retagged his evidence? The message just adds further confusion to the day, and your eyes grow heavy. Spencer doesn't end up replying and so you plug your phone in and get into bed.

The room is dark, which usually you enjoy, but now, it just feels ominous. You know it's unreasonable, but you get back up and recheck that the front door is locked. It is, like it always is. But your mind isn't content with that knowledge. On impulse, you grab your service weapon and take it back to the bedroom with you, laying it on your nightstand. You then lock your bedroom door before getting back into bed.

You know that your behavior is likely overboard and overdramatic for the situation, but you can't help but to think of all the other cases you've worked that started out exactly like this. It always starts with something small, something insignificant, but then it grows into something bigger, something dangerous.

Multiple women you recall have fallen victim to someone who was obsessed with them. And it was never just for one common reason, no, the people who obsessed over them did it for different reasons. And that's one of the reasons that the flowers are striking so much fear into you. You're not sure why you were chosen, what you did that triggered this, and it's the unknown that makes you uncomfortable.

Throughout the night you toss and turn, body becoming coated in a light layer of sweat from anxiety and stress. No matter what you do or try to think about, your mind brings you right back to colorful petals. The words left on the note echo in your mind and they intermingle with Spencer's voice as he explained what the flowers represent.

This is the first night in a long time that you were unable to get a wink of sleep.

-----

Unknown POV

Before I leave work for the day I decide to stop by the sixth floor. The lights are all off so I know nobody is in there, which is strange because the agents in the BAU are known for working late and odd hours, but I don't question it. Opening the glass doors I make my way to her desk, where I see both bundles of flowers still on her desk where I left them.

A hot rage surges through me, why hadn't she taken any of them home? They're all beautiful flowers, I would only allow for the best of quality to be used in her bouquets.

But soon my rage is turned to worry; what if she's allergic? Or what if they're not her favorite kinds of flowers? Have I been underperforming this entire time? Is that why she hasn't taken them home with her?

My heart drops in my chest and I know I have to do better. She deserves it. Looking around I decide to take a trip to the evidence room. Luckily my badge has permissions to let me in and to my joy, there's evidence that has yet to be catalogued. There to the right is a box full of blank tags and I waste no time.

I find every piece of evidence with his name on it and switch it out for tags that bear her name. He doesn't deserve the credit for helping solve the case, no, not when I know it's her brilliant mind that likely carried the entire investigation. Once again just another example of how nobody appreciates her enough, not like me.

Maybe this will give her some of the recognition she deserves. It barely scratches the surface of what she's fully worthy of, but I am willing to do whatever it takes for her to shine, for her to finally notice me and how devoted I am to her.

A fuzzy feeling resides in my chest as I think about her getting the credit she's rightfully owed. Oh, her smile would be so bright, so beautiful. And as I tie the knot in the last tag I feel the urge to check on her tonight. Checking the watch on my wrist, I know that if I leave now I'll likely make it before she turns off the lights.

And for a glimpse of her, I'd run to the ends of the Earth.

But just as I'm leaving I hear footsteps in the office, seems like they're not all gone after all. Before whoever it is rounds the corner, I hurry to leave so that it seems I was never there.

-----

"It's just weird. I know I tagged these just earlier yesterday morning." You and Spencer stand in the evidence room where you see his evidence has been tagged with your name. It's not handwriting that you recognize either.

You take a tag in your hand and inspect it closer, as if the answer would just jump out at you. But with no such luck you sigh and drop the tag with your name on it.

"I don't know Spencer. I swear I didn't touch it." You tell him and he looks over to you momentarily and nods.

"I know you didn't, you didn't come in here at all yesterday. In fact, I didn't see anyone else come in here after me." His eyebrows scrunch together as he recalls yesterday with perfect precision.

"So that means someone came in here after we were gone." You conclude, it's the only thing that makes sense. His eyes meet yours and you sense the underlying worry he's trying to hard to hide.

"It's the only thing that makes sense." He says, and the two of you stand in silence, looking at the incorrect tags.

Unable to stand the sight of them any longer you take them off and replace them with ones that are labeled with Spencer's name. An unsettling feeling comes over you as you wonder who may have had the motivation to do this. And unfortunately there's only one person who comes to mind, though you don't know who they are.

You and Spencer leave the evidence room without another word, the two of you wrapped up in your own thoughts. And you know when and if he has something to say that he will come to you, and vice versa.

The two of you return to your respective desks and you sit rigidly, staring at the flowers. It's like they're taunting you, but you know it's best not to throw them away here, for whoever is keeping an eye on you would likely take great offense to it. Instead, you push them to the side, where they will hopefully stay out of sight and mind.

The typing of your team members acts as white noise while you mechanically go through reports you need to finalize. Everyone had given their final edits to the official reports, they're all just waiting on you, and you know Hotch is likely to become agitated if you don't get your final approval in soon.

Your eyes scan over the documents and just before you go to submit your final approval, you notice something odd. Scrolling back up on the document you see that a detail of the case was altered. Where it should have read "Agent Morgan apprehended the suspect" it now reads that you apprehended the suspect.

With shock you read it over and over again to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you, but sure enough the words stay the same. You print off the page and take it to Spencer, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. He reads the report with inhuman speed, his eyebrows creasing together. He keeps his voice low and level when he speaks,

"That's not how it read when I gave my approval." He confirms and you thank him before moving to Derek's desk. The chain of approval had gone from Spencer to Derek, then to Emily, JJ, and Rossi before you. If necessary, you'll take it to each of them to figure out when the change was made.

"What's up sweet thing?" Derek asks when you approach him. Trying your best you give a weak smile before handing him the page.

"I just noticed the detail wasn't right and I just wondered what had happened." You use your skillset to keep your tone of voice nonchalant. Derek reads over the page and shakes his head,

"No, I would've noticed if that had been changed." His eyes narrow at the paper before he hands it back to you. You thank him before moving on down the line.

By the time you get to Rossi, each one of them had denied seeing or making the change. And you have no reason to doubt them, they're all very detail oriented and have no motivation to make such a change. But then if it wasn't one of them, who could it have been?

Feeling a pit of dread in your stomach, you take the page to Hotch. In his office he sees you enter and lays his pen to the side. His expression is stoic as per usual and you lay the piece of paper on his desk in front of him. He reads the page and then reads it again before he finally looks at you.

"Why are you showing this to me?" You can clearly hear the confusion in his voice, and you realize that it may look like you're trying to alter events yourself. A shock runs through your body and your eyes grow wide, with a quick shake of your head you point to the altered sentence.

"Nobody made those changes, sir. And I just noticed the change right before I almost submitted my approval." You explain to him with rushed words. Hotch looks between you and the paper once again.

"So you're telling me that after Rossi submitted his approval that someone altered the report?" Hotch clarifies and you nod,

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Hotch's stoic expression remains unchanged.

"Leave this here with me. Change the report back and make no further deal about it. This, paired with the evidence re-tagging and flowers is highly unusual and something we need to be vigilant about. Keep your cards close to you." Hotch orders and you nod, letting go of the paper so he can stow it away in his desk where it's sure to be safe from prying eyes.

As you walk back out into the bullpen, you feel several pairs of eyes on you. You keep your eyes trained ahead of you and try to block out all thoughts and emotions as you return to your desk.

You act as if you're returning to your normal work, when instead you're going back into the archives and reading previous reports. You're curious as to what else could have been altered, things that maybe went unnoticed, simply overlooked.

By the end of the day, your eyes sting from staring at the screen for hours on end. Everyone begins leaving and you offer them half-hearted goodbyes, too consumed with finding other altered reports. It's only when it hits eight o'clock that Spencer finally gives in.

"Okay, come on. We've been here for over twelve hours. You need some rest." He says, taking your jacket off the back of your chair and handing it to you. With bloodshot eyes you look up at him, feeling tired but fueled by adrenaline and the need to know.

"Spencer I-"

"No, come on. We're getting you home." He says and reaches over to turn your monitor off. With a sigh, you relent and grab your jacket.

-----

Unknown POV

My hands clench the binoculars tightly as I see him walk in behind her. It's a work night and he's here? He should know better than to bother her when she needs a good night's sleep. I watch as he closes her door and makes himself at home. He goes into her kitchen and makes them dinner, which he serves her at the table.

He's sitting too close to her, he's smiling at her too much. I see the way he looks at her when she speaks, as if he's concerned about what she's saying. But I know the truth. He's only there to get something out of her. Whether it's an ego boost or something much worse, I know he's only using her. Just like he uses her on cases. He takes her ideas and takes credit for them, to which he is praised to no end.

After dinner my eyes are glued to her as the puts her hair up and approaches the window. Her hands rest on her hips as she looks around, and I take extra care to stay absolutely still. Even from the window I can see how beautiful she is. She has an effortless beauty most can never achieve.

But the moment is short lived as he comes over and closes the curtains for her. Through the sheer material I see him wrap an arm around her waist and lead her further into the apartment, away from the window.

Afraid I may break the binoculars, I put them down and decide to leave for the evening to get to work. If he wants to keep her from me, then I must do more to command her attention. She has to see what I can offer her, how I can make her life so much easier. She has to see how he's using her.

It's time I take things up a notch, so she can see that there is no lengths that are too great for her.

-----

"Spencer you really don't have to do this." You say with guilt residing heavily in your chest. The man is unrelenting though.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. You would do exactly the same for me if the roles were reversed." You bite your tongue, knowing he's right. He takes your silence as a victory and adjusts his position under the blankets.

After making dinner, Spencer insisted that he stay with you tonight. He said he could tell that your nerves are shot and that he knew you well enough to know you'd never be able to sleep alone in your apartment. Both of those things had been correct, but you feel terrible. You know the couch is uncomfortable for him, and you wish he'd think of himself for once. But while you feel guilty that he's staying, a part of you is happy that he's here.

"Well, I appreciate it, you know." You tell him, standing awkwardly in front of him as he lays on your couch. He smiles softly,

"I know. Now get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." His eyes glimmer in the soft lamp-light, and you feel your cheeks heat up. You wish him a good night before returning to your bedroom.

Tonight you don't lock your bedroom door and you don't keep your service weapon on your nightstand. You feel confident and safe with Spencer just a few feet away. As you get comfortable in bed, you begin thinking of ways you can repay his generosity. He's done more than enough for you lately, and he deserves to be thanked properly.

-----

Walking into work the next day, things are eerily quiet, which is never a good sign. Everyone seems to be glued to their screens, not bothering to tell you good morning. With nerves shooting up your spine, you put your bag down and turn your monitor on. Things are just as you left them, not even the flowers at the edge of your desk have been tampered with. Everything appears to be normal, but it feels anything but.

You try to ignore the suffocating atmosphere to pick up where you left off yesterday. You read report after report, but don't see anything that's been altered. The buzz of your phone gains your attention and you see a message from Penelope.

'When you get a chance could you please stop by my office?'

You put your phone in your back pocket and decide to bring her a cup of coffee. Due to the unusual quietness in the office, you hear two people talking as you approach and you hear your name come up in the conversation. Keeping a low profile, you hang back and try to listen.

"Something just doesn't feel right about it. I mean, all of this starts after the media gives Spencer the credit? I don't want to say anything but, it just seems too much of a coincidence." Derek's words make you sick to your stomach, you know exactly what he's talking about.

"I don't know, I don't think she would do something like this though." Emily's voice is heard next. You hear Derek sigh,

"I don't either, but who else could it be? We both saw what was changed. It's in my files and it's in your files. Maybe yesterday's discovery was on purpose, throw us all off the trail." Your eyebrows crease together, had they found more changes? And is Derek implying that you made those changes yourself?

Unable to stop yourself, you walk into the break room like you hadn't been eavesdropping and the two of them act casually, as if they hadn't been talking about you. Your heart thumps as their words echo in your mind.

Derek had brought up a case two months ago that caught national attention. It was a case of a serial killer that had been killing women in what seemed like a random pattern, but once you dug deep into the clues left behind you found out it was anything but random. The killer had been finding women who were having affairs behind their husbands' back, women who were having inappropriate relationships with their professors, or any other taboo relationship and killing them as a result. The killer would dump the bodies in empty fields. Some of the victims had their hair shaved, their teeth pulled out, their legs disfigured; and it all seemed so random.

You dug deeper into the victimology for days and found the connection of illicit affairs. It wasn't long until you connected the dots and found out that the unsub was meeting these women under the pretense of hooking up, and then he took their most redeeming, or seductive, quality from them. It was difficult to figure out how the unsub was finding these women, but eventually the team had figured out that the unsub was employing several methods of finding them. He found some on dating apps, some on college campuses, and some at bars.

And when the media picked up the story, they had all published that Spencer Reid was the mastermind behind the arrest. While that wasn't entirely true, it wasn't a complete lie either. You had worked together like you do in every other case. Sure, it upset you slightly that you weren't given your credit, but you got over it quickly. You and the team knew the truth and that was all that mattered to you. To be honest, the whole ordeal was almost forgotten by you.

You quickly make Garcia's coffee before leaving the break room, Derek and Emily still lingering in there. They probably want to continue their conversation. It irritates you that they think you're the one who altered the document, and you wonder what else they found that's leading them to that conclusion. But for now it seems like they want to keep their cards close to their chests.

Penelope welcomes you into her office with a strained smile, and you can't help but wonder if she's also suspicious of you. But you say nothing, instead you let her speak. She offers you a chair and then spins around to face her many monitors.

Her voice is quiet and calmer than usual.

"I was finally able to connect back into the cameras out there. And, something just doesn't make sense." She says and pulls up a footage file. The camera footage plays and you keep your eyes glued to the screen but you don't se what she's talking about. Looking over to her, you shrug your shoulders.

"I didn't see anything out of the ordinary." You admit. Penelope's lips fall apart and she rewinds the video.

"Right here. The shadow on the floor changed. Watch it again." She rewinds a little bit further and sure enough, you catch the moment that the shadow seems to jump on the floor.

"Okay so the shadow changed, maybe someone turned on a light? You try to rationalize and explain away the sharp change. But it doesn't seem like Penelope is buying the story. She sighs and looks back at the screen.

"The footage has been altered. All of the cameras have. The shadow is there for exactly ten minutes on each camera and then the shadow goes back to normal. And nobody else is seen exiting the office after the change." She explains, a familiar dread creeping up within you.

"So someone didn't want us to see what happened in here last night." You state, voice void of all emotion. Penelope just simply swallows and nods.

A part of you wants to run for the hills, away from this person and the chaos they're creating. The other part of you, the profile part, is becoming more and more determined to find out who this is and put an end to their antics.

You thank Penelope for showing you and ask her to save the footage in a secure place. Your determined nature is overpowering the childlike fear that threatens your mind; you're ready to get your hands dirty and get to work.

When you walk back into the bullpen you see Derek, JJ, Emily, Rossi, and Spencer all looking at you with a quizzical, and perhaps slightly skeptical look in their eye. First thing's first, you need to figure out why they think you're responsible for the document changes.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #bau team #penelope garcia #derek morgan #criminal minds fandom

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tsukimefuku · 6 days

Text

CHAPTER ONE: PUTATIVE SELF DEFENSE ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ putative self-defense.

when a person believes they are in imminent danger and acts in what they believe would be self-defense, when, in reality, the threat does not exist or is not as severe as perceived.

wc: 5.9K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ summary.

after your roommate fails to replenish the coffee in your dorm room, you drag your insomniac ass towards the cafeteria before heading to your first criminal law class. unfortunately, things don't go as expected — it's so, so much worse than you could have anticipated. at least, your personal torturer is very good-looking, and has the most beautiful hooked nose you have ever seen.

❀ Tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. silly slow-burn rom-com between professor and college student (this is purely a work of fiction, okay guys?) reader is kind of a mess (like, literally). this is cliché with some twists. nobara is the best and worst roomie ever. nobamaki is a thing here. nobody likes cafeteria coffee. higuruma has a best friend, i'm so happy about that. second hand embarrassment. misunderstandings are talked through and resolved. higuruma is a little unhinged, and we love him for that.

thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing this 🥺

Your morning was a clusterfuck.

Diving your face in ice cold water did absolutely nothing to wake you from your anxiety ridden all-nighter. The world felt like a half dazed hallucination by this point.

Your energy was running so low this morning that you wound up putting your jeans on top of your pajamas pants, throwing a coat over the rest of the mess, and twirling your hair into something that could barely be considered a bun, topping it all off with the ugliest scarf you had — a red polka-dot scarf.

It seemed to be a taunting from the Gods — this was, for some supernatural reason, the only scarf you ever found when you were running late, and you hated the thing, but feared that if you threw it away, some higher power would punish you, and you'd never find another scarf to wear.

You were also scared that if you tried taking a shower, you might end up sleeping under it.

"What are you doing?" your roommate asked, as you pulled your face from the bowl filled with water and ice cubes. "Jesus, you look like hell."

"Trying to crawl my way back to the world of the living. It's not working."

Nobara walked behind you and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a single slice of cheese and rolling it up to eat it.

"Oh, a breakfast fit for the champions" you mocked, while patting your face with a tea towel.

She scoffed. "Get off my ass, I didn't have the time for groceries."

"Oh, you totally had the time, you just spent it all with your girlfriend in her room!"

Nobara grabbed a crumpled tissue that she found over the counter and threw it in your direction.

You dodged it because you weren’t sure what the fuck that tissue had been used for cleaning.

"Leave me the hell alone! I deserved it before classes started," she complained, pouting.

You laughed as you walked towards the coffee machine, to see if some liquid energy would be enough to pump you through the day.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there already? Weren't you going to head into criminal law today or whatever?" she asked.

And you were, actually.

"So, how is he?" you inquired, tapping around the coffee machine and behind it, looking for the coffee powder.

"Professor Higuruma, you mean?" Nobara got up and walked towards her bed, throwing herself over it like a rag doll. "I still haven't had class with him, but according to Maki, he's kinda weird."

"Your girlfriend's definition of weird for the male faculty members is too broad, Nobara. She said the same thing about at least four or five professors."

She shrugged. "According to gossip, professor Higuruma had to take some time off academia after his PhD because of a mental breakdown."

"Well, he is the guy that got two masters degrees simultaneously and one PhD right after. I guess that does things to a person" you mocked, opening the cabinet drawer. Where is the coffee?

"Oh, that's why he's the head of two chairs?!"

"Yup, Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure Law."

"Well, from what Maki has told me, he likes to quiz his students on the spot randomly," Nobara stated as she pulled her phone from her night stand and began texting.

After looking all around and not finding the coffee powder, you were very much annoyed.

"Nobara, where is the coffee?"

"We don't have any," she answered nonchalantly, still with her eyes glued to her phone.

You whipped your head towards her so fast, you nearly hurt your neck.

"Nobara, I need coffee. This is not a drill! It's my first criminal law class!"

"Oh, future criminal defense attorney, you definitely need some coffee, no one in their good mind would be wearing whatever the hell that is," she noted, pointing at you. "Especially that ugly red thing around your neck. Why do you still have that?"

"Ugh, now I'll have to go into the cafeteria before class to drink their awful coffee, and it's entirely your fault. Wardrobe editing rights are officially revoked!"

You stepped towards the door grabbing your bag as you heard her ask, "Hhey, is that your pajamas top?"

"No!" you replied, pulling your coat over your hello kitty pajamas top, before going out.

***

I can't fucking believe this.

You got in line to buy an overpriced $2 coffee — overpriced because it basically tasted like dirty water flavored with the souls of the damned — as you looked at your watch nearly every twenty seconds or so.

This coffee was so bad you usually tried to cover it up with milk, syrup and whatever else they had at their clients' disposal, but the aftertaste was always — always — completely cursed.

While in line, you noticed the guy who stood in front of you, and got distracted from your hurry by his back, as silly as that might sound.

He was tall — not the tallest, but at least a head above you — and his black hair was neatly cut by the tail end where his neck met his black suit collar. His posture was a little crooked to the side, one shoulder hanging a little lower than the other, and it felt kind of… charming?

Realizing you were nearly burning a hole in the man's back with your eyes, you averted your gaze elsewhere.

This is pathetic. I'm pathetic.

You figured that you had to be really sleep-deprived — and, honestly, kinda lonely — to be simping over some random guy's back.

Not only that, but while waiting in line at the campus cafeteria, the less sexy place to ever exist.

Class. I need coffee. I need to get to class. I'm pathetic. I’m also almost late.

And almost late you were. Somehow, you managed to wait just until you'd be a little too fumbled on the clock in order to get your ass out of your dorm room's bed to do something about it, and never even bothered to check if there would be any coffee to be made.

Just one of the many minor self-sabotaging shit you pulled against yourself from time to time.

After grabbing the damned drink and tainting it with further things to mask its terrible taste, your sleepless and nearly-late ass, when running across the cafeteria, body slammed by accident the same guy that was in line right in front of you. He was then covered in your coffee — an unholy concoction of said beverage, cold water, milk, and pancake syrup for sweetening.

Not only that, but to top it all off, you chuckled right after you began apologizing, actually laughing at the poor man.

It wasn't because the situation was even remotely funny, or that you were cackling at his humiliation. You just had the laughter response to stressful or embarrassing situations.

At church, during the national anthem, at an accident, or in the middle of a very hard test — whenever you were really stressed, you found yourself having to hold your urge to cackle.

Unfortunately, even after twenty-seven years, this was something you hadn’t quite mastered yet.

As you tried to grab some napkins from the counter behind him, you slipped, ceasing the laughter immediately.

Instant karma. Seems fair.

Before you hit the ground, though, he held you by your waist and with a hand on your arm. You felt the taut muscles under the suit enveloping you and pulling you back on your feet in one dexterous, swift motion. His shoulders were not slouched anymore.

"Shit, shit, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, trying to shuffle yourself away from him. His grip was tight, clearly from someone that had just been startled, and his body felt warm — especially considering you had just covered the poor guy in hot liquid.

As you parted yourself from him, you finally took a good look at the man.

The best words to describe him right now were disheveled mess. His tie was crumpled, his white button shirt had a massive brown stain from the coffee spilled, his short black hair was messily pulled back leaving a few strands out to frame his forehead, and his ashy black eyes were clearly surprised as he tried to check if you were alright.

And that beautiful hooked nose.

He was definitely brooding and good-looking — the tired, overworked, insomniac, bags under his eyes and two steps away from sleeping on his feet kind of good-looking.

The front certainly matches the back.

Then, realizing your mind was doing whirls about his appearance, you shook your head for a moment, dispersing the thoughts away.

"It's fine, just let me-" he answered, taping his hands around his suit, seemingly looking for something.

You had nearly forgotten you were tight on time until you heard the bell ringing. He turned around startled when it rang, cussing something under his breath, which gave you the perfect opportunity to dash away.

"I'm very sorry! I'm really late for my next class, I need to run, but I'm so, so sorry!" you blurted as you took off running, feeling a tinge of guilt knowing full well you had left him alone to fend off for himself with that abominable coffee stain.

So, why clusterfuck?

When you arrived in class, having lost yourself on campus twice when running around like a dizzy duck in a fatigued haze trying to find the right classroom, you saw who was sitting at the professor's desk in front of the entire classroom.

That huge coffee spill was pretty visible, even if he had now closed his suit jacket on top of it.

Shit.

The man was fumbling around with some papers over his desk with one hand while he adjusted his glasses — that he wasn't wearing earlier — with the other.

You sat in the back of the classroom, which had an amphitheater architecture to it. If you were lucky enough, though, maybe he wouldn't notice you.

However, upon further inspection, you noticed that the back of the class was especially empty, and realized at that moment you were standing out like a sore thumb.

This couldn't get any worse, could it?

You wished for a hole to appear right under your feet and drag you down.

"So, good morning to you all. I apologize for my late arrival. As you can all tell, I had to face some unforeseen circumstances," he began, pulling on the edge of his jacket suit to reveal the brown-colored Rorschach of shame plastered over his white shirt.

Some students laughed, and you recoiled in your seat, praying this was all just a first-day-in-class-embarrassment type of dream.

It wasn't.

"Welcome to Criminal Law I. My name is Higuruma Hiromi, and I'll be your professor. I hope you all can learn a thing or two from me," he said, before stepping in front of his desk and sitting over it.

"So, I'd like to begin this class with the following question: what is fairness?"

Some hands jumped up, and you slid yourself under your seat even further, surely to hit the ground if you sunk any deeper.

Higuruma's eyes began darting around the classroom.

Something you'd learn in a second about him was that he liked to poke at the students who didn't seem keen in participating, just to create some stormy engagement and get truly unexpected answers.

The ones who lifted their hands, the classic know-it-alls, were the students he considered to be remarkably boring and utterly predictable.

"You," he stated, and it took you a few seconds — and multiple blinks — to realize his finger was pointing in your direction. "Girl with the red scarf, tell me what you think fairness is."

You were at a complete loss for words.

"I… I… Fairness…"

Then silence.

You couldn't muster up anything to say to save your life.

You really should have slept better.

He sighed, and tilted his head to the side.

"Guess I'll have to demonstrate it."

Nobody understood what the professor meant, and much to everyone's surprise, he began walking up towards you, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he did so.

Then, looking straight at you, he stood beside the exit door, and gestured towards it.

"Girl with the red scarf, please, leave this classroom."

Before you could actually be offended that he didn't even ask your name, you felt your stomach drop, and your face glow a warm, deeply uncomfortable red.

Out of everything you thought could happen, getting kicked out of the classroom within the first five minutes into a lecture wasn’t even listed as one of the top 10 alternatives.

What the fuck? Isn't that a little excessive?

Speechless, you grabbed your backpack from the ground, and lifted yourself up, standing there for a few seconds, completely dumbfounded. The classroom was silent enough that a needle falling on the ground could be heard.

And then, suddenly, the urge came upon you, raining down like a hailstorm.

Laughter bubbled up your throat, and you coughed a little, pursing your lips shut, scrunching your face all around, trying to avoid any sound from leaking out.

He looked at you a little puzzled, and seemed to be wondering if you were about to have a stroke.

You began walking towards the door, but as you were about to cross it, he extended his arm in front of you, blocking your passageway.

"Stay there for a second."

"What?" you asked, coughing a little to shy the laughter away, and his face was once again briefly puzzled when he heard your voice.

A few seconds later, he softly shook off whatever thought that was, and resumed speaking.

"Is this fair? Asking a student to leave a classroom because they failed to answer an open-ended question?" he inquired the other students, waiting for someone to answer.

"N-no, it's not," some guy answered from the front.

Higuruma gestured for you to seat back where you were, and you clumsily stepped your way back, face flustered in utter and absolute embarrassment. This was definitely how bad it all could get. Is he dunking on me for spilling coffee on him and running? That's petty.

The man was certifiably insane. He was lucky to be so good-looking.

"And why it is not?" he proceeded with the questioning, slowly walking back towards the front of the class again.

"It would be excessive to do so," another student answered.

"Correct. Precisely that, it would be excessive," Higuruma chimed, sitting back over his desk, legs mildly spread as he opened his suit jacket and mindlessly smoothed out his tie with one of his hands. "Criminal Law isn't just about subsuming a person's actions to something the law has described as a crime, and then mechanically submitting said person to some randomly prescribed penalty. Fairness is the most vital and important theoretical foundation when studying criminal law. Not answering a question could be considered some type of in-class offense, sure, and expulsion from the classroom is one possible way to punish the deviant student, but it would be disproportionate and unreasonable to do so."

His gravely voice filled that classroom with no effort whatsoever, and it was an actually pretty good exposition.

It was one thing to describe what a sunset looks like, and another, very different, was to actually show one happening in real time. Words paled in comparison to the crimson, purplish sky engulfing the end of a day.

Most of your teachers, up until this point, had simply begun writing something on the white board at the start of each class, and made less than memorable remarks while spitting out the theory written in the recommended books list in the syllabus. So distant, so abstract, so… Detached from real life.

This was thought-provoking. This was enthralling. Well, this was the reason you enrolled in law school in the first place.

For a moment, you forgot this professor had just exercised his petty revenge on you, propping yourself up with trepidation. Your tiredness was completely forgotten as his monologue ensued.

He was the real deal.

"Fairness. It will be your guide to assess if a given penalty after a verdict is adequate or not, if someone who acted in self-defense should be found innocent or exceeded their rights in doing so… If the law itself is good enough as it is or should be subject to change, because a penalty might be too high for a seemingly innocuous offense that shouldn't even be a crime in the first place."

Higuruma paused for a moment to let his students simmer on his words.

"Fairness is the be-all and end-all of Criminal Law. I need everyone to understand this before we proceed, because fairness will be our primary lens in this classroom when studying the subject. So, can I trust that all of you understood what fairness looks like, rather than what it can be conceptualized as?"

He darted his eyes in your direction, and you saw yourself unconsciously nodding in acquiescence.

You were sure you caught a whiff of a smile on his face right before he resumed his introductory class of principles in criminal law.

***

“We are the only nerds that do this in the teacher’s lounge,” Higuruma stated, as he made his next move on the checkers board.

“You’re probably right,” Higuruma’s best friend replied in his pristine striped gray suit vest, as he thought for a second before making his own move and taking three consecutive pieces of Higuruma’s checkers as he did.

Higuruma groaned in response. Why does he always win on checkers? Goddammit.

“How are you so good at this, Kento? Let’s play chess, just so then I get to win” he complained, leaning back against his chair. “ I can see you winning this one in three moves.”

Nanami huffed. “Checkers was your idea. Besides, we both have our classes soon, there wouldn’t be enough time for a proper chess game.”

Higuruma removed his glasses and slid them inside one of his suit jacket’s inner pockets, brushing the tips of his fingers against his closed eyelids. He couldn’t catch a wink of rest the previous night, anxious to be back in a classroom after such a long time.

It all became very blurry, so he put his glasses back on.

Higuruma didn’t know if he was eager, nervous, happy or dreading this day.

Perhaps a mix of everything and then some.

“I needed something to wake me up. I’ve barely slept, and I’m in dire need of some coffee.”

“You could try drinking the coffee from the teacher’s lounge,” Nanami pointed out, gesturing his head in the direction of a creepy looking and unkempt thermal bottle. “I wouldn’t advise you on it, though. Only professor Ieiri has been brave enough to drink it so far.”

“I guess I’ll take my chances with the foul cafeteria coffee, I might survive that.”

Nanami smiled as he looked at his friend.

“You’re too overly dramatic.”

At that, Higuruma scoffed.

“And you’re too underly dramatic. That’s why I teach the passionate, great chair of Criminal Law, and you’re responsible for the boring, sleep-inducing chair of Commercial Law.”

“It pays the bills pretty well at my firm,” the other professor retorted.

Higuruma lifted an eyebrow, as if offended that Nanami thought that argument would dissuade him from his stance.

They were both silent for a moment before Nanami spoke again, noticing the deep eye bags on Higuruma's face.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“No more than the usual,” Higuruma replied, shuffling on his chair, still focused on the checkers board.

Nanami lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, silent for a while, and Higuruma sighed.

“I mean it. I’m fine.”

Still a little unsure, Nanami nodded.

“Okay. Just reach out and come to my office if you need anything,” he offered, slight concern masked under the monotone of his voice.

“Aw, he likes me,” Higuruma playfully chanted. “So thoughtful of you, my dear.”

“Tsk, shut up,” Nanami scoffed as he got up, taking his neatly folded blazer on his bent arm, “and it’d take me two moves instead of three to have this victory over you.”

“Seriously?!” Higuruma exclaimed, glancing at the board. Upon further inspection, he realized his friend was right. “Shit.”

“Hiromi, go drink your coffee at once. You’re barely functional right now, there is absolutely no way you could teach a class in the state you’re in.”

“Kento, I could teach criminal law in my sleep,” Higuruma mused before lifting himself up. Nanami sighed as Higuruma exited the room.

***

This might be the worst coffee I’ve ever drank, Higuruma thought to himself as he put his cup over the counter and removed his glasses to pinch on his nose. It was all but a failed attempt to air out the foul taste of that watered down, sad excuse for a coffee.

He tried drinking it with nothing — no sugar, no milk, no sweetener, but this atrocity begged for anything to mask the old powder aftertaste.

After folding his glasses and throwing them in one of his suit’s inner pockets, Higuruma let out a heartfelt sigh, just hoping for things to go smoothly that day.

He'd have his hopes torn to shreds in seconds.

Some loud, hasty steps coming in his direction caught his attention, but as soon as he turned to face whoever that was, Higuruma was met with a hot splash all over his shirt and tie.

You have to be kidding me.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!”

He heard a female voice coming from the blurred face right in front of him. Her voice was what he’d call an unusually sweet — if worried — voice. It had a genuinely kind melodic quality to it.

Even if hasty, her words sounded like a heartfelt apology.

Then, she… chuckled?

Hm… What?

She seemed to lean over dramatically and grab something from behind his back.

However, on the way back with her arm, her body brushed against his in a worrying fashion, and Higuruma quickly realized she was about to fall. Even though he was over 24 hours sleepless, adrenaline and his reflexes kicked in, as he held her before she could hit the ground, pulling her against him to stand on her feet.

He was still somewhat disoriented from lack of sleep, and failed to realize his hand was still holding her arm intently before the woman squiggled away from his grip.

There was a red blurry thing under her also blurred face.

Only then did he realize he should probably see her face and talk to her properly about the debacle.

The professor said it was fine and began tapping around his suit, not remembering in which pocket exactly he threw his glasses in. However, before he found it, the bell that indicated the time for the first class rang, and Higuruma realized he had completely lost track of time.

"Fuck," first class and already running late.

The woman seemed to apologize and ran away, leaving him dumbfounded.

The professor finally managed to find his glasses, fishing them out of his pocket and putting them on, glad that his next class was at the building just around the corner.

He walked hastily towards it, and got there in less than a couple of minutes, seizing the opportunity to check on his state on the mirror as he entered the elevator.

The coffee stain was humongous and very evident on his white shirt, but he was glad that at least his black tie seemed to fend off fine from the beverage. As Higuruma passed his fingers over the fabric of both pieces, however, it was somewhat sticky.

He let out a disheartened sigh, stepping out on the corridor and into the classroom, placing his briefcase on the side of his desk.

Now, what will I teach these people today?

Hiromi began ruffling around his papers trying to find the course syllabus, and realized he hadn't brought it with him. These papers were nothing but useless administrative shenanigans, so he decided to wing it in any way he could to illustrate criminal law for the students.

The thing is, how can you effectively grab someone's attention when it's 7 o'clock in the morning, and most people are completely hungover?

With adrenaline, of course.

***

The rest of the class went on without a hiccup, and you had made much more notes than you anticipated you would. His voice had a weird calming and focusing effect on you, as much as you hated admitting it — also, it wasn't so hard accompanying him walking around making his exposition when his face looked like that.

However, you decided you'd talk to him, first off because it would be incredibly uncomfortable to keep going to both of his classes for six months without ever addressing the coffee faux pas, and second because you had just been victimized by the pettiest revenge known to mankind by a college professor.

You kind of deserved it, but still. It was pretty immature, even if he was Dr. Genius who just taught the best class you had ever seen in your life.

"So, students, we'll have a quick test this week," Higuruma stated, "the Dean has requested that all professors use these to assess your knowledge every month, and I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible."

Many sighs and displeased grunts could be heard around the classroom. He leaned over his desk as he sat, putting his papers away in his briefcase.

"I know, I don't like it either, but at least you'll only need to study a week's worth of content, not a month."

Some hm, fine, ugh, were uttered by the students as they left the classroom. You walked hesitantly behind them all, waiting for everyone to leave before you could speak to him alone.

You were already going to be remembered as the girl mock expelled from the classroom. No one needed to know you also had assaulted their professor with a desecrated cup of coffee before that.

As you stepped in front of his desk, he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"Yes?"

Something you hadn't anticipated was that looking at him — and his hooked nose — up close like this would jumble your thoughts around.

Oh, shit. He's handsome.

Dumbified, you spat out the first thing you could think of.

"So, professor, I'm the student you fake expelled earlier," you stated, realizing he obviously already knew that.

Brilliant. Off to a great start.

Higuruma nodded, feeling something prickling at the back of his brain as he heard your voice for a second time.

"What did you think? Was it a good way to convey this class motif?" he asked, finally closing his briefcase and putting it on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that it was probably an uncomfortable experience for all of the people involved, especially you.

You were a little incredulous at how oblivious he seemed to be, and it annoyed you. Was this out of good heart, or was he playing dumb?

"It was a good exposition, professor, but I wanted to talk about something else," you answered.

“5000 yen.”

“... What?”

“That’s my law firm’s hourly fee.”

You stood silent. He chuckled a little, shrugging back.

“I’m joking. I don’t even have a practice. Tell me what you need.”

Is this guy for real?

You cleared your throat before continuing.

“It felt horrible to be on the spot like that out of nowhere, without any knowledge as to what was going on.”

After blurting it out, you braced yourself, knowing full well by now that professors were usually pretty big ego'd kind of people. Nonetheless, this had to be said, at least for the sake of the next student he decided to torture with one of his experiments.

He looked at you with wide eyes, and seemed to ponder for a moment.

“Oh, I see. My apologies,” Higuruma offered in earnest, while his face softened.

You were very surprised.

“Oh, okay," you mumbled as you scratched the back of your neck, "I accept your apology. But maybe you should really give the student a heads-up next time you intend to do that.”

“That would presume I consider that students are people, and not minions to torture.”

Uh?

“Also a joke.”

“You’re not very good with those.”

Did I say that out loud?

He simply stared surprised at you, seemingly a little shocked.

I did say it out loud.

"Fuck."

And that too.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Higuruma suddenly chuckled, much to your surprise. Your eyes widened, and you stared at him, extremely confused as to what was up with this guy.

“You're a sincere person," he noted, and you shrugged hesitantly.

Higuruma was definitely amused at this exchange.

He then proceeded.

"Being sincere is good, but my best friend always warns me to try keeping it to myself most of the time. I don’t listen, of course, but maybe you should for now. People get offended easily.”

His exposition made you feel a little less out of place — and less alone, for what it was worth. You instantly remembered your parents used to chide you for blurting out things like that out of nowhere, instead of keeping them in your head like other people do, according to them.

You didn't realize you were smiling as you mindlessly opened your coat.

He took notice of your shirt, and began slowly realizing there was something off about it.

"Is that usual?" you asked, out of the blue.

He shook his head, being pulled out of his head. "What?"

"The mock expulsion?"

"Heavens, no."

"Then, why?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face with his hands.

"Because I needed something to wake mine and everybody else's brain up. Classes shouldn't be this early, and I didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

Higuruma was still out of sorts, spilling the tea of his insomniac state to one of his random students whom he had just met.

"Oh, me neither!" you told him, also absentmindedly, on a stream of consciousness rant towards a professor you were talking to for the first time. "Classes should start after noon, at the very least…"

"I know, right? Some things shouldn't be a crime, but making people wake up this early for class definitely ought to be."

You laughed softly, and you both kept silent for a moment, before you remembered what you thought was the reason for the mock punishment.

"Oh, professor… I'm sorry about the coffee."

He was confused for a few moments before broadening his eyes as he finally realized it.

No wonder Higuruma felt like he recognized your voice from somewhere, and now he took a good look at the red smudge he had seen earlier under what he figured was your face.

It was the ugliest scarf he had ever seen.

"I came here wanting to ask if you had done the fake expulsion thing as some sort of…" you sighed, a little ashamed. "Well, I'd like to apologize for staining your clothes, and offer to get you new ones, or at least pay for your laundry fee if needed."

He lifted one eyebrow at you before he resumed speaking.

"I didn't catch your face then. I mean, I didn't recognize you at all," Higuruma answered, "so no. But I'd never… Well, you barely know me, so you wouldn't know, but my opinion on the matter is that professors that exert selfish vendettas against students, for whatever reason, are absolute fools."

"You didn't recognize me? Say what now?"

He pointed at his glasses, and you finally understood completely how all of this petty revenge narrative was entirely in your head.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay."

"But still…"

He sighed.

"It was a possibility, given how things in a college setting usually go, but that is why we investigate things further before prosecuting, right? A narrative might make a lot of sense, up until you confront it with the gathered evidence."

You joined your hands in front of you, embarrassed.

"Yes, I guess so," you answered, "but please, let me at least pay to get your clothes cleaned."

The professor shook his head.

"Absolutely not. You're an undergraduate student. I've been one, I'm quite aware of the financial hardships most of you endure as I've struggled with them myself not so long ago."

Even though you felt somewhat uncomfortable about not evening things out, he was right. This money would be fairly missed — you were already missing the $2 worth of coffee you didn't manage to drink.

"It was an accident, you didn't cover me with your beverage intentionally. Also, you had to leave because you were late for my class," he paused, "and I'm actually flattered you'd leave someone to fend off for themselves against that foul cafeteria coffee just to run to one of my classes."

You chuckled a little, and he proceeded.

"So, it's okay. You don't have to pay me for anything. This is fine."

You sighed, truly relieved, and he was glad you came to talk to him and properly apologize for the blunder.

"Thank you for your time and kindness, professor. I hope you have a good day."

He bowed his head slightly.

"Same to you."

However, something was still scratching at the back of his mind.

"Hm, hey… since we are on the topic of clothing and I just let you off the hook on paying for my dry cleaning…" Higuruma said, and you stopped midway towards the door, turning to face him.

"This might be an odd question, but I'm very curious."

"Hm… what is it?"

He pointed at your sleeping shirt, now evident under the open coat.

"Are those pajamas?"

You immediately pulled your coat over your hello kitty top, lifting one eyebrow in pathetic defiance.

"Of course… not?"

Higuruma thought to himself that you were turning into one of the most unique students he ever had.

"Do you intend to be an attorney?"

"... yes?" You answered, with some suspicion.

He huffed.

"Then improve your lying game for Court. You can do your crazy, but defend it as if it was the utmost truth in the universe, okay?"

Higuruma couldn't quite explain it, but this conversation with you was strangely amusing.

Maybe going back to the classroom wouldn't be so difficult after all, if even half of his students were a little out of sorts like this.

"... Okay," you replied, removing your hand and letting your pathetic sanrio pajamas shirt show once again.

"So, are those pajamas?" he inquired again, more incisively.

You straightened yourself and made a fake serious expression.

"Of course not."

"Much better," Higuruma answered with an actual smile.

The way his cheek creased around his mouth was weirdly charming, just as most things about him, it seemed.

Trying not to stare, you smiled back at Higuruma and turned around, leaving for your next class with heat prickling against your cheeks.

Tag list:

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @markleeisdabestdrug @redlikerozez @delirious-donna

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @senseifupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider

@ohhheymessa @actuallysaiyan @bigbaddulce

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ugotcooneycrossed · 8 months

Text

girlfriend or girl thats a friend? • kyra cooney-cross

w/c: ~1k

you and kyra are something- you just dont exactly know what yet. thankfully nobody knows how to mind their own business

------------------------------------------------------------

It feels a bit unreal right now- you’re at you’re first world cup, basecamp is just as cool as you imagined and you take a second, to take it all in.

In reality it’s not that impressive- it’s just a hotel after all, but you’ve never been more nervous, or, excited about anything.

Well- except for the Olympics.

You remember Kyra waking you up at midnight- convincing you to sneak out with her to explore Yokohama before training.

You walked hand-in-hand for hours in the city- eventually sitting on some random bench watching the city lights together.

You both fell asleep in training the next day.

You feel a shoulder bump yours- and your taken out of your daydream, Kyra smiling softly at you.

“You okay?”

She asks you- almost whispering, as if it’s just a little secret between you two, and you smile back at her.

“Yeah- of course.”

She nods her head in approval, and holds out her hand to you- palm up, silently asking for you hand.

You lace your fingers together- and let her tug you to the elevator.

“Roomies?”

“Of course- wouldn’t dream of anyone else.”

“Hey- (y/n), you awake?”

It’s dark in the room- and definitely way past your bedtime.

You can hear Kyra’s sheets rustling though- and can blearily make out her turning to face you in the dark.

You reach over to flick on the bedside light- and she flinches at the sudden brightness.

“Yeah- you alright?”

She’s quiet for a while- just staring down and playing with her hands, and you frown at that. You go to speak, but Kyra gets out of bed suddenly and slips into yours- pulling you close to her and resting her head on your chest.

“I missed you.”

You want to joke with her that you’ve been together for weeks now to prepare for the world cup. But, you know what she means- something has changed between you two, and you’ve both been avoiding it.

“I missed you too.”

You wrap your arms around her and hold her close to you, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

“You should sleep though- trainings tomorrow, and I don’t want you to fall sleep in training again.”

“Hey! You fell asleep too- so, why don’t we both go to sleep now.”

“Kyra- babe, you woke me up.”

“Babe huh?”

“Shut it.”

You fall asleep like that- together, in each other’s arms.

You wake up well before Kyra does- and you watch her as she continues to sleep, she’s resting practically on top of you, her arms wrapped around you tightly and her head on you chest.

Her head rises and falls rhythmically with your breathing- and you lean down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

It’s not an uncommon sight to see you both together- in fact most of the girl’s seem to think you’re attached at the hip. You’re always touching in some way- whether it be arms linked walking to the pitch, or knees touching as you sit side-by-side, you’re always together on days off- constantly featured in each-others instgrams, and are always mixing up clothes- you coming to training in shorts with 23 on it, or Kyra rummaging through your suitcase to steal one of your hoodies. Which, no one would’ve noticed if it weren’t for Charli calling Kyra out.

You hear hushed voices outside your door- and a group of girls come crashing in seconds later. You shut your eyes quickly and sink further down into bed, pretending to be asleep- Kyra still on top of you.

“Awee look at them- they’re sleeping.”

“Let’s wake them up.”

“Mary!”

“What! They’re gonna miss breakfast.”

“But aren’t they so cute though?”

“Yeah, yeah- so, like- are they dating? Or what? Cause I’ve got a bet going on with Ellie.”

“I don’t know actually- I think they are.”

“Really? I thought you would know.”

“Well- last time I talked to Kyra she told me she-“

Charli’s voice gets cut off and you want to scream.

“What are you all doing in here?”

Mini walks into the room and takes one look around- hitting Charli in the arm.

“Out! Both of you.”

You wait until you hear the door close to wake Kyra up, brushing her hair back and rubbing her cheeks softly.

You feel her cheeks pull up into a smile and you squeeze her face in your hands softly, admiring the way her face scratches up- already forgetting about what Charli was going to say

“Come on sleepy- we’re going to be late again.”

You’re resting your head on Kyra’s stomach- both of you laying off on your own during a small break in training.

You have your eyes closed- soaking in the sun that finally decided to show itself. You don’t notice Kyra staring at you smiling though.

You feel Kyra shift slightly and you crack an eye open to look at her.

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

You go out for dinner that night- and when Kyra’s burger gets to the table she plucks off the pickles and drops them into your waiting hand.

“Thanks.”

She smiles at you.

“Of course.”

You smile back at her- knocking your knees together under the table and grinning at her.

Mary waves her hand to get both of your attention.

“So- are you guys like dating?”

“What?”

You both reply in unison- moving away from each other slightly.

“What makes you say that?"

You asks- face heating up, you glance over at Kyra but she’s looking anywhere but you.

“Okayy- never mind, forget I said anything.”

You haven’t spoken to Kyra since dinner- and it’s killing you.

You’re getting ready for bed in silence- occasionally glancing at each other when the other isn’t.

When you finally get under the covers, you see Kyra hover in-between both beds, and you sigh, opening your blanket up for her, and she climbs in next to you without a word. Her head coming to rest on your chest once again.

But you can’t wait anymore- asking her quietly, nearing a whisper, afraid someone will hear even if you’re alone in the hotel room.

“Kyra- what are we?”

Still- she stays quiet.

You sigh- trying to move your arm from around her, but her hand grips your bicep and you stop.

“We’re just us- I don’t know, I just- I like us.”

“I do too.”

You’re both late to breakfast again- and it gives Mary enough time to hatch a plan with the girls to get you together.

“Lock ‘em in a closet.”

“Sam no!”

#kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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g0ry0re0 · 2 months

Text

"Valentine", Mike Schmidt (Five Nights At Freddy's, 2023, Film) - Imagine

Description: You and Mike take the day off for Valentine's Day, spending quality time with one another. / Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader

General Notes: Established Relationship (reader lives with Mike and Abby), Gender Neutral Reader (no use of Y/N), Pure Fluff, Second Person POV, Takes Place After The Film's Events (no mention of movie plot, mostly just mentioned for the character and relationship development), Set In The Movie Year (2000), Brief Scene With Abby In The Beginning, Lots Of Physical Touch

Author's Note: The song choice is soooo not original lol, but I love Laufey and had to do something really cute for Valentine's Day (song is linked at the bottom of the post). This was also heavily inspired by a tweet from @/whycraves on twitter (screenshot at bottom of post). Also, my best friend, @anal-spaghetti-monster (I'm sorry lol) helped me choose the gif for Mike! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The morning before posting this, I read @sleepyhutcherson's Mike Schmidt Valentine's Day prompt and noticed a lot of similarities. I just want to throw it out there that this is purely a coincidence and that I reached out to her to confirm that posting this was still okay. Besides that, check out her work as well, as she did an amazing job with a similar prompt!

Word Count: 1,693 Words

"Alright, Abbs, you got everything?" Mike turns around in the car seat to face her.

Your car is temporarily parked by the elementary school curb with a handful of others, you're sitting in the driver's seat and looking back and forth between your boyfriend and his younger sister. This was one of the rare days you and Mike could drop her off at school together, as you had both taken the day off work. The three of you spent an easy-going morning together, not as hectic as it usually is when trying to get ready as fast as possible for work and school. Mike in particular had woken up early and made a small breakfast for you and Abby. He woke you up with coffee and Abby with the promise of bacon, causing you both to rise quickly out of your beds and immediately join him in the kitchen. The time was spent enjoying each other's company and getting ready leisurely before heading out the door.

Abby rolls her eyes playfully and smiles. "Yes, Mike."

You smile as well and add, "Sounds like something you should've asked before we even got in the car. Definitely not when we're already at school."

It's Mike's turn to roll his eyes, but he quickly looks back at Abby.

"And you have your...love- heart candy letter things for your friends?"

"They're Valentine's Day cards, Mike! And, yes," she shakes a pink and red decorated, emptied-out, tissue box filled with cards and candy. "I have them right here."

Before Mike can even think about a response, Abby opens the car door excitedly and jumps out, shouting her goodbyes while running to the school entrance. Mike tries to yell something out the window about staying safe and paying attention to her teacher, but Abby is inside before he can try. You laugh while putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot, Mike still flustered and slightly worried.

"She- she didn't even...I didn't get to-" Mike stutters out, speechless.

"Mike," You laugh again. "She's excited about Valentine's Day and seeing her friends. Can you blame her?" You glance at him, smiling before turning back to the road and continuing your short drive home.

Mike grumbles unintelligibly and looks out the window, but still grabs your free hand that's set on the center console and squeezes it lightly.

Getting out of the car causes a harsh chill to run through your body pulling your jacket around the front of your torso while closing the car door. Mike pulls out his keys and quickly opens up the front door, both out of anticipation for your day together and to get you both out of the cold as soon as possible. You rush in side by side, slightly stumbling and sighing as the warmth of your shared home dethaws your frozen bodies. Mike locks the door and watches you fondly as you remove your scarf, your gloves, your coat, and finally your shoes, leaving them by the front door. Not going unnoticed by you, you smirk while walking towards the living room.

"You're staring again, lover boy." You comment teasingly, walking around the couch and plopping down.

Mike blushes, a little embarrassed, but smiling at the nickname. He removes his excess layers as well, following you to the couch shortly after. He sits directly beside you and wraps one arm around your shoulders, the other snaking around your front, then burying his face into your neck.

A muffled, "I can't help it," vibrates against your neck while Mike rubs his thumb along your hip.

You lean into Mike's embrace, laughing a bit at his breath tickling your neck. He pulls you closer and starts peppering kisses along your neck, the act of affection making you giggle as you lightly try to push him away playfully.

"Mike, come on." You whine, weakly pushing at his face this time, trying to turn him away.

"What? I can't kiss you, my love?" He speaks against your throat again, his smile causing his stubble to scratch your skin a little bit.

You resign, defeatedly leaving your hands to rest on his chest and sighing out of fake annoyance. He leaves quick, gentle kisses along your neck, collarbone, shoulder, and trails up your jaw. Getting closer to your lips, he brings his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, He finally presses his lips against yours sweetly, the most innocent of kisses, Mike's signature. He was pouring every ounce of his love into this one kiss, taking his time, lips moving slowly against yours. His thumb now softly grazes your cheek as he pulls away a few minutes later. He's got kind of a shy look on his face when you open your eyes.

"I got you something...for today." He whispers, glancing up from your lips to make eye contact.

"You did?" You inquire back, looking up affectionately, but feeling a slight twinge of guilt. "You didn't have to do that."

Mike gives you one final peck on the lips before pulling away. He stands up, grinning.

"Gimme one sec- " He says right before turning and walking down the hallway to your shared room.

You both had anticipated spending the day together, but you didn't expect any gifts. You loved Mike to death, but sometimes you never knew what to expect from him. All that really mattered to you was spending time together, which you didn't get to do often despite living together. If you were lucky, you got to spend time with both the Schmidt siblings, like this morning. Today was about you and Mike, though, and all you wanted to do was cuddle and talk each other's ears off until you couldn't think of anything else to say. Lost in thought, you barely notice as Mike walks back to you, holding a small object. He sits back down next to you, bringing your attention back to him. His body facing you, he smiles nervously and rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

"It's not much, but..." He trails off, holding out the item and presenting it to you.

You look down and your heart melts. In his hand is a cassette tape with your name scrawled on the front. You beam up at him while grabbing the tape, and then you look at your name written in the center. You can tell Mike put a lot of effort into printing your name as nicely as his hands allowed him to, noticing also the miscellaneous tiny, slightly sloppy, hearts surrounding it. You hold the cassette to your chest and look back up at him.

"Michael Schmidt, did you make me a mixtape?" You ask playfully.

He loved hearing you say his name. You can see a light blush spread across his face as he smiles shyly, his hand still anxiously messing with the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I tried- well, it's got, like, songs that remind me of you and stuff. Songs that remind me of us," he stammers, bashfully looking down at the tape. "Do you like it?"

He looks back up at you hopefully, using his other hand to nervously pull at the bottom of his shirt. You smirk and stand up, still clutching the cassette to your chest.

"Well, let's see..." You trail off, teasingly, walking across the living room to the cassette deck near the entertainment center.

A familiar song begins to play and you smile softly now. You turn towards Mike and walk back to the couch, standing over him. He looks up at you quizzically before you reach your hand out to him.

"Wanna dance?"

He looks slightly relieved and grabs your hand, standing up and pulling you to the center of the room. One pair of hands intertwined, his other on your waist, your other on his shoulder. You stare at one another lovingly, almost sickeningly sweet the moment being shared. The tempo of the song didn't matter, you both slowly swayed back and forth, taking in the tranquility of the scene. You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, rubbing his thumb over yours.

"No one's ever made me a mixtape before," you comment distractedly, most of your focus being on Mike's puppy dog eyes that you loved so dearly. "it's definitely worth however much time you spent on it. When did you get a chance to do this anyway?"

A lopsided smile appears on his face.

"A little too much time," he laughs a little. "And I put it together while you were sleeping the other night. Though, most of the time I spent was thinking of songs to put on it. That took me a few weeks."

You move the hand that was resting on his shoulder up to cup his cheek. Mike leans into your touch and closes his eyes, humming in contentment. You lean forward and capture his lips in a quick kiss, his eyes fluttering in pleasant surprise, kissing you back. You pull away, using the hand holding his face as leverage to start peppering kisses all over his face. You go from the corner of his lips, to his stubbled cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin, and finally back to his lips. He smirks knowingly and opens his eyes to look at you.

"What are you doing, love?"

"Paying you back for earlier," you smirk back at him, pinching his cheek before resuming your hand's previous position. "And for the amazing Valentine's Day gift."

You take both of your hands now and place them on the sides of his face. His eyebrows furrow but he's still smiling, both of his hands now placed on your hips to keep you both balanced. You start placing soft, quick smooches everywhere now. Rapidly placing kisses all over his face, causing you both to laugh, smiling against his skin. Your laughter in unison with the music playing sounds like heaven to Mike, knowing that moments like these are rare. Though treasuring the moment, both of you feel tenderness in knowing more memories like these will happen as your merged existences face what everyone craves more of, time.

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