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vaspider · 2 years

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Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

#long post #uncensored slurs #slurs #homophobic slurs #ronald reagan's grave is a gender neutral toilet #lgbtq #queer #trans #transgender #fag #dyke #lgbt

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numinous-scribe · 2 months

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Siblings by trial and choice

So @noir-renard posted a prompt in Haunting Heroes a little while ago that's had me in a perpetual choke hold ever since.

When the Portal ZAPS Danny, he doesn't just get turned into a half ghost; he gets catapulted halfway across the galaxy. So now he's stuck on an alien ship, trying to deal with new powers, and desperately searching for a way home.

And my immediate thought was "How can I make this about Starfire?", from which everything spiraled.

[Click the pictures for better quality!]

Having assumed that the portal wasn't even supposed to be functional, Danny had absolutely no basis for anything that was happening to him. Not his new look or powers, not for wherever he was, and certainly not for the predicament of where he landed-- A ship he would later come to know as belonging to the slavers known as the Gordanians.

For all Danny knew, he certainly wasn't human anymore, and he might not have even been in the same dimension either; while Earth had been seeing more and more interactions with aliens, he'd never seen any quiet like these, and his parents had said that the portal was designed to view a whole other world.

And that was terrifying! He was Danny Fenton, just fourteen, and so far out of his depth it wasn't even funny. If it weren't for Koriand'r then Danny didn't know how he would have kept it all together.

As it were, Kor'i had already been enslaved for four years by this point. She knew what it was like to suddenly be cut off from everything she'd ever known, and the torment that was awaiting this strange boy that had appeared in a flash of green light. So even though she had nothing to give, Kor'i stuck by Danny's side.

Together, for the next two years, they fed each other hope.

Naturally, returning to Earth was a big ordeal for Danny, and by proxy for Kor'i as well. Over the two years they spent enduring harsh labor and torture from both their Gordanian captors and the Psions, Danny had confided in all sorts of stories about his home world and vice versa Kor'i about Tamaran. After confirming that he hadn't been transported to another reality, and that this was his Earth, Danny had been so excited to return home and to introduce Kor'i to his friends and family.

But while Earth was still the same, home... was not.

His parents were in jail; not only for their unethical and code violating lab, but because they were so neglectful to the point that minors were able to get into the lab unsupervised and one of them— Danny —was able to access their faulty machine and, presumably, died.

Jazz got picked up by the state, but quickly managed to get herself emancipated and now lived in some other state attending college.

The Manson's moved. Sam was a wreck and not coping well at all; her parents were considering having her committed to an institution for a bit to help her last anyone had heard.

The Foley's couldn't afford to move, so Tucker had to carry on with life as well as he could. He's quiet now, not as verbose and shameless as before, more of a hermit than anything.

And since he's been presumed dead, and can't figure out how to disprove that, honestly, Danny doesn't know how to pick back up where he left off. He can't. Because everything, including him, has changed as well.

But, like she's always done since the moment they met, Kor'i was there for him. And now they have a new family in the Teen Titans as well.

Bonus:

Close ups of Phantom and Starfire. Danny's suit design is a mixture of some of his original concept art and @the-stove-is-on-fire's designs :)

#scribe's work #tt!danny&starfire au #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc art #dcxdp #dcxdp crossover #dcxdp art #long post

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pathologicalreid · 2 months

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sense memory | S.R.

After eight months, you and Spencer reunite after he was in prison and you were in WITSEC.

who? spencer reid x hotchner!reader category: flangst content warnings: general cm violence, peter lewis, prison reid, cat adams word count: 2.64k a/n: i have no idea if i like this or not. it might be too cheesy. but i like cheese.

Second floor, apartment 23.

You leaned against the wall and slid down until you were sat on the ground. You left your bag draped over your shoulder, holding the strap tightly.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while, sweetie,” someone said, causing your head to snap up. “Here to see him?” Spencer’s elderly neighbor asked as she passed, carrying a grocery bag in her hand from the market down the street.

Nodding, you smiled softly at her, “I was on a trip. I’m just waiting for him to come home.”

She hummed and kept walking to her door, apartment 24. “He went on a trip too, huh.”

Waving halfheartedly as she disappeared into her apartment, you leaned your head against the wall. Yeah, you went on a trip – a trip to witness protection, and Spencer went to prison.

Spencer went to prison. The words still felt foreign to you, you hadn’t heard them until two weeks ago after Peter Lewis died. Since he didn’t know where you were, he sent letters to your old address, and they were forwarded to the marshal assigned to protect you. When you left the program, you got the letters. 178 letters.

Some of them were several pages long, some of them were as simple as an I love you or an I miss you, and some of them had doodles, usually equations.

You wondered if he’d gotten your mail yet. The letters and pictures you’d collected for your marshal to send to him once you were out of WITSEC. You weren’t even sure if he’d want to see you, but your dad encouraged you to try anyway.

You had left in October, just after his birthday, and now it was May.

After being separated from your dad and Jack for so long, you went to stay with them for a week, but you knew you wanted to return to the district. You wanted to see Spencer, for closure if for nothing else. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, JJ,” you heard him say from the first floor, and panic washed over you. The nerves of seeing him again had you wondering whether or not you could survive a jump out of the second-story window.

But the hallway windows didn’t open, you were left panicking, and then there he was.

You shouldn’t be here; you didn’t know what to say to him. The first person from your past should’ve been someone else. You could’ve called JJ or Penelope.

You saw him before he saw you, he was too busy digging in his bag for his keys. Pulling yourself up to your feet, you stood up and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans.

When he looked up and saw you, his expression went from confusion to disbelief to shock. Not once did he look happy, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he, like you, had been finding it hard to be happy lately.

Your chest ached as he walked past you and put his key in the lock. Spencer opened the door, and you held your breath as he held the door open, and you stepped inside of the apartment.

For months, you had imagined this moment in your mind, wondering what you would say when you finally got to see him again. He set his keys down on the entryway table before he turned around and faced you.

Familiar honey-colored irises studied you as if he was comparing the last time he had seen you to now.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were imposing on him.

Slowly, you walked backward out of the still-open door, resorting to the idea of never seeing him again. Until he spoke, “Please don’t leave me again.” His voice was soft, timid in a way you had never heard before.

You spun around and your lips parted in surprise. Tentatively, you stepped back toward him before you were right in front of him, inches apart, “I won’t.” It was a promise.

You weren’t sure who reached for who first, but the next moment your arms were slung around his neck and Spencer’s were around your torso, holding you so tightly that your feet lifted off the ground.

He’d bowed his head so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer that had been answered.

Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, “I’m right here, Spence. I’m right here.” He was the same, and yet entirely different. Maybe more muscular, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You opened your mouth to speak again, to tell him that you would never leave him again, not as long as he didn’t want you to.

Everything had changed in the past eight months; you knew you couldn’t make him that promise. That I’ll never leave you promise. It wasn’t real.

But Spencer was real. He was real and he was clutching you the way you were clutching you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that you might bruise. “I got your letters,” you whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

You felt tears seep through your clothes as you took a deep breath and gently pried yourself away from him. “222 days,” he told you matter-of-factly. “I haven’t seen you in 222 days because you were in witness protection and you’re apologizing to me.”

“Of course, I’m apologizing to you. God, I left the program, and my marshal was like ‘Oh, by the way, here are hundreds of letters from your friends and your boyfriend wrote to you while you were gone. And just so you know, your boyfriend was in federal prison for the last three months.’” You took a few deep, uneven breaths. “What am I supposed to do with that, Spencer? Stop looking at me like that!”

He was smiling at you, his eyes were still watery, but he was giving you a doting smile even so, “I missed you.”

You dropped to a crouch at his words, and he followed you down. Those were the only words you had needed to hear over the last eight months. Meekly, you looked up at him, kneeling in front of you. When you left, Spencer had seemed like he was on top of the world, his mom had been accepted in that clinical trial, and the two of you had been talking more and more about your future. Now he seemed… heavier. A more burdened person. “I missed you so much,” you cried.

Reaching over to you, Spencer gently wiped the tears from your face before pulling you close to him, “You look as beautiful as you did the day I lost you.”

The two of you toppled over as a result of focusing on holding each other instead of balancing. He laid back on the floor, holding you close to him. You looked up, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You never lost me. You could never lose me. I always knew I’d come back; I always knew you’d get Scratch.”

“I didn’t, though,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

You hummed, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your palm. “We’re here now, doesn’t that count for anything?”

Spencer pushed up so that he was being supported by his elbows, “That counts for everything.” He studied your face, “Where did that scar come from? It’s new,” he said, his voice still quiet, like you were an animal, and he was trying not to scare you away.

“Oh,” you murmured, “bashed my head on a door. Only me, right?” You brushed him off before clambering to your feet. What were you supposed to do now? Ask him if he wanted to talk? You used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe your nose. God, he had called you beautiful with snot running down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, staring at the floor. “I know, I know you’re going to say that I don’t have anything to apologize for, but I’m apologizing anyway. I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry that Morgan, my dad, and I all left within the same few months.”

He shook his head, “If you hadn’t gone, you’d most likely be dead now. I’d rather miss you for eight months than grieve you for a lifetime.”

You stepped away from him until you backed into the couch, “I thought about calling you. I had no idea that I wouldn’t have been able to. I just thought that-“

And just like that, he was kissing you. It was inevitable, just a question of who would make the first move. A small, shocked noise bubbled in your throat before you leaned into the kiss. It was gentle, tentative even. You gripped the lapels of his jacket as if he’d fade away, but you kissed him gently until he pulled away. “You showing up is the best thing to happen to me all year,” he murmured, sweeping your hair behind your ears. “You remain the most important person in my life.”

“Second most important,” you corrected. “How’s your mom?” Some of the information in his letters didn’t seem overly optimistic, mentioning him bringing her home to stay with him and a medication that he was getting in Mexico.

Spencer gave you a tight-lipped smile, “She’s good, I just went to see her with JJ, actually. She’s staying at a home in the district now.”

You smiled, “That’s good, keeping her close will be good for the both of you, I think.” Spencer reached around your body and pulled at your jacket, “What are you doing?”

“Taking your coat off in an attempt to coax you into staying,” he answered candidly.

Humming, you allowed him to pull the coat off of you, watching intently as he hung it on the coat rack. “Spence?” His name still felt foreign in your mouth as you moved to sit down on the couch.

He looked at you once he finished hanging his own coat, “Yeah?” Sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. A calculated decision, giving you space, but not sitting in a different chair.

“We should talk about it,” you responded, swallowing thickly. “All of it. Everything,” you continued. Millburn. Cat. Mr. Scratch.

Spencer went first, talking to you intently about what happened in that hotel room in Mexico. When he told you what Lindsay had done, you had to swallow your anger. Every once in a while, he’d trip over his words, and you encouraged him to take a break. You laid down on the couch and Spencer nestled in right next to you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and enabling you to play with his hair.

Eventually, he told you about Scratch’s takedown. How Luke had watched him dangle from the ledge of that building before he fell to his death.

You sniffled at the end of his story, “I’ll have to thank Luke next time I see him.” You said, closing your eyes and reveling in your sense memory. The smell of his shampoo – tea tree – and the smell of his apartment – stale coffee and old books.

“Where were you?” He whispered, reaching up and skimming the scar on your forehead with his fingertips.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to find his brown ones watching you. “Minnesota,” You whispered, “St. Paul.” Taking a deep breath, you continued, “Then Sacramento, for a while.”

His brows furrowed, “Why did you leave St. Paul?”

You hesitated, afraid to speak about the event. One of the worst things to have ever happened to you, right on up there with the death of your mother. “My uh…” you cleared your throat, “my location was compromised.”

“Does it have anything to do with the scar?” The one you had lied to him about hours ago.

Shutting your eyes, you nodded almost imperceptibly, “It has everything to do with the scar.”

You could see him starting to put a story together on his own, there was a scar on your face that hadn’t been there last year. A scratch. “What happened?”

The memory was there, you wanted to bury it, but it would stick with you forever. The scar on your forehead would fade, but the scar on your soul was permanent. “I did it, I put the scar there,” you admitted. “I don’t know how he found me,” you whispered, that same feeling of defeat rising in your chest.

You were lucky that there was no one else in the house for you to hurt because if Peter Lewis had turned you into a murderer, it might’ve pushed you over the metaphorical edge. As you spoke to Spencer, you told him as much. You were in a bad place while you were in WITSEC.

The two of you remained curled up together in a mess of tears and limbs and fistfuls of shirts and the overwhelming fear of being separated. Looking at him simultaneously broke your heart and put it back together again. “Sacramento was nice, but I missed the East Coast,” you whispered.

“What about your dad?” Spencer asked softly. Part of you wondered if he wanted to go to sleep, it was dark outside now, but you couldn’t be bothered to check the time.

Nodding, you sniffled, “he’s in Philadelphia with Jack, has been the whole time. That’s where I’ve been, with them.”

Spencer lifted his head to look at you, “Where are you staying tonight?”

Sighing, you shifted on the couch, “In a hotel, I’m apartment hunting tomorrow.”

“No,” he said simply, a frown forming on his face.

You laughed lightly, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

He shook his head, “I mean don’t go apartment hunting tomorrow, stay here with me. Stay here tonight, too.” He said, voice bordering on pleading.

“Spencer, we were together for almost six years and never moved in together,” you told him, arching one brow in suspicion. You had talked about it, it just never seemed to happen.

He sat up fully, “I’m tired of making excuses about breaking leases and travel times, Y/N. There’s not enough time in life to keep avoiding it,” he gestured wildly with his hands as his voice slowly rose.

You tried to wrap your head around the idea, “I just want to make sure you’ve thought this through before making a decision this big.” Folding your hands in your lap, you noticed the first real change in him. This was impulsive.

“I spent three months in prison thinking about you!” He said loudly, “Sometimes that was the only thing that kept me going.” That was quieter like he realized how loud he was actually being. “I knew there was my mom, I knew there was the team, but seeing you again… that kept me going.” He studied your face and based on the emotions you were feeling you could only imagine what your expression was, “Is it me? Is it everything I told you that I did? The poison? Cat? Do you not love me anymore?”

Your breath hitched, “I love you. Of course, I still love you.” Finally, you saw it. He was different, but at the same time, he was still the boy who hid his feelings from you – afraid of upsetting your father. The two of you had a long way to go before you could be together in way you used to be, and maybe things would never be the same.

His shoulders slouched forward in relief, “then move in with me.”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder, “okay.” You took his hand in yours, expertly intertwining your fingers as if no time had passed. “Okay,” you whispered. It certainly didn’t hurt to try.

“And for the record,” he murmured, “I love you too.”

please remember to reblog, like, and/or commend if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

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phoward89 · 3 months

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Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 1:

When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.

When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.

“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute.

Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”

His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you.

Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”

“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled.

Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.

“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.

Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”

“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard.

Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”

His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.

“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”

“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”

What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.

You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning.

Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”

“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word.

Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life.

“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”

You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?

Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.

Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours.

So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.

No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.

It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.

He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.

That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.

Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12.

Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him.

“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.

“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.

“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband.

“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.

“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.”

All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go.

She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).

Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did.

“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”

“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.

Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.

You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you.

You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.

But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.

It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.

Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.

Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.

Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.

Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.

“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.

“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.

“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.

It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.

Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.

He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.

Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”

Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”

“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again.

“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”

If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.

Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”

You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”

“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy.

“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker.

“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”

“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”

Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.

“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed.

You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.

“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.

“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.

“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”

You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table.

Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”

“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.

If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops,

@bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,

@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur

@squidscottjeans

#coriolanus snow #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #manipulative!coriolanus snow x reader #head gamemaker! coriolanus snow x reader #head gamemaker! coriolanus snow #tom blyth #thg #the hunger games x reader

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ew-selfish-art · 10 months

Text

Dp x Dc AU: Dani has a too many break-ups for Danny’s heart to handle as an older brother- So he gives her a criteria that her next boyfriend needs to fit for Danny to approve of their relationship.

Dani was really excited about her new boyfriend. He was witty, and charming, knew how to sword fight and was absolutely stunning. He loved his family, was passionate about animals and social justice causes, and he was an artist! She had a thing for green eyes, and hey, he was actually super chill about them having flexible schedules to see each other (she had vigilante shit to do that she couldn’t explain)! It’s been going on for a few months and she’s honestly ready for him to meet Danny & Jazz but...

The last time she was home it was for a broken heart and Danny was beside himself with worry over her. He made the guys recently deceased ancestors come forward to speak on his behalf and it was Mortifying- Danny was ready to throw down. And Dani had to admit, it was super sweet that her big brother cared so much. He’d happily given a shovel talk to each of her partners when she brought them home and he’d happily tried to bond with them and integrate into their lives. Danny always allowed her to make mistakes but respected her choices to only ever ask two questions when a new partner came into the picture: Do they make you happy? Do they treat you well?

This last time he made a simple request, just could they please fit this one criteria?

The thought comes to her unfortunately when she’s making out with her perfect match, her soul mate, this beautifully stabby man Damian Wayne, that she should bring up the deal breaker. Her brother gave her literally one request for her next partner, and by the ancients she didn’t want to disappoint Danny.

Pulling away from her boyfriends kiss for just a moment, Dani quickly asks “Sorry, Sorry, it’s just...Have you ever died before?”

Damian’s look of confusion and then concern grew on his normally collected face, which told her more than enough.

“Okay great!” And she leaned back in, only to realize that he’s pulled back.

“Would... Would you care to explain why you just asked me that?” Damian was doing his best to not jump to conclusions.

“Sorry, I just got in my head a bit about how you’re like, the light of my life and I want you to meet my family and then my brain wandered, before you did that thing with your teeth, to the fact that my brother kind of requested... um, well, he just asked that my next partner be, uh, don’t freak out if this sounds weird, but uh, be dead.”

“He...He wants your partner to be dead.”

“Well, Dead adjacent is perfectly normal in my family! It’s not like a whole thing! You’ve died before, so he’ll absolutely love you! And he’ll love you even more because you love me!” She smiles as brilliantly as the stars.

Damian isn’t sure for a second, but eventually asks: “Your family is ‘dead adjacent’ and you want me to meet them?” to which she happily confirms.

“Do you... Wish to know how I-” Damian begins but she cuts him off “No! Never, I would never ask that of you. He won’t ask either! He actually has a better vision for these things so it probably won’t even come up! How does next Tuesday work?”

“That should be fine, however, well...On the subject of family expectations ... Is it even possible that you might be a vigilante?” Damian’s worries melt away when his girlfriend smiles and lunges forward to kiss him.

Families could have such weird expectations, you know?

#Dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dani phantom #damian wayne #serious chaos #lmao dannys actual words were 'could you please just date someone i can relate to for once?'#dani interpreted that as meaning dead/undead #she's honestly not wrong for thinking that tho cause he's only ever tried to set her up on blind dates with other ghosts #Danny is a good big brother to her and i believe this to my dying breath #damian is so sure that shes a vigilante but has never dared to cross that line and ask #damian is like 'she can knock me on my ass she is clearly the perfect woman'

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letssimptogether · 10 months

Text

Slashers x Pregnant! Reader

✨ reader almost gets hurt by a victim/victim uses reader as leverage — requested by anon ✨

includes: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, and Poly! Ghostface

warnings: mentions or possible descriptions of (slight!) violence, cursing

a/n: i might use some manga as lil cover pictures when writing multiple slashers/idk what picture to use idk i think they’re cute teehee😅🤭 anyways, sorry for the wait—i hope you all enjoy! readers pronouns are gender neutral💜💜

💜Bo Sinclair

You just finished doing the dishes, when you heard a knock at the door. Unsure it was one of the boys, you scooted from your comfy couch spot and opened the door.

To your surprise, it was not one of the boys—and much to the unexpected visitor's surprise, someone opened the damned door.

“Please, you have to help me.” The man begged in front of you, big sloppy tears pouring from his eyes.

You paused and looked at the male in front of you before raising a brow. You knew what was up, but you never had to deal with the victims before, especially now that you’re over a month pregnant—Bo really doesn’t want you talking or handling them.

“They’re going to get me,” He choke and sobbed, “I need your help.”

Unsure of what to do, you stood there for a few seconds longer, thinking of what the safest option was, but also one that wouldn’t put the boys in danger.

Over the surprise visitor's shoulder, you could see Bo approaching, and he was just a few buildings away—while staring at Bo, and trying to decide your option, the visitor turned around to catch what you were looking at and met Bo’s now rage-filled demeanor.

Quickly, he shoved you to the floor, hopping over you; only stepping on your arm. The minute Bo reached you, he gently helped you up and cupped your cheek. He then pressed a small kiss to your nose and asked you to go to your guy’s shared bedroom.

You could hear each sloshing stabbing sound and the man’s blood-curdling screams almost all night before Bo accompanied you in bed.

🩷Vincent Sinclair

You happily made your way towards the Wax Museum, a plate of food in your hand for your beloved since you know Vincent most likely hasn’t eaten yet.

Once you got to the entrance of the museum, much to your startle, the door was already open. And to make matters worse, you hear two voices giggling.

You stood still beside the entrance, your free hand holding where your womb is, pausing to think of your best option for safety for you and the growing baby. Vincent must've known of their presence, so it's only a matter of time now. Once their whispering died down, you snuck inside the building, peeking around each corner and listening to make sure nobody could see or hear you. You turned a corner too quick in your need to get to Vincent, that you bumped your hip on a nearby table, almost causing you to drop your plate. "Shit," You silently muttered, panicking slightly from your slight bump. "What was that?" A man asked just faint enough for you to hear, causing your panic to rise more. "Maybe it's the dog from earlier?" A woman responded questioningly. As if on cue, Vincent sneaks around the corner and places a comforting hand on your shoulder, while also signaling you to shush before pointing in the direction of where the intruders. He quickly puts his hand over his mask's mouth, then presses it softly to where your baby bump's growing like a little kiss. And from there, he went to take care of the two.

💜Lester Sinclair

You were riding in the truck with Lester, as he went to run errands when a stranger waved you guys down alongside the road.

“Hey! Hi—sorry to bother you guys,” The stranger stumbled nervously, “Something happened and we really need to get to our friends, would one of us be able to catch a ride to the nearest town?”

You and Lester exchanged unsure glances, but Lester agreed nonetheless. You scooted to the middle seat closer Lester, giving him one last worried glance before patting the seat for the stranger.

The three of you rode in an uncomfortable silence, occasionally making some small talk about the small town of Ambrose, and how the two of you like it.

“Ain’t too bad,” Lester spoke up, “Pretty quiet. Everyone minds their own business for the most part.”

The strangers phone started to ring, and they quickly apologized and answered, stiffening in statue after what seemed 10 seconds. They nervously side eyed Lester and you a few times, while giving verbal acknowledgments over the phone.

“Excuse me—can you stop the car?” They asked, feigning a polite exterior, their jaw quivering and the right hand upon the door handle shook nervously.

“Mhm,” Lester slowed to a stop, but before the old beat up truck could even get to a halt, the stranger opened the door, and grabbed you, pulling the both of you out of the car, leaving only Lester in the drivers seat.

“Stay back, freak! Or—or else!” The stranger shoved you to the ground, then pointing a finger to Lester, to prove a point to him that they’re not above violence.

You tried to crawl away, but the stranger had other plans.

“Get back here, bitch,” The strangers focus was too engrossed into you, they didn’t notice Lester hop out of the truck, “I heard what you did to my friends!”

The stranger went to reach for you, but was stopped by Lester pulling them back and punching perpetrator in the throat.

“Hell is wrong with you hitting a pregnant person,” Lester’s punches did not ease up until the strangers face looked like a bloody pulp.

Once he finished, he walked over to where you stood yourself up, and pulled you in for a hug, and pressed a kiss to your forehead and knelt down to press a kiss to your tummy.

“Y’okay, sugar?” He grasped your hand, and walked you to the truck and helped you sit down comfortably.

🩷Thomas Hewitt

You and Luda sat in the kitchen knitting things for the baby that’s on the way.

“Y/N, would you be a dear and check on the pie?” Luda politely inquired.

“Of course!” You opened the oven to check, but the pie wasn’t fully done, so you reset the timer for about 5 minutes.

You took your seat back, and continued knitting your baby blanket. Luda stood up, and started cleaning the counters and washing the dishes used to make the cherry pie.

Faint scrambling and screaming could be heard coming from the basement, but you just turned on the small radio and continuing knitting zigzags into the blankets design.

Until someone managed to scramble their way to the first floor, scrambling through the living room, and then the kitchen.

“You two! Hey! You have to help me!” The man pleaded, “He’s trying to kill me down there!”

The man pointed down in the basement, and Luda looked at him unimpressed. She was sneaking her way to find something to hit the person with without being detected, but the man grabbed onto your hand and tried pulling you with him.

“Please! You have to listen to me; he’s going to kill me—then he’s going to kill you too!” He sobbed, ripping you from your chair at the small table.

“I—” You didn’t get a chance to respond or call for help before the man pulled you outside and down the wooden steps.

“Tommy!” You hear Luda Mae call out, “They’re trying to take Y/N!”

About two minutes later, Thomas ran through the door, his chainsaw rumbling with a seething rage. Within a minute, your captor was mowed down by Thomas, who then dropped the (now off) chainsaw, and spun you in the air with his embrace, pressing his forehead to yours.

That night, Thomas made you a warm bath and you enjoyed a cool cup of sweet tea while you got to munch on the pie you and Luda made from earlier.

💜Brahms Heelshire

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and you were waiting for Malcolm to bring groceries to the house for you and Brahms—who was hiding upstairs, waiting for your okay to come out.

You sat in the living room, sipping on your favorite hot beverage while rereading a book you started, but haven’t finished.

Faint knocking could be heard from the front door, so you placed your book and drink down, and peeled through the door.

Malcom finally arrived; which means Brahms can come out soon!

“Afternoon, Malcolm!” You gave a small smile with your greeting, which dropped when you saw the man who delivers Brahms and your groceries arrived empty handed.

“Malcolm wh—” You were cut off by his quick ramblings.

“Y/N, you have to get out of here,” He quickly blurted out, “Brahms is alive; he-he’s been living in the walls!”

Mentally, you rolled your eyes. You knew this, obviously—he is your partner after all.

“What do you mean?” You faked concern, even though you had a feeling you knew how this would end.

The grocery boy would enter, prohibited to leave; his fate sealed past the front door.

“Brahms—I SAW him, Y/N.” He huffed, pacing in a nervous circle.

“I think you’re just seeing things, Malcolm. I live here, don’t you think I’d know if he’s here? Wouldn’t I have seen or heard him?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow, trying your best to gaslight him into leaving you and Brahms alone.

He grasped your hand, “If you refuse to believe it, I have no choice. We’re getting out of here and somewhere safe.”

Little did he know, Brahms was watching the whole interaction. And boy is he pissed.

He snuck out through one of the walls, and approached Malcolm from behind.

“Y/N,” He whined, walking towards where Malcom had a grip on your wrist, “Don’t go.”

“Get him Brahms!” You cried, ripping your arm away from Malcolm and backing away.

Brahms quickly gripped Malcolm’s neck, squeezing so hard his poor face turned a blueish purple from the lack of oxygen due to Brahms’ rage.

As soon as Malcom’s body felt limp, Brahms ran towards your slightly nervous form, nuzzling his masked face into your neck, whimpering softly while rubbing your belly.

🩷Poly! Ghostface

You laid sprawled out upon the bed that the three of you shared, watching nostalgic horror movies. Your phone wasn’t too far from your reach due to the boys needing a ride later.

As if on cue, said device started ringing with Stu’s ringtone.

“Hey, babe!” You perked up, “You need me to come scoop you guys up?”

“Mhm-ow!” The sound of slapping could be heard on your end, and Stu groaned over the phone.

“Hi cutie,” Billy snatched the phone from Stu, “Seems nobody’s here. Can you come get us now?”

“Absolutely!” You beamed before hanging up, running to your car, and starting it.

Once you got to the location they sent you, you pulled into the driveway, turned your lights off, and parked the car.

With few lights lit in the house, you could only make out one figure running around in the dark rather than two. Nonetheless, you brushed it off due to how dim the house was, and you turned your music back up, rubbing your hand over the slight bump.

The figure snuck out of the house, and knocked on the window of the car.

“Are you their ride, bitch?” She sneered, “I overheard those fuck-faces on the phone talking about a ride.”

You tried to lock the doors, which you left unlocked for the boys, but the assailant was faster to open the door. She tried to rip you out of the car as you covered yourself up for defense, both not realizing the seatbelt was on.

“Billy!” You screamed out, “Stu, help please!”

The stranger retracted their fist to hit you, but was pulled back by Billy’s grip, before he plunged a knife into her. She glared at you as she tried to hit Stu who blocked her path, gladly taking a turn stabbing her in the ribs.

They dropped her, and both huddled around you, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheek while their hands hold your baby bump.

#slashers x reader #slashers x pregnant reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #poly ghostface x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #x pregnant reader

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tarjapearce · 10 months

Text

Bad Teachings

College Professor AU! Miguel O'Hara x reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Smut (I tried my best, I swear ;w;) Mildly dubious-con. Age gap implied

Hope you like 🥹✨

The last semester felt impossibly harder, nerve wrecking and it was as usual chipping away the little social life you had. Not that you had many friends really, mostly of the people you hung out with, were people that always ended either paired with you or gathered in group works.

Sure you were invited to parties here and there, but nothing too concrete.

But right now, none of it mattered, as you sat before your teacher, Peter B. Parker, at the verge of tears.

"Look, I know it seems like you'll fail, but you still have a chance." He was packing up his things and then looked your way. " I know you care for the other classes, but this one is also important. I just can't help you out this time."

"It was just one assignment! Mr. Parker. One! I had none to drive me out to that place."

"What about your friends?"

"Just... Please?, This is my last class, I can't afford another semester here."

Peter was one of the few lax teachers out there that would help out here and there when he was able to. One of your favorites actually, contrary to what people said, he was a good teacher.

"I know, I know, kid. Just let me see what I can do ok? Im not promising anything, but I can try. Mr. O'Hara isn't that bad."

You groaned hopelessly.

"God, Im so dead"

"He's not that bad. He's all bark and no bite, I'm telling you"

"Not to question your decisions, Mr. Parker but from all the teachers you could've picked, why Mr. O'Hara?"

"Not up to me kid, administration's doing. Besides, I'll be gone just a couple of weeks. You'll do fine. I'll speak to him, okay?"

You just nodded, hope hanging on a thread.

-------

You were fucked . In fact, you could already picture your parents' mortified expression upon the news and the student loan could only stretch up so far . Miguel O'Hara was... brutal.

He took no shit from anyone, he had 'zero chill' or so you had heard among the other students that barely passed with him. However, you were learning what you needed and wanted to learn. He was demanding, but a great teacher.

"He's hot." One of your classmates admitted as you were gathered in study groups to do an assignment due in a couple of hours.

"I heard he's married."

"No, he's not. No kids, nothing."

"I heard his daughter died."

"He doesn't like talking about that, Jen."

You subtly glanced at him, so ever stoic, frowning and serious, checking and grading assignments like nothing. He was intimidating overall. Everyone behaved and actually studied when he teached.

Class ended shortly after you finished the study group. However you waited a bit longer when everyone had been out to submit your group's part. And also, probably have a chance to ask about your class status.

The first thing you couldn't help but notice was how snug the button t-shirt was on him, your nose detected a tingle of his cologne, His hair was long yet well kept and silky looking. Hell, he probably had a better hair routine than you. His hands movements were smooth and swift, as if they had memorized a pattern. He stopped and looked up to you. For being a man on his early forties he looked younger.

A chill ran down your spine.

"Leave it there." He went back to scribbling notes and you obeyed.

"Mr. O'Hara?"

"Hm?"

You sighed quietly, fearful he might sense your fear.

"Sorry to bother you, Um... I was wondering if-" you swallowed as he looked back at you with a slight frown in his face

"If Mr. Parker left any extra work for me?"

His brow raised in confusion

"I haven't seen Mr. Parker in months, niña. I was just called two days ago to cover up his spot."

Shit.

"R-Right. Uh, I just asked since he said he would-"

"Help you out? Yeah, that's not happening."

"I know it's just another day for you when students come here and cry-"

"You're not crying, so that's a first."

Your cheeks burned a little at his odd praising, but also you were embarrassed overall. Your favorite teacher had definitely forgot about you.

"Just... hear me out. This is my last class, my last semester's weeks And I truly cannot afford to repeat the class."

"And that is my problem because?"

Your lips tightened and soon your eyes turned glossy, but still you were determined to see it through.

"It's just 5 points I need to keep my score and have my record approved."

"The class ain't over yet. Better keep it up."

"Mr. O'Hara, pl-"

"No."

"I will buy you empanadas?" He snorted

"See you next semester, kid. Close the door when you're out."

His no was pretty much definitive. Sighing you marched away from the classroom and closed the door. You didn't cry. That was something.

----

The following days you spent holed up in the library, roomie to loud and messy to be around as you prepared for the pre evaluation for the finals, occasionally you caught a glimpse of Miguel O'Hara, working as usual in his favorite corner, un bothered.

What truly was pissing you is that some of your teammates hadn't submitted their part of the job, wich was due tomorrow. The whole report was half done and still it was alot left to do. You were trying. And just when you felt anxiety began worming it's way in you, the seat across you was dragged open and no other than Mr. Miguel O'Hara sat before you.

He looked at you with a blank yet curious gaze.

"You look like you're about to have a nervous wreck."

"I am."

"Right, here." He showed you a printed paper, "Meet me there, at 6. Don't make plans."

"What?" you squinted your eyes to read the information

"Thought you wanted help?" Exasperated at your obliviousness he huffed, "Guess not"

"Wait!" you snatched the paper out of his hands, "Sorry. Just.. Thank you" he smirked.

Your eyes lit up upon reading the paper and nodded. If it wasn't for you being so tired, and him being scary, you'd probably hug him.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" You spoke in between whispers.

"Si si, cállate. Look, it's a conference college is organizing, in a week, if you want those five extra, go. I'll be there. Don't make plans."

"Funny you think I have a social life, Mr. O'Hara. But thanks. I really appreciate it."

"At 6. Formal dress code."

"Gotcha." you nodded as you grinned. He left you alone.

----

You'd look like a liar if he saw you, a cocktail in your hand, chatting to a classmate that was nice enough talk to. It was a small celebration for a good score in the past assignment, you could breath a little, feel a bit hopeful.

"Did you saw Mr. O'Hara today? God..." the girl almost moaned in the spot.

"You kidding? He doesn't fuck his students."

"Who knows, I might be the first?"

"In getting reported maybe. Dude is scary. A friend of mine repeated twice with him."

"What about you, (Name)? I saw you in the library chatting with him."

The whole attention suddenly dropped on you.

"Ah, yeah he told me he'd see me next semester"

"Shut up. You're failing too?"

"Yeah. I mean, sure he's hot and stuff, but... yeah. I don't know how to tell my parents actually. Add me to the chat group, by the way"

Before the conversation turned into how half female college students wanted him, your classmate took you to another private spot. Mike Aguilar was his name, someone that like you, avoided unnecessary attention. What you didn't expect was that he stole a kiss from you. Between cocktails and making out with Mike for a long time, the loud music, it felt good. Felt good to experience the other side of broke colege student.

You ended up being taken to your room, railed up but Mike was gentleman enough to not indulge since you both were drunk. How long had been since someone actually indulged you? Even more so, that you had indulged yourself? You removed your pants.

You were alone, but locked up the door, and grabbed your phone. Looking up in the group chat you looked for Mike's contact and typed.

"Hey Miky"

He replied almost instantly

"Sup, hlt stuff?" He didn't care for the typos

"Wanna see aumthin?"

"*Something"

You giggled as he send a "🥴" emoji.

Biting your lip, you put the phone in a pillow and began recording. Hands trailing on your clothed breasts as you sat down and spreaded your legs. One of your hands dipped inside your panties as the other one uncovered your breast to then squeeze and toy with one.

Your mouth had shaped in an 'o' as you bucked your hips to ride slowly your own hand. Your moans were needy and they turned more wanton as you kept toying with your nipples and clit, soon gasping for air, coming undone.

You then brought your slicked fingers to your mouth and licked them clean with a groan. You then giggled and stopped recording. The alcohol buzzed fully in your system, not only clouding your judgment, but also firing up a dirty mind.

"For your eyes only"

You uploaded the video and pressed send.

Tossing the phone on your nightstand, you went back to keep indulging in yourself before your roomie could get back. But this time, you had in mind a very specific scary teacher to think about.

----

The constant beeping in your phone bolted you awake. You turned off the alarm and saw your phone. Your eyes went wide awake as dread crept up to you.

"So... What was that you wanted to show me?"

Oh no.

Panic surged through your body as seeing Mr. O'Hara's chat open with a 'video' description. Shaky fingers opened it up, only to reveal the 'seen' mark in the chat.

OH NO.

-----

Against all odds and what could go wrong, you showed up in class. Sure, sending a porn video of yourself to your scary teacher was a major fuck up. But failing class would be even a bigger fuck up of all times, You had one foot outside of it all. Once out of college you wouldn't see Mr. O'Hara, and eventually he'd forget it all. Besides, you were pretty sure that he'd receive that kind of messages on a daily basis.

Sighing, you entered the classroom and as quietly as you could you sat in the very back of it. Class went as normal as you could, but the feeling of being watched was always present. Thankfully class was over and just as you snuck to get in, you snuck out.

You couldn't look at him in the face, not after what you had done in that video. Another reason of why you didn't drink often. But now a new problem laid ahead. How would you face him on Saturday?

Talking about, you didn't even know what to wear. Maybe the universe was conspiring against you, but you were grateful enough that he didn't bring it up, maybe he didn't pay much attention. There were so many scenarios running your mind.

----

In the end, you wrote an apology. It was easier to just apologize without seeing his face, and maybe things would be buried and forgotten as days passed.

But no. He had requested to see you after class.

As you approached you squeezed the written apologize and sighed once you were before his desk, across him.

"I need you to sign here, to confirm your assistance tomorrow."

You gulped and took the pen, after sliding the letter to him. He cocked an eyebrow to you as you signed.

"What's this?" He took the crumpled paper and opened it up. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see, amusement in them. A knowing look seizing you.

"I'm so so sorry. The... The video I mean. It wasn't for you, I swear! But I was-"

"Drunk and stupid? Yeah. Noted." He tossed the letter in the trashbin and stood with his arms on his waist, "I thought you were better than that, (Name)"

Your eyes glossed over the disappointment in his tone.

"Has anyone else seen it?"

You shook your head.

His eyes glinted with something dark, something you couldn't actually pinpoint and to be honest you were too embarrassed to ask.

"Good. Anyway, 6 pm. Austen's Auditorium"

"T-That far?"

"Have a problem?"

"Uh, no. I'll be there. I'll call an Uber."

"I'll drive you."

"What? No! I mean, no. I'm uncomfortable enough as it is. Don't wanna make this even more awkward."

"Trust me, nothing that I haven't seen before, unfortunately."

"Yeah, no. I'll call an Uber. I'm financially fucked anyways. Thanks" His pupils dilated so ever softly at the way your lips muttered the word fucked. His face remained steely as usual, but his eyes gave away so much.

"Whatever. Meet me in the last row, second seat, then."

------

You showed up, high waisted, tight, black, upper knee length skirt with a small slit on the side, a cream colored blouse with matching bra and a black blazer with nude heels. It was the standar, and the only truly formal wear you had in your closet. Uber drove you to the venue and soon, you met Miguel and sat next to him. You could recognize some other students along some other teachers from other areas. Conference was about the new ways of teaching and learning, nothing too groundbreaking as you had originally thought.

The conference was two hours long and at the end, you signed up a paper sheet and was told to wait on the entrance as Miguel greeted and signed out.

"Let's go."

Miguel guided you by placing a hand on your lower back, and gave a gentle push for you to follow him.

"Car's on the third floor"

"I told you that I could get an Uber."

"And risk you to be kidnapped or something? Not a chance. Besides I wanna keep my job as much as I can."

"Gee, thanks for caring, Mr. O'Hara."

"Todo un placer, preciosa." He chuckled

Your knees trembled as he spoke in spanish, you were sat on the front seat and fastened your seatbelt. He started the engine but it just revved a couple of times before it went dead. And just when you thought nothing could go wrong, it started pouring. Hard.

"Shit."

You groaned in frustration and Miguel smirked.

"Why the rush? Have somewhere to go?"

"No, Mr. O'Hara. Just wanted to rest. I'm not used to wear heels actually."

"Thought you were meeting with that guy you were making out the other night"

Your eyes widened in utter embarrassment as he stretched in his seat.

"Jesus... this can't be even more embarrassing."

"As your teacher, I completely disapprove such behaviors. Specially with that cabrón. He's not a good person."

"What do you mean?"

"He's conditioned. Likes to spread out intimate content of girls he gets."

"How do you know this?"

"I told you, nothing I haven't seen before."

You sank in your seat, mulling over his words.

"Hate to admit but... Im kinda glad knowing this. I mean, I'm really embarrassed though, but-"

"You're glad that little video fell onto my hands and not someone else?"

You nodded, unable to look at him as your face flushed.

"Yes, what?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Must admit though." His hands on the wheel tightened. "It took me by surprise. Out of all the female students, you, did a whole show."

You gulped as your breath hitched. His eyes squinted and that dark tingle was back at it again

"Hands in those cute ass panties, riding your hand like it was the last thing you'd ever ride."

His hand pulled his hair back as he bit his lip so ever softly. You on the other hand were trembling, unable to look at him in the eye.

"Who were you thinking of?"

"N-None. I swear. This is... really really bad"

"Maybe, but so is sending really explicit videos to your teacher, preciosa."

You shut your mouth and looked at him, he leaned in and studied your face. His index and thumb taking your chin.

"You're trembling. Why? A pretty thing like you shouldn't fear me. I'm not gonna hurt you. Quite the opposite actually." His thumb caressed your cheek and his lips brushed over yours.

"I wanna make you feel as good as you did in that video." He kissed your cheek and bit softly at your earlobe earning a shudder. It was like if another person had took over him.

"Can I? You want me to make you feel good, muñeca?"

He was overwhelming your senses, then you felt him unbuttoning your shirt. You nodded.

"W-Wait... what if someone sees us?"

Miguel unbuckled your seat belt and pulled you for a deep kiss. Moaning, your hands raked down his chest, stopping at his belt.

"Don't worry on it. It's fucking pouring outside." He riled up your skirt up, exposing the fabric of your panties. His lips went to your neck and kissed a soft trail as his fingers dipped between clothed folds, earning a whimper. His free hand managed to pull out one of your breast and then rolled his tongue over it.

"So sensitive" His fingers rubbed in slow circles your little flesh mount. He took a moment to pull one of the windows two inches down, enough for air to seep in.

"Spread those legs for me, preciosa. Lemme see that pretty pussy." Your hips accommodated as your skirt was pushed upwards, he then removed your panties and smiled.

"Sit on the back seat. Can't taste you properly like that." With trembling hands you moved on the back leathery wide seat as he moved the front ones forward, leaving more space in the back. He removed his blazer and his tie. Your heels long forgotten in the front seat. He seemed like a caged animal in a tiny space, and you a small snack for him.

His hands kneaded the supple flesh of your thighs, you removed the blazer and soon he finished unbuttoning your shirt, your bra was unclasped, spilling your breast freely. He groaned and kissed you once more. In your haste you unbuckled his belt but he stopped you.

"Are you on contraceptives?"

His fingers spreaded your legs further, exposing your slick flesh. You just nodded dumbly.

"No habrá problema entonces." He muttered more to himself than anyone as he bend over, one of your thighs dangled in his left shoulder as he brought your slit closer to his mouth.

He did a small cross blessing on himself and a little prayer and licked his lips.

"We've got to be grateful for this meal." His tongue went flat against your slit and dragged it up. Your toes curled up and you groaned.

"Mira qué lindo coño tienes, mi amor." His lips focused in the little bundle of nerves, giving it soft suckles, kisses as his tongue dribbled in your inner folds.

"Podría comerte todo el día" He mumbled as he gave feathery bites on your plush flesh. His hands held your thighs, you were too enraptured in pleasure to mumble a coherent word. Instead your hands latched at his head softly and applied pressure only when he grew closer to that very sweet spot.

His tongue lapped up and soon his whole mouth disappeared between your folds. The obscene sound of his mouth working made your spine arch. He held you in place as his face kept buried between your legs. Your breath hitched as your body went taut. He switched in between devouring your clit and fucking you with his tongue.

"Y-Yes!" You hissed as searing pleasure crashed hard. Your toes curled in, and your body trembled, coming undone on his mouth. He made sure to clean you up before releasing your flesh with a wet pop. You pulled him for a kiss as the rain kept hitting the car, drowning any sound.

"Such a pretty and naughty baby." He cooed as he tied your hands behind your back with his neck tie, then pulled his pants down his knees and brought your knees close to your shoulders, exposing once more your puffed and wet cunt.

"Sending videos for me to watch" He pumped himself a couple of times before rubbing his flushed tip in your sopping folds. You moaned as he entered you slowly, feeling the good stretch of his cock in your walls and gasped.

Hearing your classmates talking about the possibilities of what Mr. O'Hara had between his legs was nothing compared to actually experiencing it as it dug deeper in your guts.

You gave a shaky whimper at how full you felt, and he was barely starting. You could only watch as his girth disappeared between your folds with ease.

"You're so tight, princesa." He kissed your temple, as you choked on a thrust he gave, shaking your whole body.

"Wanna be a good girl for me?" Nodding you groaned as he tangled one of his hands on your front bangs and held you still, to then ram his hips against yours. It earned him a sweet wail from you. He closed his eyes for a second, relishing at your warmth and tighteness

"So fucking good. Will give you a lil' present before you graduate." His hips slapped shamelessly and viciously, leaving you with little room to breathe properly. Your hands desperately trying to hold onto something

"Gonna miss you and this pussy when you're gone, you know that?" His voice rumbled through his chest between heavy pants and soft growls.

You were too cock drunk to actually speak, the lack of air was making you dizzy, soon you felt like a zombie, just grunting and moaning as his body crushed you, over and over, almost fucking you in to the seat. Miguel O'Hara was anything but gentle, in all sense of the word. The car shook softly and soon, you gritted your teeth as the pressure in your lower belly increased until you came on his cock. Gushing and clamping down hard.

Your body shook, and he cupped your cheeks, smiling at the debauched look on your face as you came, proud of himself. Your hands had numbed out, but he then untied them.

"Such a messy baby." His hips didn't stop, one of his hands snaked it's way to your neck and squeezed.

Your hands found a little strength to cling to his arm, his eyes never left you.

"Give me another one, mi amor"

He cooed as his hips fucked you silly, tears piling up at the corner of your eyes, overstimulation making a mess out of your senses. Your nails scratched his wrist as his thrust turned erratic, sloppier and finally he came as he cradled your limp body closer to his.

It was almost possessive. You gave a pathetic cry as you came with him. He kissed you softly and laid you gently.

He then pulled one of the windows down another couple of inches, letting air to refresh your burning body.

Your clothes were soiled, except for the blazer, the rest was drenched in sweat or covered in fluids. The good thing was that rain could cover up all evidence.

He looked at you in awe and pride.

----

"You look lovely in this one."

Mr. O'Hara's chat was opened, revealing a picture of you sucking his cock in his classroom with your graduation gown, looking at him with doe-like eyes.

"Thanks. You taste great, btw." You typed back, with a smirk

"Call me, Miguel, preciosa. I'm not your teacher anymore."

-----

Si si, cállate — "Yeah, yeah, shut up"

Todo un placer, preciosa - "My pleasure, gorgeous"

cabrón— Fucker

muñeca- Doll

No habrá problema entonces- "No problem then"

Mira qué lindo coño tienes, mi amor- "You have a pretty pussy, my love"

Podría comerte todo el día- "I could eat you all day"

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader

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bluerosefox · 4 days

Text

Gray and Graysons

One of the Bats has a secret. Something they never told to the others.

They were so very young but they have memories of a sibling, so small and tiny. They remember the burst of warmth they had in their heart when they held the tiny baby for just a moment.

But they weren’t allowed to keep them, their family couldn’t raise them. Money was tight, just enough for three but not for four, despite their shows always bringing in a crowd it was getting harder and harder for the world to be wowed by them in the new age and their sibling was too small and tiny and needed to be cared in a single place than for them to be on the road. Their lifestyle was not good for his tiny sibling apparently.

They had to watch as their parents gave his sibling away to people in suits, them promising to give his baby brother to a loving family when they find a ‘home’ for him. He watched his parents try to be strong only for his mother to break down once the car left down the road, his father holding her and apologizing, the rest of the circus troupe all silently coming over to give the heartbroken family condolences.

Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had tears running down his face when he last saw his baby brother.

A brother he got to name before he had to be given away.

Daniel ‘Danny’ Grayson.

-x-x-

Dick never told the others. If anyone dug deep into his past they might find his brother’s birth records maybe, if someone got around to digitizing the paperwork for him but given the fact he was placed in the US childcare systems just a few days after his birth and the fact that Dick was still pretty young they most likely believed he didn’t remember his baby brother now. Not after so many years.

But they were wrong, Dick remembers. And he kept the secret close to his heart and memories.

And the only physical evidence he had was a single picture of him holding his brother, a smile on his tiny face towards their father who had taken the photo of them together. When he had lost his parents, lost most of the things that connected him to them, to his past in the circus that had been his whole life, had been taken from him in Gotham’s ruthless childcare system, he held on tight to the picture in secret. Hid it away from anyone trying to rip it from him, hid it from Bruce when the man took him in days later, hid it from Alfred despite how gentle the butler was towards him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing his photo at the time, he hadn’t trusted anyone and by the time he did he didn’t have the heart to reveal it.

So yes, the existence of his baby brother Danny was his most guarded and best kept secret.

So that’s why Dick, as Nightwing, nearly died from a heart attack when leaving a Justice League meeting he spotted a familiar face among one of the new engineers working in the Watchtower.

It was like seeing a young version of himself. Only, Dick could see that the young man was more than a copy of him, so much more than a clone. He held many traces of John Grayson but also had a bit more of Mary Grayson than Dick did. Small details that Dick foggely remembers taking note when he had held his baby brother.

“Hey, hurry up with that report Gray!” Shouted the head engineer from down the hall, his hand beckoning the young adult to come over.

“Coming! And boss, I told you Danny is fine!” Danny shouted back before hurriedly leaving a stunned Nightwing.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #Danny and Dick are siblings #Danny is a space engineer #he worked hard and now gets to be in space #dick grayson #Dick’s parents couldn’t care for Danny because of money and the fact he was tiny #they wanted him but couldn’t keep him #his paperwork got a tiny bit lost and damaged before it got digital #so there isn’t much for either brothers to find each other #Dick did look but found next to nothing about where his brother went #Danny still had the original papers but the papers got damaged bad and his last name is a little lost #he knows it’s Gray something #small what if in this AU but what if he married Val and took her last name #and later finds his old papers and is teased he was always meant to be a Gray some way #BUT he doesn’t have to married in this #just a tiny what if #BUT he has changed his last name to Gray after a bad fall out with he Fenton’s #it wasn’t even because of him being a half ghost or even because of Vlad #nope it was because he didn’t want to be ghost hunter

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ceilidho · 5 months

Note

‘John price with a single mother this’ ‘Simon Riley with a single mother that’

Yeah yeah keep yapping. Now ME? I think we’re seriously undervaluing the sheer perfection that is Johnny fucking MacTavish with a single mother. He’s insufferable. If there’s an opportunity to worm his way into your life permanently, he’s taking it. My brains fixated on newly moved in neighbour reader and Johnny just comes back from being deployed and there’s this pretty woman next door and woah! bonus points! She has a baby!

He’s bouncing off the walls. He’s sick. Almost first thing he does after seeing you come in and out the flats alone a few times is ask if your lad is around. Has to try so hard to pretend to be sympathetic when you say he did a runner when he found you you were pregnant.

He’s actually spectacular with babies. Makes a point of it whenever he sees you with the kid too; always makes her chuckle, goes out of his way to prove that he’s great with kids. Works his way into it, builds a rapport so when you’re called into work for an emergency you just can’t miss the first person you go to for babysitting is Johnny. When you get back, he’s ‘asleep’ on the couch with the baby on his chest and you just don’t have it in you to wake him so you just sit on the other end of the couch and wait. When he does ‘wake up’ it’s a bit late to be kicking him out so you just offer to let him stay night (this becomes a reoccurring theme).

Starts referring to the you and baby as ‘the bairn’ and ‘his lass’ long before he even asks you out. Asked out for drinks? No, sorry. He’s got to go home to his lass and the bairn. Is he busy this weekend? Yeah he’s taking his lass and the bairn to the amusements. Frequently confuses work colleagues and friends alike because when did Johnny have time to A. Get a girl and B. Shag her enough to knock her up???? Will NOT correct anyone who calls him your husband or the baby’s dad, and will actually get upset if you do.

The moment you agree to go out with him he’s micromoving you into his flat (he’s already looking for houses). Has pictures of you and the baby up on his wall in less than an hour of you being his girlfriend. The ‘spare’ crib is already assembled. He’s already picked a ring. He’s insane. He’s in love. He’s known you for like three months. He’s already got the next like two pregnancies planned out (he wants a big family. No he hasn’t asked you yet). Actually kind of deludes himself into forgetting the baby isn’t his biological child. Wdym it’s not his kid it looks exactly like him??? I think he would actually get a little violent if the baby’s father randomly popped up demanding visitation out of the blue. Said baby’s father is not heard from again.

Anyways I’m insane and in love with Johnny MacTavish and his silly deranged ways send tweet

i want you to know that i woke up to get some water in the middle of the night and happened to check my phone and see this and i had to physically hold myself back from answering it at like. 3am.

first of all, i love you. second of all? i love this. i have been repeating "his lass and the bairn" in my head for like five hours now. johnny deluding himself into thinking the baby is actually his? that little gasp you heard was the last little bit of air in my lungs escaping before i expired and died.

there's no way he wouldn't end up saying something batshit crazy like "look at his wee little nose - just like his daddy's huh?" and you'd just be frozen staring at the two of them. maybe your baby's nose does look a little like johnny's but - that doesn't mean - is he just joking or -?

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x you #soap x reader #soap/reader #the way im actually tagging this so i don't lose it

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 6 months

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Halloween prompts year 2 day 27

Danny watched on as Nightwing- his literal soulmate- did an amazing backflip off of a roof, spinning several times in the air before landing gracefully on the top of another building. Nightwing was so graceful and in control of himself and his movements. Danny found himself wondering how Nightwing would move as a ghost.

Heck, how would he look as a ghost? Would he have white hair like Phantom or blue hair like Ember? Maybe green hair like Kitty and Youngblood, but Ghostwriters hair was still black as a ghost so maybe he'd be like that?

Shaking his head he moved to get up from where he had been leaning up against an old chimney, Nightwing having long since left. How should he go about this anyway? He can't just go up to a famous vigilante and be like, "Hi I'm your soulmate. Wanna go out with a complete stranger who has no way of proving anything that they're saying?"

And there was the real issue. If Nightwing asked how he had seen his soulmark Danny could just tell the truth: he had seen it in that nasty fight last week where hoards of ninjas had attacked them and tore up Nightwings suit enough to see it from his vantage point.

But if he asked about Dannys soul mark...well that was harder to explain.

His own soulmark used to be on his torso before he died but after he stepped out of the portal it was gone. As in there wasn't a trace of it anywhere. It was one of the reasons he never went anywhere without a shirt anymore because he knew someone would eventually notice its absence.

He could probably explain it as Phantom to make it more believable but he would have to get Nightwing to know Phantom more for him to trust him.

Which lead back to "how do I introduce myself to him without earning an electrified stick to the face?"

After a phone call with Jazz, where she basically gave him the long winded version of "Just be yourself! You were made for eachother after all." He decided that yeah! He can use his ghostly instincts to guide him! Whats the worst that could happen?

Cue Nightwing and the other bats in the batcave a week later, crowded around a table covered in pictures of captured villians and thugs. All of them were the same. All of them showed a subject laying on thier bellys hog tied, and in a cage with the words "horny jail" etched into it.

The only real connection that all of these lowlifes had was them making crude threats, creepy unsolicited advances, catcalling or otherwise being a creep towards Nightwing.

Conclusion: Nighting either has a fanboy following him around getting in over his head or he has a violent stalker staking a claim

Robin disagreed with his siblings. Clearly whoever is doing this is defending Graysons honor and Damian approves.

Danny thinks he's doing a good job in the "showing soulmate that you are capable of protecting him from weirdos" maybe he should get Nightwing an Anti-Creep Stick of his own...

#halloween prompts #prompts #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #nightwing #death defying #dick grayson #fanfiction prompts #danny: im doing a good job of showing him i can protect him from creeps :D #most of the batfam: Is this a supervillian with a crush???#danny once again labeled as a supervillian #and he keeps making it look worse and worse and only damian can see it for what it really is but no one believes him #dick: *finds anti creep stick that was left for him with a big bow on it“ oh no its progressed to gifts now #danny doesnt care if the relationship is platonic or romantic #he just wants Nightwing to like him and not be afraid of him

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lysenfeu · 6 months

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Cheque Please!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt: Public

Summary: Venom gets a little too enthusiastic after you offer him a treat on date night with Eddie. Content: Smut (F/M), Semi-public sex, Alien sex, Tentacles/tendrils, Oral sex (F receiving)

A/N: I love my scrunkly journalist and his goo husband so much, absolute menaces the pair of them.

[Read on AO3]

[Kinktober 2023 Masterlist]

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Date night with Eddie was your favourite night of the week. This time he'd taken you out to a cozy Italian place with plush seating and gorgeous decor. You had spent the evening laughing at Eddie's ridiculous work stories and eating some of the best pasta you'd ever had. Now at the end of the night, you were comfortably buzzed after splitting a bottle of red wine and you were thoroughly enjoying your time with your adorable boyfriend.

The server approached your table and quickly cleared your empty plates before placing a small menu in front of you. "Are you interested in any coffee or dessert?"

An image on the front of the menu caught your eye immediately, an absolutely decadent-looking chocolate cake. Eddie must have seen the look on your face as he chuckled and promptly asked the server to bring you a slice. You were delighted when it arrived looking exactly like the picture. After the first bite, you’d thought you might have died and gone to heaven. Savouring every bite of the rich, velvety chocolate treat reminded you of a certain inky black someone with a sweet tooth.

Of course, everywhere Eddie went, Venom was with him. Never alone and never apart as Venom liked to say. The inseparable pair had revealed themselves to you awhile ago and after the initial shock of finding out the cute guy you’d been dating had an actual alien inside him, Venom had grown on you. You knew he was simmering somewhere under Eddie’s skin, seeing and hearing everything but knowing not to reveal himself too obviously.

"Hey, does the big guy want a bite?"

YES!

The symbiote roared to life in Eddie’s mind and he rolled his eyes at the overager tone of his other half.

"He does but he really doesn't deserve any. He’s been an absolute pain lately" Eddie's jacket sleeve wobbled a little, Venom subtly showing off his annoyance with his host's comments.

You pouted at your boyfriend. "Aw, come on babe. He can have a little bit."

AGREE WITH HER! SHE IS SMARTER THAN YOU.

Eddie sighed in resignation. "Alright, fine. But only if he promises to not be seen and behave." He did his best to glare at the alien in silent warning internally. Venom slipped out of Eddie's sleeve and dropped beneath the table, quickly extending himself over to where you were sitting. You arranged up the last pieces of the decadent dessert on your fork.

Eddie shook his head at you as you carefully lifted the tablecloth and held out the utensil in your lap. "You're way too soft on him, you know."

"It's just a piece of cake, shush."

Venom's head moved over to you, opening his jaws and unfurling his tongue, the long appendage moving around in anticipation of the chocolatey treat. A few strings of saliva splattered onto your thigh, cold and wet against your skin. An involuntary shiver raced down your spine and your grip on the fork tensed. You weren't a stranger to Venom teasing you, he’d been involved with both you and Eddie countless times, but having him do it unexpectedly in such a risky location was new.

The alien’s tongue reached out and curled around your wrist, pulling your whole arm under the table. The utensil wobbled dangerously before the symbiote could bring it closer, smearing the cake along your thigh as he dragged it towards his split open mouth. You didn’t get a moment to process the streak of crumbs and powdered sugar now decorating your leg before Venom’s tongue released your wrist and moved to lap at the mess, the wet thickness sliding along the soft skin on your inner thigh.

Venom blinked, cautiously smelling the air before recognizing the scent. He was smelling chocolate and you. You couldn't help your reaction, the cold spit and warm muscle in such a sensitive area left you wet and wanting more. Your thighs immediately tried to snap closed searching for friction but Venom caught you. Inky black tendrils split off from his form, gripping at your knees and prying them apart, giving him full access to you underneath the table. Your scent was overwhelming him and the alien desperately needed more. You shakily brought your hand back to the tabletop and clumsily dropped the fork on your plate, deeply distracted by the alien moving between your legs. Eddie looked at you curiously, you were flushed and biting down on your bottom lip to stop from making too much noise.

Vee? What’s going on?

Venom slid his impossibly long, wet tongue along your clothed cunt, soaking through the rest of the lacy fabric that you hadn’t already drenched.

DELICIOUS.

Eddie watched from across the table as your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open with a gasp. Eddie frowned, suspicious of the alien and somewhat worried about you.

What are you doing?

WE ARE SAYING THANK YOU.

Venom ran his tongue along your center again, dipping beneath the seam of your panties and finally tasting you. The symbiote was sending flashes of how you looked, felt and smelled straight into Eddie's mind. The dirty little secrets of how well you were responding to his teasing, how wet you already were, just for them. Venom thought you tasted even better than the cake and Eddie certainly wasn’t going to disagree.

As the images and sensations flooded Eddie's mind, his eyes darkened with lust and his cock twitched to life trapped in his jeans. He muttered something about public decent and how that’s not exactly behaving but fine.

Be quiet but don’t stop.

WE WILL NEVER STOP.

A tendril slithered up your thigh and along the edge of your panties, slipping underneath and pulling them to the side.

As quietly as possible, Venom licked at your fully exposed pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking hard against your clit. Electricity shot through you at the contact, You brought your napkin up to your lips to try and stifle the moans continuously threatening to escape you as Venom did it again and again, knowing just how to bring you right to the edge.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you, his pupils were blown out with desire and his cock aching in his denims as Venom relayed every bit of your pleasure and taste to him. The symbiote was also sending him absolutely filthy suggestions of what they could both do to you back at home when Venom could come out to play properly. Visions of you spread out underneath them, hearing all those sounds you needed to supress right now, the two of them making you fall apart over and over. Eddie was nearly delirious from the onslaught of Venom's ideas. Your hands fisted into the table cloth and your eyes fluttered shut as Venom’s tongue slipped in and out of your soaking pussy, impossibly long and thick, dragging along your slick walls.

"Hey, hey." Eddie gently chided you from across the table. "Look at me." He reached out and grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb against your palm.

You forced your eyes open to meet Eddie's gaze. The intensity on his face caught you off guard. He looked downright ravenous; like he wanted to devour you whole the same way Venom was trying to.

“You can take it, can’t you? Be good for us.”

A whine built in the back of your throat, both of your boys were clearly on board with this. The pair were getting off on teasing and torturing you in public, Venom treating you like his very own dessert. You could take it, you would be a good girl for them. Eddie asked so nicely, how could you disappoint him?

Eddie watched with rapt attention as you let Venom wreck you in public. None of the other tables would know anything out of the ordinary was happening but Eddie knew. He knew how hard you were trying to keep quiet as you were about to cum, how a mix of your juices and Venom’s saliva was dripping onto the chair underneath you as your thighs shook around Venom’s head. Vee finally pushed you over the edge, your pussy clamping down and convulsing around the alien’s soaked tongue Eddie saw you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as your eyes rolled back in your head and you came completely undone on Venom’s face, flooding the symbiote with your sweet flavour.

The alien appendages slowly withdrew from you as Venom slithered away and retracted back into Eddie, satisfied with himself for the moment. You felt Eddie squeeze your hand and ground you, helping you float back down to earth. When you opened your eyes, you caught Eddie staring at you with obvious lust and a hint of pride in his gaze.

“Such a good girl, you did great baby.”

You smiled lazily at him, still a little wobbly from the sensory overload but filled with warmth at the praise, These two would be the death of you one day, but you knew you’d enjoy every second of it. You were still trying to catch your breath and recover from the intense orgasm when the server approached the table again.

"How was the cake? Anything else I can get you?"

"Everything was great, we just need the cheque please." Eddie grinned at you, a predatory gleam in his eye.

"We should get going, there’s something we need to take care of at home.”

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A/N: Well that was a fun one! I really hope you enjoyed it, please leave a comment, reblog or like <3

#eddie brock #venom #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #venom x reader #venom x you #eddie brock x venom x you #eddie brock x venom x reader #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock smut #venom fanfic #venom smut #kinktober 2023

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ghosty-writes-23 · 2 months

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I'm Home Sweetheart. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, NSFW Content, !CONSENT IS KEY!, Body worship, !WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Choking, Breathplay, Size kink, Spit play, Doggystyle, Blow Job, Eating out, 69, Dom!Leon, Aftercare.

Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “Tell me about your book sweetheart, I want to recreate those scenes with you.” Where your kind and caring husband Leon comes home early from a mission and surprises you by building a private in-home library as you were starting to run out of space to keep your precious books and wants to recreate your favourite scenes from your favourite authors.

Word Count: 3.7k

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

Ada's Version.

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18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interact // 18+ Content.

Using your teeth to pull open the bottle cap top of the ice cold orange juice, you took a few huge mouthfuls as you waited for the stop light to turn green, the drink was cold and refreshing causing a shiver to run though your body as you placed the bottle on the passenger's seat. Today you were coming back from annual and yearly no boyfriends or husbands girls vacation weekend you and your best friend always planned since you were in high school.

The trip started out innocently just spending the day at the spa getting your nails done and relaxing, to only end up going clubbing last night and dancing on the table to when I grow up by the pussycat dolls in 6 inch stiletto heels. As much as you loved the girls' vacation and letting loose for a couple days, you couldn’t wait to get home and curl up next to your husband, with a spicy enemies to lovers book with your dog Ace cuddled into your side.

Ace is an old German shepherd that is also an ex police dog whose owner was killed in the line of duty, the poor dog was so confused on why his owner and handler didn’t come back, he would wait for his older owner to return, as time went on Ace grew more and more depressed he refused to work with anybody else or be social with other dogs.

It go so bad that the police department thought it would be better to put Ace up for adoption and hope he would find a loving forever home but Ace just stayed in his kennel hiding away, he refused to eat and would growl at anybody who came near him.

That was until he met your husband of 8 years Leon who was looking for a dog that could protect you while he was away on missions, but also he could play around with at the park or at home when he had time off, the moment the two of them meet they were inseparable and Leon rushed to adopt him that day and after waiting for a week you both welcomed Ace into your little family and you both became the dogs whole world.

Always coming for cuddles and acting like a huge baby even letting you put Leon’s sunglasses on him and take pictures, it filled your heart with so much joy when Ace started putting on weight and started looking healthier.

Then you have your sweet little Oreo who was just your average black cat with white little paws and little face markings with one marking on her chest that looks like a heart, she was a stray when you first found her huddled in a small box on a stormy night outside your mom’s bakery, she was so small and fragile you didn’t think she would make it through the night, she was really skinny and her fur was matted to her skin nearly, she must of been abandoned at a very young age which broke your heart.

She had no collar and no microchip so it was pointless trying to find her old owners. So that night you wrapped her up in your warm woolly scarf and took her home, where both you and Leon very gently brushed her fur, clipped her nails and gave her some food and water after you asked Leon to get some kitten food before you got home. She warmed up to you both but she mostly stuck to your side always wanting cuddles and pets.

You ended up adopting her a few days later after she passed all the vet checks and got her vaccinations, she was a little cautious of Leon since he smelt like Ace, but Ace was a good boy and let Oreo get used to him, even if it meant he got bit and clawed at a few times but slowly they became friends, then even shared Ace’s bed on cold nights and play with their toys with each other.

When the stoplight finally turned green you started driving down the main highway listening to the music that softly played in your car, distracting you from the slightly throbbing pain in your head from your dull hangover. The drive home was quick and you pulled into your garage within 10 minutes, the throbbing in your head subsided and you didn't feel as bad but you where really hungry.

Getting out you grabbed your bag and started heading inside to where you could hear Ace happily barking at the front door, you could even hear his tippy tappy paws, it caused you to smile thinking somebody was excited that you were home.

“Hey Baby.” You say happily after opening the front door, Ace was running around your legs, his tail wagging so fast it was almost like a dark blur as he was barking, it was so sweet, you heard Oreo meow from the small table by the door as if she was saying welcome home, putting your bag down you kneeled down and started petting ace and gave Oreo’s head a soft kiss.

“Yes yes I missed you guys too.” you say as Oreo rubbed her face on your cheek and Ace was nuzzling into your hand. “Where you talking to me sweetheart.” Your husband Leon says with a soft chuckle, causing you to look at him wide eyed before running over and hugging Leon tightly. “Your back early.” you say happily wrapping your arms around his neck, his large arms wrapped around your waist pulling your body closer to him.

“Surprise.” he says as you nuzzle into his chest, you were so glad your husband was home in one piece. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whined softly hitting his shoulder causing him to laugh before he grabbed your smaller hand in his larger one. “Because I have a surprise for you.” he hints as he starts walking down the hallway of your house, you were a little confused but you followed your husband anyway.

Soon you found yourself outside your storage room, it was a spare bedroom you and Leon used for storage since it was pretty spacious and you didn't really use it, pulling out a key from his pocket Leon slid the key into lock and softly popped open the door. “Go inside.” Leon says, by his tone you could tell he was excited for you to see his surprise, pushing the door open you gasped softly, your one messy and chaotic storage room was turned into an in-home library.

There was black floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your books and some new ones you recognized, there was also a small wooden ladder that travel down the bookshelves, a fluffy rug on the ground, your window seat was decorated with comfy pillows and a blanket, there was a small coffee table in the middle of the room with a container with bookmarks, colorful page tabs, highlighters fine tip pens, and a blackberry and guava scented candle accompanied by a box of matches, in the far right conner was a little coffee and tea station where you could make a hot drink and cozy up with one of your books, The room felt warm and cozy, you could feel your eyes tearing up at the sight.

“Leon…” you say quietly, your voice cracking slightly, you looked up at your husband teary eyed to which he softly cupped your cheek and kissed you softly. “Happy valentines day, I wanted you to have a place for all your books since they were kind of taking over the house.” he says with a chuckle as he rested his forehead on yours as his rough thumb stroked the soft skin of your cheek, it would explain the black paint smudge on his face.

“I love you so much.” you say wrapping your arms around his neck, sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve Leon. “Not as much as I love you sweetheart.” he says as he gives your hips a slight squeeze.

Later That Night

You where cozied up in your little library reading one of the new books Leon had purchased you, it was a spicy romance novel that has a few dark twists, just as you were about to turn to the next page your library door opened and saw Leon was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest he must of come back from his night run with Ace.

When your gaze met his there was a soft and gentle look in his baby blue eyes as he took in the sight of you reading your book, the soft light of the lamp casting a warm glow on your skin, to him you where Leon’s little slice of heaven from the rest of the chaos in his world.

“What's this book about?” Leon asked with curiosity as he walked into your library and rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble tickling the side of your face. “A spicy forbidden romance between a DEA agent and a criminal mastermind.” you tell him with a small giddy look on your face, it was no secret that you had an ‘interest’ in forbidden romances but Leon was no stranger to that.

“Do you like a man in uniform?” he mumbled deeply in your ear as he started to press soft kisses to your neck, a soft sigh left your lips as you bit your bottom lip.

“You know I do.” you say as your eyes flutter closed enjoying the loving affection from your husband, your book now just a passing thought. “How about you put your book down and get that pretty little ass upstairs.” Leon suggests against your ear, his voice a few octaves deeper causing you to squeeze your thighs slightly, you felt one of his hands make its way from your hip up your stomach and chest before he wrapped his fingers around your neck and gave it a light squeeze causing a soft whine to leave your lips.

“Okay.” you say looking up at him through your lashes, releasing your neck he placed an innocent kiss on your forehead before you started making your way to your shared bedroom upstairs.

Once you made it to your shared bedroom you could hear Leon doing something downstairs, but you just went and waited on your bed for him with your hands in your lap, after a couple moments you could hear his heavy footsteps coming up the steps “he must be wearing his boots.” you thought and when he came into view all the moisture in your mouth evaporated, thighs squeezed together and your pussy clenched.

There Leon stood in his work clothing which consisted of a navy blue short sleeve top that was tight around his biceps, dark grey cargo jeans and black combat boots, but what really caught your eyes was the grey tactical vest that was strapped around his front and back. You felt yourself gulping slightly as you looked at your husband up and down, “I’m in danger.” you thought but you couldn’t help but be excited.

“Like what you see doll?” Leon asked, there was a slight tease in his tone as he walked over to you and gently grabbed your chin with his gloved hand, you nodded your head not trusting your voice as you nuzzled your face into his hand, hearing a soft chuckle you felt Leon gently tug your face up before he gently kissed you, his lips were warm and soft his kiss gentle and sweet.

Feeling his hand move away from your chin you felt him start to strip you of your oversized shirt that was clearly his, only breaking the kiss for a second to tug his your shirt off then tossing it on the ground before reconnecting your lips again, you feel back onto your plush bed one of his knees in between your legs as he hovered over you.

Your fingers found their way into his dark hair and gently tugged on his roots, earning you a soft groan from your husband as he tugged your leggings off your legs leaving you in your bra and panties. When Leon finally broke the kiss you looked up at each other breathing heavily, nothing but love and affection swimming in both your eyes for each other.

One of his gloved hands rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip sticking your tongue out slightly you ran it up the front of his glove before taking his gloved thumb into your mouth and gently sucking.

“And you say I'm a tease princess.” Leon groaned, cheekily you gently bit his thumb and your teeth leaving a little imprint in his glove, before you leaned up and kissed him then used your strength to push Leon over onto the other side of the bed then straddle his waist, you felt his eyes on you but you where on a mission you wanted to pay Leon back for the library and the thoughtfulness then went into the idea.

You unclipped his tactical vest and placed on the ground be your bed before you trailed gentle kisses down his clothed chest and stomach as your hands worked on unbutton his pants and tugging them down his legs leaving him in his underwear.

When you finally reached the top of his underwear that had a wet patch, you gently tugged them down revealing his hard cock that was leaking precum everywhere, you looked up at Leon as if to ask permission Leon nodded his head and ran his fingers through your hair and held it in a makeshift ponytail so your hair didn’t get in your eyes.

Smiling soft you let your tongue run up the side before you wrapped your lips around the tip and slowly began to bob your head you could feel every vein and ridge, he was heavy on your tongue but there was a small comfort, you made yourself at home placing your hands on his muscular thighs as you set a smooth pace.

Slowly bobbing your head occasionally he would hit the back of your throat, causing tears to prick your eyes but you blinked them away quickly.

Above you could hear Leon groaning and giving you soft praises of “such a good girl” and “feels so good darling.” the praise sent heat to your cheeks and kept you going, you wanted to make him feel good, you wanted to be his good girl.

You could feel your jaw was being to hurt slightly when your suddenly pulled off, breathing heavily saliva coating your slightly swollen lips a soft whine leaving your throat as you looked at your husband with a pout, he was breathing heavily his cheeks were slightly pink.

“Want to make you feel good too.” Leon says before you can think about what he said he pulls your lower half over his face, his stubble tickling the inside of your thighs, you could feel his warm breath on the wet patch of your panties causing you to clench around nothing and a soft whine to leave your lips.

When you felt him move your panties to the side and his tongue ran up your folds, a soft moan left your lips as you slightly arched your back. You could feel the heat running through your body as he feasted on you, as if he was in his own little world with his tongue deep inside you.

Feeling his wrap his arms around your hips to keep you in place, you went back to giving him the same pleasure, your pillowy lips wrapping around his cock again and bobbing your head at a steady pace with your cheeks slightly sucked in.

You could feel him twitching in your mouth, you pulled away slightly and swirled your tongue around his tip causing his hips to jolt slightly you knew he was close, but so where you as your thighs shook slightly around his head.

“Fuck doll cumming.” Leon groaned before you pushed him all the way down your throat, a few tears rolling down your cheeks at the sudden intrusion but you ignored the pain as your throat muscles tightened around him.

Leon came down your throat with a deep groan and even slightly bucked his hips, you soon followed and came with a loud moan, pulling away slightly you breathed heavily and wiped your mouth. Leon was breathing heavily but there was a huge grin on his face as he moved so now he was hovering over you.

“Another round princess?” he asked as he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a silver square, you could barely pull a thought together but you nodded your head and let your husband position you how he wanted, lucky this time you were laid on your stomach with a pillow under your hips, your head resting against your pillow and soft hum leaving your lips as you where in a comfortable position.

You heard the sound of the condom packet being torn open and the lid of a lube bottle being cracked opened, it wasn’t that you weren't used to Leon’s size but sometimes it made it more comfortable, you heard the sound of the rest of his clothes hit the ground beside the bed as he stripped off, he even carefully took your soaked panties off and tossed them onto the pile of his clothes.

“Cold.” you whined softly as a shiver went down your spine, you felt Leon placed a small blob over your slit and gently rub it in. “I know sweetheart, you'll warm up soon princess I promise.” Leon says before you felt him at your entrance, you closed your eyes and waited for the familiar stretch, a soft moan left your lips as he slowly pushed in being careful and soon bottomed out a soft groan leaving both of your lips as you felt each other.

“Fuck.” you cursed as you placed your face into your pillow, no matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms you with how good he makes you feel.

“Are you ok?” Leon asked when you felt him gently kiss your shoulder, when he was this gentle with you it made your heart skip a beat, you nodded your head and gave him a smile as you leaned up and softly kissed her cheek.

“I’m ok but I do have one request?” you say when you notice he is still wearing the gloves on his hands, you saw him glance between you and his hands a small smirk on his face as he already knew what you were asking him for, moving his arm his bicep wrapped snug around your neck giving a soft squeeze Leon began to thrust slowly, teasingly but you here in heaven with his bicep around your neck.

“Such a dirty little girl, do you like it when I choke you? Deprive you of oxygen until you nearly pass out.” Leon asked his tone was mean and nasty as the pace of his thrusts picked up, your brain was going fuzzy you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

You loved it when Leon was your kind and sweet husband but deep deep down a part of you liked it when he was mean and dominant, it made you feel so small being under him, his body towering over yours, his muscles and strength double if not triple then yours and it was such a turn on.

“Yes I do.” you choked out as you looked up at your husband, there was a smirk on his face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.

“Open.” he demanded and you opened your mouth without hesitation then you felt Leon spit into your mouth making you feel even dirtier, but you loved it and grinned up at him almost as if you were a crazed woman, you swallowed before you opened your mouth again and stick out your tongue.

“Fuck I love you so much.” Leon groaned his voice deeper as he tightened his bicep around your neck, causing small spots to come into your version. You knew your safe word but you didn’t want to use it, this feeling felt like pure ecstasy and you were floating. “You close darling?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach.

“Yes.” you choked out in between moans, your thighs were trembling and your head was feeling foggy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow. After a couple minutes you slowly felt him pull out then discard the used condom in the rubbish.

an hour later

You were freshly showered and dressed in one of Leon’s shirts and a pair of panties, you both were relaxing in bed cuddled into Leon with Ace sleeping in his dog bed next to the window and Oreo resting and purring in between you and Leon.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” you heard Leon asked as he was tracing his thumb on your hip bone under his shirt you were wearing. “No, you were perfect as always.” you say you press a kiss to the top of his bare chest that had a few old scars, this caused him to smile and pull you closer to him being careful of Oreo as he doesn’t want to be attacked by her again.

“Happy Valentine's Day doll.” Leon says as he kisses your head and makes sure both you and Oreo are comfortable on the bed, “Happy Valentine's Day honey.” you say as you leaned up and softly kissed him, grateful to have a husband as kind, caring and gentle as Leon….

----------

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buckyalpine · 6 months

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Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

Eddie's porn stash is a pretty conventional one. An 'if you've seen one stash you've seen them all' type. It basically only consists of skin mags, some of them kinky but most of them vanilla. Normal stuff.

The oddest thing in it is a two-year-old calendar. You know those sexy firefighter calendars? Usually a charity thing? A hit with the housewife crowd? Yeah. Except this calendar decided to branch out and include a bunch of sexy men from a bunch of sexy professions.

So, in this thing, joining the sexy firefighter is a sexy doctor, a sexy construction worker, a sexy police officer (whose month Eddie tore out and burned because fuck cops but don't ever fuck cops), a sexy librarian, and so on. They're all really good-looking, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic.

It's weird. Paramedics aren't normally part of the traditionally sexy professions. It's messy and sometimes tragic, but lacks the high-paying glamour that doctors and nurses enjoy. Eddie's had his fair share of fantasies, and none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

The guy in the calendar simply is that hot.

There's not even anything risqué about his picture. None of the pictures go beyond "this dude is chiseled and shirtless", because veering even slightly past the softest softcore territory would scare off the little housewives or something.

(Eddie is actually pretty fucking sure it'd increase the sales, but hey, what does he know.)

The point is, there's nothing that obscene about the pic. Just a guy kneeling in the back of an ambulance, first aid equipment scattered between his powerful thighs, shirt open to reveal his sculpted torso…

Dark hair spanning across his pecs, over his abs, vanishing down his tight tight tight pants. Hips canting upward, bringing attention to the size of his bulge beneath the zipper. Broad shoulders, ripped arms and large hands, veins protruding across the back. A pretty yet masculine face, with a strong jaw and a straight nose, full lips, a smattering of moles going down his biteable neck. Voluminous, golden brown hair swooped away from his twinkling eyes.

He's got this look in them, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in the calendar.

The one month everyone will go crazy for.

Eddie has become intimately familiar with that look. No joke, in two years it's made him crack his marbles more than anyone else has done in his quarter-century lifetime. When all else fails, November-paramedic has his back. It's basically his longest relationship to date, which sounds a lot sadder out loud (and it sounded fucking sad inside his head, too).

You might wonder why any of that is relevant now, as he sits on the curb outside of The Behemoth with blood trickling from his temple, his band giving their statements to one cop while another hauls away the snarling douchebag that clipped him. How does it play a part in this god-awful night out, you ask?

Well.

"Sir?"

Eddie startles, too caught up in the thudding inside his head, made worse by the buzzing crowd, to notice the man approaching him. He looks up, his gaze gliding past uniformed legs, muscular forearms, a curved neck and honeyed eyes appraising Eddie, and oh.

Oh God.

Eddie's breath sticks in his chest and his tongue becomes a cognate to sandpaper, because it's the paramedic.

It's the paramedic. From the calendar.

He's hallucinating. He has to be. He collapsed on the sidewalk, and now he's having one last weird sex dream before his brain finishes seeping out and he fucking dies.

November-paramedic crouches in front of him. Eddie continues to gape like he's getting ready to catch the peanuts no one is tossing at him.

"My name is Steve. I'm with the ambulance," November-paramedic says. "What's your name?"

Eddie makes a noise incomprehensible to most Earth cultures before his brain registers the meaning of the question and stutters out the answer.

"I- Uh- E-Eddie. It's, it's Eddie."

November-paramedic – Steve – smiles kindly. Heat prickles across Eddie's cheeks and neck. It's not the same as the cocky, sexy smile he's got in the calendar, but still. He's smiling. At Eddie!

"Hi, Eddie." He nods toward Eddie's temple. "That's an impressive cut you got there. May I take a look at it?"

"Yeah? Yeah. Um, g-go ahead."

As Steve sets down his bag and rummages through it, Eddie scours his face to confirm that it really is the guy from the calendar. To his chagrin, it is. There's no mistaking it. Those eyes, like liquid gold. That jawline, a weapon in its own right. Those moles, applied so skillfully it must've been by an artist's hand. That hair, coming straight out of a commercial for luxury shampoo. It's lying flatter than in the calendar, either lacking product or having sweated it out, but it's still glorious.

Steve, having finished washing his hands, tugs on a pair of disposable gloves. The plastic snaps against his wrist, sending a shiver through Eddie. It centers between his legs. Shit, if he pops a boner now…

"I'm going to ask you some questions, okay?" Steve says while pressing a square piece of gauze against the cut. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Eh, Thursday?"

"Do you know where you are?"

"The Behemoth."

Steve nods and, with a lopsided smile, asks, "And are you a patron or did you and your head injury just wander onto the scene?"

Eddie laughs. Loud, merry, and verging on too long. It wasn't even that funny. Steve seems pleased his joke was a success, though. Unless his smile is the uncomfortable kind that one wears when faced with the unhinged. Eddie isn't sure how much blood he's lost.

"No, I, like, my band…" he says, stammering like talking isn't what he does best. Jesus Christ, it's just a hot guy! Eddie has made a fool of himself in front of those plenty of times – no need to get flustered about it. He clears his throat. "We had a gig and, after, at the bar, some guys got into a fight. Got ugly, so we tried to leave, but… alas!" He makes a dramatic sweep of his arm, nearly clocking Steve. Steve expertly ducks away without lessening the pressure on the wound. Eddie soldiers on, not daring to pause lest he lose his steam. Hopefully his burning face is enough of an apology. "Fucker wasn't even aiming for me. He missed his intended target and struck me instead."

"Right. Did you lose consciousness after he hit you?"

"Nope."

"Good. Did you drink tonight?"

"Half a beer, at most."

"Do-"

"Eddie!"

Gareth's nasally voice cuts off Steve's question. The next second, he's materialized beside them with a slightly alarmed expression. "Dude, are you…!"

He trails off, eyes growing into dinner plates. There isn't that much blood, is there?

Steve looks Gareth up and down, a crease between his brows. "Is this your friend?"

"My drummer. Gareth."

Eddie half-expects Steve to demand Gareth leaves so he can do his job in peace, but nope. That kind, calm smile is back. He even gives him one of those little upward-nods 'cool guys' like to do.

"What's up, Gareth? I'm Steve; I'm with the ambulance. Just making sure Eddie won't keel over later tonight."

"Uh huh…" Gareth kneels opposite Steve. He's smiling too, but his is shit eating. Eddie frowns in confusion, because what does Gareth have to be happy about? He was freaking out right after Eddie got hit, but now he's staring at Steve like-

Oh.

He's staring at Steve.

No. Noooooooooo! Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh why, why has he kept his porn stash in a drawer without a lock all these years?! He can't recollect the reason Gareth opened that particular drawer on that particular day – all Eddie remembers is how Gareth, Jeff, and Marv snickered when he explained the inclusion of the calendar.

That was it, though. They moved on. Sure, there has been the occasional roasting after the fact, but it's not like he hasn't also mocked them for their weird shit. But that's not the point. The point is that Gareth is staring at Steve like he recognizes him.

Gareth's attention flicks toward Eddie. Eddie shakes his head as subtly yet pleadingly as he can. Gareth's grin gobbles down another turd. Eddie makes a valiant effort to explode Gareth's eyeballs with his mind.

"Say…" Gareth turns to Steve. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. Eddie, do you have a headache?"

"Yeah, man," Eddie says, voice trembling. "Hurts like hell."

"I could've sworn I've seen your face before," Gareth says. "Like, I'm 100% sure."

"Are you dizzy or nauseous?" Steve asks, ignoring Gareth.

"Um, a little dizzy but no nausea?"

"Hmm, okay. Blurred vision or uneven numbness?"

"No."

Steve nods, glancing at his watch. Then, to Eddie’s dismay, he looks at Gareth. "I've never been to this bar before."

"Nono, not here. Somewhere else…"

Steve's lips purse and his brows knit into the most adorable thinking-face Eddie has ever seen. His heart skips a beat, then skips two more as Steve's free hand gently cups Eddie's cheek. The skin catches fire where Steve's gloved fingertips touch it.

"Let me have a look at your pupils…" Steve says, guiding Eddie's face and, holy shit, leaning in close for a better look.

Eddie gulps, half his blood rushing up and the other half down; he squeezes his legs together to prevent the little guy from saying 'hello' to everyone present. His eyes rove over Steve's face. His lips are chapped and the skin on his nose is dry. The nose itself is somewhat crooked. Did he get into a fight between the calendar photoshoot and now, or did they make the nose straighter for the photo? Why would anyone think it necessary to edit a face like this one? Even with its imperfections mere inches away, it's still the handsomest Eddie has seen.

Steve hums. It's a perfectly preserved vinyl. It's a metal festival. It's Eddie's new favorite song.

"Same size but pretty dilated… Keep your eyes open, please." He shines a tiny flashlight into Eddie's eyes before nodding, satisfied. "All right, looks good."

He leans back out of Eddie's space, returning Eddie's ability to breathe, and removes the gauze. His smile tells Eddie that the bleeding has stopped. As great as it is that he won't hemorrhage to death, it also means their encounter is approaching its end.

"You might've seen me at the university campus?" Steve says, fiddling with some plasters; it takes Eddie's horny brain five full seconds to deduce he's talking to Gareth again.

"No-" Gareth freezes, mouth hanging open. His smugness has evaporated. "Actually, I might have? You're a student?"

Steve chuckles as he patches the last of Eddie's cut. "No, but my friends are. None of them own a car, so I end up driving them everywhere. Right, Eddie, I think you're good to recover at home. Unless you feel like you should head to the hospital?"

Great question! Does he? On the one hand: riding in the ambulance with Steve, ensuring a few additional minutes of his lustrous eyes and smooth voice.

On the other hand: hospital bills.

"… no."

"Okay. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?"

Eddie shakes his head. "I live alone."

"Then maybe Gareth could hang around for the next 48 hours?"

"Sure can," Gareth says without hesitating. Eddie's heart swells with affection for him, despite his (failed! Hah!) plot to mortify Eddie to death.

Steve is already packing his medical bag.

"I want you to rest and avoid stressful situations," he tells Eddie. "No alcohol, no recreational drugs, no driving, and no working until you feel completely recovered. You may take tylenol, but not aspirin or ibuprofen. And if your symptoms worsen or you develop new ones – seek medical attention. Got it?"

The last part is sterner, reminding Eddie of every male authority figure he's strived to disobey during his teenage years. He has no such desire this time.

"Got it."

Steve raises his eyebrows as if to say 'have you really?', and Eddie has to wonder if it's he who seems contrariant and/or stupid enough to ignore the medic or if this is something Steve does with every patient. If it's the former, he mustn't seem that contrariant, because Steve's features soften into trust. He stands, brushing dust off his knees.

"Great. You boys take care now. Have a nice night."

"Yeah, you too, man," Eddie calls after him weakly as he retreats to the blinking ambulance. "Thanks…"

He keeps his gaze on the broad expanse of Steve's back, soaking in the rippling of his muscles as he walks and, oh would you look at that, his ass is as nice as the rest of him. Eddie's been wondering for two years now…

"Dude!"

Eddie jerks toward Gareth. Did he say that out loud? Did he drool? Is his boner showing? But no, Gareth isn't disgusted or disturbed – he's excited.

Shit.

He'll never hear the end of this.

"Don't!" he hisses.

Gareth just laughs, eyes twinkling.

"That was-"

"Don't!"

"I can't believe it!"

"Gareth-"

"You are so red right now!"

"For Jesus fucking Christ's fucking sake-"

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

Dedicated to @rougenancy for always listening to and encouraging my various thoughts, opinions, and ideas (they are constant).

Part 2

AO3

#me combining paramedic!steve with model!steve? it's more likely than you think #no need to tell me i'm a genius – i already know it #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #it's not important but i named the third guy 'marvin'#because i think he looks like one #this is part one out of [undecided]#i'll be winging it in the middle so that'll be fun #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

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