#not that i have issues with any of those but the hOODIE IS SUCH A LOOK

[mrsbarnesblog]

Mattheo Riddle headcanons

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: what is it like dating Mattheo

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, no mention of y/n, you can be in any house, spicy content under the warning

Author’s note: For all my Bucky fanfic readers, I'm sorry that I haven’t posted in almost a month. This December is just too overwhelming, and every time I tried to finish my fic, it felt like I was wasting my time. I literally just miss the ending, and I hope to finish it as soon as possible.

For my possible new followers and/or HP stans, Mattheo is my current obsession, and I’m literally head over heels for him. And you know what they say: if you can’t find a fanfic that you like, write it yourself. So yeah, I'm trying something new, and I have a few ideas that are poisoning my head every single minute lmao.

sorry if there are any mistakes. hope you’ll like it💘🎀

Mattheo was never that much of a playboy because he didn’t like to share his space and, well, communicate with people in general

Due to his family, he was really reserved and refused to be weak

You weren’t that popular in school, so he had never really noticed you but one day, you suddenly started hanging out with Pansy and he could not get you out of his head anymore

He hated it

He hated that you occupied all of his thoughts for at least a few weeks 

Tried to ignore his feelings for you as long as possible, but from the moment you two had to work together on the project, everything went downhill 

He was scared to ask you out, not ready to be rejected by the only person he genuinely liked and thinking that maybe you secretly hated him like everyone else

At the beginning of the relationship, Mattheo told you that sometimes he might get cold and distant, but it wasn’t your fault and that you should just give him some time 

Mattheo is romantic and for his favorite girl, he always arranged the best dates

He was nervous to kiss you after the first date when he walked you to your dorm

Little did he know, but that sexy smirk and the way he looked at you all night drove you insane

So you just pulled him by the tie, connecting your lips

Since then, Mattheo has been addicted to you

Hands are always on you, holding your hand, your waist or your thighs

Looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars

He kisses you in front of everyone to make sure that they know that you are his, and he is yours

Likes to pull into into his lap while he’s talking with his friends in the common room

Holding you close, slowly strokes your arms or your back, unable to keep his hands away from you

Whispers sweet nothings

Loves your smell and always buries his nose into your hair

He wears rings and allows you to steal them

His hoodies and t-shirts too

Secretly likes to be little spoon or lay on your chest while your hands are playing with his curls

Buys you everything you might possibly like, even though you always tell him to stop spending his money on you

Likes to study with you because you can actually get ready for the lessons while he has another opportunity to stare at you 

So overprotective and always snaps back at people who, even in the slightest way, disrespect you

He never lets you go to the parties alone in case some creepy guys decide to hit on you

Possesive

When you’re wearing revealing clothes, one part of him is proud and wants to brag that his girlfriend is the sexiest woman on the planet, but the other part wants to cover you with big blanket and keep you to himself

Always sarcastic and sassy

Fights a lot 

He had never gone to the medical wing because he wasn’t used to asking for help, but since you started dating, he let you heal his wound 

Loves when you scold him for those fights, just because you look so cute when you’re angry and he has an excuse to kiss and spoil you 

He has anger issues, but he has never raised his voice at you

Actually, you are like a sedative to him because only you can calm him down in a matter of seconds 

Will never make you feel uncomfortable or insecure

You don’t like something or someone? Mattheo will make sure to get you out of the room and won’t let that person come near you ever again

The way you call him “Matty” turns him into a literal puddle

Can’t sleep without you in his arms

spicy

During your first time, he was super attentive and always checked whether you were okay or not

Praises. A lot of fucking praises

“You’re taking me so good, my love”, “you look so pretty when you cum around me.” 

He likes every position, but prefers when he can see your face

There is literally not a single place in his dorm where you two haven’t had sex

Gets turned on literally by everything you do

He’s risky. As soon as he finds out that you actually liked it, he always teases you under the table, pulls you into the storage rooms, and talks dirty while there are a lot of people around

Got you two in detention a few times for getting caught kissing at night by Snape (you were lucky that he caught you before Mattheo’s hands slipped under your skirt)

His personal favorite is sex in the astronomy tower. The way you’re trying to hold back your moans drives him crazy

Also bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, where you love to sit with him deep inside of you  

He usually dominates, but sometimes likes to let you be in charge and see how you ride him

He has a big appetite, and what is the best way to deal with it? Right, you.

Mattheo would’ve spent hours in between your legs if you allowed him

He never asks for anything in return, but still seeing you on your knees for him is a fucking miracle

Your hair are around his hand, while you’re taking as much of him in your mouth as you can

Eye contact

He’s willing to try in bed anything that you want, except things that might get you hurt

He likes to keep his hand on your neck while he’s thrusting into you but never actually squeezes

Can be rough and fast or really gentle and slow, depending on the mood

After someone pisses him off or if you had a small fight, he always fucks you into the bed with your hands pinned above you until you’re literally crying from pleasure

By the way, when you don’t have time to put a spell on the room, it gives him satisfaction to know that everyone hears the way you moan for him

He always makes sure that you came, and if you didn’t, he’s more than happy to go down on you

Love confessions 

Aftercare is a must

Hugs, kisses, food, baths—anything you might want

He always keeps you close until you fall asleep and then just stares at you, wondering how he could be so happy to have you  

#slytherin boys #harry potter fanfiction #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fanfic

[c0llisiion]

NUMB TO THE FEELING — j.jk

♡pairing : jjk + fem!reader

♡: not proof read, exs, idol!jungkook x idol!reader , fwb kinda? , smut , mutual masturbation - lmk if i missed any!

W/C : 1,162

Pt.2 , Pt.3

A/N : SORRY 4 DISAPPEARING AGAINNNNN! i js got too busy guys 😣😣😣😣 rqs are open! Send in your rqs and prompts ily <33 anyways here is a jk fic i wrote instead of finishing my other jk fic :3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

2 months. Its been 2 months since you broke it off with jungkook. It was all over the news, a hot topic for the k media. ‘BTS’s Jungkook and Y/G/N’s y/n ends 4 year relationship’, was still trending on naver. It happened so quickly. Knets are already placing the blame on you for the breakup, as they view you as a mean rebel idol who breaks hearts and messes around. A face of disgust was plastered on your face as you scroll through the endless amounts of hate comments knets put under the articles.

“Wow I always knew she was a bitch”

“She definitely cheated on him with another idol lol”

“What do you expect when you date a wh*re? Jungkook should have never dated her”

“She ruined his image”

Back and forth, people were calling you degrading names and putting Jungkook in a good light. They said all of this while not knowing a single thing about how your breakup unfolded. It was mutual. You both started getting busy with schedules. That simple. Maybe a few disagreements here and there. Maybe a few trust issues but the main point was it was mutual and you both broke up because of schedules. You got tired of the same comments and decided to turn off your phone but you got a new notification.

baby star candy 🤍

Hey

Tf is he doing at this hour?

Y/n

???

baby star candy 🤍

Is it okay if i come over?

Classic jungkook. Getting straight to the point. You stared at the text for a while not realising that you were leaving him on seen.

My baby star candy 🤍

Helloooooo?????

Its fine if you dont want me to

Y/n

Yes. Quick.

You sent your reply before his second text got to properly load. And there you were. Your phone turned off, biting your nails as you waited for jungkook.

It didn't take him a lot of time. Reaching your place in under 7 minutes and 13 seconds. You heard your doorbell and you immediately rushed to the door. You stood at the door for some time, avoiding the impression that you were eagerly anticipating his arrival.

You opened the door and see the tall bulky black haired man with his calvin klein hoodie and grey shorts. You stared at him before he brought you back to reality by snapping his fingers. You let him in before locking the door. You grabbed him by his wrists and took him upstairs to your room.

He quickly settled in your bed letting out a deep sigh, Relaxing and stretching his limbs out onto the bed. His arm was tucked behind his head as he patted the empty space next to him with half lidded eyes. You rolled your eyes before snuggling with him. Your tv was on and playing a random tv show you put almost an hour ago, forgetting to it turn off. You sighed and relaxed into his arm. The silence was comfortable. Jungkook was playing with the hems of shorts and you with the drawstrings of his shorts. You knew where this would lead to.

His hands started slowly massaging your thighs and ass in a comforting way. Its like he knew you were sad. And he did. “Im sorry” he spoke up. You looked up at him. His eyes were focused on the tv infront. “Im sorry about those comments. I should have said somethin’.” He said finally looking down at you. You shook your head and nuzzled into him closer “dont be. Its not your fault. Tbh i really dont gaf.” He chuckled at your attitude. He always liked your idgaf attitude. That’s what made him ask you out. “So you are not sad?” He asked his hands trailing up your shirt, cold fingers resting under your tits. “Hmm i was but then there is no reason for me to be. Maybe we should upload one of our sextapes to show those bitchy knets and completely appall them..” you giggled thinking about their reaction. Jungkook sighed and chuckled. “Yeah? Which one? Our old ones or the one we are gonna make rn?” His cold fingers squeezed your bare tits and tugged on your hard nipples. You hissed at the feeling. He grabbed your hand using his other hand and started using yours to rub himself through his shorts. He let out a soft groan throwing his head back. You bit your lip as you felt his hand lower into your shorts, quickly taking your sensitive bud in between his fingers, tugging it gently. You gasped and held onto his wrists as he continued abusing your bud. He was growing harder and harder because of your hands and the unholy sounds you let out every time he flicked your clit. You put your hands into his shorts and wrapped your fingers around his dick. Your movements were restricted by his shorts which opted you to pull his dick completely out. You stared at it. Oh how much you missed that monster. “Quit staring baby..” you felt yourself melt as he inserts two fingers into your sopping hole. A loud squelch was heard when he started fingering you. Your hands lazily worked up and down his shaft. Small spurts of precum already leaking out of his red tip. You picked up your pace and so did he. You twisted your wrists around his tip. You knew how sensitive he was there and continued. His eyes were squeezed shut as soft moans left his mouth. He started choking on them as he felt your hands squeeze around his length. God the way you had this man under your control with Just your hands was insane. He was quick to return the favour as two more fingers were added. His thumb rested on your clit rubbing it in circles furiously as he fucked your cunt with his long fingers. Loud noises accompanied by yours and his moans were the only sounds heard in the room. Your vision went white as you finally reached your end. Squirting all over his hands and wetting your shorts as well as your sheets. You let out choked out moans and your back arched off of the bed.

“Attagirl…” jungkook said with furrowed eyebrows as he kept finger fucking you. Your hand movements got sloppy which prompted jungkook to thrust into your hands. You picked up pace which made jungkook stiffen. You knew his orgasm was close from the his facial expressions and his voice. You stared at his face as you watch your ex boyfriend come undone under your grasp. He let out a final gasp before cumming all over your hands. You slowed down your movements finally letting go of his softening cock before bringing your fingers to your mouth, licking all his salty cum clean, staring deeply into his brown eyes.

Only you had him like this. No other woman will never come to your level ever.

A/n : HEHEHE sex tape part 2? 🤭🤭🤭🤭 ALSO SORRY FOR THE USAGE OF BABY STAR CANDYAJJEKAJWJA I JS HAD TOOOOOO

#bts reactions #jungkook smut #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook reaction #jungkook headcanons #bts x reader #fem reader

[reallyromealone]

bonten with a really feminine male reader? like the first time bonten and him met they thought he was a girl

Reader gets she/her pronouns till they learn because they don't know and ooooo surprise

Male reader, Bonten x male reader

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

They had to admit.

She was quite beautiful, the woman before then dressed in soft pastels and a cute skirt, delicate makeup applied to their face. They looked to be a university student, currently crouched before a gatcha machine and happy when she got the cute keychain.

This wasn't their first time seeing this Beauty, having seen her a few times before in equally cute outfits and seeing as she was always seen in Roppongi she clearly could afford a good lifestyle.

One bonten was willing to facilitate with.

Issue was... They never spoke to her.

That was until (name) found mikey bleeding out by her apartment.

"Dont get up so fast!" (Name) said worried as a bandaged mikey woke "Don't worry, I didnt call the cops or anything... I saw the tattoo and I know thats the last thing you need" (name) mumbled and Mikey looked entranced "heres your phone! I charged it since it was dead" (name) said handing Mikey his phone and the blond took it silently, looking at the others nightwear, an oversized hoodie and shorts "cute..."

(Name) looked confused as Mikey made a call and twenty minutes later the door was knocked on "its the pretty girl!" Ran said excitedly and (name) tilted his head "girl...?"

Wait.

Oh god they recognized him when he cross dressed.

"Actually...." (Name) said as Ran cupped his face and gently smooshed his cheeks "im a guy... Those are the clothes i model"

The room went quiet and the men looked at him incredulously "prove it" Sanzu said and (name) shrugged before lowering his pants.

"Holy shit" Takeomi said simply and the others nodded as (name) pulled the shorts back up "sorry for any inconveniences" (name) said simply as the others looked at him silently.

"Would still smash" koko said and the others made sounds of agreement.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #bonten x reader

[themattgirl]

could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠

an: thank you for the request ily 🧡

this turned out so much longer than i intended

this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it. 

obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.

also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist

pairing: chris x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters

y/n’s dialogue  

chris’ dialogue

matt’s dialogue

nick’s dialogue

mary lou’s dialogue

“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.

so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.

“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”

he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”

“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.

“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”

“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.

“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”

he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.

“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.

i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.

i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.

i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.

i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.

hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

hope you feel better soon tho

matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday

I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫

I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐

I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option

I hope you feel better soon tho

me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫

I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔

i’m gonna kill him like fr this time

hey where tf is chris??

talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk

ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?

yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️

ly❤️❤️

after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.

“what?”

“uff, what’s that attitude?”

“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”

“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.

“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.

“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”

“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”

“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”

he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.

i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.

i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.

i reach for my phone and check the time.

11:43 pm

i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.

chris pushes the door open and steps in.

“oh shit, did i wake you?”

“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”

i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.

he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.

“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.

i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.

i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.

“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.

he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.

“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.

“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.

chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.

“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.

i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.

“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.

he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.

“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.

“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.

“chris. no.”

he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.

“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.

“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.

“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”

this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.

“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”

my jaw is on the floor.

“or when–”

“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”

i’m almost whining at this point.

i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.

later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv. 

neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.

“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.

“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”

he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them. 

i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.

“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.

“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.

i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.

chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”

the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.

“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.

“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.

“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”

i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”

it’s so fun to aggravate chris.

he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”

i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.

“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”

“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”

“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.

“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”

“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.

“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.

“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.

i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.

“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.

right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.

we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.

“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.

“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.

chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.

he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.

“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.

matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.

“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.

i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.

“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”

“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.

“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.

i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”

chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.

“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.

they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.

“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently

“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.

he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”

hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.

“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.

he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.

“i love you too, ma.”

taglist:

@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

[dwyntwo]

I don't think in a modern world, the Crows would completely keep to themselves in a college setting like these weirdass Cullens the way it's often depicted.

Like yes, The Crows would be the core group, but let's be honest, Jesper and Inej would be friends with everyone. Jesper would be the type of guy you'd see sitting at every table, chatting and joking with all the guys and gals and being loved by everyone he comes across. He'd talk to the quiet shy people and try to make them feel included and he'd make everyone at his table laugh.

Inej would have deep and meaningful conversations with lots of other girls and try to get to know them in the most unbiased way possible, but her favorite topic would probably be different cultures, religion, food from different places from all around the world, social injustice and travels. When she doesn't have these sorts of discussions, she goofs off with her peers; often that's her crows, often that's Kaz, but often it's also other people. She's blunt and direct and maybe some people have an issue with that, but those aren't people she involves herself with. She trusted some of the girls with her story, which just makes them admire her even more for how strong she is.

Nina would be one of the most well-known and popular girls on the campus, but in a...controversial way. Like she probably wouldn't be as universally loved as Inej and Jesper because she's very...out there, people might think she's a bit radical, she knows how good she looks (and isn't afraid to show it) and has a sense of humor that is a little too direct. Lots of people would love her, but some would then talk behind her back. There would also be sexist dudes who think she's "too much" (sorry, Matty) and "an arrogant bimbo", and girls with internalized misogyny would say she's "too crass" and "trying too hard", but whatever room she enters, she always finds people to talk to.

Matthias would find a few buddies since he often can't relate to Kaz, Wylan and Jesper. He loves them, but the demon boy gets on his nerves occassionally (their peers still laugh about the time when he snapped at Kaz to "Shut up" after he sneezed) and the other two don't have ANY morals, ugh 🙄 His buddies don't even have to be religious; Matthias just wants some NORMAL friends, is that too much to ask? He'd also be liked by the girls as a "big brother" type figure because he looks out for them and often intently listens to conversations about why the girls always carry pepper spray around.

Wylan wouldn't really have that many friends, but his peers like him because of his "shock humor". Like, he's quiet and blushes easily, but then when someone says something stupid or offensive in class, Wylan will suddenly out of nowhere respond with the most witty, unhinged shit they've ever heard. Just for that, they respect him and make him part of their (well meaning) jokes. He's not "invisible", he's also not really "out there", but he's accepted as "one of them" and everyone talks fondly about him. They also accept the fact that he can't read and it probably even makes him more interesting to them.

Kaz (and I'm sorry, but I REFUSE to acknowledge that Kaz would wear a suit on campus. He'd wear a casual black shirt/hoodie and black jeans, fight me. Don't make him more obnoxious than he needs to be 😭 Also, his backstory stays the same!) would, surprisingly, also be liked by most people due to his dry sense of humor and his blunt way to put things. A bunch of others would be intimidated by him, but overall, he'd be one of the more popular ones. Maybe the fact that he's together with Inej has something to do with that, too. He gives off major "Idc who you are and what you've done, we're cool if you don't get on my nerves"- vibes. When the class doesn't know how to solve a task, he's the one they turn to. Kaz IS actually socially intelligent, he just chooses not to be in canon; I mean, the bitch is a theater kid, he can slip into any role, which speaks for his ability to empathize with others. In college he doesn't have much reason to act like a wet cat, so he doesn't. He's not exactly "friendly", he doesn't let anyone get too close, doesn't share anything personal and the "No touching rule" is something most people on campus are aware of, but he still likes to talk to other people and discuss things with them. His peers try to give him THE most difficult riddles they can find, hoping to find one he can't solve, and get frustrated when he knows the answer to all of them. Have I also mentioned that he's a magician? Like come on, people would eat that shit up! Yeah, he's moody, but he also lives for dramatics and performances. You're trying to tell me he WOULDN'T make coins appear and disappear just to see the looks on his peers' faces?

#six of crows #soc #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #kaz brekker #matthias helvar #college au

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me | Issue #7

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally get some answers out of Miguel about who you are to him.

Word count: 5,700 words.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

"So let's take it from the top," you tell him, as you sit down and put down the Trenta-sized caramel flavored hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup in front of the man named Miguel O'Hara.

The two of you are sitting across from each other at a small booth at the nearest Starbucks you were able to find, seeing as you're homeless now, and there's nowhere else you could think of to go.

He's dressed in a large fitted hoodie that drapes down to his thighs. Where he's managed to find something that is oversized in length on him, you don't know because he's not exactly short.

"I'm from a dimension known as Earth-928," Miguel says.

Before he can continue, you raise one hand, and you can see his right eyebrow twitch unhappily at the interruption. 

"Yes?"

"Just to clarify, so we don't have another ‘coffee cake’ misunderstanding. When you say Earth-928, do you mean a different version of the Earth we’re on now? Or is this a habitable planet in another galaxy that happens to be partially named Earth?"

"It's a parallel universe characterized by distinct physical parameters and initial conditions, accounting for the diverse manifestations of our observable universe. So still Earth," he says, sweeping his gaze across the café, nose wrinkling the way one does when there's something off-putting in their vicinity. "Just a little bit less primitive."

Of course he would say that, wouldn't be able to resist the jab would he.

You peer up at him across the table. He is very technical and thorough with his explanations. But as grateful as you are for him finally being willing to answer your questions, you hadn't expected those answers to be quite so information dense. You need to pick your questions more carefully or you are going to have to go down the street to buy yourself a notebook in order to keep up.

"How did you end up on this Earth?" you ask.

"Where I'm from, I'm a scientist, a researcher. One of the things I studied was the theory of physical cosmology and the existence of the multiverse. My work was concentrated on the theoretical ability to navigate between distinct universes within a hypothetical multiverse–”

Ah shit, you should've been more narrow in your question. Should have asked him to simplify it a bit more for you. Because now you're sitting here blinking up at him, pretending you understand half of what he's saying. 

It makes sense that he’s STEM. He speaks like the type. Smart as hell with none of the social skills to gauge whether the other person is following the conversation. 

Listening to him reminds you of that time in college, when you'd walked into the wrong lecture hall, wound up in advanced chemistry instead of your math class, felt too awkward to leave and just sat there drawing doodles with an attentive expression until the class was over. 

And he’s still at it, “– employing advanced mechanisms that manipulate or transcend conventional spacetime frameworks, enabling exploration–"

"Okay, wait, hold on a sec," you interrupt, once it becomes obvious he’s not going to stop any time soon on his own. "Can you... simplify, please?"

He stops mid-sentence, taking a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling and considers your request, with a serious expression as if he's thinking really hard on it. "I’m a scientist. I study the multiverse. I built a parallel universe traversal device, it allows me to visit different dimensions." Your brain feels insulted that it clearly took more mental effort for him to dumb it down for you than to just give the supergenius version.

“So… a machine that allows you to jump between alternative universes?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a pause between you as you run through the questions in your mental list you want to tick off now that he’s turned cooperative and talkative. But with everything that’s happened in the last handful of hours, a lot of the questions you previously had seemed outdated. The one question, the most important one, you’ve wanted to ask from the start though remains. 

"Who am I to you?"

Miguel takes the large sized drink in his even larger hands and somehow this big paper cup still manages to look tiny in his grip. "You and I were... involved," he says.

You frown. ‘Involved’ is such a vague term. It belongs in the trash with other useless terms to describe relationships: “situationship”, “complicated”, you hate them all. 

"So I was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, something like that," he concede, fidgeting with the thin gold chain looped around his neck, his eyes not quite meeting yours, like he's embarrassed to use the term.

‘Something like that,’ you chew on his answer unhappily, sympathizing with your other dimensional self and how the other you seemed to have snagged a commitment phobe. 

Other-you, who isn’t here in this dimension with Miguel. You wonder why that is. 

"What happened to me?" you ask.

His eyes are glued to the table,  not looking up at you as he answers you in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it. "She died."

"Oh."

The revelation shouldn’t take you by surprise. 

Every time Miguel’s brought up your other self, it’s been tinted with earth-shattering sadness. It's not hard to put one and one together and come to the conclusion that whatever happened to you in this other dimension didn't end happily.

Still it's an odd feeling to know that out there, somewhere, a version of you has died. A version of you that was clearly very important to the man in front of you.

"I'm sorry," you tell him.

It feels silly to say. It's bizarre to give your condolences over your own parallel death, but Miguel looks so heartbroken. He’s slumped in his seat, large shoulders rounded until his frame looks so much smaller than you're used to, and you don't know what else to do.

"So what is happening to me now," you start, not sure how to word what the phenomena that you're going through is, "these continuous near-death experiences, is that how she died?"

"Yeah."

"And do you know why that... kept happening to her? Why is it happening to me?"

"I don't, and I don't know how to stop it. Believe me I tried."

He cradles the paper cup in his hands, the grip a little bit tighter now until he's creasing the paper and the caramel liquid oozes and leaks from the top.

"What I do know is that the universe isn’t going to stop trying to kill you, no matter what you do. And with every near death incident you manage to survive, these incidents will escalate in nature, until..." he stops, eyes flickering away from the cup to meet yours, but it's like he loses courage and doesn't want to say the last part.

"Until, what?" you prompt.

"Until your dimension collapses."

The blood freezes in your veins. "Wait, collapses!? What do you mean?"

"I can't guarantee it will happen again. But that's what happened last time. When the other you kept cheating death, the universe eventually started to collapse in on itself."

You slump back in your chair, trying to process what you've just been told. What does that mean? That even if you managed to defy all odds to survive, doing so would doom the rest of this universe as you know it?

"When will that happen?" you ask, and you're surprised you manage to get the words out because there is a hard lump in your throat that makes it hurt to even swallow.

"Judging from the trajectory and escalation of events, you have about three months give or take."

The two of you sit in heavy silence, for the moment you're not sure what else to ask him. Because it feels like you are trapped in a building looking for an exit sign, but all that’s tacked onto the brick wall is your death certificate, waiting to be signed and formalized.

There’s no way out. Nowhere to go.

"Give me your hand," he says, breaking the silence. 

You give it to him without hesitation, watching, puzzled, as he takes off his watch and secures it around your wrists.

"Why are you giving me your watch?"

"It's not a watch," he says, then he presses something on the face of it, and an image of a young woman flickers into existence in the space above your wrist, vaguely see-through. A hologram!

"This is Lyla," he introduces.

Wait, wait? Lyla? As in your mom Lyla? You watch the tiny woman floating above your wrist. Short bob-cut, and flashy heart-shaped sunglasses, with a twinkle in her eye. 

The hologram looks nothing like your mom. You part your mouth, about to ask about the name but you're interrupted by the energetic buzz of a female voice greeting you.

"Boss-girl! Long time no see. Want me to catch you up on the latest multiversal gossip? I compiled an edit of highlights set to Despacito."

"Lyla," Miguel warns, tersely. "Not now."

"Ruuuuude! You're the one who woke me up you know."

"Lyla, go back to sleep."

The female avatar grumbles, but then her image flickers away and the watch turns back into, as far as you can tell, just an ordinary watch.

"Why did you name the watch Lyla?"

"It's not a– " He cuts himself off, sighing with exasperation. "Lyla is an advanced A.I. she's going to be with you at all times. She's an added layer of security, built to protect you."

He didn't answer your question. Completely sidestepped it as if the two of you are having two different conversations.

Built to protect you, he'd said. Does that mean he still intends to do that?

"So you're not going to leave?" you ask him.

He leans back in his seat, eyes drifting towards the table. "No."

You look up at him, stumped. Not sure you're understanding what he's saying. Because not even a few hours ago, when the two of you were in your apartment, this man was adamant there was nothing to be done to save you. That he was going to leave and you were never going to see him again.

Right now though, his actions seem to be contradictory to that. You can't make heads or tails of him. Hot and cold doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

"Why not?" you ask, "I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but you seemed pretty set on the whole ‘I can’t save you’ thing. What changed your mind?"

“You did.” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, crossing his arms ever his chest, "You told me you wanted to live. Have you changed your mind already?"

“Wha– NO! I just want to know why you changed yours.”

“I–” He hesitates, another wave of sadness passing over his face. “I’m a superhero. I save people… or try to. It’s what I do. I’m not gonna just leave you to die after you tell me you want to live.”

It’s a good answer, even if you don’t buy that it’s the whole truth. 

You look down at your wrist, and the shiny chrome of the not-watch he's just gifted you winks back up at you. "Do you think I have a chance of surviving all this?"

"It's pretty hopeless," he says, and there’s no break in his expression as he continues. "Your chances of making it out alive are pretty much mathematically impossible."

It's odd though. Even though he's outlining the futility of your situation, basically telling you to raise the white flag and surrender, there's something contradictory in the tone of his voice. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks you.

It’s a challenge, you realize. An encouragement. He has faith in you. It's all of these things rolled into one. As if he's telling you to prove the universe wrong.

"I want to live," you answer. "If the universe collapses in three months, then please stay with me. Give me time to solve this and find a way to stay alive."

His mouth curls into a hint of a smile. The very first you've seen from him since you've met. It's bright and boyish, erasing the harsh lines of his stern expression until it gives way for something much softer underneath that makes your heart leap in your chest with triumph.

You grin, a strange elation of happiness buzzing in you as you stretch out your hand to him, in an invitation for a handshake to seal the deal.

"Deal?"

Miguel leans over the table, clasping your hand in his much larger one as he squeezes it back gently.

"Deal." That small smile from before is still there. "So what's next?" he asks.

The thing you never realized, being an ordinary person bereft of super genes or other superhuman powers is just how convenient commuting can be if you have them. 

No longer do you have to brave the Lynchian nightmare that is the NYC subway system. Half-naked manic street preachers giving sermons as you’re held hostage, with nowhere else to go in the carriage. Being chased down by a drunk trumpeting Mariachi band. Instead, all you need to do to get from point A to point B (A: being the Chrysler building and B: the building formerly known as your home) is to hold on tight to Miguel as he swings you both above the city gridlock.

You imagine that this is what paragliding must feel like, except it's so much better because here you don't have to do the safety training beforehand or pay $3,000 for the privilege.

The city skyline is a dark evening blue, dotted with the sparkling lights of office buildings, cab roof lights and street lamps, as the wind ruffles through the fabric of your clothes.

It's such a different sight when you're flying above instead of walking on the streets below, that you don't even clock that you're in your neighborhood, until you see a building with a collapsed wall that's been blocked off, looking like a crash site. Only then do you realize... you're home.

Miguel carefully sets you down on your feet on a small patch of concrete that is clear of the rubble and destruction.

"Why did you want to come back here again?" he asks. 

It’s a good question. Now that you're here, standing in the middle of charred debris and cracked bricks, you're not sure either. You had some vague plans of seeing what you could salvage, hoping for some clothes, maybe your electric toothbrush, or really just any of your stuff. Something that’s yours, no matter how small, to hold on to after the events of today have ripped away life as you know it.

But there’s nothing left. The furniture, all your books and knick knacks, and even your dirty laundry piles have been demolished. Your home as you know it is gone. There's only piles and piles of rubble and traces of white fire extinguisher foam on the ground. The fire has been out for hours, but the pungent smell of smoke and sulfur still pervades the air. 

"You okay?" Miguel asks.

He's still standing at the outer edges of the apartment, close to where your window would have been if a helicopter hadn't crashed through it.

"Yeah... I guess the silver lining is that I didn't have anything expensive. Though it'd been nice if I could've saved my mom's Le Creuset set or at least the nanny-cam so I could return it and get a refund," you joke glibly. 

You nudge aside some concrete rubble with the cap of your shoes. There's nothing under there, no treasured memorabilia that's still miraculously intact. Just more burnt concrete and rubble.

"Why did you have a nanny cam?"

You turn around at his question, to see him hovering close to you, one eyebrow raised with an unhappy set to his jaw. 

From the displeased expression on his face, he's probably misunderstanding something here. Probably thinks you're operating a very unlucrative Onlyfans business, when what you've really been doing is spy on him and his nightly visits. You don't know which is worse to confess to, so you don't confess to anything.

"No reason," you say, ignoring the way his already raised eyebrow twitches with irritation at your lack of an answer.

"Come on, let's go," he says, and he waves towards you in a come hither motion like he's commanding a dog.

"Go?" you ask him. "It's past midnight. My place, as you can see, is wrecked. Go where exactly?"

Miguel shoots you a strange look. "A hotel," he says, like it's the most obvious thing, and– okay, he's not completely wrong in that assumption.

Problem is, you didn't have time to pick up your wallet or phone before your impromptu interdimensional visit. They’ve been incinerated along with all the rest of your worldly possessions, which means you don't have any way to pay for a hotel.

Plus Manhattan hotel prices average $400 a night. Even if you still had access to your debit cards, your budget’s pretty tight right now after all the capital you invested in your unhinged quest to trap the superhero before you. 

"In the city? I don't have that kind of money and it will take months for any insurance payouts to come in."

You should know. As an insurance claims adjuster, you know you’ll be lucky if your claim is processed before the end of the year. And, ugh, just the thought of the paperwork you’ll have to fill out is enough to give you an anxiety migraine.

"I’ll cover the room," Miguel says casually before holding out a hand to you, "Come on, let’s go."

When Miguel said he’d cover it, you expected a reasonably-priced room at one of the Days Inn across the river or the like. Hopefully a place with no rats or bed bugs, and maybe clean bedding over a somewhat comfortable mattress for you to pass out on if you were lucky.

You didn't expect this.

Standing in front of the Midtown Four Seasons, you find yourself on sleek marble so polished you can see your own reflection. You haven't even stepped a foot inside yet and there are two old fashioned doormen, wearing immaculately fitted suits, with an even more impressive posture opening the majestic double-set doors for you as you approach.

It's swanky as hell, and you can’t help gawking like a tourist, eyes glued to the decadent carved ceilings that must be at least 30 feet tall, soaring above you. Honey-colored limestone that looks like it’s been looted from Ancient Rome.

You feel more than a little bit out of place. This is way outside of your budget. You could probably work your job for a lifetime, and not have enough disposable income to stay the night at a place like this.

"Uhm, Miguel... this place is way too–" you start, turning towards him.

But as you were busy lamenting the state of the housing market, he's already walked away from you (for such a bulky guy, he moves swiftly and silently) and as you whip your head around to find him, he's already standing in front of the receptionist.

Damned antelope legged man, would it kill him to wait up for you once in a while? You run up after him and have to tip-toe in order to see over his shoulder because the giant mammoth is blocking the check-in counter.

And wow, even the receptionist here is of a different caliber than the ones you'd find at Holiday Inn. A fashionable bob-cut with razor sharp edges, looking like a model cut out from a Vogue cover.

"Do you have a reservation, Sir?"

You half-expect him to say no, and that the two of you would have to tuck your tail between your legs and walk out of here to the backdrop of a sad trombone playing.

To your astonishment he says your name. The receptionist tip-taps away at her keyboard and then she nods and smiles gracefully at you both. 

"Yes of course. After reviewing your reservation details, I am pleased to inform you that all necessary arrangements have already been made, including advance payment and verification of your identification. Your room is ready for you, we trust you will enjoy your stay."

She flashes you a pearly white smile so shiny it's almost blinding and hands you a hotel key card. 

When you turn around, to your confusion Miguel is no longer next to you. How does he keep disappearing like this? 

"Cielito," Miguel’s voice calls. The nickname doesn’t register at first. It doesn't even occur to you that he’s referring to you, until he barks it out a second time. 

Your head darts up to see him standing by the elevator, tapping his feet impatiently as he waits for you to make it over to him.

"How did you do that?" you whisper loudly to him as you step into the elevator. "Where did you get my ID? How did you make a reservation? How did you--"

He takes your hand, mid-sentence, turning your wrist upwards and taps the watch.

"The computer systems in this universe are child's play for Lyla to manipulate. Reservations, money, ID, she can take care of all of that easily," he explains.

"She can do that?" you ask, and Miguel merely nods at you as the elevator closes behind the two of you.

You tip your head down to inspect your gifted watch. In awe of this technical marvel that would make Siri look like it’s from the stone-ages. You wonder if she can boost your credit scores. She could probably hack any wi-fi password so you'd never have to worry about data throttling again. She could get you table reservations for Libertine! The possibilities are endless!

You turn to Miguel. "Can Lyla get me Beyoncé tickets?" you ask. 

He just shakes his head at you with what almost qualifies as an amused smile.

The room upstairs is massive. 

It’s easily three times the size of your little studio apartment, and the ceilings are twice as tall, with a hanging glass chandelier that’s sparkling bright enough to blind you. It looks like one of those places featured in Architectural Digest. 

Everything is in an art deco style, with expensive looking furniture and even more expensive art hanging on the one spare wall that isn’t covered in floor to ceiling windows. There are large shelves and a sleek looking kitchen, complete with an opulent looking velvet lounge chair of emerald green that looks like something a Roman emperor would be fed grapes on. 

In this colossal space of a room, there is only one bed. One colossal, plush-mattress-topped, goose down duvet and probably 1,000,000,000 thread count sheet covered bed.

You tense up, not sure what the arrangements Miguel had in mind. Did he want the two of you to sleep in the same bed?

Miguel did pay for the room, so you’re not going to start voicing objections. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time in the short time span that you two have known each other to do that. This bed is also a lot wider than your tiny double bed, so it wouldn’t be the cramped disaster it was last night. You’d just have to make sure to use the bathroom before bed this time so he doesn’t jab your full bladder in the morning again. 

Without saying anything, Miguel strides across the length of the room with impatient and determined steps. His hand reaches for the balcony doors and slides them open. 

"Wait wait, where are you going?" you ask him as you run up to the middle of the room. 

“I’m sleeping outside,” he says over his shoulder, and your mind boggles with that. 

“Why? Isn’t it better for you to stay here?”

"This is the 62nd floor. That’s about as safe as you’re going to get. I’ll keep a lookout to make sure no more helicopters come crashing in.” 

You’re not sure if he means the last part as a joke or not, but as you watch his broad back retreating as he walks away from you, a sickening sort of the deja vu twists through your chest. 

I can’t save you, he’d said back in your apartment, Nothing can. 

The feeling clawing at your chest feels alarmingly like panic. It screams that he’s leaving you. That he’s never coming back. That you’ll never see him again. 

You’re being irrational, and you know it. You remind yourself that he wouldn’t have done this much for you only to bail in the middle of the night, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s festering, sharp and urgent, under your skin, or the way your heart races, your whole body flashing hot and cold at the same time. 

You want him to stay. 

“Miguel,” you call out, and he immediately stops and turns to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical question. 

Please stay. 

You open your mouth, but the words won’t come out. You can’t ask this man—this big, sarcastic, rude hulk of a man—to have a sleepover with you because you’re scared to be alone in the dark. He would laugh you out of the hotel room.

“Uhm… thank you,” you say instead, but it’s no less sincere, “For everything.”

His eyes soften, the sharp narrowness of them easing up. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, and despite the cold chill of the evening, you think you can see a faint flush blooming in his cheeks, before he quickly ducks his face from you. “I’ll be right outside if something happens.” 

He turns back around and walks out, closing the patio doors with a gentle click behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

It’s quiet. 

You survey the empty room you’re in. Without Miguel’s large frame taking up space, it seems even bigger than it did before. 

It’s a beautiful room. Something that you’re pretty sure you’ve seen in a movie set. You don’t know why you’re not as excited as you were before. This is you living your Pretty Woman moment. You should be filling up the big jacuzzi tub you saw with bubbles. Heck, maybe ask Lyla to order you a bottle of champagne from room service. 

Instead, your eyes linger on the glass patio doors leading to the balcony terrace. You walk over to the bed, perching yourself down on the edge of the mattress, then flop down. 

Might as well try to sleep, you think to yourself as you climb under the covers and switch off the light. The best thing you can do right now is catch yourself some rest so you’ll be alert while trying to figure out your next steps tomorrow.

3 months… That’s what Miguel told you.

That’s all the time you have left. 

That means you don’t have time to waste, but you also have no idea where to start. The local library doesn’t exactly carry any resources on how to stop the universe from trying to kill you. 

The Universe. 

An infinite cosmos, grander than any human being can possibly comprehend. This vast space containing all the galaxies with its billions of stars and planets, where an individual being does not even register as a speck, and it wants you dead. How can you possibly fight against those odds? 

You lie wide-eyed and awake staring into the dark of the room, and the feeling of dread gnaws into you. 

You don’t want to be alone right now. Turning in the bed, your eyes find their way back to the blank slate of the pitched night outside the balcony doors. 

You really wished he had stayed with you. 

Sitting upright in the bed, you consider your options. You can lie back down. Suffer insomnia and the existential horror of knowing the universe is trying to murder you. Or you can man up, swallow down whatever tiny morsel of your pride you have left and ask Miguel to come back inside and stay with you. 

Flinging the duvet from your body, you get up to walk over to the balcony. You hesitate for a moment before tapping the window pane the way you might knock on a door, giving a polite head's up before you slide the balcony patio open. But when you poke your head out, turning your head left and right, Miguel's nowhere to be found. 

Okay, that’s weird. He said he’d be right outside if you needed him. You walk up to the ledge of the balcony terrace, leaning over the rail and peer down to see him dangling upside down, from the ledge of your balcony. The sight nearly makes you scream. 

"Miguel!” 

At you calling his name, he pulls himself up, one clawed hand gripping at the concrete wall as he climbs his way up and over to you. He makes it look easy, as if gravity does not exist for him, and it’s only a moment until he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, facing you. 

“What’s wrong?” he demands, eyes concerned, and you’re suddenly aware of how very close he is. His face mere inches from yours, your noses nearly touching.

“What’s wrong? You’re hanging upside down from the 62nd floor! What are you, a bat?!"

“Why did you come out here?” he clarifies, and his words give you pause. You try to gather your thoughts after the bizarre sight you just walked into and remember what you came out here for. 

He’s still looking at you with his full and intense concentration that makes your skin prickle with warmth.

God, it’s embarrassing to ask. You feel like you’re five years old, asking your parents to turn the nightlight on, even though you know you’re a big girl now and aren’t supposed to be afraid of monsters hiding under your bed any more. 

You look down on your hands, where you’re wringing them together, then back up at him, and make yourself spit it out, "Could you… maybe… stay with me tonight?" 

His eyes widen at your question, but he doesn’t actually answer you and gives you no physical indication one way or the other. 

"I feel safer when you're with me,” you admit. 

“I am with you out here,” he counters, because of course he can’t make this easy for you.  

“I can’t see you out here.”

The line of his shoulder eases, and he ducks his head down with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Get back inside, Cielito. You're going to catch a cold like this."

You shuffle back inside to your bed, watching out of the corner of your eye as  he follows you inside and settles himself on the lounge sofa. He’s so tall that his feet are sticking out over the armrests, like a long-legged stork. 

Hiding a smile, you climb back into bed, wrapping the bedding all around yourself.

“Good night,” you call out, and he makes a grumpy noise of acknowledgment. 

Your head drops back onto the soft pillow, and you close your eyes, ready to sleep. It’s such a nice bed. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin and smell of fresh eucalyptus. The mattress is the most comfortable you ever remember resting on, firm but somehow soft at the same time. You feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud. 

Moments go by, and you revel in the sumptuous bed, waiting for the best sleep of your life to claim you. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Somehow… you still can’t fall asleep. Is it… too soft maybe? You turn in the bed, twisting your torso to get into a position you can comfortably sink into, but something doesn’t feel right. There’s no lumpiness like at home, but that should be a good thing. 

Except… despite the decadent softness of the bed. Despite the fact that the sheets probably have a thread count with more zeros than your checking and savings accounts combined. Despite all of the luxury that surrounds you, you still find yourself tossing and turning and wide fucking awake.

The bed is too big. You don’t know what to do with all this space. Your body is not accustomed to this sort of decadence. What if you suffocate sinking into this soft fluffy pillow in your sleep? What if you toss and turn until you fall off this massive bed and break your neck? Maybe that’s how out of all of the universe’s attempts to kill you, you end up dying? 

Fuck! 

You can’t sleep. 

You turn to your side and stare into the velvet lounge chaise on the opposite side of your room, where Miguel is. 

Quietly, you pad up to his still form until you’re standing in front of him and hunch over, trying to decide how rude it would be to wake him up again when there's nothing he can do about your stupid insomnia anyway.

In the dim light, you spot something glinting at you. Looking closer, you notice that the thin chain looped around his neck has escaped his shirt to pool on the fabric of the sofa cushion under him. You gently drag the loose end of the necklace toward you, and find a smooth golden band threaded onto it.

Picking it up cautiously, you flip it in your hand and find that there's something engraved on the inside.  It's hard to see in the darkness, but when you lean closer and squint your eyes, you can just make out what it says.

'MO'—undeniably the initials of one Miguel O'Hara.

Twisting the ring slightly, you find a tiny plus sign followed by your own initials, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.

Oh.

The memory of sitting across Miguel at Starbucks returns to you, when you had asked him who you were to him. You think of the avoidant gaze and how he couldn't look you in the eye.

‘Something like that,’ huh?

Guess the other you wasn't just his girlfriend after all, you think, chest drawn so tight it’s painful.

Holding the wedding band in the palm of your hand, you slide down to sit down on the floor with your back pressed against the chaise lounge.

Your heart aches for the man in front of you and everything he's lost.  You really, really hope you're not going to end up as just another regret on his list.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: As always to my best friend @thirstworldproblemss I am half asleep and running on fumes. I'm wording things poorly but I just want you to know that I am very happy I have you. Thank you for being my friend and for the time we get to spend together. I have the most fun when I'm with you.

Also to @guruan who is my muse, my source of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to her because have you seen this beautiful piece of artwork she did for EYEM?!

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #marvel #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel mcu

[thementalshawty]

PAC Your FS’s Vibe

So hello again the ghost is reappearing sorry to my babies, work is heavy and wearing me out I work at FedEx y’all. Package handling heavy ass boxes everyday for the week! I’ve been worn out, but that don’t mean ion love you guys and I feel like shit for not being more consistent. So I’m back with a quick PAC reading so you can get a quick little vibe of your FS just something to tickle your fancy. If you’d like more material and details even readings every month join my patreon which shall be featured on the bottom of this reading! REMEMBER! This is a GENERAL reading so take everything lightly and let the rest flow to another thank you. Let’s begin shall we.

VIBE 1:

VIBE 2:

VIBE 3:

VIBE 4:

VIBE 1:

You Got The DEATH card. So your FS regardlesss of gender is intense! They’re Scorpionic! They may be a Scorpio or have Scorpio in their natal chart. They’ve been through a lot of transitions and changes, some of them could’ve been surrounded by a lot of death actual people dying around them, so I’m hearing they may not get close to people they feel everyone they love dies type shit. This person is hella strong and mysterious, they have a lot of admires I’m hearing the word smolder so maybe they do that with their eyes. Something about their eyes stand out 👀 They know how to make people swoon. They will have you always giggling and rolling their eyes, you’ll always be trying to figure them out. Everyday is new and exciting with them you just feel so eager to learn about them, they’re enticing I’m hearing. They look good and they give me vampire vibes some lestat, and others Louis from interview with a vampire show on AMC and not money or anything just their swagger and vibe. Some even looks. They’re very serious to they take no shit and they’re not the ones to mess with! They’ve been through some shit I’m feeling. Also looks good in hoodies or wears a lot of them. A boogie with the hoodie vibes too for some reason. By

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Vibe 2:

HOLY FUCC You Guy Got The SUN ☀️! Your FS is very Sunny, upbeat, positive and full of energy! They like to see the brighter side to everything! Half glass full type of energy! The sun is very masculine energy so they can be masculine irregardless of gender. They are so happy and they just want everyone around them to be happy too, very innocent vibes too I’m getting youthful so they can be younger than you are or just makes you feel young too, I also get they look younger than they are. They have come full circle in their lives, I feel they have struggled, begged and pleaded in their life and now they’re finally doing things their way and they couldn’t be happier with it. They’re very self aware I feel! They know about their good shit and bullshit and if they’re not working on it or haven’t it’s cos they’re at peace with it and who they are and I feel they are so motivational and supportive to those around them! The cheerleader of their group. They want to see everyone win! I think they are Leo dominant or have Leo in their chart. Loud and proud very prideful so that can be an issue! They treat themselves like royalty, they may live in a warm place, they may like to lay out in the sun. They may have blonde hair some of them, longer too esp if it’s a feminine. This person is just awesome their vibe is so lit I love them already they just want to smile and have a good time! They have gotten lucky so many times in their life I feel they’re very a happy go lucky kinda person, they’re a joy to be around! Warm, loving, accepting, embracing I’m hearing they’re like a hug!

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Vibe 3: You Got The Star ⭐️! So I’m seeing your FS has got very healing energy and vibes going on, they’re very inspirational and people go to them for advice and hope. This person always tries to help others and uplift them. Motivational speaker right here! I’m feelin like for some not all! Your FS is a celebrity, they could have star power if anything, locally known. Your FS is the type to wish upon a shooting star! They’re incredibly sweet and loving the type to adopt animals and kids even! They believe in the betterment of the world and the planet, man in the mirror by Michael Jackson is what I’m hearing they are basically too good for this fucking world! They are such an angel on this earth people feel lucky just to be in their presence! They are humanitarians! They philosophical too, brown hair for some, they can be an Aquarius or have Aquarius in their chart. They keep their heart open to faith. Not religious well some are but they do hold strong faith everything works out for the best.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Vibe 4: Aww You Got The Knight of Cups. Your FS is so sweet, they’re loving, passionate and creative asfcc! They’re an artist, they can be a water sign. Cancer & Pisces most likely! They are so beautiful too I feel they look really cute! They have can have tattoos. They hella romantic they want love! This person has style too hella swag 😆. They are the type to write love letters and songs for you, to create a beautiful picnic and surprise you for a date. They are the pursuer. Big dreams! They follow their heart, sometimes they don’t connect their mind and they need too, they’re hella emotional but it’s balanced and controlled. They are the type to woo you, sweep you off your feet! They will court you! This person has a big heart. Your white knight! They are the type to go save their homie at 6am in the morning and they’re still in sleep mode. They don’t care they are down and I feel since it’s cups they just flow too, they aren’t really against pushing against the current, they can probably play guitar some of them. They’re an Angel and they love hard!

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Well

That’s all you guys I hope you liked it and it resonated I promise imma try to be better also if you’d like to join my patreon we have unlimited openings lol the link is here!

THANK YOU GUYS LOVE YA!!

#tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot community #psychic #tarot cards #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #tarot readings #tarot witch #thementalshawty #fs pac #fs reading

[beenbaanbuun]

hii bunny! 🤍🤍

i was wondering if you maybe could write something angsty with mingi? like he’s had a long day and snaps at you a little after seeing your clothes on the floor or something.. like it would never bother him on a normal day but it’s just been a long day for him

it’s not too harsh but it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him have that tone with you so obviously it’s a lot for you 🫣 it doesn’t take him long to realize and regret it but by the time he does you’re already outside on the verge of tears and getting some fresh air.. he basically panics and texts you and calls you 😭 there’s no answer for around 10 minutes and just as he’s about to go outside and look for you, not even bothering throwing an hoodie on, he opens the door and sees you standing there with a little bag with his favorite snacks that you bought for him and he immediately starts apologising

sorry if this is quite specific i just hope it helps a little with your ideas! if you want to change anything you can! you can add smut and make it angsty or you can make it sweet and soft.. maybe even both 🤷‍♀️

i feel like he’s so gentle and definitely would love his partner too much, and just the thought of that he’s upset them could kill him

i cried writing this so i hope you enjoy it 🫡

——————————————————————————

to say that mingi’s day was hard would be an understatement. he barely slept the previous night, the constant beeping of the fire alarm begging for new batteries that they didn’t yet have keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning. he thinks it was sheer exhaustion that sent him to sleep at just gone 4am, and he was equally exhausted when san woke him two hours later for practice. he had half a mind to tell his friend to fuck off and just go back to sleep, but then he heard the beep of the fire alarm and decided he had no chance. he was going to have to stay awake.

then came practice, which was never easy, but for some reason was so much worse today. it started with yunho, who was being so much stricter than usual, jaw clenching and eyes filling with fire if anyone even dared to get a single step wrong. with mingi’s tired brain, he wasn’t afraid to admit that most of those glares were aimed at him; intricate footwork is more difficult when you can hardly string two thoughts together, it seems. annoyance doesn’t help with that either, yet with every pointed look at yunho gets him, he feels his blood boiling more and more.

then you have the troublemakers who seemed to make it their sole purpose today to annoy every single other person in that room. san and wooyoung were naturally loud people, but today they seemed to have the dial turned up to twelve. of course, yeosang was dragged into it too, offering quiet, but not unheard, snarky comments to go along with whatever nonsense the other pair were babbling about. mingi wasn’t sure how much more of that high-pitched cackle he could stand before it made his achy head explode.

and last, but certainly not least, there was hongjoong, perhaps mingi’s biggest issue out of his members. he too seemed to be in a bad mood, but unlike mingi who had yet to retaliate to any of the shit show going on around him, hongjoong just couldn’t seem to shut his mouth. someone misstepped? he’d yell at them. someone misspoke? he’d yell at them. it was just a constant wall of sound coming from his leader and mingi wasn’t sure just how much more he could take until…

“everyone just go,” hongjoong groans, anger and frustration laced through his features. “it’s clear no one is taking it seriously today so just go!”

a miracle.

mingi wastes no time in grabbing his bag and running out of the practice room without even a glance back at his members. perhaps later he’ll text them and let them know where he is, but for now he just needs you. he needs your arms to wrap around him and keep him warm as he sleeps. he needs your voice to float around his brain as he drifts away. he needs you.

he’s thankful that you live close because before he knows it, he’s at your door, fishing your key from his pocket. he fiddles with it excitedly, scraping it against the door a few times by accident before finally slipping it into the keyhole. he twists it and pushes it open, expecting to find you buzzing around your apartment like a cute little bumble bee.

instead he’s met with silence and darkness, curtains still drawn and your lively little self nowhere to be seen. there’s pots in the sink, mess strewn across the floor and the trash bag from last night still propped up by the door. mingi lets out a long sigh.

he knows it’s wrong of him to feel annoyed by all of this, and normally he wouldn’t. it’s just after the day he’s had, all he wanted was to cuddle up to you in a nice tidy, stress-free apartment. now he has to take your load on his shoulders as well. he has to pick up your pieces whilst he’s still desperately trying to hold all of his together. but this is it; this is his last straw, and the irritation and frustration he’s been barely holding back all day suddenly bursts free of its dam. he cant stop himself as he kicks off his shoes, not caring where they go (it’s not like it’ll make any difference with the state your apartment in is anyway) and storms his way down the hallway to your bedroom.

your door is already open, and through it he can see you still in bed. you’re curled up under the quilt, just like he has wanted to be all day. just like he hasn’t been able to because he has been busy. for some reason it only fills him with more annoyance, and he steps over the threshold into your room and slams the door behind him.

he can see that the sound startles you, but he can’t find it in him to care. he just stares down at you, a mixture of anger and disappointment twisting his features as you groggily sit up to look at him. your eyes are red, as are your cheeks, but mingi just brushes it off. the painful pang in his chest upon seeing you like that is hardly enough to outweigh everything else he feels.

“really?” he bends down to pick up a t-shirt before holding it up to show you. you stare at it blankly, not sure what he’s trying to get at.

“what’s wrong, mingi?” your voice is strained as if you’d been crying recently. if mingi wasn’t so blinded by everything, perhaps he would’ve noticed how fragile you seem to be. perhaps he’d be able to take a step back and see that you need him to comfort you, not berate you. it’s a shame his head is too full of his own feelings to even consider yours.

“what’s wrong?” he scoffs, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “this! everything!” he gestures wildly around your room as if it explains anything. “i don’t need to deal with this shit right now, baby! i can’t!”

he watches as your brows furrow in confusion, hurt washing over your features. there’s something in his that tells him that it’s enough, that he’s said and done too much already, but there’s still more on the tip of his tongue and he needs to get it out of him before he bursts.

“i have enough on my plate without having to take care of you, alright?” his voice comes out harsher than he means it to, more of a shout than anything else, and by the way your expression tightens, he can tell he’s hurt you.

that’s when it all sinks in for him, when you hum, nodding your head slowly as his words echo around your brain. your eyes look down at your hands, thumbs picking at one another awkwardly. he’s said too much, gone too far, he can understand that now. like, really understand it. he should’ve stayed silent. ignored the shit spewed across the floor and crawled into your bed like he’d been wanting to do all day.

well shit, he thinks to himself, he never meant to hurt you. he doesn’t know what he wanted to do by telling you those things, but this wasn’t it.

“sorry,” is all you say when you toss the comforter off your legs. you’re dressed in the same clothes that he saw you in yesterday; had you slept in them? “i, uh… i’ll get out of your hair for a little while, mingi. it seems like you need a little alone time… you’re stressed.” and with that you stand up. mingi lets you, unsure of what to say to you as you grab your wallet from your nightstand and push past him. your hand feels like a hot iron pressed against his shoulder as you side-step him, and he almost, almost, goes to catch it.

before he can, you’re gone, and all he does is stand there as he listens to you open the door and walk out of the apartment.

your apartment.

he sits on your bed, twisting his hands into the comforter as he tries to ground himself. he’d kicked you out of your own apartment because of what? he doesn’t even know himself. he can’t wrap his head around the sudden burst of anger that washed over him like a tsunami. there was no escape from it until it passed, and now he’s left with with aftermath; the pain of upsetting you.

he knew from the moment he stepped in your apartment that you weren’t doing well. the drawn blinds, the pots left over from last night; he’s seen it time and time again and he’s never been upset at you for it. there’s been no anger or frustration there. no cross words or disappointment. nothing except sympathy and the desire to make everything okay for you again.

so, what? he got jealous because you were allowed to sit and wallow in your bad mood and he wasn’t? he got mad that coming to your apartment wasn’t the perfect whirlwind of softness and affection that he’d hoped for? god, he feels pathetic for how he treated you. even more so at the fact that he still feels so desperate for your comfort. he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but holy fuck does he need it.

he lets himself sit there in the pain for just a little while longer. perhaps if he lets himself hurt enough, he might deserve to have you back in his arms. if he repents, everything might be okay again. you’ll forgive him for what he said to you and hold him gently like he needs. you’ll whisper sweet words and kiss his head like he wants. you’ll be kind to him despite the fact that he hasn’t been kind to you. you’ll let him rest…

when he feels enough time has passed, he slips a hand into his pocket to grab his phone. there’s a message or two from his members asking where he went, but he ignores them. they can wait, you can’t. he locates you contact, pressing his thumb against the call button and letting it ring. a few seconds pass before he hears it loud and clear; your phone in the other room. he perks up a little—maybe you’re still here! his legs carry him faster than he can process. he swings the door open with little care about the way it slams against your dresser, and tumbles into the kitchen… where your phone is abandoned… with you nowhere to be seen.

mingi’s heart plummets even further. you’re gone, and now he won’t even have a way to know that you’re safe. it’s still daylight outside but what if you get lost? what if you stay out too long and it gets dark? what if you need him? he lets out a cry of stress, hands flying up to grip his bleached locks tightly in his hands. he feels fucking useless.

for just a moment he lets himself play the blame game with himself. it’s his fault. all of it is. anything could be happening to you and it would be his fault. he upset you and he let you leave! it’s all him, him, him… that makes it his to fix too.

he doesn’t let himself think as he walks over to the door. he doesn’t bother with a jacket, his brain telling him it would take too much time to slip it onto his shoulders. hell, he barely bothers with his shoes! just slips his feet in, not sparing a single thought to the way his feet are currently crushing the backs down. that’s the least of his worries, anyway. he can buy new shoes, he can’t replace you.

his hand reaches out to grab the door handle. it’s just centimetres away, almost close enough to grab it. his fingers begin to curl around the metal, but someone else gets there first. the handle dips down, and the door creeks as it opens just the tiniest bit. mingi gasps, moving at the speed of lighting to pull the door even wider. he knows exactly who’s on the other side, and his desperation to see you can’t be contained. he barely even looks at you before scooping you up into his arms.

“ouch, mingi,” you squirm as he holds you tighter than you think you’ve ever been held before. “you’re trapping my hair! let go, you giant oaf.”

he doesn’t, but he does loosen his grasp just a touch. not enough to let you fully breathe again, but just so you can save your hair from being pulled from your head. you’re grateful for that, at least, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to wriggle free. “let me go,” you reiterate, body still moving as he holds you against his broad chest, “i need to give you something but i can’t when you have me trapped!”

“you don’t need to give me anything,” he pouts as he presses a wet kiss against your hairline. it’s all very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like now is not the time.

“yes i do!” you twist your body in a way that makes it impossible for mingi to keep hold of you, gasping in a dramatic fashion as if you’d been starved of oxygen completely. mingi can’t help but smile at your performance, even if his arms do feel a little too empty now you’re not in them. you are absolutely adorable, after all. “i need to give you this because it’ll melt otherwise.”

that’s when he notices the clear plastic bag in your hand. if he looks carefully, he can just about make out the pint of hazelnut ice cream and the bag of shrimp chips; his favourites. confused, he brings his gaze back up to your face, noticing the shy smile that rests on your lips as you raise the bag up for him to take. “for me?” he asks. you only give him a quick nod in response. “but… why?”

when he doesn’t take the bag, you roll your eyes and stomp past him to the kitchen. it hits the counter with a thud, and mingi flinches. are you angry with him? of course, you have every right to be but if he’s being honest, he’s rather that you weren’t. he really needs you right now. he slinks up behind you, watching as you busy yourself with taking the snacks out of the bag. his arms ache with the desire to be wrapped tightly around your waist, but he somehow manages to hold himself back.

“because you’re obviously not doing good,” you say as you yank the cutlery drawer open to grab two spoons. it doesn’t go unnoticed when you pull out the flat one with the thin handle alongside the deep one with the heavy handle; his and your favourite spoons, respectively. his chest aches with love as you, actually rather violently stab the container with both of them. he always has loved your silly little antics.

“yeah, well you’re not doing good either,” he tries to argue, but you shut him up with a glare.

“me not doing well doesn’t mean i can’t try to help you when you’re not doing well,” you shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “my feelings don’t negate your feelings and i love you, so i want to try and help you.” whether it’s a loaded statement or not, mingi can’t help but understand the irony. either you’re trying to teach him a lesson or the universe is. judging by the look in your eyes, he thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s you.

“i get it,” he nods, “i’m sorry for being a dick, you don’t deserve that.”

“i don’t deserve it, but i do understand it and i’m not going to torture you for it when it’s obvious you’ve been torturing yourself,” you point a finger up to his messed up hair, “what i am going to do is get in bed with you and eat a shit ton of ice cream, capeesh?”

“yeah, baby,” he smiles, “capeesh…”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez angst #mingi fluff #mingi x reader #mingi angst

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 1. The King Of The Ring.

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Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2899 words. A/N: Hiya! Well, I am up-to-date with Jinx, and even tho it's so fun to read, I just fucking hate Joo Jaekyung so much! So, I decided to kinda write my own version with my favorite toxic man. Hope you like it, folks!

“Sukuna Ryomen, ladies and gentlemen! He demonstrated again why he is the king of the ring!” The excited narrator exclaimed, meanwhile the king flexed the golden belt around his waist after another amazing fight. 

His body was glossed with sweat, his lips were smiling proudly and the blood of his opponent was sliding down his skin. A dangerous beast who just caught his prey. They showed the repetition of the final hit in slow motion, a perfect punch in the perfect moment. Luck doesn’t exist in the world of mixed martial arts, we have unique opportunities instead. I also used to believe that luck didn’t exist, until I witnessed it in person. 

“It’s here,” I thought out loud when I saw the giant sign that read Team Black MMA Gym in bright white and red letters. 

It was the most important MMA gym in Tokyo. I heard that they only accept the fighters with most potential of the country. My trainer told me that I should try out but, as a woman, I wasn’t particularly interested in entering a male-exclusive gym. The only woman there is the physiotherapist. 

I took the elevator to the gym’s floor. When the doors opened, the smell of sweat and the sound of the metal weights welcomed me. I just stepped inside, and I had already eyes of me, was expecting it to be honest. A woman in a gym filled by rugged men isn’t something you see every day. It didn’t help that I was using an oversize gray hoodie which covered my shorts, making it seem that I wasn’t wearing any pants. 

The gym was divided is training areas. In the corner, there was a real ring that stood tall for fighters to simulate real combats. Along the gym, there were several punching bags, weight stations and resistance equipment. Also, there were more areas designed to practice different fighting styles. 

The sound of the punches and kicks, mixed with the instructions of the coaches, created a threatening and energetic environment. You could easily notice who were the fighters with discipline. Those were working hard to perfect their skills, showing off their determination in every move. The place was impregnated with a spirit of self-improvement and sportsmanship, where the passion for martial arts was in every corner. 

“Welcome, miss.”  A tall blonde man called me.

“You must be the manager, Nanami Kento,” I greeted with a bow, which was reciprocated. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he greeted back. “Let me introduce you to your trainee.” He leaded the way through the heavy equipment to the outstanding ring. 

Sukuna was simulating a fight with another member of the gym. Nanami and I just waited for them to finish so he could introduce me. Sukuna was constantly moving towards his opponent, creating closure enough so he could punch him better. The power difference could be noticed from what they were wearing. Sukuna was just wearing a black compressed shirt and gray shorts, meanwhile his black haired opponent was wearing the gym uniform and all the protection equipment available. 

It was a different experience watching live the king of the ring in action. The details like the sound of the punching winds and how Sukuna’s muscles flexed with every move were lost on the TV. When Sukuna threw a definite left jab that left his opponent in the floor, I couldn’t help to gulp hard. He was a killing machine. 

“Great job!” Nanami applauded along some other fighters who were witnessing the fight as well. I clapped so I didn’t look so out of place. 

Sukuna turned to my way and a grimace of disgust appeared on his face, a total stranger with no pants on. He took his gloves off and throw them to my feet. “So this is how it is going to be?” I asked myself, not even bothering picking them up. Sukuna gritted his teeth when I didn’t react. 

“What an awful cleaning lady you hired, Kento,” Sukuna disdainfully said. 

“She is not a cleaning lady! She is your new coach,” Nanami introduced me, ashamed by the attitude of his star athlete. 

“Kick her out, I don’t need a new coach,” Sukuna groaned. 

“If I knew this was going to be like this, why am I here?” I asked myself in my mind, starting to take back my decision of becoming the coach of a well-known fighter with anger issues. Ah, I remember now. I needed to see something for myself. 

“Hello? Am I talking with y/n?” A couple of weeks ago, Nanami Kento called to my gym, desperate. 

“You are talking with her,” I answered, thinking he was a recruiter or someone in the UFC. 

“Great. My name is Nanami Kento, and I am Sukuna Ryomen’s manager.” A famous fighter in the MMA world. The world champion in the light heavyweight division. The king of the ring and a wild tiger during interviews due to his lack of humbleness. A horrible person to the simple eye, a magnificent opponent in the ring. 

“I’ll be straight forward. I don’t if you saw his last fight…” Sukuna’s last fight was in Las Vegas against Suguru Geto, another amazing fighter. The interesting thing about that encounter was seeing two great fighters specialized in opposite areas. Geto specializes in floor fighting, meanwhile Ryomen is an incredible boxer. Everyone went crazy when the fight was announced, could Sukuna beat him with just his bare punches, or would Geto be able to bring him down to his advantage?

In the middle of the fourth round, Geto pulled him to the floor and Sukuna was in problems. Obviously, Sukuna has some training in floor fighting, but he that wasn’t enough when you are against the best. Sukuna tried to set himself free by the force, but his punches weren’t good enough to win the fight. 

“It will be a technical knockout.” I thought out while watching the fight from the comfort of my living room. I was eating chips mindlessly until I saw a unique opportunity. 

Sukuna, in some way, could free himself from Geto’s strong grip. With great momentum, Sukuna delivered a precise punch to the jaw that completely knocked Suguru out. I jumped from the couch to watch closely the repetition. I had seen Geto do that chokehold a thousand times, no opponent can just simply free themselves like that. My eyes couldn’t believe how clean that punch was. 

“The thing is that his coach and I believe he must improve his floor techniques,” Nanami explained the situation.

“There are many more renowned trainers who specialize in floor, why me?” I asked, curious at the whole conversation. I have heard rumors that Sukuna is pretty picky with whom he lets in his gym. 

“You are right. You have been the tenth coach I had called today,” Nanami honestly answered. “Sukuna is too stubborn and doesn’t want to admit that he was also beaten in his last fight. He goes out of his way to get rid of every coach we bring him.”

“Why do you think I will accept?” I asked. If he was calling me, a woman, there’s must be a reason. 

“If I believe someone can humble him and teach him some discipline is you,”  he declared. 

An offended smile appeared on my face. I wasn’t going to let Sukuna Ryomen treat me like if I was a slack to deal with. Now I understood why every coach gave up on him, you cannot train something that doesn't want to be trained, but you can tame it. 

“Sukuna, we already talked about this. You should train with someone who specializes in floor so what happened in Vegas doesn't happen again,” his coach said, Satoru Gojo. A tall white haired man in an all black coaching uniform. He was standing beside him with his arms crossed, clearly stressed from dealing with his bratty attitude all day. 

“What happened in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas. I don’t need another stupid coach,” he defended himself while he brushed his hair back with his fingers. 

“You win, I won’t train you,” I said in defeat. I turned around and was making my way to the elevator. “Either way, I don’t train assholes,” I said with a sly smile. A howl from the fighters who heard me echoed through the gym. 

“Stop!” He barked. I turned around to see what he wanted. 

“You didn’t want me to leave?” I asked, trying not to smirk. 

“What did you call me?” He dared me to repeat myself. 

“Did Geto hit you so hard that you went deaf? I said, you are an asshole!” I shouted from my place. 

Nanami quickly got to me so I behaved better, but I couldn’t back down now. Sukuna scoffed and snapped his fingers at me. 

“Get up here,” he demanded as another fighter gave him back his gloves. He wanted to fight me.

“You don’t have to, miss,” Nanami warned me in a whisper. 

“I know what I am doing, don’t worry,” I answered in the same volume. 

I put the teeth protector I brought with me on my pink shoulder bag. I wrapped my hands in bandages while Sukuna was analyzing me from top to bottom. It was understandable, I was a dangerous wasp in his bee hive. The rest of the fighters stop training to get around the ring to witness the match. When I finished wrapping my hands, I took off my hoodie, revealing my abs and toned arms. Some whistle and applauded as if I was a stripper, when I could shut them up with a kick in the nuts. Sukuna, in the other hand, just kept staring, looking for weaknesses. He was being serious. 

“You better not be wasting my time,” he angrily barked. His red eyes still looking me from head to toes without shame. 

“You are already wasting mine,” I answered. Sukuna smiled, offended.

“We are really going to let this fight happen?” Nanami asked Gojo.

“It looks like it's the only way he will accept her,” Gojo said before stepping inside the ring. “Touch gloves so we can start.” I placed my gloves in the middle so Sukuna could bump them, but he just backed away. “Fucking pussy” I thought, backing up to my side. 

A small audience formed around the ring for an unusual show. A light heavyweight champion against a random girl that just showed up. It looked like the possibilities of winning weren’t on my side. I started moving my legs and arms to relax my limbs. If Sukuna was a lion, I had to be a fast gazelle. His preying eyes were on me all times. I smiled at him. He could look me everything he wanted, he didn’t scare me. It was my time to show him who was boss. 

“Fight!” Gojo shouted. 

There is a gold rule in mixed martial arts: “The first hit is the most important.” Sukuna flew towards me with a superman punch. He was open. I dodged it fast enough so I could jab him against his left cheek. The surprised audience gasped collectively. Sukuna quickly got used to my rhythm and changed his posture towards me. I created distance between us, so I could evaluate my options. I didn't have any other option than going for his legs, but that wouldn’t be a simple task. His legs were too strong to just swoop him off his feet with a single kick. I needed to do something more drastic.

Sukuna kept closing the distance between us to punch me directly, he was looking for the knockout. He was more of an offensive than defensive fighter, like I already knew. Sukuna hit me a couple of times that were celebrated by the public. They stung with power and intense pain. He was giving the best of him. I needed to answer with the same power, but in a more clever way. 

I kicked him in the stomach so he could back down, but he pushed my hand down just in time, so my kick didn’t connect well. I tried kicking the other side, this time he stopped me by grabbing my ankle. Big mistake. I impulsed myself with my other leg to kick him on his face to knock him to the floor. Sukuna fell with a big slam that made the whole audience to howl in surprised. 

I quickly got onto him to lock him down against the mat with my legs around his neck and torso. He tried getting up, just like with Geto, but I wasn’t going to let him. This was the only chance I got to beat him. I could listen to Sukuna growling under his breath. He punched me against my sides, but I couldn’t give up. I latched my left leg on his right arm, making him turn around slowly. The audience screamed confusing instructions to Sukuna because they knew if this continued like this, the fight was over. I made Sukuna turned around on his belly. I reached for his head, so I could chokehold him in between my biceps. The screams kept getting louder, but I didn’t give a damn. I needed to end him, if I wanted a place on his gym. Sukuna started to breath with difficulty while this hands tried to loosen up my powerful grasp. He was reliving what happened in Las Vegas. 

“Come on, Sukuna! Finish this!” Gojo ordered among the hollering. Sukuna sighed and obeyed. He tapped my arms three times in surrender. A technical knockout. I quickly released him and I stand tall, leaving him space so he could breathe. 

“y/n “Medusa’s snake” y/ln is the winner,” Gojo announced while raising my arm in victory. The fighters applauded me in approval. I took my dental protector to breathe comfortably through my mouth. Even though I won, I wasn’t finished. 

“Good fight…” Sukuna groaned under his breath, giving me his hand to shake. I did shake it, even though he was visibly mad. I could understand why, I just kicked his ass in front of his entire gym. 

“This means you will train Sukuna?” Nanami asked me with hope in his voice. 

“No, I said I didn’t coach assholes” I shrugged. Sukuna’s face turned from angry to offended in a hot second. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I am a world champion, you should be honored to train me!” He shouted on my face, but I didn’t budge. He wasn't upset that I had to train him. Now, he's just mad because I didn't want to train him anymore. We were making progress. 

“I am not interested in training the world champion of assholes,” I seriously said before putting my hoodie back on. 

I hung the bag on my shoulder and quickly walked away from the whole situation. I dodged the other fighters on my way out. Nanami kept following me, asking me to reconsider the offer. I took the elevator, leaving the chaos behind me. Once the doors closed, I collapsed against the wall behind me. Fighting against Sukuna was an entire workout. The bruises started to show up in purple hues, my legs were trembling weak, and my lips were begging for water. Dealing with Sukuna wasn’t an easy task. 

The elevator’s doors opened on the first floor. I stepped out just to rest my body for a minute. I took my water bottle out to drink some while I waited. What I was waiting for? I really didn’t know, but I needed to wait for someone to come chasing after me to beg me to stay. Maybe it was going to be Nanami, Gojo or any other fighter. It could be anyone. 

“Wait!” The last person that I thought would come for me said behind me. It was Sukuna. He looked tired and agitated. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. 

“What do you need, asshole?” I asked without taking the straw off my mouth. 

“Don’t call me like that,” he groaned. 

“I will once you stop acting like one,” I said, putting my water bottle aside. Sukuna rolled his eyes and sighed. He was so done. “Now you know that you need me?” I asked with a confident smirk. 

“I don't need you, but you are good. I want you in my team,” he corrected. 

“Fine, with one condition.” Sukuna raised his chin at me to continue. “You must accept that you are terrible in floor fighting.” He laughed at the “absurd condition.”

“I am a world champion, I am not terrible in floor fighting,” he angrily said. 

“It’s not good to lie so much,” I said, replicating his tone. I turned around to exit the building. “If you don’t want to fulfil my condition, I can’t train you.” 

“Wait!” Sukuna grab me by my arm to stopped me. “Fine,” he sighed again. “I am terrible at floor fighting, are you happy now?” I turned to him with a bright smile on my face. 

“See? That wasn’t that hard.”

“Hush,” he groaned, clearly embarrassed. His cheeks were a bit flustered, it was kinda cute.

“When do we start?” I asked with a proud heart. The Medusa’s Snake had beaten another terrible man. 

“Right now,” he pulled me with him, back to the elevator.

Next Part→

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#fanfic #fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk imagine #sukuna ryomen #bullet fic #jjk fluff #modern au #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #yuuji itadori #sukuna x reader #gojo satoru #jjk art #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami #kento #nanami fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #gojo

[frogchiro]

Hello! I just wanted to say I've been enjoying your writing immensely, particularly the COD omegaverse content really got to me :D You and 🐙-anon made my daydreams go wild, and I felt like sharing! English is also not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes.

141 with an omega teammate who is the youngest of the group. They know about you, but you have been using suppressors and supplements forever, so it's never been an issue. They are so strong, even some instinctual habits get suppressed. During one mission, the suppressors have been slowly wearing off. The team became aware of it, but you assure them that it won't be a problem (and it never did). Once the mission is complete, they should be able to get it sorted out. The mission is over, and everyone has to remain on base for after-mission activities. You became more agitated in a "nothing feels right" way and also not sleeping much. Concerned about his subordinate, Price confronts you about your state. You drag him back to your room, showing him the nest you've made. You ask him what's wrong with it. You've been at it for days, but whatever you do, it feels wrong. You are close to crying from frustration. Stepping into your room, Price takes a pillow and quickly realizes the problem. There's no scent besides that of the omega. He rubs the pillow against his scent glands, hands it back to you, and tells you to wait. He gathers some clothes from his room and then proceeds to ask Gaz for some shirts, who was hanging out with Soap. Soap asks what it's for, and Price tells them about the situation. Gaz hands him some t-shirts while Soap excitedly grabs his entire bedding from his room. On the last stop, Price takes one of Ghost's hoodies before all three make their way back to you. You stare at them and get flustered once you realize what they are offering. You never had the scent of an alpha (and potential mate) in your nest before, let alone multiple. Gaz steps into your room and scents more pillows and blankets while Price and Soap pile the items on a chair for you to arrange them. Price tells you to "get some rest", avoiding making a big deal and embarrassing you further. Johnny hugs you and teases you with "Sweet dreams". Gaz also wishes a good night's rest with a gentle smile before everyone returns to what they were doing before.

Bonus: It's already past midnight once Ghost is ready for his sleep. On his way to his room, he passes by yours. Not used to the heavy blend of so many alphas coming from their room, he takes a peek inside and sees the entire day's event. Their omega sleeping in Gaz's shirt, Johnny's blanket covering your lower half, sleeping on the pillow Price scented. But it's the hoodie you are holding that gets his attention. The unfamiliar happy purring from his teammate puts him at ease, making him unconsciously chirp with happiness. He's surprised by the chirping he gest in reply. You are finally content, making all those noises even while sleeping. Ghost makes his exit, his heart aching.

Anon you don't understand how happy this made me feel ;;

I don't know if it's Price, Foap and Gaz taking such good care of you (while totally ignoring any feeling for the time being lol) or Ghost and sudden strange feeling taking over when he sees you all cuddled up and scented with his packs scents and simultaneously cuddled into his black hoodie.

It would mean so much to Si :( He's still getting used to other people feeling comfortable and safe with him, he's The Ghost after all, a heartless killing machine with no remorse and yet here he is, chirping at the sight of his omega all nice and warm and cuddled up with his clothing <3

And when he gets a sleepy chirp back?? Even while you're asleep you're still responding to your alphas with a delighted little noise and that's all he needs to know.

His heart may ache with an unfamiliar pain but soon enough you would be cuddling with the whole 141 pack in your joined nest, safe and happy <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #omegaverse

[rougecreator1]

will you write Regina has anxiety

And shifty family as a bonus

Shattered Glass ||

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings: anxiety about weight and appearance, swearing, Ms. George being slightly pushy, mentions of toxic!Cady

|| Summary: Reader watched Regina get ready for school, comforting her when she had to end up wearing jogging pants because nothing else fit.

Requests open!

Started: April 21st

Finished: April 21st

I wrote this in one go 💪

~~~

Everything about her looks had to be perfect. Regina George was supposed to be the embodiment of an angelic figure who walked the Earth. Living amongst mortals. Perfect...

In her eyes, she was glass. Appears solid on the outside, beautiful, perfection. Inside? She was fragile. Like she could shatter at any minute. But she never let any of that show.

Today was no exception.

You were in her room, watching Regina get ready for school as you had stayed the night. You watched with a raised eyebrow as your girlfriend kept throwing clothes out of her closet every so often.

Regina screamed in frustration.

"Why does nothing fit?!" She yelled, your face shifted to concern as you got off the bed and joined her in the closet. Your gaze meeting hers.

You could tell she was panicking, there was a small difference in her eyes that gave it away.

"Baby..." You whispered, taking a step forward and cupping her cheeks with your hands. She leaned into your touch and sighed deeply. Hands resting on your wrists.

"Nothing fits." She whispered, looking into your eyes as one of your hands went down to her waist. Brushing your thumb against it gently as she continued," None of my clothes fit. What the hell am I supposed to wear?"

Her breathing felt quicker than normal. Your eyes widened just slightly when you noticed this. You knew you had to get her to relax first, the clothes could be a later issue.

"Deep breath, focus on me." You whisper back, keeping your voice soft and calm as the hand that was on her waist takes her hand. Holding it close to your chest.

She watched your movement, trying to follow your command. Regina did her best to pace her breathing with yours before looking into your eyes again.

The glass wall of perfection she had worked so hard to keep up had started to shatter. Her mind raced, appearance was everything to her. To the plastics. She shot a nervous glance towards her jogging pants.

It was Thursday.

Regina couldn't wear those.

But what choice did she have?

She knew it would be the only thing that fit her.

Your eyes followed her gaze and you gave her hand a comforting squeeze," G. They're your friends, right? I'm sure they'll understand." You tell her softly. Regina looks back at you, that anxiety lingered in her eyes. Even if she wasn't outwardly showing it.

"You're right. Yeah. Those rules are stupid and made up anyway. They don't actually matter." Regina convinced herself, you nodded in agreement and gave her forehead a soft kiss.

"Want me to leave so you can change?" You asked, Regina raised an eyebrow at that.

Momentarily distracted from her anxiety.

"What?" She replied.

Now you were confused," I just thought maybe-"

"Stay put." Regina cuts you off, not letting you finish your sentence as she makes you sit down on the seat in her closet," It's not anything you haven't fucking seen before."

Okay, she had a fair point.

Your cheeks flushed at her comment as she changed into her outfit. You did as told and stayed put.

Jogging pants and the blue zip up hoodie. She stared at herself in the mirror, you stood and wrapped your arms around her from behind. Arms wrapped comfortably around her waist as you pulled her in close. Thumb gently rubbing her hip in soothing motions.

"Angelic as always, baby." You assure her, kissing her jawline. You feel her relax and that's when you get an idea.

"Can we stop by my house before we go to school?" You asked.

"Yeah, sure. Forget something?" Regina looked back at you.

"Something like that." You nodded, an idea forming in your head.

The two of you hanged out in her room for a bit longer before getting ready to go, wanting to leave earlier than usual so Regina could get to your place with enough time to also go to the school.

As you both walked downstairs, hand in hand. Ms. George walked over and stopped when she saw Regina's clothes.

"Honey, no. It's Thursday." She states with a frown, looking directly at the jogging pants.

You felt Regina tense and gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

"Get off my back, Mom." Regina muttered, walking past Ms. George.

"Regina-" Before she could say anything else, you and Regina had already left and were getting into her jeep.

The drive to your place was silent, you wanted to comfort Regina but you also didn't want to push her further. You knew she reached her limit for the day already and didn't want to make things worse for her.

When she got to yours, you quickly rushed out and to your room. Doing a quick change of clothes, matching (sort of) with Regina. You wore a pair of black joggers, a white zip up sweater and to top it all off you did your hair up for the second time that week. Breaking two of the "rules" so Regina didn't feel alone.

Once changed and ready, you quickly ran back out to Regina's jeep. She took one look at you and a smile tugged at her lips.

"That's what you wanted to do?" She looks at you, her gaze shifting to the clothes you wore before coming back to your eyes.

You nodded and smiled," They won't kick both of us out, right?"

Regina nodded and relaxed more, you got into the jeep and she gave you a deep kiss to show she was grateful for what you did.

Oh, and they did kick both of you from the table. Fucking Cady.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader

[buckyalpine]

Shapeshifting Bucky

Random thought from the depths of crackfic hell. But imagine an AU where Bucky's time with hydra also included the ability to shape shift on top of his super soldier serum. He can turn into whatever but he really only shifts into a wolf most of the time. Stealthy, huge, strong, agile and an absolute puppy. Werewolf Bucky is the scariest mf to exist. In his wolf form, his fur is nearly jet black, a stark contrast to his beautiful blue eyes. His teeth turn into sharp fangs and his claws could slash through just about anything.

However.

The large furry thing is nothing but a little puppy around you.

Human Bucky struggles to show his affection for you even though he loves you like crazy. He loves touching you but hesitates to do anything. Wolf Bucky has 0 issue hopping onto the sofa he doesn't fit on, attempting to curl up in your lap. He doesn't fit on your lap either and you end up drowning under a heavy mass of dark fur, the chuff he makes as you adjust himself is equivalent to his usual pouty face.

How dare you try and squirm away when he wants pets and cuddles.

And honestly, he's pretty irresistible. Even Tony's found himself petting the soft fur when he walks by, scrunching his face when he realizes who he's petting and cursing to himself immediately after. It's not just Tony either. Most of the Avengers catch themselves mid pet, occasionally shrugging and going back in while shaking their heads at themselves.

That isn't the only thing wolf Bucky enjoys.

“Bucky!” You stare at your boyfriend who was a human last time you left him, now in his wolf form sitting on top of your duffle bag you'd packed for an upcoming mission. There's no way for you to get to it, sitting as its hidden underneath him and it doesn't look like he has any plans on moving. He growls when you try and get closer, daring for you to try and leave when you just got back from a mission earlier in the week.

"Baby, I have to go, you gotta get off" You try to reason with him but he just stares at you with piercing blue eyes. By now you can read his body language and he's not hearing any of it.

Don't think so, stay with me

"C'mon, you know I'll be back soon" You gently scratch the top of his head and he nuzzles into your palm. He tiled his head to the side widening his gaze as best as he could and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked, silently pleading with you.

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes Barnes, that's not fair" You coo while he lets out a whine, huffing and resting his head on his front large paws until his ears perk up with a bright idea.

"For fucks sake Bucky!" You laugh incredulously when he picks up the bag with his teeth, shaking the clothes out and burying himself under them, happy to be surrounded by your scent and finding another way to keep you there.

"What’s going on" Steve walked by the room, wondering why you hadn't come to the jet yet, eyes growing wide when he saw what his best friend was up to "What the hell"

"Oh my god" Sam looked over Steve's shoulder, snorting at the way Bucky was now half asleep while you were still in your tac suit but your bag now nearly torn to bits. You shrugged, deciding to give up, looking at the over grown puppy waiting for a belly rub, giving the two men an apologetic smile.

Bucky snuggled happily on top of your clothes, his nose nudging into your hoodie, before closing his eyes, ears twitching contently while your on the phone with Fury, coming up with a lame excuse as to why you couldn't join.

Some other things I imagine for wolf Bucky:

He's the cutest thing ever. Sam nicknamed him Sirius Black and he loves it.

Loves eating meat. Eats a lot in general.

Fiercely loyal

Likes to go on walks

I'm sorry for this, I have a headache, instead of taking an Advil and sleeping, I'm out here giving into my ridiculousness, I'll see myself out.

#shape shifting bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes werewolf au #bucky barnes werewolf #werewolf bucky barnes #werewolf bucky #wolf bucky #wolf bucky barnes #bucky barnes shape shifter #bucky barnes au #marvel au #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fan fics #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel fluff #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky x you

[capricornlevi]

noise complaints -- choso x reader

college au!choso x reader, RA!choso, secret relationship. wc 2.5k

MDNI, 18+ only. reader has a vagina but no gendered pronouns.

"he's at the door again!"

you hear utahime's shout from the bedroom next to yours but you don't answer, hoping she'll get the message from your pointed silence.

she doesn't.

"come on!" she protests through the paper-thin walls. "please! you're the only one he likes, we never get written up when you answer."

"turning the music down could help!" you shout back, but without much malice. it's 8pm on a friday, hardly unsociable hours, and the speaker isn't nearly as loud as some of the other dorms on your floor. it's not exam season; there's no reason why you need to be singled out for punishment.

plus, the only reason you're not in there with her -- drunkenly singing along to some autogenerated playlist that has 27 likes, sipping 'sangria' that's more like boxed red wine and soda -- is because she's on a date, one she's been looking forward to for some time now, one you helped her get ready for as she rambled anxiously about her plans for the evening.

you don't have it in you to begrudge her.

"fine," you sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand.

two voices cheer victoriously from next door.

"we love you!"

you chuckle to yourself before it gets cut off by a yawn.

tossing your phone onto the bedside table, you stand up, rolling out a knot in your shoulder that you know will only get worse as the evening progresses.

time to go see the RA.

the shy, reserved, yet surprisingly strict RA. the one who has a particular hatred for noise complaints.

he's still knocking at your door; like utahime, he clearly doesn't take silence for an answer. you speed up to answer it before your roommate feels to need to intervene herself.

as you make your way down the hall, you wonder absent-mindedly if you should've changed into something more ... formal. your vest is nearly see-through, the fabric light and flimsy, but you rationalise it away.

it's summer. it's insufferably hot in the dorms, too uncomfortable to wear anything other than the bare minimum.

you're sure he won't mind. he's probably hot as well.

not dwelling on those thoughts any further, you open the door to find what you expected to see -- choso standing there, holding the tablet that the RAs are issued with to log complaints on their floor, chipped black nail polish clearly visible as he tucks the device against his chest.

he's wearing all black - as per usual - but he's swapped his typical hoodie and jeans for a t-shirt and light sweats, looking a little self-conscious as your eyes flicker up and down while taking in the change in outfit.

you grin. it's really endearing.

"hi, choso."

"hi," he replies, a blush staining his cheekbones already. his dark hair is swept back in its usual hairstyle, a few soft strands falling into his eyes before he brushes them out of the way. he gives you a look you're all too familiar with, peering up at you through frustratingly perfect eyelashes, dark brown eyes meeting yours with a forced confidence "you ... you probably know why i'm knocking."

"i can guess," you answer plainly, still smiling at him as he puts in significant effort in keeping his eyes fixed on your face.

he bites his lip, a silver ring catching the light as it shifts. "okay. the same as before, then."

"so you're here about the noise?" you offer innocently, gesturing down to utahime's room.

he looks confused for a moment, thin brows furrowing as he tries to piece together your reasoning.

eventually, he seems to understand what you're getting at. he raises his voice just loud enough that utahime can hear from down the hall.

"yeah, the noise. got a report in a few minutes ago, so --"

"of course," you reply diligently. "i understand."

"uh ... good. so we're clear, then."

he trails off a little awkwardly, and if it weren't for the darkening of his pupils you'd think he was actually discouraged by your responses. you wonder if you've put on too good of a show.

not willing to let that happen, your grin deepens as you lift your hand, take him by the collar and drag him in for a messy kiss, barely letting the door close behind him as you pull him inside.

the awkward, shy version of choso nearly disappears the moment his lips meet yours again; he's voracious, hungry, the cool metal of his piercing hitting off your teeth as he deepens the kiss within moments of touching you.

you're still just as surprised by this side of him, this layer you didn't know he had, the same as you were the first time this happened. you relish every time you get to see it.

from what he's alluded to before, nobody else has the privilege.

"w-wait," you whisper against his lips, kiss-slick and already swollen, "you have to be quiet. she ... it's too early for her to find out."

instead of answering, he fixes his lips to your pulse point, suckling at your neck as he backs you against the wall, your shoulderblades hitting against the cold plaster and raising your skin to goosebumps.

"choso -- choso, i'm not kidding," you protest half-heartedly, the whisper already torn and desperate. "we need to -- we need to get to my room, ok? then we can do whatever --"

before you've even finished the sentence he pulls back, face now fully flushed but not from embarrassment, not from self-consciousness.

"or i can eat you out right here?" he offers quietly, one hand on your waist as the other drifts lower, trailing up your thigh and along the hemline of your skirt. against your better judgment, your hips start to shift, chasing his touch, the sensation you know only his fingers can bring.

just then, the music coming from utahime's room pauses, plunging the apartment into a sudden silence.

choso's hand stills on your thigh; you barely breathe as you listen intently, waiting for utahime to burst through the door and discover you here in the most compromising of positions.

thankfully, it's just her switching the song. seconds later the music starts to play again and you hear her date's voice sing along, blissfully unaware of what's happening just feet away from them both.

taking that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom, you take choso's hand and guide him down the hall, single-minded in your goal.

he lets you, knowing that it will pay off.

once you're safely hidden away in your room, you move in tandem as he backs you up towards your twin bed, his lips only leaving your jawline when he needs to catch his breath.

this is going to be really fun.

before you can even repeat your warning to stay quiet, you're lying flat on your back on the mattress, your already-short skirt hiking up your thighs as you settle against the sheets.

choso grins when he sees your nipples pebble against the thin fabric of your vest. his hands trail up your body, thumbs tracing lazy circles as you wriggle to try and shimmy out of your clothes.

he doesn't rush you, though. from the look on his face, you'd guess he could just play with your tits all evening and be more than satisfied.

but you're not of the same opinion. you need his touch somewhere else, need it to the point of aching, and you tell him as much.

he's not the type to tease with words. he's quiet, deliberate, even right now -- but he doesn't need to say what he wants to do out loud. you know with just a look, the way his tongue plays with his lip piercing, the imprint of his cock through his sweats.

even though you've been in this exact situation before, you can't tear your eyes away from the sight of choso getting on his knees before you, tugging your underwear down your legs and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive inner thighs.

you almost cry out before remembering to cut yourself off. hastily covering for yourself, you start to warn him;

"we need to stay --"

"yeah, quiet. i know," he whispers with a smile, not willing to protest too much given the situation he's in now, the one he's pictured every time he's touched himself this past week, since he met you in the abandoned study closet on the third floor on saturday.

since he fucked you against the wall till tears streamed down your cheeks, until your thighs shook around his trim waist, limbs turned to jelly as he wrung orgasm after orgasm from you.

"promise?" you whisper with a little smile, knowing it won't affect your own answer.

your underwear now tossed to the side, he takes his thumb and index finger and spreads you open, the cool air over your exposed flesh making you gasp, reverent in how he looks at you.

"i'll try," comes his hushed answer, before he dips his head in to taste.

the first slide of his tongue has your breath catching in your throat, spine already arching off the bed as he moves slowly, methodically, savouring your taste before circling back on your clit, dragging the tip of his tongue over the hood.

his grip on your thighs is strong but it needs to be in order for you to stay any bit still; you squirm against him, his nails leaving crescent indentations in your skin as he keeps you steady.

at the first broken cry of his name, he stops immediately.

you let out a groan of protest, lifting your head from the pillow to further voice your grievances, only to be met with a petulant-sounding;

"you said to be quiet."

frustrated at your own words being used against you, you let your head fall back, mulling over how to reply.

utahime's music is still playing. they mightn't hear you, you're not being that loud --

but choso still hasn't picked up where he left off.

you know what he's capable of doing with that tongue, those fingers, so you throw in the towel fairly quickly.

"fine."

"use the back of your hand if you need to," he whispers before pausing, leaning over to pick up something, "or use this."

he tosses your own underwear towards you.

you grab it and throw it aside, rolling your eyes playfully.

"it hasn't come to that yet."

"still," he retorts, lowering himself down again, "it could come in handy."

"we'll - we'll see," you choke out, feeling his tongue part you again, wondering if you will actually end up need ingthat makeshift gag,

he licks and suckles, providing just the right amount of pressure as you start to grind against the wet heat of his mouth.

he knows what you need from him.

"one or two?"

you don't need to ask him to clarify. "two."

"already?"

your hand flies up to cover your mouth, pleasured mewls dying in your throat.

once it passes, you let your hands drop back to your side.

well, you could ...

you could just ...

so you do; you fist your hands in his hair, soft and silky under your touch, and answer.

"already."

you feel one of his hands release from your thighs as he starts to stroke himself, low reverberations of his groans enhancing the sensation of his tongue against you.

then the other hand drifts down your waist, hips, until two fingers prod at your entrance, your wetness coating his fingertips before he can even get inside you.

his hand moves slowly while his mouth nips and suckles, your legs spreading even further to allow him room. 

inch by inch he slips inside, meeting no resistance since you're ore than wet enough for two -- maybe even three --

he curls his fingers and you cry out his name.

he doesn't stop this time, though, too enraptured by the sight of his fingers disappearing through your swollen folds to deny himself anything.

the music next door is drowning out any sound you're making, you know it is. you don't want to stop for a moment.

you can't stop.

he pumps his fingers in and out as your hips roll against him, chasing the friction that you need as much as air right now.

you really think you might die without out.

you feel yourself pulse around him; he feels it as well, the way you contract when he hits that spot against your walls, and suctions his lips around your clit in the way he knows will have you coming for him more than once.

with his lips angled like this, you can feel the piercing as it shifts against you; the cold metal should probably feel jarring but it only adds to the sensitivity, a unique sensation that you now can only associate with him.

it's funny -- you haven't been seeing each other for long, only hooking up when you have the chance to go undetected -- but he already knows your tells, the signs that you're close, so close --

you barely hear it, the sound muffled and quiet by intention, but the feeling of him groaning your name as he licks into you is too much, too much, too intense a feeling for you to bear ....

your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave, washing over every nerve in your body as you spasm around his fingers, your limbs turning to jelly as you lose your grip on his hair, hands fumbling with the bedsheets to try to establish yourself.

it is neverending, an all-consuming sensation that lasts until he pulls his fingers out unceremoniously, aftershocks clenching around nothing.

your teary eyes open as you see what prompted his sudden movement

choso's brows are pinched together desperately, almost panicked, as he fists his cock, hips rocking rhythmically.

"you're gonna make me come ... fuck, fuck --"

with a cut-off moan he grips the base of his cock, coming over your stomach, coming ropes that reach your breasts, his head thrown back as his jaw clenches shut.

the sight is enough to prolong your own orgasm, faint ripples running through you even as choso's pleasure starts to ebb away.

"oh fuck," he groans once his cock stills, his chest rising and falling, his sweat-slick skin glistening as he collects himself. "fuck ... I'm sorry."

"don't be sorry," you grin up at him, having come to a sudden realisation. "from the sound of it ... utahime and her date just closed to front door, so ... looks like we have the place to ourselves."

"we do?" he half-pants, half-laughs. "how ... how long has it been since --"

"too long," you cut him off. "so we need to make up for lost time."

it's his turn to grin again, eyes scanning the mess he's made of your chest with a sense of pride.

"happily."

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #choso #may tries to write

[lazyjellyfish300]

DD part 2

Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

**image is not mine, from a Google search, all credit to respective owners**

Plot- reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home.

Part 1 , Pt 3 1, Part 3 2, Part 4 , Part 5

T/W 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol mentioned, mature language, implied masturbation, sexual fantasies, vomit, age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

Thank you to everyone who expressed interest in this story so much that I decided to change it from a one shot to a series🖤

---------------------

The following day...

You slowly rose from the dead at 2 pm with a hangover from hell, your stomach lopsided, prompting you to bolt to the toilet. After an unpleasant upchuck and rinsing with Listerine, you couldn't help but smile as you looked in the mirror, still shrouded in Miguel's oversized hoodie. You threw your hair in a messy bun and shuffled into the kitchen. You curse when you find out you're all out of bottled water. You pour yourself a tall glass from the tap and try your best to gulp it down without thinking about the weird metallic taste.

Last night's events slowly start coming back into focus. You were so obsessed with what happened with Miguel that you completely forgot it was due to your friends ditching you. You run back in your room, grunting in annoyance when you realize your dumb ass forgot to charge your phone overnight. You wait impatiently for the battery to creep up to 1% so you can turn it back on. Eager to see if Miguel tried to contact you after the encounter, somehow, some way. As your phone loads, your stomach drops in disappointment when you see that you have no notifications from Miguel, which turns to resentment when you realize your so-called friends didn't even bother trying to call or text you either to make sure you at least got home.

You sigh and flop back on the bed. You double check the Uber app and your heart rate increases when you see that you can report a "lost item" to get in contact again.

Noooo remember girl, let him come to you. Do you really wanna be the one that reaches out first when he turned down a kiss from you last night? But wait, he was a gentleman. Maybe he was just trying not to be an ass or give you the wrong idea since you were intoxicated...He literally wiped taco sauce from your mouth and licked it off his finger for fuck's sakes!

How could someone be so goddamn hot, kind, and gentlemanly at the same time? And what brought him to do all those things for you of all people?

You go to the help section of the app and realize that Miguel can't contact you. Since you're the rider, any personal info won't be shared with him besides your pickup and drop off location, unless you reach out about an issue.

Fuck me! You suddenly feel like you're in middle school again trying to talk to a cute guy.

For the love of God, do it!! Worst he can say is no? That's exactly what I'm scared of, dummy!

Oh no, it's ringing!

-----mini time jump backwards to that night-----

After dropping you off, Miguel arrived back to his apartment about 3 am, teeming with want for your soft skin. He laid down in his dark room with the lights off and flashes of you two together entered his mind.

Breathing into each other's mouths as if the heat between you was the only thing keeping each other warm. Marking you with little red and purple bites of love. Him grabbing your jaw with his fingers, while you desperately sputtered his name, not letting you look anywhere else but at him. Gentle sounds of your love ringing off the walls in varying volumes.

He pictured your beautiful face looking up at him while he murmured how beautiful you looked and what a goddess you were.

He imagined spending all night with you just like this, burning memories of your skin into his mind that he’d replay whenever he needed you like a faulty record.

His fists clenched in frustration. All of those fantasies would have came true if he wasn't such a fucking coward tonight.

After you two would have made love, he imagined taking care of you afterwards. Hearing your soft, beautiful voice as you two shared pillow talk while he planted wet kisses on your shoulder. Playing with your hair, sleeping naked together. Maybe letting things get heated in the bathroom one more time before washing each other's bodies afterwards.

Tiredness got the best of him and he drifted off to sleep, imagining you in his arms...

-----back to the following afternoon -----

Conchata O'Hara's heeled boots echoed down the marble hallway to Miguel's apartment, her 6 year old granddaughter, Gabriella in tow. Gabi was an adorable, soft spoken little girl. She was musing to her grandma about her friend Peyton's birthday party as they came up to Miguel's door. Conchata was a striking woman. If you saw her you could tell the lion's share of Miguel's good looks came from her. She could have been a former Miss Universe. She stood at 6'1, a long tan trenchcoat over a black turtle neck, with grey slacks, two chopsticks securing her greying raven hair in a bun as two stray wisps of hair grazed her face in front. Laugh lines adorning the corner of her eyes.

Miguel jerked awake when he heard his doorbell. He forgot to set his alarm for when his mother brought his daughter home from their sleepover. Conchata was always happy to watch her precious granddaughter while Miguel worked. Conchata's brow raised as she realized her son wasn't awake. Finally, Miguel opened the door, Gabi squealing in delight. "Daddy!"

"Hey, bumblebee!" Miguel scooped her up, hugging her tight. It was difficult to be away from her, even if he knew it was only because he needed to provide for them financially. Conchata smiled and walked in. Miguel gave his mom a kiss on the cheek, towering over her despite her height as well.

"Long night, mijo?" She asked in a regal voice.

"Ma.." Miguel sighed. She always treated him like a young boy instead of a grown man.

"I raised you better than this!" She tsked at the sight of dishes in the sink.

"Mama," Miguel said tiredly. "I was working until 3 am, I haven't had a chance to get to those." Conchata looked at him as if she was trying to see through him.

"Did you have a girl over?" Miguel sighed and looked at Gabi.

"Mija, why don't you go play in your room and get your Barbies." Gabi's eyes lit up and she giggled as she ran for her room.

"Ma, please don't talk about that around Gabi..." Miguel said as he started to wash the dishes.

"You just seemed off." Conchata said. "What's going on in your head? I can never read you these days. I worry, you know."

"Maybe I did meet someone, ma."

Conchata's eyes widened and at that moment, Miguel's phone rang.

"Perdóname..Hello?" Miguel walks outside onto his balcony, shutting the sliding door on a bewildered Conchata.

Your voice sunk to the bottom of your stomach when you heard Miguel's attractive voice on the other line.

"Hi, Miguel, it's me, y/n from last night..."

Miguel's face started to turn into a smile. "Hey, it's so good to hear from you. Are you feeling better this morning?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks so much again, I mean, for everything. I just had to tell you that."

"Well, of course. It's my pleasure to do that for you."

There was a long, painful, pregnant pause.

"Is..that all you wanted to tell me?" He asked softly.

"Well...I mean, yeah pretty much you know I just felt bad and..

"Y/n?"

Your heart stops at the sound of your name.

"I enjoyed our time together last night and, if you're open to it, I'd like to get to know you better. Can I take you out sometime?"

You felt your internal organs do a victory dance. "Oh, YEAH, I mean, I'd love that. When would you like to?"

Miguel thought for a moment. "Would Wednesday night work? It's a little strange, I know. My schedule is kind of hectic. But maybe we could grab dinner. Do you like Italian food?"

"I do! Wednesday sounds great!" You say without checking your schedule.

"Wonderful."

You two exchange numbers and make plans to meet Wednesday night. Once you both hang up you're both experiencing a mixture of giddiness, relief and anticipation for your first date.

Wednesday couldn't come soon enough.

----

Thank you for reading! Pt 3 coming soon 🖤

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #SoundCloud

[brownskinlemon]

Deal (d.f.)

pairings: dom/reader

word count: 4,061

summary: You've never experienced the big O, and a night with your best friend Dominic turns into more than you planned

warnings: smutty smut, mentions of smoking, unprotected s3x, cr3ampie, multiple orgasms, some sappy emotions

authors note: this is my first ever story, and I hope you all enjoy :)

!! do not repurpose or repost as your own for any reason on any platform without credit !!

The shuffling of feet was all that could be heard as you and your best friend Dominic paced the grocery store aisles. It was nearly midnight, the store getting ready to close soon. The munchies had taken over earlier in the night, which led you two to an hour's journey around this store, baskets full of junk food in both your hands. 

“Y/N…bro” You turned back to his mouth agape, eyes fixated on a mega-sized Ben n Jerry’s tin. He toyed with his lip between his teeth for a moment, before swinging the door open and obnoxiously tossing it into his already overflowing basket. 

You snorted quietly to yourself, quickly turning back around before you ended up staring at his pink lips for far too long for your own comfort, far too long to be considered platonic admiration.

-

The streets of Naples were empty and dim, headlights dancing across you in the passenger seat of Dominic’s car as you sped down a main road. Your eyes were glued to the moonlight dancing across the thrashing waves across the shore out of your window. 

“So beautiful” He mumbled to himself.

“ I know right?” You responded without looking at him. Your head whipped around to him, surprised to find his brown eyes already fixated on you, making your heart drop suddenly.

He coughed to himself, straightening up in his seat and turning his attention back to the road, his lips once again being caught in between his lips. Those perfect fucking lips.

With his looks he could easily have every girl in Naples on a leash, but chooses not to, you never understood why. You would like to think he had commitment issues, but it seemed to be pure disinterest in dating at all. You had been friends since middle school, and though you had been in so many friends and “relationships”, your friendship stayed the same. As close as you had been, there were lines you wouldn’t dare to cross. These lines became blurry in your mind as of late. His figure, eyes,lips, voice had all been so…enchanting recently. Staying up till late overthinking every little interaction was excruciating to say the least. You’d rather die than let him know a word of it. 

You snuck glances at him as his ring-clad fingers drummed on the steering wheel to whatever song was currently on. His apartment came into view, and he skillfully maneuvered into the parking deck. After he parked, you hopped out, grabbing the 7 bags worth of snacks you had bought earlier.

“You really think we can actually eat all this?” You huffed as you made your way down the hall to his apartment.

“ I know I can, especially that ice cream.” He nodded, a small smirk pulling lightly on his face. 

-

“Ok so out of all of them, who was the best in bed?” Dom quipped, eyes fixated on the rolling tray in front of him on the bed, hands skillfully pearling one of several blunts that night. 

You were both clad in a hoodie and pajamas, sitting on his bed. A fiery orange light danced across the dim room from a lamp, “Who Hurt You?” by Daniel Caesar playing lightly in the background.

“Hm…maybe that one soccer guy. But he did the bare minimum and didn’t even make me cum.”

“Well at least you’re able to get yourself off right? Who needs em anyway.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off quietly, eyes locked on your fiddling hands which had now become the most interesting thing in the world. You could see him stop his actions out of your peripheral vision. 

“Y/N”

“Dom”

“No way you’ve never…finished? Like ever in your 20 years?”

You sighed, eyes squeezing together. “I have not.” 

Tears begin to burn at the brim of your eyes, threatening to fall with each second of embarrassing silence that follows. Sure you had discussed…sex,all bestfriends do, but there were lines you didn’t want to cross. Dom knowing about your lack of ability to orgasm was one of those lines. 

Without looking up at him you jumped up, rushing past him to the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door behind you. You sighed deeply as you leaned on the counter, locking in on your eyes in your reflection  that were reddened, caused partially by both the weed and your now falling tears. It didn’t help that weed always made everything you felt even more intense. 

“Get it together. It’s not that serious.” You repeated like a mantra quietly until a heavy knock interrupted your thoughts. 

“Y/N come out…I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You couldn’t see him but you knew he was doing that thing where he tapped his feet when he got nervous or worried.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, pausing in the silence.

“You didn’t- I mean- you didn’t Dom. Shit’s just embarrassing.”

“There’s no point in being embarrassed. Why would I care if you’re not like a sex god or something. In fact that’s pretty normal for women to have that..blockage you know?”

You chuckled lightly to yourself, amused at the way his version of comforting you. You breathed out loudly, nodding to yourself in the mirror before swinging the door open to find Dominic leaning on the doorway, running right into his chest. 

You were taken off guard as his arms wrapped around you, your tense shoulders relaxing as you embraced him back.

“You ok?”

“Yeah..don’t rub it in.” You said muffled into his chest. 

His arms loosened around you as his tall frame loomed over you. His brown eyes bore into yours from above, rendering you silent. You watched as his eyes snuck a glance at your lips, quickly snapping back up to your eyes.

“Y/N…I-”

Before he could get a word out you moved around him, walking into his room and turning over your shoulder. 

“That blunt and ice cream won’t finish itself Dom!”

You watched him smirk to himself, shaking his head as he made his way back into his room with you 

-

After several blunts and snacks, you two found yourselves wrapped up in blankets on your second movie of the night: The Breakfast Club. 

“This movie is amazing.” You quipped up with a mouth full of ice cream, eyes not leaving the screen. You heard him hum in agreement, eyes sneaking a quick glance at him as he leaned back, shifting his hips underneath his blanket. My god, if I was on that lap I would-

“Y/N” 

“Dom” Your eyes were glued to the screen as you pretended to be completely invested in the film, and not as invested as you were intently ignoring whatever conversation he was about to start. 

“About earlier…you know I’m not good with emotional sappy conversations so..bear with me...” He trailed off, pausing the movie with the remote and forcing you to find another object in the room to fixate on.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry they didn’t..care enough to make sure you were good. I know I clown on you alot but you don’t deserve that shit.”

His hand gently made its way under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You hear me?” His eyes searched yours valiantly.

“Yes.” You breathed out, freezing at how intense his gaze fanned over your features. 

His eyes dropped to where he began to cup your hands gently in his, as your eyes followed. You two were never touchy, and the frequency of physical touch tonight was stoking the already intense fire that was stirring in you for him. 

“Fingers crossed the next man that gets the honor of touching you is caring, and gives your body the respect it deserves. Hm?” 

“Fingers crossed” you said quietly, trying to hide your breath that was now ragged from the little contact. 

You looked up at him, surprised to find his eyes already fixated on you. His teeth caught on his full bottom lip, his chest heaving silently. The lighting in the room, combined with the way his hair fell over his face made your body run warm. The sweet smell of his cologne mixed with weed filled your lungs and made you dizzy with desire from how close you were sitting.

Fuck it. 

“Dom”

“Y/N?”

You leaned over quickly, smashing your lips into his. It took him no time to connect your lips, hands snaking around your waist. A moment later, you pulled away, leaning your forehead against his, eyes filled with desire as they met his.

“What was that for?” He breathed in and out, attempting to catch his breath.

“I…I want to try it…with you.” Your voice faltered as your sentence went on.

“It? What’s it?”

“Sex.”

His eyes danced back and forth between yours searching for any doubt.

Your hands covered your face. “Its okay if you don’t we can go to bed and pretend like this never happened I just-”

You were cut off by his lips smashing into yours again, and he flipped you two over so he was hovering on top of you. His hips grinded into the heat between your legs as they wrapped around him . You whined into the kiss from the friction as he pulled back, his hand placed under your chin. 

“Are you sure you want this? With me I mean?” 

“Yes Dom. Please. I need you.” you whimpered out as you grind your hips up into his to emphasize your point.

A quiet groan fell from his lips. “If you ever…and I mean ever want to stop you tell me okay? I want you too but this is about you. I want you to feel good but I need you to let me know what you need more or less of. Deal?”

You nodded silently, eyes boring into his.

“Words Y/N.”

“Yes- I mean deal” tumbled from your lips that had already begun to darken from his kiss.

He chuckled to himself, diving back in to connect your lips again. His lips danced their way from your mouth, across your jaw, and down your neck, deciding on a particularly sensitive spot to mark. Your breath began to waiver and small whimpers caught in your throat as his mouth left marks across your neck, surely to be a sickening purple in the morning. 

“You sound even prettier than I had imagined.” He whispered near your ear, making your stomach turn in the most amazing way.

As he continued his attack on your neck, his long fingers began to toy with the hem of your hoodie, dipping his hands underneath to run his hands up your stomach. 

“May I?” He asked, referring to your hoodie that had been pushed above your stomach by now.

“You may.” You smiled shyly at him as he gently pushed your hoodie off your body, exposing your baby pink bra to him . He met you in your bareness, leaning back to pull his hoodie over his head. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip at the sight of his chest, the sharpness of his abs that were littered with tattoos had made you clench your legs together in a fever of need.

He leaned back into you, finding his place once again between your legs as his lips kissed across your chest. 

“Arch up for me” He muttered.

You obeyed, arching your back up as he unclipped your bra with his free hand, sliding it off you gently. A gasp from your lips broke the thick silence in the room as his lips gently wrapped around your nipple, his large hand twisting your other nipple gently in his hand. Your hands rushed to loop into his unruly curls. 

He continued his descent down your abdomen, leaving open mouthed kisses on his path until he reached the waistline of your pajamas. He sat up, kissing your forehead as he massaged your hips. 

“Lift up.” He breathed out. Your hips lifted in response as he pulled down your pajamas in one swift motion. He toyed with the hem of your panties, eyes catching onto yours as you stared at him. 

“Remember our deal okay?” His eyebrows raised. 

“Okay.” You responded shakily. Although you were not a virgin, the line you were crossing was enough to leave you in shock. You had reached a point beyond return and there was something about the sheer size of the tent in his pants that did not lend to not being overcome with nervousness. 

He hooked his ring clad fingers into the loop of your panties, pulling them down gently. He sat back on his knees, admiring you completely bare to him, your body running hot from his gaze. 

“Good god you are so beautiful..” He shook his head in disbelief. You looked up at your best friend, and saw everything that love could offer in human form. It was almost comical how whipped he had you from a few touches. He slid down between your legs, flat on his stomach and wrapping his arms around your thighs. 

He peppered open mouth kisses and hickeys between your thighs, getting dangerously close to where you needed him most. He blew a cool stream of air over your clit, causing you to jolt your hips trying to chase some type of sensation, in response he pushes your hips down gently, readjusting his grip on you.

“Relax baby, I got you” He quipped before suddenly wrapping his lips around your center. A silent moan lodged in your throat at the sudden contact. He began to work over you with his tongue, humming in pleasure as your moan finally released from your chest, echoing in his small room. 

Your hands searched the bed wildly for something to hold onto, one of your hands settling deep in his curls while the other gripped tightly on his bicep. You grinded up into his grip, breath labored and laced with ongoing whimpers. Just then, Dominic pulled back from you, earning a whine of frustration from your needy lips.

“Shh…I’m gonna add a finger now, okay?” He asked gently. You nodded fervently, desperate for him to touch you. Your body tensed as his digit slid into you easily thanks to the wetness that had pooled between your legs. He thrusted gently, making your mouth fall open as he repeatedly brushed over your g-spot.

“Can you add a second?” You labored out through heavy breaths.

He silently obliged, sliding a second finger gently inside of you, earning him a gasp and a mantra of his name tumbling from your lips like a broken record. A high pitched sound that he had never heard before left your bruised lips as he returned his mouth to your clit while still pumping his fingers into you. 

Everything felt more intense, and it was making you dizzy. You felt pleasure running through your veins, making your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his bicep. Your hips jolted up and in response Dom wrapped his hands tightly around your thighs, locking you in his grip and keeping you from moving. You felt an unfamiliar coil in your stomach, and it was almost too much for you to handle.

“Dom I-I can’t” You whined out through eyes that were squeezed closed, attempting to loosen his grip on you and run from the intensity that he had built up between your legs. 

“Yes” He peppered in between kisses on your center, his fingers not letting up their pace. “You can. That’s an orgasm baby, I know you can get there for me. Breathe.” 

It was almost like your body was programmed to his words, because just then the coil in your abdomen had snapped. Your vision went white and you could hear nothing but your own pulse in your ears, you were sure you could faintly hear Dom’s voice in the distance. A surge of pure unadulterated pleasure rushed through you, paralyzing you in his grip while rendering you speechless except for the screams of his name that echoed in the tiny room.

As you came down, you slowly opened your eyes to find Dominic staring at you with the goofiest smile one could muster. He looked so innocent as if he wasn’t covered in your juices and hadn’t just performed witchcraft between your legs that were still shaking. 

“Dom, what the fuck.” You heaved out.

“I know right?” He quipped while massaging your hips. He leaned over to kiss your forehead.”Do you still wanna continue? I know that was…a lot, or at least it seemed like it was. I don’t wanna push you too far if not.” Your eyes raked over his frame, nodding enthusiastically.

Your confirmation was all it took for him to remove his pajama pants in one swift movement. He followed by slowly removing his boxers, groaning as his dick sprung free from its confines. Your mouth fell agape. You had always had a guess that he was well endowed, and yes he was, but you never thought that a dick could be..pretty?

“Don’t stare, it makes me nervous.” He mocked with a small chuckle, earning a small exhausted smile from you. He found his place between your legs, his dick rubbing lightly between your wet folds, making you both groan. His free hand dipped between your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay? I never wanna make you feel anything other than good. Deal?”

“Deal” You nodded. He pecked your lips, dropping his head to look at where you two connected between your legs. He massaged his tip lightly between your folds, letting his tip gently slip inside, as you held your breath and his own ran shakily. Your eyes squeezed together and your hands gripped his biceps.

“Breathe, don’t go blue on me baby.” 

You tried to remember how to breathe, but all you could think about was the delicious feeling of him gently stretching you out. His thrusts stayed slow as he practiced getting deeper and deeper until your hips met each other. You arched your chest up until it met his tip as his tip began to massage deeply against your g-spot.

In no time, he had worked up to a decent pace after you gave him the okay, your body running hotter than ever as he worked into you while latching his lips onto your already decorated neck. The room felt like it was spinning in the best way, and the groans he elicited into your neck made you wanna explode. You were ripped out of your trance after he suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Dom what are you-”  Your sentence was interrupted as the feeling of a cold liquid ran up your spine from base to tip. You whined at the sudden temperature change, whimpering as the cold was replaced with his warm mouth that had begun indulging in the ice cream off of your back. 

“Tasted even better off of you than I imagined.” he commented, following his words with immediately slipping back into you completely, snatching your already ragged breath out of your chest for the thousandth time that night. Your nails clawed into the sheets under you, searching for a grip to cope with the rush of pleasure that had overtaken your body. He trailed his hands up your torso and arms, stopping at your hands as he interlinked your fingers with his own, not relenting on his pace inside of you. 

The room was filled with the melody of your collective moans paired with the harsh colliding of your ass into his hips. A thin blanket of sweat covered both your bodies, and once again he had brought you to a point where you were thrashing underneath his touch.

The whispers near your ear were driving you insane, and he began snaking his hand down around you and between your legs, using the wetness there that had pooled to his advantage. His fingers were now circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. That familiar coil tightened again in your lower abdomen, leaving you biting down into the pillow and arching up into his thrusts.

“You think you can be a good girl and give me a second one?” He toyed.

All that left your mouth was a string of desperate whines. 

“I can’t hear you baby…” He trailed off, thrusting particularly deep at the end of his words, leaving your mouth agape.

“I..I can’t…too much”You forced out between moans.

“I think…” He increased his pace between your hips and rubbed deliciously fast around your clit “You can.”

Your eyes squeezed together as he relentlessly worked at the coil that had tightened beyond belief in your abdomen. His lips trailed up your ear, and soon that coil had snapped, making your legs lock and a string of incoherent moans tumble  from your lips as he brought you to your peak for the second time that night. 

“Fucking hell…” He groaned at the sight of you coming undone and the way you were relentlessly clenching down on him. He pumped a few more strokes, pushing one last time into you to a hilt until you felt his warm release pooling your insides.

He suddenly pulled out, making both of you gasp. You were flat on the bed now, eyes fluttering as you felt the bed dip and his footsteps leave the room. You looked over your shoulder, wondering where he had trailed off to with such urgency. You heard the water run in the bathroom and he returned moments later with a warm wet washcloth. 

“You think you can flip onto your back for me?” He asked as he stood above you. 

“Mhm” You begrudgingly obliged. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up duh” He said, shaking his head.

He spread your legs, trailing the washcloth down to your stomach and thighs. He gently brushed it over your center and beyond, earning a whine from you at the sensitivity.

“Shh I know, but you quite literally made a mess. And I hate to be that guy, but you’re gonna have to come pee baby” he cooed, earning a groan from you. He stood up, slipping on his pajamas before lifting you up and placing his oversized hoodie over you, flooding your nose with his scent. He suddenly lifted you up into his arms. You felt him walking out the room, placing you down on the toilet making your feet come in contact with the cold tile.

He leaned up against the counter, looking down at you with a big dopey smile as you waited for your center to stop pulsing so you could pee.

“You’re just gonna, stand there and watch me?” You quipped, raising your eyebrow.

“Yeah unfortunately, for you.” He fake sighed. 

A moment of comfortable silence passed before you broke it suddenly with your thoughts.

“Dom that was…I didn’t know I could…that it could feel like that.” You shook your head in disbelief before continuing. “I thought I was like..broken.”

He smiled softly before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “You did great. And you know, I’d like to think I know a few things.” You snorted in response to his cockyness. 

After you had finished and gotten cleaned up, you stumbled your way back to the bedroom with his help, flopping onto the bed.

He brought the covers over you, tucking you in and sliding up behind you to hold your frame to his chest. 

“Y/N…I love you.” He whispered, in a tone that made you understand that he wasn’t just saying that as your best friend.

“I love you too.” You hummed contently.

“I know this is probably a weird time to ask seeing as you actively have a little of me leaking out of you..but…” His voice ran shaky “Would you…and I understand if not I just wanted..for you to be my girlfriend. 

You turned in his arms, eyes searching for any sign of a joke, to no avail. “Deal.” You smirked at him, knowing he understood. 

“Deal.” He kissed you, smiling into the kiss, before you turned back into his arms. His curls tickled your neck as he feathered tender kisses down your neck before he finally settled in the pillow and fell asleep. 

#dominic fike smut #dominic fike #naples #fanfic #first blog

[the-s1lly-corner]

Thank you sm 😭 you actually did so good! It felt so nice to see my favorite creepy boy with those head canons 🥹🥹 but yes your writing is absolutely amazing!! I can’t wait to keep seeing everything you write!! And I apologize in advance if I ever get too excited and request too much 🥹

Perhaps creepy boy relationship head canons with a fem!reader who attempts to steal their clothes because they miss them?

- 🩶 Anon

Laughing Jack, Eyeless Jack, and Hoodie x fem!reader who steals their clothes because she misses them!

went ahead and threw in some other characters that i think would be silly with this request since you didnt specify :3! was gonna add slenderman but im on the fence about whether or not his clothes are a part of his body.. shrugs!! feels weird not doing masky since im doing hoodie too but shrugs again laughing jack included as you state hes your favorite :3 and WAAAAH im glad you enjoyed the previous request!! and no need to apologize; i get it !! sometimes i get excited too with requesting stuff !! ill let you know if youre being too intense (though i gotta admit i love writing creepypasta stuff, had a longish break between august and now where i hardly wrote for it and i missed writing for the fandom loads TToTT)

EYELESS JACK:

honestly for a moment i was going to say his mask but i genuinely think that would be a deal breaker for him since it kind of acts as a comfort and security thing for him. even if hes not wearing the mask around you, dont take it. now his hoodie or one of his shirts... thats a different story.. would rather you ask him, though, but he does find it a little sweet that its because you missed him.. mind you he thinks so lowly of himself that he might even be a little shocked that you *miss him.. might let you keep on his shirts! might have to wash it though and patch up a hole or two but its nothing major.. though i dont think he would let you keep one of his hoodies, he has way less of those than he does shirts and he kind of needs them to keep warm.. also the hood comes in handy.. for things.. will expect you to return his belongings when asked, will not take any excuses since they are his belongings and he cant really waltz into a store and go shopping

LAUGHING JACK:

okay so this one is a little funny since i do personally hc that his clothes are just a part of his body for the sake of the post lets turn a blind eye.. theres so many options for you.. his shirt (sleeves! long and floppy!) or a spare sweater than hes claimed... hmm.. i think regardless of what piece of clothing you've taken from him he would be thrilled that you miss him THAT much! he rarely goes out, in fact i dont think its often that he goes far from where his music box is.. gotta stay in decent range, you know? but the point still stands... you miss him? i think that actually does wonders for his abandonment issues, since it reassures him that you care about him and think of him when hes away. probably scoops you up in his arms and hugs you, likely wrapping his arms around you like a snake. offers to never let you go, and kind of sticks true to that until you need to tend to your bodily needs

HOODIE:

another victim of jacket thief... a moment of silence for this man losing the thing that literally sparked his name.. okay jokes aside i dont think he would care that much, hes probably hoarded other clothing while staying with you; from hoodies to sweaters. so hes not going to sweat it if you briefly snatch something from him so long as you eventually give it back.. might sign some teasing words at you for missing him, might also prompt a session of you two cuddling.. good luck getting up because hes probably not going to let go.. why would he, you missed him! also might make him try to spend more time with you since every now and then he does have decently long periods of just. being gone doing whatever it is that he does.. probably leaves you his main hoodie and wears a different one when he knows hes about to dip for a while..

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack x you #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you