#I would say this got away from me except I knew exactly what I was doing

[void-occupation]

Ok, hear me out (angst, bc of course)

I've been having these thoughts bounce around my head for about a week and I finally decided to post them. I don't know who's going to see this, but whoever sees it needed to. I guess this is for an AU rather than a headcanon, but whatever, just hear me out. I was inspired by The Owl House, specifically Hunter, so maybe that will spark some interest. This is about to be a rant, so I'll go ahead and add the read more thing

Okay, now that I have your attention, time for angst.

SO, in The Owl House, we learn in season 2 that (SPOILER ALERT) Hunter is a grimwalker (a clone of someone who died for those of you who don't know), and that before him, there were TONS of other grimwalkers that Belos murdered for "choosing to betray him" AKA realizing that Belos was an evil psychotic bitch. Also, that Hunter looked the most like Caleb (the dead guy he was cloned of) out of all the other grimwalkers, but he didn't KNOW that he was a grimwalker until a very angsty reveal by his abuser (Belos) who then immediately tried to murder his ass.

ANYWAYS, obviously, as the angst-lover I am, I think about this literally all the time. Then. I started thinking. I absolutely love Alastor, he's such a blorbo. And what do I do to my blorbos? I give them immeasurable amounts of trauma, c'mon, keep up.

What do we know about Alastor? Well, someone owns his soul. He disappeared for unknown reasons for seven years. He is INCREDIBLY anxious about whoever owns his soul - or at least the deal itself (as evidenced by his musical breakdown where he literally TEARS HIS OWN HAIR OUT FROM THE STRESS), and that he's probably going to use the deal with Charlie either for nefarious purposes, or to escape his deal.

Which brings us to the point of this post in the first place (kind of???? I might have just been mindlessly rambling there), and the start of my AU. I'm not going to pretend I know who owns Alastor's soul, but I really vibe with the idea of it being either Lilith or Roo, so that's who I'll be thinking of for the majority of this post. What if the person who owns his soul made a deal with him when he first got to hell (or it could be one of those versions where someone sold his soul before he was even born [a sort of "I want your first-born kinda deal] and they let him know when he got to hell which is how he got all his power so quickly), but he managed to either tick them off or get really close to escaping the deal, which lead to them killing Alastor.

Then, the contract-owner realizes, "Oh shit, I kind of need him," and finds out how to make whatever the hell equivalent of a grimwalker is. Thus, Alastor 2.0 is born. However, they can't have him knowing he's a clone - he might find a loophole in the deal that way. So they find a way to control which memories he has. They replace all of the memories the OG Alastor had up until whatever it was he did to get killed in the first place - don't want him getting any ideas after all.

This works fine for the contract-holder for a while, but then Alastor is back on the same shit - trying to find loopholes, backdoors, ticking them off, whatever, and oops, there goes another one. Well shit. Guess it's time to make another clone. So, the process is repeated, and the song and dance continues. However, it always concludes the same way - with Alastor's inevitable "betrayal". Also, none of the clones ever seem to look quite right - sometimes the eye color is wrong, or the height, the cheekbones, or the nose shape - whatever it is, something is always off

So, after many failed attempts, they decide to take a different approach. When they make the new clone, they give them the same memories, everything is the same as the previous attempts, except they don't turn him loose right away. Instead, they keep him under their thumb for seven years - really just until there was something they needed him for. Those seven years were spent conditioning him. They were determined to make him perfect. After all, this clone was the one that looked the most like the original Alastor, there was no way they would let him go like the others.

In his time at their side, Alastor endured unspeakable cruelties - beatings, torture, extreme sensory deprivation, emotional manipulation, sleep deprivation, total isolation - you name it, it was almost certainly done during that time. This is also when his smile was sewn on because the contract holder wanted him to smile more, and used his defense mechanism to torture him (smiled to hide weakness, forced to smile against his will, making the smile itself a constant reminder of how powerless he really is). There was rarely an action Alastor did that provoked his contract holder, but that didn't matter. They convinced him that each "punishment" was earned, that they were simply trying to help him see his own shortcomings and failures, and to make him better. Obviously, this is complete bullshit. However, when you live like that long enough, with no other influences, you become conditioned to believe it.

Eventually, for whatever reason, the contract holder released Alastor on strict orders to go to Charlie's hotel, and Alastor is doing exactly what they told him because he's terrified of the idea of being summoned back to their side. He hates his contract holder, but at the same time craves their approval, because if they're happy with him, then he won't be in pain. However, Alastor has to Alastor, and once he's on his own, he starts looking for ways to escape his deal - but he's sneaky about it. Years of constant conditioning made him cautious. He has no memory of ever searching for loopholes before - a least not successfully (bc the contract holder doesn't let the clones remember those things), so he does the best thing he can think of: he makes a deal with the Princess of Hell herself.

I'm definitely going to make another post about this, probably detailing the reveal. Not right now though because I have homework to do, and this is getting to ungodly lengths

(if you want to see the next part when I post it, keep an eye on the '#grimwalker alastor au' tag. I might just make this a whole thing if anyone is interested. I'll make it a whole thing anyways because I feel like it and deep down I post for myself, but if you're interested, I highly encourage you to ask about it [I don't bite!!])

[wstviewvidal]

birthday- w. maximoff

pairing: fwb!wanda x reader

summary: misunderstandings can change things.

a/n: hi all! i hope yall are good! i wrote this a little bit after the first part came out. i love angst! unsure if i want a third part. also, if you don’t like this literally don’t tell me because im sensitive and cry easily

minors do not interact

“i assumed you would’ve confessed to wanda by now” natasha says as she fixes a pile of papers on your desk, “you know, since you’re head over heels for her”

nat smirks as you give her the side eye and roll your eyes, you swivel your chair towards her.

“i’m not head over heels for her. i’m ju-“

“stupid?”

narrowing your eyes and tilting your head to the side, “okay, no”

meeting natasha was by far one of the greatest strokes of luck in your life. sure, she could be blunt at times— but when it comes down to it, she tells you what you need to hear.

unfortunately, this was also one of those times.

she has constantly insisted on the idea that you need to muster up the courage to tell wanda about your feelings for her. she always says that she believes wanda feels the same towards you, but your insecurities and doubt always get in the way.

except this would actually be the second time you confess, not the first. not that you even are aware of that fact.

you don’t really recall the first time you told wanda how you felt about her. you were drunk at a party, and only wanda has a clear memory of it. however, out of respect for you and your ability to get embarrassed quickly, wanda never brought it up again.

“i just feel like it’s a losing game, you know?” you say softly, rubbing your temples, “i always thought that if one of us were to tell the other if we caught feelings, it would be her. she’s always been more upfront with her emotions than i have. i think she really only sees me as what we’d agreed upon, nat. what if im just a way for her to pass time?

you pout softly, your emotions now coming forth in front of your long time friend and colleague.

“i just feel like she treats me like a girlfriend some days, and other days it’s just,” you take in a deep breath and groan out of frustration, “other days she tells me about a girl she saw, or someone she matched with on a dating app. do you know what i mean? i get mixed signals sometimes”

nat looks at you with a sympathetic look on her face, biting her lip slightly to keep from saying anything she really shouldn’t.

truth is, nat always had an feeling that you two would end up together one way or another, she’s always rooted for you two. the only way that could happen is if the two of you get your head out of your asses. in fact, she’d tried to get wanda to come forth about her own feelings.

however, wanda was dating someone at the time of said conversation— and out of respect for her then partner, wanda kept her quiet and buried her feelings deep inside. timing has never been on your side, will it ever?

“i don’t know if there’s anything i can say to get you to tell her, but,” she raises her eyebrows and makes her voice firm to try to emphasize her point, “all i can say is that wanda is a beautiful girl who’s got brains and a personality on her. she won’t be around forever. you know you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t at least try with her”

there it is, the brutal truth you knew that natasha was going to throw at you— and what sucks the most is the fact that it’s exactly what you needed to hear.

wanda has had to call off your agreement on a few occasions because she’d gotten serious with two girls; and each time it’d left you sobbing in natasha’s arms in her apartment because you couldn’t fathom the thought of wanda with another girl.

with a soft nod, “how should i even do that? or when?”

natasha begins another one of her long speeches about how you could be losing the person who could be the one, emphasizing how you’d be the one at fault if you let her get away.

on the drive home, you can’t help but replay natasha’s words in your mind, you aren’t sure why they they’re resonating this specific time.

“don’t wait too long, you know. you never know who could come along and sweep her off her feet. that’ll be the last time you have wanda like how you have her now”

those specific words echo in your head as you get home, unsure why they’re weighing heavy on your chest this time.

sighing softly, “come on, baby, i need to get you home,” wanda says as she guides you to her car with her hand guiding you by the lower back. she had your purse and coat in her other hand, ensuring she’d grabbed everything you’d brought with you.

you two were finally at the end of the road, officially a month from graduating college and decided to attend one last party together before you were thrown into the deep end of adulthood.

you had a few too many to drink that night and wanda knew by the fourth drink and the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of her, she had to get you home safely before you ran off somewhere as soon as she took her eyes off of you.

you reached for the handle of the car door before having your hand gently smacked away.

“you know better than that,” she started softly before opening the door for you and allowing you to get comfortable in her passenger seat. wanda knew you hated having your heels on in the car, so she crouched down to remove them before giving you a quick kiss to the cheek.

wanda pulls back gently to look at your face, your glazed eyes looking back at her with a look of.. adoration?

she smiles softly and places a gentle hand on the side of your face, “you’re beautiful”

rolling your eyes and trying to hide your blush, you giggle and nudge her shoulder in a playful manner.

wanda chuckles at how you’re easy to fluster with just two words. placing another small kiss to your cheek, she closes the passenger door.

you watched as she rounded the car and get into the drivers seat with low lidded glazed eyes, a small crooked smile on your face as you watch her. the maroon mid length dress she wore was nothing short of elegant. her curled dark hair and light makeup enhanced her features so beautifully that you feared you’d somehow spill your guts to her if she made one more right move.

but you couldn’t. wanda was seeing someone— granted, it wasn’t serious nor do you think they’d even slept together, but you were terrified of being that girl.

in fact, you were too. you had been seeing maria from your public policy course for the past two months but you could never bring yourself to feel for her what you so deeply felt for wanda. you two had a mutual break up a few days later.

wanda enters the car and shrugs off her coat, her arm muscles now showing even more with the street light illuminating the inside of the car in a specific way. she fixes her hair and puts on her seat belt before she looks over at you with concern.

“you okay, bub? what’s wrong?” wanda asks softly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh as she furrows her eyebrows at your distant far off look.

wanda had no idea what was going through your head, not a single clue as to what was about to come out of your lips.

“do you ever think meant to be together? or are we just destined to be some sort of parallel line that run close but never touch”

a flicker of panic come over wanda’s face and her gentle caress on your thigh stops abruptly.

the air in the car now feels heavier, as if the spoken words have broken the ‘casual-ness’ of your spoken agreement.

wanda always hoped you two would speak about this, but when you were sober and coherent.

it came out of your lips so naturally, as if you’d said it before.

like this has been weighing heavily on your mind for a while.

wanda’s heart clenched, especially at the fact that she had finally realized that you’d been wondering about the same thing she had for years.

“i-“

wanda was completely and utterly dumbfounded for the first time when it came to you. she often, no— not often, always had an idea of what would come out of your mouth.

she often found herself staring at you when you’d speak to your friends from across the room. she’d smile at how animatedly you’d react to people words and how you’d cover your mouth as you’d giggle at a joke someone said. she could easily pride herself in the fact that she knew you.

but this, what you’d just said, had her tongue tied.

she wished you were sober. she wished you were sober so she could confess that she’d been in love with you for so long, before you two even agreed to get into bed with each other. that ever since you two were nineteen during your first year of college, she couldn’t stop thinking of you in a way that friends shouldn’t think of each other in.

but you were drunk.

you were seeing someone and so was she.

so she made the hard decision to keep her silence and take you home safely, without any casualties.

“you’re drunk,” she says sadly, her eyes showing every ounce of emotion going in through her head, “let’s save this for another day”

that day never came.

walking through the door of wanda’s apartment to get into the party wanda said she’d throw you, you’re instantly greeted with a bunch of your closest friends and a few extra guests who happened to be their plus ones.

immediately, you found yourself scanning the room and smiling at the people who were in the space. you could hear chatter and laughter, warming your heart knowing that it all came from the people you knew and loved.

with soft music in the background and the smell of wanda’s cooking, you feel immediately at ease with the atmosphere of the party.

you walk in and are greeted by your friends wishing you a happy birthday. after thanking them and giving them hugs, you find yourself by the drink table to try and loosen up.

wanda was considerate enough, as always, to ensure that the people who were invited to the party were people you could actually stand to hold a conversation with unlike other parties where you had to endure endless small chat that rotted at your brain.

speaking of wanda, you’d yet to see her even though this is her apartment. you try your best to subtly look around the room for any sight of the girl who takes up space in your mind every day.

scanning the room, you look for the dark haired girl but come up short. pouring softly, you take another sip of your drink and go to find natasha who has a look of amusement on her face as she watches you search for wanda.

“how nice of you to finally make it to your own birthday party,” she teases, “you look nice. is this the dress wanda bought you?”

it was. in fact, you’d never been a fan of dressing too girly until wanda coaxed you into letting her buy you a dress, and this one happened to be the most recent one she’s bought you.

she was always a fan of how baby blue looked on you. she liked it so much on you that she took it upon herself to buy you another two dresses, each could be used for different events.

this specific dress fell just below mid thigh and you paired it with a simple pair of white heels. you kept your makeup natural and did your hair, subconsciously styling yourself the way you know wanda would compliment. i mean, she is the one who bought you this dress and threw you this party.

what are friends with benefits for if not that?

trying to hide a small blush at natasha’s words, you nod softly and try to look away to avoid her incessant teasing.

she laughs softly and nudges your shoulder, “i haven’t seen her”

you turn back to her with a furrow of your brows and try to act like you don’t know what she’s talking about.

“your girlfriend,” she says in a monotone voice, as if it’s obvious who she’s talking about.

a small pout forms on your lips as you realize that no one’s seen wanda. everything seemed to be flowing smoothly and it didn’t seem like she needed to go out to get anything for the party, so where could she be?

turning back to natasha and excusing yourself to go grab a quick snack from the kitchen, you turn on your heel to grab a quick breather before having to go back out and socialize all night.

while at the table, you feel a presence right next to you, staring. agatha.

“well, well,” she begins in that tone of hers, “it seems like your girlfriend isn’t yours anymore, huh? is that why you’re all alone?”

you quickly whip your head towards her. not yours anymore? your body feels like it’s gone cold and you can’t pry your eyes away from agatha, almost trying to urge her to say something else, to continue on with what she just started.

“what do you mean?”

agathas’s smirk widens as she realizes shes hit a nerve.

“well, she’s not glued to you like usual. no cozying up, no fetching you whatever you need, having you on her lap. i mean, what do you mean what do i mean?”

patience wearing thin and not wanting to deal with agatha beating around the bush, you step closer to her with a firm look on your face, “where is wanda? who’s she with?”

agatha is caught off guard by your sudden jealous and angry demeanor, she drops the act.

tilting her head towards the crowd, and giving you a look of pity, “sorry, babe. last i saw her she was cozying up with a girl with a green dress. you took to long to get your girl.”

your blood runs cold for the umpteenth time in just the past twenty minutes. it’s almost like your body knew this was coming but your brain didn’t. had you just lost wanda? was it for good this time?

you turn your head to look for natasha in the living room, she’s already looking at you with a look of pity. she nods her head to the opposite side of the living room, gesturing towhere wanda is with a dark haired girl.

a knot twists inside of your chest and it feels like the air has been knocked out of you. it’s like a movie you hate but can’t tear your eyes away from. wanda looks beautiful, happy.

and you hate it.

the two look comfortable together, sitting too close for your liking. wanda’s left leg is over her right and the girl has her hand placed on her thigh.

wanda’s looking at her with a look you believed was only meant for you. the softly smile on her face and the way her eyes drift down to the girls lips makes you sick.

they’re well into a conversation and you can see how wanda is laughing at her jokes, placing her hand on the girl’s forearm as she throws her head back in a fit of laughter.

it seems all too natural and intimate.

every interaction you watch them share feels like a blow to the stomach, the air feeling like it’s being knocked out of you again.

in this moment, you slowly begin to realize that wanda was never yours. every shared moment that you two shared together, every kiss and caress, was just a way to pass the time.

you feel nauseous.

you excuse yourself from agatha and quickly find a way to wanda’s patio, where it’s vacant and you can hide for a while out here.

wanda’s apartment had a beautiful view of the city. you two often sat outside together and cuddled with a blanket and a cup of coffee after work often. you found comfort in wanda, even if you were unsure of what you two were.

she worked hard for everything she had in life and it was something you truly admired about her. she didn’t have the easiest upbringing and the fact that she still remains soft after it all and continued to be a beautiful is something you love about her.

replaying the conversation with both natasha and agatha, you can’t help but feel like a complete idiot as you realize how everything almost felt as if it was foreshadowing to this very moment.

you hear the door to the patio open but don’t turn back, you already know who it is.

familiar soft footsteps stop right next to you and you immediately smell her perfume. it’s the same one you gave her a few years ago and for the first time, it makes you sick.

“you’re wearing the dress,” amusement in her voice as she looks at the city with you, “and you look beautiful”

you smile softly but don’t engage in conversation, just acknowledging her compliment. wanda frowns softly at your lack of attention, not used to you immediately turning around and throwing back a flirt remark at her.

watching you from the side of her eye, she can tell just by your body language that something is bothering you.

you two stand at the patio railing for another few minutes, just in each others presence, until she decides to point out the elephant in the room.

“are you okay?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

wanda’s concern warms your heart, but you know it’s just meant to be in a friendly way. the way she always looks out for you always tugs on your heart strings.

you want to get angry with her. you want to yell and scream at her to get the hell away from you. ask her why she would string you along with pretty words and gentle gestures that screamed ‘i love you.’

but you can’t.

because at the end of the day, somehow you always find yourself back in wanda’s arms and you could never tell her you hate her. it just isn’t true. it couldn’t ever be true.

forcing the emotion down your throat, you force yourself to tell her you’re okay. forcing a smile as you look at her, you try to fake it.

but wanda knows you.

“bub,” with a soft voice, “what’s wrong?”

there it is. she knows exactly what to say, how to say it, and how to get her way.

“i just,” a deep breath, “i didn’t know you’d be bringing a date to the party.”

wanda’s face falters and she doesn’t know what to say. the girl back there was not at all her date, nor could she even fathom the idea of bringing another girl when today was supposed to be about you.

she dismissively waves a hand in front of her as she looks away, almost trying to deflect and avoid the topic, but she sees the way you’re trying to hide your hurt at the whole situation.

she begins picking at her finger nails, a nervous habit you’ve tried to help her stop. trying to figure out what to say, she stares at the ground. the last thing she’d ever want to do it hurt you, and yet here she was.

“she’s,” a slight moment of hesitation “she’s not my date. she just..”

her voice falters and she doesn’t know how to carry on so she just sighs and looks at you with an apologetic look.

wanda looks beautiful. i mean, how could she not? she’s wearing the outfit you love so much. the black pants and white top that you’ve always said makes her look sophisticated. you two always laugh at that, especially since the thought of you two now looking and acting like fully fledged adults is something that neither of you could never wrap your heads around.

“she’s just someone i’m talking to for the night, i swear” wanda fidgets uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. she’s never seen this side of you, the way your hidden jealousy wants to boil over.

you give her a sad smile and just shake your head, silently telling her she doesn’t have to continue. placing your hands over hers, you hold onto them tightly and bring them up to your lips to place a soft kiss against her knuckles.

“thank you for the party, wands”

wanda panics immediately, the way you said that felt like it had some sense of finality to it. anxiety fills her chest and she feels like her legs could give out at any minute. she tries to say something, anything, to get you to stay with her.

but she’s caught off guard and she doesn’t have anything on the tip of her tongue, except for the three words she’s wanted to say for so long.

giving her a hug, you hold her tightly and allow yourself to feel her touch one last time. you want to tell her you love her, tell her everything that you’ve been meaning to say.

but you fall short, like on every occasion you’ve wanted to confess.

you give her a kiss on the cheek and hold her waist as you pull back, smiling softly at her.

in this moment, you fully understand what natasha meant by telling you, “if you’re not going to tell her how much she means to you and you love her, you need to let her go. you know she deserves that much.”

wanda tries to hold onto you tightly, as if you’ll float away if she even let go for a fraction of a second. her heart was racing and she was on the verge of tears.

you release wanda as you take a step back, looking at her face and trying to take in as much of her as possible knowing this very well may be the last time you see her.

“i’ll see you.”

[myfeetrcolddd]

Boundaries? Never heard of them.

Growing up with Theo had desensitized you to things, like how he was always holding your hand, or how he insisted on cuddling anytime you were to sit down on a couch together, or how he would kiss you on the cheek hello or goodbye, except the kiss was hardly on your cheek and right at the corner of your mouth.

Sure, you were aware how the relationship between the two of you was not the average one of two best friends, but you didn't really mind it. You had gotten used to it, it felt weird to even think about things between the both of you being any different.

It was only when Theo got a girlfriend did you realize things would have to change, much to your dismay, and to Theo's too apparently.

"What'd you mean I can't hold your hand anymore?" Theodore looked taken nearly offended as he said those words, his face twisting in confusion and distaste.

"Theo, you have a girlfriend now." You say, wrapping your arms around your middle uncomfortably. "We can't just hold hands all the time, or at all."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Next thing I know you're going to tell me we can't cuddle during movie nights or when I sleep over."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you!" You exclaim, tired from having to reiterate the same thing over and over. "And from now on we shouldn't even be sleeping in the same bed at sleep overs, if your girlfriend would even be comfortable with us having sleepovers"

"You're being ridiculous, Angel, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

"I'm being serious, Theo, I'm setting boundaries now that you've got a girlfriend, and another thing on that list is calling me Angel." Theodore frowned harder(if that was even possible) looking taken aback by your words and down right offended.

"Boundaries? Not calling you a name I've called you since we were kids?" Theo took a step closer, which was really a problem since he had already been to close to begin with. Now he towered over you more than usual, bringing his hands up he rested them on your neck, his thumbs coming up over your jaw as he held your face close to his. His eyes were narrowed and scanning your face as though looking for something, "Has someone casted a charm on you? Maybe some potion. Either way, you're being weird and I don't like it."

"I'm being weird?! I'm not being weird!" You insisted, and you knew you should shove his hands off you, push him away or take a step back...but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You'd always liked his touch much more than a friend should. "Y-you're the weird one! Thinking we could continue as we are while you have a girlfriend."

"Why would we change anything?" He asked, as though he was truly confused. "I like the way things are between us."

"Well I can't imagine your girlfriend likes the way things are. I'm sure that if I had a boyfriend he wouldn't like how things are." You had mumbled the last part under your breath, an after thought to your previous sentence, still Theo heard it and his confusion and annoyance turned to something darker.

"Boyfriend?" He questioned, his voice low and more gravely that usual. "What's you having a boyfriend got to do with anything? You, you don't have one do you? No boy here is good enough for you, and I wouldn't change my ways for some sleaze like him."

Theos words had been harsh, a sharp edge to them as he spoke, he'd never spoken like that before, at least not to you. It was odd, he seemed mad at the thought of you having a boyfriend, outraged even, the emotions just simmering beneath the surface.

"No, Theo, I don't have a boyfriend," He looked to deflate a little at this, relaxing slightly, "It's not like I could have gotten one anyway, everyone thought we were dating from the way we acted, and it didn't help that you practically growled at any guy that would try to come up to me." You scoff, annoyed but Theo seemed the opposite, his lips quirking up in a small smirk.

"Was that so bad though? It's not like any of them were good enough for your attention anyways." His hands slid from your neck down to your waist as he seemed to pull you closer.

"Look, we're getting off track. We need to set some boundaries." You press your hands against his chest and push him off you gently, he seems to allow this and walks back a few steps before taking a seat on the edge of your bed and staring up at you. You blushed slightly from the way he was looking at you.

Theo groaned and rolled his eyes, "I still don't see why we need those."

"Because you have a girlfriend for crying out loud!" You say, exasperated form having to repeat yourself, "How would you feel if your girlfriend, the girl you like, had a friend that was overly touchy and clingy and borderline cheating on you with him?"

This seemed to stump him, "The girl I like?" He muttered to himself, then his eyes trailed back to you and his jaw clenched. "No...no I wouldn't like that at all."

"See! That's what I mean. That's likely what your girlfriend is feeling about how we are with each other." But Theo didn't seem like he was really listening at this point.

Inside his head, a switch had flipped for him and he realized something. His eyes widening, lips parting, and cheeks heating up slightly and he turned to look up at you through his eye lashes.

"Shit." He murmured, staring at you and his pupils seemed to dilate. It was like he was seeing you in a whole new light, you were as beautiful as you ever were, the same angel he thought you were all those years ago, but now he realized it was so much more than looked with you. And he was stupid to think this was how best friends were with each other.

Really, could he be any more daft? Standing up, he stalked towards you, like a predator hunting it's prey. He didn't stop until he was closer than before, his hands cradling your head on each side and pulling you close.

His face was right above yours, your noses nearly touching and your breaths mingling. "I'm an idiot." He muttered, his eyes getting lost in yours. "A stupid and blind idiot." His forehead dropped down to yours and he closed his eyes. "And I'm sorry."

Before you could register what was going on his lips were on yours, his hands holding your head tightly against his as he kissed you. You had tried your best not to give in, but you couldn't help yourself because it was the one boy you had liked all your life, finally kissing you, and like his life depended on it at that.

So, you kissed him back, arms twining around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer. One of your hands threaded through the hair on the back of his head and you gripped it tightly and he groaned before kissing you harder.

Then, as fast as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away, cheeks blotchy and red and pupils so big you could hardly see the blue green color of his eyes. "I'm going to fix this. Then I'll be right back." He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, "Don't leave." And then another kiss and then he was gone, your dorm door slamming shut behind him as you stood in stunned silence.

A hand lifted to your face and I gently touched your lips, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and your mind was reeling. That wasn't how things were supposed to go...at all.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

[munsster]

dull domestication

A/N: s4 steve is WAY too babygirl like what am i supposed to do. he is literally begging to be domesticated. (gif creds: @emziess)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and a sleepy Steve have a very domestic conversation about the future. 0.9k words

Warnings: domestic fluff, talk of pregnancy/children, cuddling, pet names (daddy /j, baby, honey), cursing

Steve's hair is mussed when he reenters the living room from the kitchen. You're not sure what exactly he got up to in there besides dishes, but you're sure he looks even more tired than when he left. And now, he's a heat seeking missile for your lap.

"Tired, honey?" you whisper just to see him nod and close his eyes halfway to the couch. And when he finally reaches you, he spreads his body weight completely atop yours, ear pressed to your heart and cheek smushed against your sternum.

He hums with your lithe fingers sweetly combing through his hair.

"Fuckin' exhausted. Don't even get me started on my shift," he grumbles.

"What happened on your shift?"

He sighs long and hard, rumbling your chest. It takes everything in you not to laugh at how it even shakes the couch a little.

"Robin ditched halfway through to go on a date with Vickie"—he mocks—"and I forgot my lunch."

"Aw, baby, you know I would've brought it to you."

"Don't feel bad, I only didn't call because I worked through my entire break because no one was there to remind me that I even had a break. Stupid. If I hadn't just gotten a raise, I fuckin' swear."

With every second, he seems to sink further into your embrace, bones becoming goo the longer he crushes you into the cushions. Even with the air running and the night chill cooling the house, he stills runs hot like an oven. If you held your breath, you could probably hear his veins humming to produce all that heat.

"I knew I should've visited today. I had a feeling," you say, fingertips soft on the back of his neck. He hums, pushing his hands up your sides and taking your top with them.

"I like when you visit me, baby," he says, "makes me happy. And way more productive."

"Except for the twenty minutes we spend doing nothing."

"Hey, we don't do nothing."

"Oh, sorry, the twenty minutes we spend staring into each others eyes and making out. How could I forget?"

"Dunno," he shrugs, hands now snug up underneath your shoulder blades. "You ever think about kids?"

"Like how loud and obnoxious they are? Yeah, sometimes."

"Yeah, that." But you know that's not all because his brow furrows, his face taut against your chest. He takes a deep breath and shivers when you dip your fingers into the neck of his shirt. "But also about how cute ours would be."

Fuck. For all the shit running through his mind, you're shocked that's all he let out. How cute your kids would be. You and Steve. Cute kids? No doubt. Have you seen his eyes? Of course they'd be cute. You just can't beleive he said it out loud. Like the though of getting older and settling down never crossed his mind as a kind of threat. Like that's the natural course of action for two young adult lovers. You've talked about marriage, sure, but children is a whole new ballpark.

"Honey?" he coos, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "Did I scare you?"

"No. No, no. Just... hadn't really thought of it.

But I agree. Our kids would be cute. Loud and obnoxious and cute."

Your heart gives you away, pounding hard against his cheek and against your will. It makes him blush to hear you say it. Makes him a little embarrassed he said anything at all. But, they'd be pretty cute, wouldn't they?

"We don't have to talk about it," he whispers. You look down at him, pushing all of his hair up past his hairline and covering it up until he looks hairless and then letting it all flop down in his face.

"It's okay, we can talk about it," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his forehead and pull away with a smile. 

"I hope they have your eyes," he says.

"No way, you've got stunners. They better have yours, daddy," you say, grinning wickedly.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, daddio, better get used to it if you want to father our annoying yet gorgeous children."

He goes bug-eyed, staring you down in the dark, and then squinting when you cover your face to laugh.

"Not funny."

"I'm sorry! You should've seen your face, baby. Just a teensy weensy bit funny."

"You're my number one enemy right now."

"Fine, no babies for you."

Steve rucks up your shirt with haste, swiping his hand over your tummy before pressing his wet lips to the hot skin. And blowing a raspberry onto it.

"Steven! Get off of me!" you shout. He takes a very minor beating to his upper back before he laughs and wipes his mouth on his sleeve and settling his head back on your chest. You rub circles over the muscle you had attacked, whispering an apology and rolling your eyes. 

"Okay, I hope they have your nose."

"I do have a great nose," you tease.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"I hope they all get a good mix of everything. Little franken-babies."

"I hope so, too. All six of them."

"Six??"

"Sorry, did you want more?"

"More???" you gasp. He chuckles.

"I'm kidding," he teases, plucking at the edge of your tee. "Six is the perfect number." You'd definitely be discussing that number later on.

stranger things masterlist

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Can Help With That

rockstar!Eddie x bestie!fem!virgin!reader

summary: Eddie catches you reading fanfiction about him and decides to let your experience the real thing

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

not proofread!

It wasn’t a secret that you had a huge crush on your best friend Eddie. You had been in love with him since you were kids and everyone knew. Well, everyone except Eddie, but he wasn’t exactly the most observant so you couldn’t blame him.

And you didn’t want him to know anyway. That was something you were going totally take to your grave. The whole thing was just so embarrassing for you and he definitely wasn’t the commitment kind of guy anyway. He usually just fucked women and let them leave, not wanting any attachment to them.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him since he was always traveling and didn’t have time for a relationship. And hey, the guy was only human. What was he supposed to do? Be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women and not sleep with them when they offered?

You honestly weren’t sure how you came across it. You were just browsing the internet, looking to read about someone else when his name popped up. You were curious to say the least. You had no idea that people even wrote about Eddie in that way and thought it was hilarious, so obviously, you had to read it.

Then it got to the point where you were reading it every day, trying to find the best one to show him. What started out as a joke actually became not as much when you were actually enjoying what you were reading. You started imagining what it would have been like to actually be with him and it was getting out of hand.

You sat at your computer, another fanfiction pulled up and this one was different from the others. It wasn’t no longer soft and sweet. It was dirty. It was sexual with everything described on the page. You had read that kind of stuff before, but not about Eddie. Not about your best friend.

You were really getting into when you heard the door to your room open. You quickly minimized the page and turned to Eddie who looked almost unreal like always. With his leather jacket over his white t-shirt which was tucked into a pair of very ripped jeans that gave you a perfect view of his perfect thighs that you desperately wanted to get your hands on.

“What were you doing?” He asked, suspicious and you just put on a smile, trying to play it off.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, but Eddie just made a beeline for you. He spun your chair around and moved his hand to the mouse but you got there quicker, closing out the page completely.

“Oh, you silly girl,” he laughed. “You seemed to have forgotten that I can see your browser history.” He reached for the mouse and you grabbed it, holding it out of his reach as you rolled your chair away, the back of it eventually hitting the wall.

Eddie stepped over to you, resting his hands on the arm rests as he leaned so close to you that you could smell his breath. He looked like he was leaning in and you closed your eyes in anticipation only to open them and find Eddie at the computer, opening the last tab you had opened. You rolled your chair over, accepting defeat as you covered your face in embarrassment.

Eddie was a little shocked when he opened the page, but honestly wasn’t surprised. You read smut all the time. But wait a minute, was that his name? There it was again! You were reading smut about him? Since when?

“Why are you reading fanfiction about me?” The question wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything.

“I was going to read about someone else, but then I saw your name and got curious. And then I was so determined to find one to read to you, but none of them seemed good enough.” Eddie knew he should’ve been weirded out, but he honestly just thought it was funny.

“So you’ve read these before?” He turned his face back towards the screen to read a little more.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But none like this, though.”

“Right,” he winked. “Of course not. But you like these though, huh?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” You did. Maybe a little too much.

“Do they get you hot?” His question caught you off guard, making you blush.

“What?”

“I bet they make you wet, huh?” How did he know that? It was as if he was psychic.

“Well-”

“Relax, babe. I’m just kidding.” You let out a sigh of relief. You’d die of embarrassment if he had actually been asking you that.

“Oh.”

“Unless they do actually make you wet.” You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Um, maybe a little.” He just chuckled and leaned forward so his lips were right by your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to do this kind of stuff with me, all you had to do was ask.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Really?” You didn’t quite believe him.

“Sure. Why read it when you have the real thing right here?”

“Eddie, this isn’t funny. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’d rather you just leave.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’d love to give you the real thing if you’d let me.” He was being serious. He was actually offering to have sex with you and actually seemed enthusiastic about it. Was this all just some very real dream you had entered?

“You would?”

“If you want to.”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve just-I’ve never done anything before,” you reminded him and he just nodded.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” He stood up, but you grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“Please fuck me!” Your words came out much more needy than you intended and Eddie just looked at you with wide eyes before a smile broke out on his face.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“And you can back out at any point.”

“I know.” He bent over the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests again. His face was so close to yours that you could make out every single detail. God, he was beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie reached up and pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb and let it settle back into place before, leaning in, pressing a featherlight peck to your lips before pulling away.

“What was that?”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’m just warming you up.” He leaned in again and pressed another peck to your lips. Another. Another until he slotted his lips between yours, capturing them in the softest, sweetest kiss.

Assuming that he was uncomfortable leaning over like that, you stood up from the chair and wrapped your arms around his neck before going in for another kiss. It was like none you had ever experienced before. It was like he put full thought into each one, trying to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his tongue licked along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around yours. It felt so good and you were surprised that you were already aroused when he hadn’t even done anything.

A sound that was foreign to you escaped your mouth and you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your lips to cover them in embarrassment. Eddie just laughed and pulled your hand away.

“There’s not need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Make as much noise as you want. In fact, I’d prefer it.” When you still looked unsure, he continued. “I’m serious,” he pecked your lips once more. “Be as loud as you want. There’s no such thing as being too loud.”

“So, you want me to make the noise again?”

“I’d actually prefer it.” With that, Eddie’s lips were on yours again and he took no time to stick his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. You didn’t hold back that time, letting the moan fully escape your lips and felt Eddie’s boner against you as he pulled you closer.

His hands traveled down your back and slowly moved up your hoodie as he tested the waters to see if it was okay. Once you didn’t say anything, his hands moved up even more to your bra that he realized wasn’t there. The idea of you not wearing one made him even more hard and he decided that he needed to see your tits for himself.

He slowly lifted the bottom of your hoodie and you lifted your arms up so he had so trouble removing it. He let out a gasp as your hoodie hit the floor as he took in your naked upper half. He had really been missing out. God, you were so fucking perfect.

“Christ. You’ve been hiding these from me all this time?” He reached up to touch them, taking them in his hands before giving them a squeeze.

“Well, it’s not exactly normal to show your best friend your tits, is it?”

“And yet, here we are,” he smirked.

“Eddie, our friendship has never been normal.”

“That’s true. But seriously, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” you nodded and it made him even more hard knowing that you were so confident in yourself. Soon, his lips were back on yours again, this time more rough as he took what he wanted from you.

His thumbs moved your nipples in a circular motion and you let out a moan at the foreign feeling.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you told him and he continued, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds fall from your lips. His lips moved to your neck as he slowly laid you down on the bed, removing his jacket and shirt as he did so.

He attached his lips to yours once again, this kiss slow and sloven, as if he had all the time in the world, and you supposed he did. He brought your bottom lip between his and gave it a little suck, causing you to let out a whimper and you to get even more wet. Once he realized you liked it, he did it again, harder that time before taking it between his teeth and biting down gently.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “More.” He bit down even harder and you let out your loudest moan. As he bit and sucked your lip, his hand traveled down to your sweatpants. He slowly stuck his hand down the front of them, on the hunt for your pussy.

Once he found it, Eddie’s fingers lightly grazed it, warming you up for the main event. He slowly stuck two fingers inside of you and your back arched in pleasure, your eyes closing tight.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were your moans and the squelching of your slick as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt. You were already experiencing more pleasure than you ever had and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“You like that, hon?” He asked as he pumped a little faster.

“So good, don’t stop.” He hooked his finger and found just the right spot, causing your legs to stretch out at the pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

Just as you said the words, you reached your first climax, screaming his name as you did so. Eddie removed his fingers from you and you sat up just in time to watch him slowly lick your slick from his fingers.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Taste so good, sweetheart.”

“You can have another,” you told him, your confidence building.

“You let me finger you and now you’re going to let me eat you out? Well, sugar. It must just be my lucky day.” Eddie lowered himself onto his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you with him.

With your permission, he pulled down your pants and let out a dramatic gasp at the wet patch on your underwear. He then removed those as well and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“You did all of this for me?” He gasped. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” He draped a leg over each shoulder and pressed open mouthed kisses to your thighs, not wanting them to feel left out before he inhaled your scent, desperate for a taste. “You look good enough to eat and I’m starving.”

Eddie let his nose brush your cunt as he dove in and you let out a gasp, gripping the comforter underneath you as you got used to the foreign feeling. He then slowly licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, eliciting a whine from you.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned and Eddie pulled away for a second, just so he could speak to you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned his voice all raspy, making you even more wet. “Swear I could do this all day.” He went in for more and licked and sucked as your back arched in pleasure, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped up every single bit of your slick.

His teeth grazed just the right spot and you swore that your vision went hazy at the pure euphoria you were experiencing. Was it always like that or was Eddie just that good? You were pretty sure it was the latter.

Your thighs pressed against his head as Eddie stuck his tongue fully inside you and your hands moved to his hair as you reached yet another orgasm, but he wasn’t done just yet.

His tongue swirled around your cunt and you yanked on his hair in reaction to the feeling. You hadn’t experienced anything like it and were sure that you definitely wanted him to do it again. It was too good to just pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Right there.” He hit just the right spot to make a mewl fall from your lips and you fell back onto the mattress as you came down from your climax. Eddie gave your cunt one last lick before pulling his face away, the entire thing soaked in your slick, but he didn’t care. He’d be happy to lick it all up just to get another taste of you.

“God, could eat you for hours, baby. You taste heavenly.”

“Need your cock,” you said through labored breaths and Eddie was surprised. He thought you’d need a little break before you were ready.

“Baby, we just-”

“Eddie,” you said through grit teeth. “I need you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled a condom from his wallet and quickly removed his jeans and underwear before rolling the thing onto his cock. He then lined himself up with your cunt and slowly inserted himself, both of you letting out moans at the sensation.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you since it was your first time and as good as it felt, you needed more. He wasn’t moving fast or harder enough.

“Harder,” you told him and he kept going slow, unsure of that was the right move for you. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on your first time.

“Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure. Fuck me hard.” With that, Eddie pounded into you and you mewled in reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Oh my god-fuck.”

“That’s it, honey,” Eddie responded. “Look at you, taking me so well. Look like a fucking princess underneath me.”

He continued to pound into you and the moans that left your mouth were enough to make him the hardest he had ever been. None of the other women he had fucked had been nearly as responsive to his moves as you had. You ate up every single thing and he loved that about you. That you took whatever he gave you and was nothing but grateful for it.

“Fuck, feel so good, princess,” he moaned, grabbing the onto your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he had more access to your pussy.

He thrusted and thrusted, eventually moving the fastest and hardest he could and that seemed to satisfy you. In return, Eddie was eating up all of your reactions, loving to hear your moans, desperate to have a recording of them because of how lovely they sounded.

Once you both reached your climaxes, Eddie pulled out of you and made you go pee while he disposed of the condom. He then joined you in the bathroom and the two of you got into the bed, not even bothering to put your clothes back on.

Eddie laid next to you and pulled you to him, bare skin to bare skin and pushed some your baby hairs off of your sweaty forehead. He then pressed a kiss to it and moved all the way down until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

He then pressed his forehead to yours, his brown eyes boring into yours. His hand moved leisurely up and down your arm and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“What if I told you that I wanted to do that more often?”

“I’d totally let you.” If it was anything like you had just experienced, you’d let do it anytime he wanted.

“Well, what if I told you that I wanted you to be the only person that I slept with?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” What ever he was suggesting, you were down for.

“No, more like a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of thing.”

“I’d love that.” You rolled on top of Eddie and peppered his face in kisses while he let out numerous giggles. You then pulled him in for a kiss that left him breathless to solidify your relationship status. The first of many that night and for the rest of your lives.

[crownofgildedlilies]

sick days

pairing: aged up!bakugou x reader summary: Katsuki is sick, which means forcing him to slow down. wc: 1.9k event masterlist

You should have known you were in for trouble the moment you woke up. 

While you were waiting until the very last second until your alarm sounded to get up, the other half of your shared bed was suspiciously empty. A box of cold medicine still sat on the bedside table where you had placed it, alongside a nearly empty box of tissues and a half full glass of water.

You frowned. Katsuki was clearly trying to go to work. 

Groaning, you climbed out from under the covers and shivered at the cold air permeating the room. The winter months were only just starting, but they had already brought forth their punishing symptoms. 

Ice, snow, holiday cheer, and—

“Katsuki Bakugou,” You huffed as soon as you found your stubborn boyfriend dutifully going about his morning routine in the kitchen. “You’re sick.”

And colds.

He froze, his back to you, but you knew exactly what expression he wore. He knew he was supposed to be in bed, preferably still knocked out on cold medicine that made the stuffiness of his nose and increasingly frequent cough just a tad bit more bearable. It wasn’t often that he got sick, but in all the years you had known him, it always was a fight you rarely won to get him to slow down and take time to heal. 

Though, when his head had been too foggy with sickness the night before to even hold a conversation with you over dinner, you had stood your ground in convincing him to call Kirishima and swap patrol days. 

“Katsu,” Your voice wasn’t going to be confused with soft, but the use of his nickname seemed to convince him that you weren’t going to chew him out for trying to sneak off to work while you still slept. Turning to face you, he copied your stance of crossed arms and firm looks, except he’s leaning back against the counter and you’re blocking the exit of the kitchen, like he’d try and bolt past you and out the front door. “We decided you were going to take the day off and rest.”

“No, you decided.” His response was quick, but he even sounded ridiculously sick, so much so that he grit his teeth and turned his head away from your glare. You could tell, just from the way he held himself, he knew that he was in the wrong. 

Not that he’d ever admit it.

“Don’t do that.” Dating Katsuki meant calling him on his shit, and it was a talent you had perfected before you had even gotten together. And though the day he asked you to be official with him he had said he loved that part of you, the way his jaw ticked in stubbornness told you that maybe he didn’t appreciate it all the time. Not that you would ever set aside your beliefs to cater to his explosive tendencies. “Don’t turn this around on me because I want you to take care of yourself, instead of rushing into the next mess at half your best.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighs, still managing to sound exhausted despite having just woken up. And you know it’s as close as he’ll get to apologizing, and that he really does mean it, but you meant what you said, too. “You know that, angel.” 

“Don’t angel me.” You snap, a little too quickly, glare mixing with a pout and Katsuki smirks. Because he knows that he’s winning you over with his stupid pet names and even more moronic face you struggle to say no too. 

“I promise I can make it through the day with some medicine.” He swears, and for a moment you want to believe him, especially as he uncrosses his arms and opens them with a lopsided grin, clearly trying to convince you to come closer. “C’mere. Come kiss it better.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes, but your feet are already carrying you across the well-worn and loved kitchen floor towards him. 

Except, you only make it halfway before his body shakes with the force of his cough, and any of your resolve he had chipped away comes back twice as strong. 

You don’t even wait for him to finish coughing, as rude as it sounds, before you knot your fist in the front of his shirt and tug him from the kitchen. Even sick, he could easily keep you rooted to your spot and refuse to budge, but he manages to find it in him to silently admit defeat—a fact that proves to you just how poorly he felt—and shuffle along behind you.

“Stay home today and rest.” You order, still tugging him by the shirt all the way back to your shared room. You only let go when he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and that’s so you could stand between his knees and hold his face in one hand to get him to meet your eye. “Get better so you can kick villain ass the way I know you can.” 

“Fine,” He grumbled, pouting, but his hands still ghost up the backs of your legs in search of familiar comfort, so you know he’s not too chastised. “But ‘m going to work tomorrow.”

Rolling your eyes, you duck down just slightly to press a quick kiss to his cheek. He finds a reason to grumble about that, too, and you’re forced to listen to his complaints that it wasn’t a real kiss while you ready yourself for the day. 

“I’ll be home as early as possible,” You promise, blowing him another fake, long-distance kiss from the doorway to keep from catching his cold. Katsuki seemed to have finally accepted his fate, lounging back against the headboard with an arm behind his head as he scrolled through the various television channels to try and find one entertaining enough to distract himself. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

He would have gotten away with it.

Katsuki was so close to getting away with it, that it would have been amusing, if you weren’t so royally pissed off. 

He had your coworker to blame, when he no doubt looked for a scapegoat for the situation. Your poor, innocent, concerned coworker, who had ducked her head into your office and asked if you were following the incident, a live broadcast open on her phone. 

It only took one scan of the headline for your annoyance to boil over into anger and you to call out for the remainder of the day. 

Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight detonates on burglary ring!

You hadn’t even cared to watch the various clips attached to the article about your boyfriend’s latest victory in your race to the agency he spent his days at. No one even batted an eye at your presence as you swiped the badge Katsuki had given you for emergencies that gave you access to the building—and more importantly, his office. 

Predictably, he was there, sorting through the pile of paperwork that never seemed to shrink on his desk. A consequence of being a top rated pro, you assumed. But Katsuki had a few other consequences he needed to worry about first.

“Bank robbers? Are you kidding me?” You shouted as soon as you slammed open the door. Your boyfriend’s attention shot up at the sound of your voice, eyes wide and shoulders tense, like he was a child caught stealing sweets before dinner.  

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He tried, and the almost nervous, almost bashful, attempt at a placating smile was halfway to amusing. But you were annoyed enough to see right through his flattery. 

“Save it.” You huffed, shutting the door behind yourself. “I’ve got half a mind to yell at Kirishima, too. He was supposed to cover your patrol, not cover for you to sneak out to patrol.”

Though, if Katsuki hadn’t listened to you about not working, then he probably didn’t even tell Kirishima that he was going in. 

“I wasn’t patrolling, swear.” He leaned back in his chair, clogged nose making his voice sound nasally. Sick or not, you weren’t going to go easy on him. 

“Half my office couldn’t wait to show me the newest footage of you fighting in the streets today.” It was a lie, but you felt like exaggerating.

“Really?” Confusion shot through you at the shit eating grin on his face, as if he wasn’t the one in trouble. 

“Yes!” Exclaiming, you crossed his office to lean your palms against the top of his desk, desperate to regain control of the situation you suddenly felt on the losing end of. 

“And you watched it?” He was smirking despite the dark bags under his eyes and the redness tinting his skin from blowing his nose so frequently, and you felt like you were missing something important. 

“You really want to try bragging right now?” Narrowing your eyes, you dodged his question. You hadn’t watched the clips from the broadcast, too mad at him for effectively sneaking out from the bed rest you had forced him into. 

“Angel, you didn’t watch it, did you?” His smug tone was interrupted only by a small cough as he grinned up at you from his stupidly comfortable office chair. Pursing your lips and standing tall, you crossed your arms over your chest and tried to find his angle. 

“Why does that matter?”

“Because I wasn’t on patrol. I happened to be walking down the same street those dumbasses tried escaping on and just helped the pros actually on patrol get them.”

It made sense, considering he wasn’t in his hero suit like he usually was at the agency, but a set of workout clothes he frequently lounged around the house in. He smirked even wider at your frown, and you knew he enjoyed watching you piece together the fact that he was right. 

“Okay,” You scrambled to find the upper hand in the conversation. “But you weren’t supposed to leave at all.” 

“Right, fine.” He huffed, his previous air of superiority quickly replaced by chagrin at being called out. “But I needed to get some paperwork to bring home. I was going stir crazy by myself.”

“It’s barely lunch, Katsuki. You couldn’t just relax?” 

“Not by myself.” He confirmed, managing to weasel his way back into your good graces with his charming excuses. Huffing, you make your way around the desk to lean back against it, next to his chair. 

“Well. I’m still mad you snuck out,” You watched as his hands clenched into fists on the armrests at your words, managing to pull a shred of pity out of you. You should have known better than to assume he would have been able to let himself relax after so many years of relentless training to be the best. “But I took the rest of the day off.”

“I’m fine, and all,” Katsuki dropped his attention from your face, suddenly finding a spot on the opposite wall incredibly interesting. And you knew if you pressed him about it, he’d only tell you that the flush high on his cheeks was only due to his sickness. “But let’s go home.”

“You look like shit, Katsu.”

“I deserved that one.”

“Like, death warmed over, bad.”

“Alright!” He shouted, though his volume triggered a coughing fit shook his shoulders. 

Snorting, you pushed off the desk and made your way towards the exit, waving over your shoulder for him to follow you. With a frown, he grumbled something akin to ‘bet you’re happy’ that had you humming your one word agreement. 

“Karma.”

[sammyluvr]

my hands are yours — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, injury, canon violence, demons, possession, feelings of guilt, concussion, blood mentions, pet names (honey, baby), no y/n, not proofread, 2.8K words. requested !

summary : sam patches you up, ever guilty, after meg attacks you while possessing his body.

for parts of it, meg made him watch. she kept him conscious as she killed a fellow hunter, forced him to see parts of the encounter with jo and the punches she threw at dean. she went on a chaos-inducing, bloody spree with his body and his hands and she made him watch.

as for the worst part, meg had spent a long while debating how to make it as horrible to sam as she could. does she make him watch the whole while? show him glimpses? or keep him in the dark only to find out later what his hands have done.

she decides that any option would do, so she chooses the in between. for just a moment, she grants sam the sight of you, bloodied and bruised under his body, red on his hands. then it goes dark.

✶.◟

the second sam wakes, finally in control of himself and rid of meg, he’s disoriented. he looks at dean, then bobby. and for some reason you’re not in the room with them.

“sammy?” dean calls out, nose bleeding and bruises starting to form on the side of his face. it all comes back to him and he scrambles to stand up.

“where are they?” he breathes out, panicking already. neither dean nor bobby has to ask who you’re referring to.

bobby shrugs. “they weren’t answering the phone. we didn’t have time to find them before, ya know, you and that demon fucker showed up.”

“dammit,” sam curses, searching his pockets for his phone. he calls you with shaky hands; you’re on speed dial. bobby and dean watch with concern and sam’s face crumbles when you don’t pick up. neither question when sam crosses the room on quick, unsteady feet to grab the nearest computer. he types furiously, and they figure he’s tracking your phone. sam pays them no attention, none at all when he finds your location, or grabs the keys to the impala or rushes out the door.

he doesn’t make it to the car before dean stops him, stumbling a little from all the pain when he grabs sam’s wrist. sam whirls around and almost shoves dean before remembering that he’s injured. instead, sam pulls away easily.

“they’re hurt,” he practically growls, but there’s a hint of pleading behind the aggression.

“exactly,” dean counters, “you’re too freaked to drive.” 

sam looks dean up and down with a quick flick of his eyes. “i’m fine. you’re worse off than me, just– just keep calling them. so they know it’s really me.”

according to your phone gps, you’re only twenty minutes away. halfway through the achingly silent drive, his phone rings. he picks it up in a panic when he sees your caller id on the screen.

“baby?” he breathes into the phone, chest tight and eyes already teary.

“sam,” you sigh out. he wishes your voice weren’t distorted through the phone, but he’s sure he must’ve heard you in worse shape before. you’ve got to be alright, based on the way you say his name. “dean called me.”

“yeah.. it’s me, honey.” he swallows thickly, his fingers tightening around the wheel. “fuck, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, baby.” 

“i know,” you whisper, sounding tired. that frightens him. “but it wasn’t you. it really wasn’t you. i know that now, and i knew it then. you gotta remember it wasn’t you.”

sam has to really focus to keep his eyes on the road. he has to blink away tears so that his vision is clear enough to drive safely. luckily the dark highway is almost completely empty. he can’t manage a proper response to your reassurance, so he changes the subject.

“honey.. where are you, baby? the map doesn’t show anything near you except the road.” he’s apprehensive as he asks, afraid to hear the answer despite already knowing it. you cringe softly, knowing too that he won’t like it.

“i’m in my car,” you murmur. you’re sounding more and more tired the longer he speaks with you. “on the side of the road.” sam doesn’t know what to say to that. it sends a pang through his chest. he doesn’t know exactly what happened, but he can imagine it. he can imagine meg finding you, cutting you off on your way to bobby. calling you and telling you to pull over; you haven’t heard that he’s possessed yet. you think it’s him on the phone. you wait just a minute for him on the side of the road. she pulls over next to you and comes out. most likely, you throw yourself into his arms, worried sick. he can imagine the way you’d cup his face and check him over, asking where he’s been.

then he imagines that meg says something subtly horrible to you. your face twists in confusion. then meg gets really mean. talks like him and tells you he doesn’t really love you, and that’s when you know it’s not him. that’s when she hurts you, beats you into the grass on the side of the road. sam knows that part because, in the glimpse that meg gave him, you were lying in the green, little flecks of red decorating the grass and blending in with dirt. and your eyes weren’t open

so you must’ve woken, mind fuzzy with pain and alone and rattled after seeing sam be the one to beat you until the work went dark. and that means you crawled or stumbled however you could, back to your car. he wonders how long you lay in the grass. how badly she injured you, how much it hurts right now. 

he comes back to you. “okay,” he whispers, voice taut and pained. “i’m coming to get you. i’m… i’ll be there soon, baby. just stay awake til then, okay?”

“i know,” you mumble. “i won’t fall asleep.” a soft pause. well, soft enough for you, but stiff and unforgiving to sam. “how long?”

“just under ten minutes now, honey,” he assures you, cursing silently at the way your voice slowly starts to reveal to him your state. it’s weak and tired and tells him that you’re missing him, wanting him closer, wanting his arms around you. you’re still seeking his comfort.

he can’t bear to hang up the phone, even when neither of you really have anything left to say. or really, anything that’s left you can get yourself to say. for you, it’s because you’re running out of energy; sam’ll feel so horrible, but you’re starting to think his fists to your face a couple times has given you a mild concussion. and for sam, he can’t get the right words out. everything gets stuck in his throat. he knows you don’t want to hear apologies from him, because none of it was his fault. but he’s guilt ridden and a little panicked because you only talk when he softly calls your name through the phone just to be sure you’re awake.

when he finally spots your car, it takes everything in him not to speed up to an unreasonable pace. but he peels off to the side of the road with a screech of tires and a worse than haphazard parking job. you’re in the passenger’s seat; you didn’t even try to make it to the driver’s. the door of the impala hangs open as sam runs straight to you.

he feels sick when he opens your car door, crouching down and reaching with sorry hands for your bloodied face. you look at him with soft eyes and a tired smile that he feels he most certainly doesn’t deserve. his stomach lurches at the sight of your blood and bruises and exhausted limbs.

“hey, honey,” he murmurs the second the door is open and you can hear him. “i’m here, it’s me, baby. i’m so sorry–” his fingers tense up just centimeters from your face. it’ll hurt if he touches you there, so he drops them to cup the side of your neck and shoulder. even then, his touch is feather light, as careful as he could get. “i’m sorry.”

“please don’t be,” you whisper back, just as softly, not as sadly. you’re just glad to see him, comforted to have him back. “don’t be sorry.” you watch him, soaking him and in presence. there’s no fear, no hesitation, no worry to have him close. his knuckles are split from making you bleed, but all you’d like to do is kiss them better.

the absolute trust and unadulterated affection that you watch him with could kill him. he knows that, logically, he’s inculpable in the crime of making you bleed. but he can’t seem to convince himself of that. he’s very sorry, and he’s sorry for that too, because he knows you wish he wasn’t.

“alright,” he breathes. “let’s get you out of here. bring you back to bobby’s to patch you up.” he almost moves to scoop you up into his arms to carry you to the impala, but thinks better of it. instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to an unbruised spot on your forehead. your eyes look a little unfocused and it frightens him. “gonna park the impala, i’ll be right back.”

“okay,” you sigh. admittedly, you don’t know exactly what he means in your hazy state, but he says he’ll be right back, so it is okay.

sam only takes the time to park and lock up the impala because dean would kill him otherwise. he makes it a quick job, and slides into your car’s front seat. the keys aren’t in sight when he glances around.

“baby?” he calls softly, meeting your eyes. you’re already watching him with sweet eyes. you had let out a little gasp of pain when turning your neck to look at him. “do you have the car key?” 

you blink and stare at him for a moment. then you give a quiet hum. “mhmm.” your hand isn’t too shaky when you reach into your jacket pocket and pull your keys out. he reaches right out to gently take them from you so you don’t have to move any further.

“thank you, honey,” he murmurs. he sets the keys in the cup holder, then twists in the seat to get as close to you as he can. sam grabs the seat belt and pulls it across your chest, buckling it and carefully rearranging your arms to be a bit more comfortable. his lips brush over your tender cheekbone, and your eyes drift closed for a second. oftentimes, he kisses you on the cheek or the forehead before bed. your lips too, of course. but it’s not time to sleep yet, so you set your hand on his and give a little squeeze before letting go.

his jaw clenches a little when your hand moves away. he doesn’t want to have to do anything but look at you. look after you. he’d much rather watch you than the road. to be sure your eyes don’t droop too much, in case you come to a bump and it jolts you and causes any pain.

sam settles for driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding yours. you play lightly, weakly with his fingers and it makes his heart ache. he thinks about the way he can feel his heart pound in his chest. it feels different after being possessed, but he doesn’t think he could explain how.

loving you is the same, though. the fact that his heart pounds and pounds for you doesn’t change one bit. you’ve always made him feel like that saying of one’s heart leaping from their chest could really come true.

he has to softly implore you not to fall asleep a few times during the drive. he’s convinced now that you’re a bit concussed, and it terrifies him. no, it horrifies him. that the force of his hands could do that to you. and yet you affectionately fiddle with his fingers like you trust him more than anything.

sam is so soft when he draws you up onto his arms, not bothering to close the car door as he carries you to bobby’s front door. he winces when your cheek meets his shoulder and all the jostling causes you to gasp a little in pain.

and at the door, he pauses for just a second, only because he hates to raise his voice above a comforting murmur around you right now. but he has to be loud enough for dean or bobby to hear him. then the door swings open before he makes a sound, and he sighs in relief. they must’ve heard your car as it pulled into the gravelly driveway. sam ignores them both as he carries you straight to the spare bed, cradling you close and hating having to let you go, even when it means you’ll be much more comfortable on the mattress.

“there we go,” he mutters, half to himself once you’re settled. he feels dean hovering in the doorway, so he turns and tosses him the keys to the impala. “the car’s at the coordinates i left up on the computer,” he says simply, not waiting for any sort of acknowledgement from dean before turning back to you.

he finds the nearest first aid kit, drags up a chair, and commits himself to being the softest he can for you. a hard life has toughened his fingertips, but they are gentle as they erase the blood from your skin and spread ointment over your cuts and bruises. his voice is tender and quiet as he bandages you and says things like i love you and sorry, for the sting of alcohol. his lips are sweet on your forehead. 

“does your head hurt?” he asks softly, already preparing a few pills for the pain. he’s been working in partial darkness to not disturb you.

“yeah,” you answer through a huff of breath, too out of it to lie. your head pounds.

“okay,” he whispers. “we’re gonna have to be real careful. you might have a concussion. so i’m gonna have you take some painkillers, then get lots of rest, alright baby?”

“yeah. feels funny,” you slur quietly, not even sounding upset or anything. just tired, maybe even pleased because you’ve got sam fussing over you in the sweetest way possible. sam’s jaw clenches, but he indulges your tone because you’d rather he not worry so much.

“funny, huh?,” he says as though he’s smiling softly at you. his eyebrows give away his frown, though. “can we sit up for a second to take these pills?” you’d really rather not, so you give him a little pout. you’re just so tired. that look on your face, a little grumpy and stubborn, shows him that you really are a little fuzzy in the head. it’s adorable, certainly, but concerning to him just the same. he slides an arm under your shoulders, leaning over you so that your head lolls lightly onto his shoulder.

sam makes sure you don’t have to exert an ounce of effort to get you up; you lean fully against his body to stay upright. if you thought about it hard enough, you’d certainly be capable of holding yourself up, but he doesn’t give you the chance to have to think about it at all. you’re comfiest like this, so you’ll stay that way. if it didn’t hurt your head, you’d peer up through your eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his pretty face while it’s so close to yours.

he brings his hand to your mouth, tapping your chin gently when you don’t react accordingly. “open a little for me, please,” he whispers. you follow his instructions, just a bit mindlessly because he makes it easy to let yourself be taken care of. he places a pill on your tongue, then grabs a water bottle and brings it to your lips. it takes you two tries to swallow the pill, but the second one he gives you goes down a bit easier. “there you go,” he murmurs, carefully lowering you back into the bed. his big hand cradles the back of your head before settling you into the pillow.

he watches your eyes drift closed before he’s even said the words, you can rest now. his hands find yours.

the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, you know. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are his and only his. so you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and, eyes still closed, mumble, “i love you. i love your hands, sam.”

the hands that hurt you weren’t his. this, he has trouble accepting. the hands that love you and patch you right back up are not only his, but yours too. so he lets you hold them over your stomach when he’s done with it all and tells you, “they’re yours, honey. ’m all yours.”

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Toto’s Daughter (part 1)

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

Most would think that it is not easy to be Toto Wolff's daughter. But that was not your case. You weren't part of the Formula 1 world. You lived abroad far from the world your dad was in. Everyone knew that you existed, of course, but you did your best to make your life as private and peaceful as possible, away from the public eye. And you did it successfully.

When you were younger you often attended races, you traveled with your dad all over the world, you were surrounded by big names, but over time, as you got older, that world stopped being of interest to you. You found your hobbies, your interests and your life, which you enjoyed every day.

When Lewis Hamilton won his first Formula 1 championship, you were only 9 years old. He was not a stranger to you, you practically grew up around him. Your dad held him in high esteem and enjoyed working with him. Over time, for your dad, Lewis Hamilton was no longer just a "driver", he became part of your family. Your family and Lewis often hung out outside of work, going on vacations, family lunches, birthdays, celebrations and things like that.

You had a good relationship with him, he would always ask you something here and there, joke with you, ask you about school, the usual things that adults ask children. That’s exactly what you were then, a child for him. To him you were Toto’s little daughter and to you he was almost like an uncle.

As the years went by, you grew up, you went to study abroad where you ended up living, and Lewis continued to work with your dad and be in a close relationship as before. Everything was the same except you were no longer part of the fast world they lived in.

The media were interested in your life, they were eager to find out what Toto's daughter was doing, where she lived, who she was dating, they wanted to know anything, but you didn't give them any material.

For Toto and Susie's 13th wedding anniversary, you decided to surprise everyone and come to the celebration that the two of them organized for close friends and family in a beautiful villa in the south of Italy.

It's an understatement to say that you stole the show when you showed up. All grown up and beautiful, you have become a real woman. All eyes were on you since even your immediate family hadn't seen you in a while.

You looked like a real lady when you showed up in a light yellow floor length dress (with a slightly deeper neckline than your family would have liked but oh well) over your tanned skin with long curled golden hair that fell over your shoulders. You really were something to see.

“Dear family, dear friends, I would like to take a moment to thank you for being here with us” Toto said moving to hold the toast as he stood next to Susie with one arm wrapped around her. You were all sitting at the long big table waiting for dinner so your dad took the opportunity to thank everyone.

“Thank you for taking the time to celebrate our 13th wedding anniversary with us here in Italy. Susie and I appreciate and love you all very much and there is no one else we would rather share these moments of happiness with than all of you. I'm especially glad that my daughter y/n is with us today, since she's not so little anymore, so I can't force her to spend more time with me and Susie anymore or ground her for not being with us more often” You blush as everyone’s gaze settle on you for a moment and laughter rings through the room.

“And finally, I want to thank the most important person in my life for making me the happiest person in the world for so many years. My rock, my biggest support in everything always and forever, my beautiful wife. I just want you to know that I look forward to every new day with you, that you are my true happiness and that I don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to know. I love you and I look forward to being with you for the rest of my life. Happy wedding anniversary love.” As Toto finished his toast, Susie's eyes glazed over with tears at his touching words, and so did yours.

Everyone clapped as the two kissed. You were really happy for the two of them. You loved seeing them as happy and in love as they were the first day they met and you could only wish you could find someone to love you the way your dad loves Susie.

Oh, what you would give to hear someone talk about you like this in front of everyone. To show this much love for you, to show you off so proudly.

“I’m so happy that you’re here, y/n” Susie said giving you a hug after the dinner.

“I’m happy to be here with you too. I’m having a really good time so far, I think that from now on I want to be involved in these kinds of family gatherings a little more often.”

“Honey, we always invite you, but you rarely come..”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry about that. You know that I’ve been busy with myself for the last couple of years.”

“I do know. Everyone’s been asking about you though. They can't believe the woman you've grown into. Everyone remembers you as the little girl with braces who sat on her dad's lap in the garage.” Both of you laugh as you remember those days.

“If you had walked past me, I'm not sure I would have recognized you, y/n” Susie’s eyes shift on the talking figure behind you. You turn your head to the side only to see Lewis with his hands in his pockets standing behind you and admiring you.

“Lewis..hi” You smile at him offering him a hug which he gladly accepts.

“I’ll leave you two alone to catch up, it’s been a while” Susie says before disappearing to find her husband.

“How have you been, y/n? I always ask Toto about you, but I haven’t seen you in quite some time now.”

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with life, but in a good way. I dedicated my time to working on myself and my career and enjoying myself as well, traveling the world and so on. I can't complain.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well. It’s crazy to me how much you’ve changed. You’re not a little girl anymore that I used to ask about school, you’re..a woman now.” You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes were stuck on you. He was completely stunned by your beauty.

“Yeah, well I prefer to think that I’m more fun now than I was before no?” You wink at him making him laugh. “Anyway, what’s up with you? Heard you’re breaking up with my dad and going to Ferrari next year?”

“Yeah, well you know..It was not an easy decision to make, but the red car was one of my biggest wishes as a child, I think now is finally the time to fulfill it. If not now, when?"

"I understand although it's definitely gonna be hard to let you go." You tilt your head giving him a soft smile.

"I'm never gonna leave you guys." Lewis says. "I'll always be here, one way or another."

You spent the rest of the evening hanging out with friends and family, sharing stories from your life that they were happy to hear. Lewis spent most of his time around your dad, and you would glance at him every now and then only to catch him already secretly looking at you.

You haven't seen him live for a long time, of course, you've seen his pictures online, but you couldn't believe that he really still looks that good live despite his age.

When you were younger you didn't pay too much attention to him, you never looked at him in that way to think if he was hot or not. Especially because when you were younger he was in a long-term relationship with his girlfriend at the time, and after all, he's always been your dad's friend. But now, now that you are a little older, if you wanted to have someone by your side who is mature, who knows how to treat a woman, who is protective of you and who would take all the stars out of the sky, you know that Lewis would be the right choice for that.

What you expected even less was the knowledge that since Lewis saw you again after so many years, he hasn't stopped thinking about you for a second. He couldn't get you off his mind, and you found that out in a very unexpected way.

The next night you got dressed for another dinner and you wanted to ask Lewis to take a picture of you from the balcony of his room because his room had a better view of the sea than yours.

You stood in front of the door of his room and knocked and knocked, but he didn't open. At that moment, something did not give rest to your curiosity, so you let yourself into his room on your own.

You slowly scanned the room and saw that there were clothes on the bed prepared for tonight's dinner, and the door to the bathroom inside the room was closed. You moved a little closer to the door and leaned your head towards it and heard the water coming from the shower.

But that wasn't all you heard. The next word that came out of Lewis' mouth completely shocked you and made you gasp.

"Fuck, y/n.." You heard from the other side of the door.

The short whimpers, long-winded moans, the filthy sound coming from his mouth almost knocked you off your feet. You wanted to run away and pretend like you never heard this because you weren't supposed to hear it in the first place. But then you thought you had heard wrong and that he had said someone else's name because it couldn't possibly be true that Lewis was thinking about you this way. So you leaned your head back towards the door to try to hear something, anything again.

"Oh yes, just like that.." He groaned. "Just like that, y/n"

part 2

[warping-realities]

Parental Pressure 

Eddie watched the personal trainer's video for the thousandth time as he was getting closer to the little gym for his first class. He had snuck out of his house super early and quietly because he knew Nick, his old man, wouldn’t approve of his son wasting time on this kinda stuff. He became a single father really young, back in high school, and now, at 35, he did everything he could to make sure his kid didn’t follow the same path. Becoming a doctor was Nicholas Rousseau’s biggest dream, but early fatherhood messed up his chance to hit the books at college. Not that he blamed Eddie for it; on the contrary, they usually had a solid relationship, except when Eddie strayed from the plans his dad laid out for his future. If Nick couldn’t get into med school, Eddie sure as hell would, whether he liked it or not. And now, with less than a month before college kicked off, Eddie was having doubts about the path laid out for him. So, in a rebellious move, after getting an invite to check out Rocco “Rocky” Mancini's gym, an Italian bodybuilder who moved to the States, now retired and not exactly a big name in the game, who a few years back started hustling as a personal trainer and, according to the promo video on Eddie's Instagram, was looking for young men to boost his portfolio. It looked like that gig wasn’t going great either. The first person to sign up would get a month of free daily training. Perfect for Eddie; after all, a month of training with an expert before college would make things way easier when he had to hit the gym away from his overprotective dad’s watchful eye. Surprisingly he was the first one to sign up! And so, the young  skinny man, with light brown hair found himself stepping into the dimly lit gym at 6 AM.

As he stood frozen at the door, anxiety washing over him, a monstrous figure approached, strutting with swagger, muscles bulging looking like they might burst from the thin layer of skin wrapping them. With a fuller beard and looking at least five years older than in the video Eddie had seen over and over, the guy oozed confidence and a certain arrogance. But those weren’t the only things he was giving off, as it became clear to Eddie when the dude came up to him with a sweaty hand extended to shake, a distinct animal musk dominating his senses.

“You must be Eddie! Nice to meet ya, kid; I’m Rocco, but you can call me Rocky—everyone does. Welcome to my little temple. So, you ever trained before?”

“Ahn, no... I wanted to, but my dad... no, I’ve never trained.”

“Feeling a little bit of Daddy Issues here? Just kidding, son! Where’s your workout gear?”

“I thought, since it’s the first day... I... didn’t bring any...”

“Damn, son, you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve never trained; you don’t have a clue! But don’t sweat it, we’ll fix that! You can wear the shirt; I’ll get you some shorts.”

“I... don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Son, you came here to train, and train is what you’re gonna do. I don’t know what your pops taught you but it looks like you got a lot to learn from me. First thing, you gotta be more assertive—don’t be scared to say what you think or do what you like.”

Hearing that, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the fear and anxiety that had been eating at him for weeks seemed to fade away. He wanted to be there, and nobody was gonna take that away from him, not even his old man.

After hitting the locker room and putting on the shorts Rocco lent him, which were way too big in the legs but surprisingly just right in the waist, Eddie went back to the main room where the personal trainer was waiting for him.

“We gotta fill those shorts, son!”

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Mancini.”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit but none of this Mr. Mancini nonsense; you either call me Rocky or coach.”

“Yes, sir, coach!”

“That’s right! Now, back to our chat, you said you’ve been training for a while, but how long is a while, son?”

That info was totally wrong; he’d never trained, right? But why did he have fuzzy memories of sneaking out to hit the school gym before class during his senior year? If he hadn’t trained, where did those small but tight muscles come from?

“I’ve been training for almost a year, coach, but I don’t think I’ve seen much result.”

“Two more things to teach you, son: first, we’re never happy with the size we are, and second, even so, you’re never gonna downplay your achievements; you’ve done something that most people can’t even pull off. Be proud of that.”

“I... I’m proud, yeah!” he replied, realizing the coach was speaking the truth. He had a lot of pride in what he accomplished, even though he knew he was still far from where he wanted to be.

“Awesome! Now you’re talking like a real champ. But enough chit-chat, let’s see what you’re made of.” Rocco said before putting Eddie through the most grueling workout he’d ever experienced. His self-taught training hadn’t prepared him for this level of exhaustion. After half an hour of intense agony, they took a break, and Eddie tried to recover before what he knew would be another half hour of torture as Rocco praised him.

“Damn, son, all that fuss you had with your pops to come train with me in your junior year was worth it. You’re huge; another minute and that shirt ain’t gonna hold!”

Still exhausted from the workout, Eddie took a moment to wrap his head around what the trainer had said. A fight with his dad...? And training here for at least three years...? No... it didn’t make sense... but then he saw his own reflection in the gym mirror, and he was... fucking swole! And that... that wasn’t just possible; it was thanks to the time he’d spent caring for his body all this while, even with his dad breathing down his neck.

“Thanks, Coach, but I’m still not anywhere near where I wanna be!”

“Well, if you get closer, this shirt definitely isn’t gonna hold. I’ll grab you one of mine, or you can train shirtless until the other clients show up, son. In the meantime, figure out how to get that thing off, but I doubt it’s coming off without tearing. Maybe you should film a video for your social media; I bet your followers will go wild!”

“Haha, I don’t think that they will care, and I feel kinda uncomfortable putting myself out there. So I’ll take the shirt.” Eddie replied as the coach returned with an enormous shirt in hand and offered it to him.

“Son, there’s no reason to be shy about showing off; you sculpted that body for a reason. Don’t tell me that’s another one of your dad’s ideas? You never cared much about what he thinks, and I’ve known you since you were a little brat, fourteen years old, showing up on opening day to get an autograph!”

Once again, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the cordial relationship he had with his overly protective dad was turning into a conflictual one, with both of them constantly arguing about the expectations they had for Eddie’s future, which drove him to practically live at Rocco’s gym, where he helped with maintenance or took care of the place to keep training without having to pay.

“You’re right, as always, Rocky; it’s just that, I dunno... I think this crowd that needs to post everything they do is kinda empty and vain.”

“Son if you don’t show off your gains, you won’t grow your followers, and so what if it seems kinda empty? What matters is being seen. And nobody builds a body like yours without a bit of vanity. I’ll let you keep training; I’ve got a client in twenty minutes. If you need me for anything, just holler.”

“Rocky, I can train better than a lot of pro bodybuilders, man! You know that!”

“Son there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance! You can strut around all you want with your followers, but don’t come at me with that!” Rocky shot back, though he couldn’t hide a smile of approval.

As the trainer moved away to organize things for his client, Eddie focused on finishing his remaining exercises. Kicking off his sneakers and heading to the squat rack barefoot, he stacked plate after plate until he formed a sizable pile that would surprise anyone. But the truth was, despite the insane weight, it was relatively easy for Eddie. Next, he hit the leg press and finished with deadlifts using a bar that weighed more than a baby rhino. When he sat down to do his last exercise of the day, calves, a distinct funk emanated from his armpits, but mainly from his giant size 14 bare feet. Looking at himself and feeling pumped, he couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to shoot a TikTok video. He was in the middle of recording when Rocky interrupted him.

“Damn, kid, you reek! No offense, we all have a little man funk; I know how it is, but clients are gonna start showing up, so take a shower and let’s get to work.”

“Damn, coach, sometimes you’re worse than my dad.” The kid replied, stopping the recording.

“I am your father, boy!” The older man shot back with a sinister grin and a predatory look at the younger man before continuing. “And if you really wanna please your fans, be a show-off; don’t hide your assets, son; show off that chest and those abs, but hurry up, ‘cause this place is gonna be packed soon. We’re not the biggest gym in town by luck, Wardo. This young stud pose might please your fans, but the morning ladies prefer when you play the part of the innocent bambino.”

This time, the wave of strangeness hit Eddie so hard that he felt dizzy and nauseous, exacerbated by the potent funk he was putting off. And for the first time since he stepped foot in that gym, he fully realized what was going down as he automatically took off his shirt and walked toward one of the gym mirrors, a gym which seemed to expand with every step he took, turning from a small studio into a gigantic complex. As his skin took on an olive tone and his dark brown hair curled into perfect black curls, while his nose turned aquiline like a Roman emperor from antiquity, Eddie struggled within his own mind while Edoardo Mancini took control. If someone could hear the debate between the two, it would sound something like:

“Dude, I am... no, we are what you’ve always wanted to be! Pops gave you this chance; why not embrace it?”

“’Cause I... I’m going to med school...”

“You never wanted that; we never wanted that; that was Nicholas’s thing, not ours. This is our chance to be whoever we wanna be!”

“No... we are what Rocco made us; we’re just trading one controlling dad for another!”

“Not even close, dude! We chose this path; he didn’t pressure us! We followed him out of admiration, and that boosted both his success and ours; we’re legends in the fitness world!”

“Rocco was a mediocre pro... he’s using us for leverage!”

“And what’s wrong with that? We’re getting something out of it too! And how is that different from Nicholas pressuring you?”

“I... I... don’t know...”

“Dude, if you didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. Chill and enjoy; besides, Pops already got what he wanted from us. He’s not gonna pressure us to follow in his footsteps. We can be whatever we want: bodybuilders like him, or fitness models, or even kickstart an acting career; and I’m not even talking about porn, even though this big guy between our legs would be a hit. Just accept it.” Wardo said, stroking the giant cock in his mind and in real life.

“I... I... damn... this feels so... fucking... good!”

“Wardo! Wrap it up, kid, and stop playing with that thing; we got a new client coming.” Rocco scolded his son.

“Damn, Pops, another ruined video!”

“You weren’t gonna post that, kid; you wanna get banned from social media?”

“I was just messing around...”

“Kid... you’ve got five minutes to take a shower and get your ass to the front desk.”

“Okay, Dad! Did you hear that, folks? The great Rocco Mancini has spoken, and the good son obeys! I’ll be back with updates soon.” The young man said before stopping the recording.

“I’ll edit it so nothing racy gets out; don’t worry, Dad!”

“Five minutes and counting!” Rocco replied with fake irritation, but in reality, he was puffed up with pride for his son as he headed for the reception, spotting a man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses and an outfit that screamed he’d never set foot in a gym in his life.

“Good morning, sir; welcome to Rocky's Gym; I’m Rocky Mancini, the owner and head coach. Are you looking for something?”

“Good morning, I’m Nick Rousseau, and I’m actually looking for my son; his phone tracker showed he was here just a few minutes ago before it suddenly stopped working.”

“Tracker? Isn’t that a bit much? Anyway, how old is he and what’s he like? We haven’t had anyone too young around here today, except for my own kid, but if I can help you out…”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t know? What kinda dad doesn’t know how to describe his own kid?”

“I... I...” Nicholas replied, his voice filled with genuine desperation, which made Rocco feel a bit of sympathy, but not enough to stop him from making the next call.

“Hey, Wardo... Wardo!!! Damn kid never listens! Edoardo Mancini!!!!” Rocky yelled while watching Nicholas slightly tremble at the sound of that name.

“What’s up, Pops? I’ll get ready in a sec.” The handsome young man replied as he prepared to flex the powerful muscles that no kid his age could get without maximum dedication, watched by his dad and the other boy.

“Not that, you insubordinate ragazzo! This guy’s looking for his son; has anyone younger shown up today?”

“Nope!” He replied, giving Nicholas a quick glance over the shades he was wearing just for style before turning around and finally heading to the locker room.

“Sorry about that, teenage boys; you know how they are.” Rocco said, smiling at the other man.

“I... know?”

“Didn’t you come looking for your son?”

“Son?? Son... no... I don’t have kids... do I?” Nicholas replied, looking both confused and desperate.

“Are you feeling alright? I’m no doc, but I can try to help.”

“Doc... doctor? No... no need... I’m a doctor.” Nicholas replied with more confidence.

“Seriously? That’s awesome! Doctors are always good clients; they know how to take care of themselves.”

“Client?”

“You didn’t come here to train? We’re in a gym, after all.”

“Of course... I came... to train. You come highly recommended.”

“Modesty aside, it’s because I’m the best. I normally don’t take new clients, but we could use a doctor to evaluate our clients, so we could do a trade; you wouldn’t happen to be a sports doc, would you?”

“No, I…”

“Awesome! Just what I needed! But I can tell you’re already in shape!” Rocco said, grinning. “Let me show you the gym. Normally, this would be Wardo’s job, but the kid’s been so focused on his influencer career that he’s slacking here... between us, I’d rather he be a bodybuilder like me, but I think a dad should respect his kid’s wishes; don’t you think?” Rocco asked, and without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Don’t you wanna have kids? Are you single or married? Dude, if you’re single, I gotta introduce you to my sister; no disrespect to her, ‘cause my mama raised me right, but between us, she’s a total smoke show...” And so he went on while Nicholas followed, not realizing that with every word spoken, his reality was adjusting to the other man’s desires.

Minutes later, Rocco stepped into the locker room bathroom and watched his son recording another video, already showered but still unable to shake off the musk that surrounded him, maybe because he was still wearing the same shorts from his workout. He admired his boy, feeling proud knowing all this was his hard work paying off.

When the young man finished recording, he turned to him.

“Wardo, finish getting dressed and come out here for a minute; I got a surprise for you.”

….

“Hey guys, Wardo Mancini here, and I’ve got some awesome news! You’re probably tired of seeing my pops in my videos, but today, besides him, I wanna introduce you to someone else.” He said, repositioning the camera in the packed gym.

“This handsome fella next to my dad is my doctor, Nic Russo, and on top of that, he’s my uncle, married to my dad’s sister. And now for the biggest news: he’s about to be a dad, and he asked me to be the godfather of his boy! Just think about the genetics of that kid with a dad like this and an uncle like my pops. My uncle says the kid can be whatever he wants, but we all know the iron bug is in our blood, and as far as his godfather is concerned, Rocky Russo is gonna be a champion bodybuilder!”

[sanemistar]

TAKE ME BACK

contents ★ ex!geto x fem!reader, angst to fluff, exes then back to lovers, slightly ooc geto (?), 1.2k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. author's message ★ trying a new layout for this one :3 i honestly love this color combo plus these are my favorite colors ever <333

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

seeing your ex boyfriend suguru for the first time after the breakup left you with mixed feelings of both familiarity and unfamiliarity. in terms of appearance, he hadn’t really changed. he looked pretty much the same way as you left him except his jet black hair had gotten longer. however, something about his aura had changed. you weren’t exactly sure what it was, you just had a feeling that it wasn’t the same as before, it was a tad bit softer, more gentle, and it made you feel as if you were being in the presence of a completely different person.

tension began to rise as awkward silence filled the atmosphere around you. it was excruciating and you had a hard time breathing, your heart clenched painfully. you were anxious and nervous.

yet despite all that, deep down inside your heart was a part of you that wanted to see suguru again, which grew bigger when it actually happened, you were quite happy to see him again after all that time.

if you were being completely honest, you had never been able to move on from him. so in other words, you still had feelings for him. and if he ever asked you to get back together, you would do it in a heartbeat without a single hint of hesitation.

you knew he wouldn’t though, and these were only wishful thoughts on your part. because you were pretty sure things between you and him had ended once and for good that day. showing no signs of a reconciliation.

“you haven’t changed at all.” your eyes widened slightly, it was as if he was reading your mind. was it some sort of telepathy or something? you didn’t know. his voice pierced through your ears, and it got you thinking that his tone hadn’t changed in the slightest. his voice was still as soft as it could be.

“you too, sug—geto.” you almost called him by the nickname you gave him back when he was your boyfriend, but quickly realized and changed to his last name. however, it didn’t feel right to you. it felt so forced, simply because his nickname used to roll off your lips ever so effortlessly, your tongue was so used to the sound of ‘sugu’ as it rolled out naturally. so when you forced it to say his last name instead, it came off weird.

suguru chuckled, a somewhat sad smile made its way onto his face upon hearing his last name rolling over your lips. the sound of it felt foreign to his ears as it reminded him that you two weren’t in the kind of relationship that allowed you to be on a nickname basis anymore. it hurt him, and it hurt him deep.

because truth be told, he too, still loved you. he tried his hardest to move on with his life, he went out with many girls, and he even went as far as to sleep with them in desperate attempts to forget all about you as if he’d never met you. but to his misfortune, his attempts never worked out. you were simply unforgettable to him, he could never erase you from his heart even if he wanted to.

he had left his heart with you on the day you called it quits, and couldn’t manage to get it back to give it to someone else.

you felt as if time was frozen, and you were stuck in yet another prolonged moment of silence. with just you and suguru together, no one else.

your mind was constantly telling you to run away, to not look back and leave him behind. that you were better off without him. but your emotions took control over your actions as your heart refused to let your body move, and you remained still in your spot.

“i can’t believe i let you go,” suguru spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever, breaking that thick layer of silence. “i was such a fool, wasn’t i?”

his regretful tone caught you by surprise, you couldn’t believe that it was possible for suguru to regret a decision he made. yet there he was, spilling out his regrets in front of you.

you slowly parted your lips open, thinking of what to say back to him.

“isn’t it a little too late for that?”

that wasn’t what you wanted to say, you wanted to say that you missed him, that you still loved him, that you wanted to get back together with him.

but your mind was too quick to react. you wished you could take back what you said, but it was too late for that.

“maybe… but if i’m being honest with myself, i still love you. actually, i don’t think i’ve ever stopped loving you once.” you watched suguru admit that he still had feelings for you in utter disbelief. it was the last thing you expected to hear from him. how he looked at you while he was talking and how earnest he sounded were enough proof that he was being sincere and genuine, he meant every single word he said.

suguru on the other hand, felt some sort of relief washing over him after finally letting his suppressed feelings for you out of his chest. he didn’t know if he would ever get another chance to see you again, so he was more than determined to win you back. it wasn’t guaranteed that you would allow him in your life once again, but he was still willing to give it his all.

“so please just,” he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath before proceeding. “take me back to you.” it sounded as if he was pleading, perhaps he was indeed pleading. he was just desperate at that point as this was his last resort. but he didn’t care if he seemed desperate, he was able to put his pride aside and show you his weak side. to suguru, if showing his vulnerability to you was the price he had to pay for him to get you back, then so be it.

“you idiot, of course i’d take you back. i wouldn’t want to be with anyone who wasn’t you, i will always love you.”

that sole sentence was enough to bring you to tears because of how moving it was. you immediately run towards him and throw yourself in his arms as you wrapped your arms tightly around him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. his body slightly flinched under your touch, but quickly reacted as his strong arms pulled you closer to him. your bodies were so close that you could feel the warmth of one another.

“welcome back, sugu.” you said in between your sobbing, finally allowing his name roll off your lips ever so easily. he smiled upon hearing his nickname being said as he gave the top of your head a series of small, tender pecks.

“yeah, i’m back home.” he hummed softly against your ear.

suguru had been lost for so long, but at last he was finally back to where he belonged, to you, his home.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies @suguru-getos ( @gothsuguru + @hiraethwrote special tags for you my loves since you asked me about it )

[asumi2020202]

Everything has a Price to Pay

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Daemon's hired men, whilst trying to slay Aemond in his bed, accidentally harmed his wife and his son and Aemond blames his wife for it.

A/n: The 2nd episode of s2 broke my heart. The way Helaena clung to her son's blanket. But anyways, this is something which is somewhat based on the storyline of ep 1 and 2 of s2 but unlike the directors taking out Alys Rivers from the show, I'm including her. Thank you for reading!

______ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ___________________________

All throughout the kingdom, you were known to be the gentlest of souls much like your sister. Though she was naive and all too forgiving, you were a bit unlike her. You preferred knowledge but both of you were kind.

Your marriage to Aemond was exactly like Aegon and Helaena's. To keep the bloodline pure. Except the only difference was that both of you loved each other and that he was not like Aegon.

You always stayed with either your sister or your husband ever since a child. Or sometimes you would accompany your eldest brother, he only had you who understood him.

Unlike his brother and nephews, you didn't tease and harrass Aemond, for you too knew what it felt like to not be heard. He felt as if he could only seek comfort in you and his mother as a child and even now.

When he had claimed Vhagar, he had to pay the cost with his eye.

He realised he loved you when the maester and maids tried to usher you away saying the stitching and mending to his face would too horrific to see for your gentle soul yet you stood your ground and held his hand while your mother pleaded for justice.

You felt hate for your father. For he blindly trusted his daughter, disregard anyone else. If someone even asks him your name he probably would not be able to say.

After that incident in the Red Keep, your half-sister's family fled to Dragonstone.

_________________________________________

War had started. Your mother along with your grandsire, successfully installed Aegon on the throne. Your husband Aemond had took the life of your nephew.

You knew that the House of the Dragon would tear each other apart. With no literal escape.

It was only some days before your child would be born. Having your first child with your husband. The only happiness in this devastating time.

Your happiness has crashed down when you got a raven. Your husband was laying with some bastard whore in Harrehal. The only thoughts you would get were

Did he not love me? He always swore that he would never leave me and stay by my side, that he will be different than our father.

He looked happy when he got to know of our child yet he is laying with another woman.

What did I do wrong?

Why did he lie?

He left you right when the war had been declared and he finalized it by killing your nephew.

Your mother tried to help you. Completely disappointed in her son. She raised him better yet he still did this. Harming her daughter, hurting her emotions and dishonouring her.

You stayed with Helaena until the pressure of it all became too much to bear and ultimately pushing you towards your labor.

_________________________________________

You laid in your bed crying, sweating and panting, while your husband was who knows where.

You held tight onto your mother's hand as Helaena quietly said "A price must be paid for all that is done."

Soon enough your child was born. It was a son. Your little Aenor.

Moonfyre's roar were heard. She could sense a new presence. One familiar to her bonded sister.

You cried as you took your son in your arms, your mother kissing your head as your sister gently rubbed your arms.

_________________________________________

Moonfyre had laid her eggs 3 weeks before your son's birth.

It had been a week since you had Aenor. Since your husband, if you can even call him that now, had not returned. You took it upon yourself to get him his own dragon egg.

As you walked through the dragon pit, you saw some dragon keepers scared.

"Moonfyre iksos daor īlva jikagon va zyhōn. Nyke suggest ziry would sagon wise naejot daor jikagon va zyhōn nykeā zyhōn drōma sir." Said a dragon keeper.

Moonfyre is not letting us go near her. I suggest it would be wise to not go near her or eggs now.

"Dīnagon aside. Nyke shall ūndegon skoros nyke kostagon gaomagon." Came your reply.

Move aside. I shall see what I can do.

As you walked further in, you saw you dragon, guarding her precious eggs.

You walked towards her. She's let's out a small noise upon recognising you. You gently placed your hand on her snout and then your forehead. With her wings she gently pushed you towards her eggs, guarding you.

You chose an egg for your son. Before leaving, you patted her snout and scratched it a bit, giving her some comfort.

_________________________________________

Night had already fallen over kings landing. You were with your son in your shared chambers. He had fallen asleep to your gentle humming.

As you were cradling your son to your chest, you heard the door being opened. You thought it was perhaps a maid but as you turned around you saw the rat catcher that comes everyday.

He was smirking and held a knife. Soon after him, entered a muscular man who had a knife as well.

"A son .. for a son he said." Said the muscular man. "Oh but look there, thats his son." Replied the rat catcher to the other man.

As the other one looked at you, you felt dangered.

"I.. have a necklace. It.. is of great value.." you cradled your son closer to your chest with one arm while with the other hand you tried to open the necklace.

The muscular man simply tore it away from your neck. Fear was evident in your eyes. You took a step back as the rat catcher said

"Hand him over and you'll live. We only need him."

As he approached you, you placed your right hand over your right thigh where your own dagger was kept.

The rat catcher tried to forcefully take your son but before he could do so, you kicked him in his crotch. While writhing in pain, he slashed your arm. The other one was coming towards your son, but as he tried to slash him in your arms you turned around.

His blade dug through your back. Muscles getting slashed. Extreme pain courses through you. Yet you didn't give up. U took out your dagger and slashed his cheek and stabbed his chest. As he flinched away, you took your chance and ran out the room, you nightgown red with your blood.

You didn't know where to go. Time was limited. You could hear faint moaning noises. Cradling your son closer to your chest, with your jaw on his head, you followed the noise.

You came infront of your mother's chambers and entered without a second thought. You saw her with Ser Cole but you didn't care about that. Your energy was running out. A lot of blood was lost. You didn't even know if you would survive.

With your remaining strength you said "Mother". You shakily walked to her and somehow gave her your son as you collapsed beside her bed.

Alicent's scream could be heard from everywhere. She couldn't believe her eye. Her little sweet y/n was bleeding out in front of her. She put Aenor on her bed as he wailed out loudly.

Alicent kneeled before her daughter and hugged her to her chest. Her blanket and body getting bloodied. She cried and cried.

Aegon and Helaena had appeared as well. Helaena couldn't watch, tears flowing from her eyes. She took Aenor as a maid escorted them away to her room.

Aegon rushed beside his mother and sister. Gently taking her in his arms as maester Orwyle came through hurriedly, asking Aegon to put you on the bed.

Aegon very carefully laid you on your stomach on the bed. While maester Orwyle asked them to leave the room, both your brother and mother did not stop crying.

_________________________________________

Aemond had landed on the Red Keep. Getting off of Vhagar, he walked inside the castle. As he entered, he could see a man being dragged to the dungeon. Blood everywhere. Maids rushing around.

He saw his brother. But he wasn't as he usually was. He knew after becoming the king, Aegon had changed, but now he looked completely different.

His hair not brushed. Eyes red and tired. Blood. He was covered in blood.

As Aemond walked towards him, he heard Aegon say to a guard "kill every rat catcher you can find. Spare none."

Aegon looked away from the guard and saw Aemond. His eyes filled with fury. He marched towards him and grabbed his collar.

"Finally came back huh brother? It could've been avoided with you here yet you chose your whore over everything else." Aegon said, trying to keep his calm which is very unlikely of him.

Aemond felt ashamed and confused. Ashamed for being disloyal to you and dishonouring the family and confused thinking about what Aegon was saying.

"Look I'm sorry brother, that was a mistake. But do explain what you mean by it could've been avoided. What has happened?"

"Our sister had given birth to your son a week ago. And today she-" Aegon stopped. His tears flowing uncontrollably. "T-today she and my nephew were attacked. She is badly wounded. Maester Orwyle is with her but he said that she lost a lot of blood. That she was already weak from the birth and now this." With this Aegon completely broke down.

Aemond's breathing stopped. He chose his whore over you. The one who always stood up for him. He felt ashamed. So ashamed that he might sink and drown.

He ran towards his mother's room after Aegon told him where you were while he went down the dungeons to deal with the man who dare hurt you.

As Aemond reached, he saw his mother. Scared and fearful. He knew he fucked up bad. As she noticed him, she walked up towards him, looked him in the eyes and slapped him. He deserved it.

_________________________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, trying to take in your surroundings. You saw your husband pacing around the room.

He noticed that you were awake and spoke. "You're awake" you remained silent as you recalled the events of last night.

"Aenor.... My son.. my son Aenor! Is he okay?! Did he get hurt?!" Your enquired as you suddenly sat up, ignoring the pain in your body. Worried for your son.

"He only had a small cut on his feet. Nothing else. He is okay." Aemond replied helping you back down. You felt relieved and finally acknowledged your pain and groaned.

He didn't knew what came over him in an instance. He felt anger towards the ones who hurt you and his son. He was angry with himself but instead it got directed at you.

"If only you had taken better care of the security, none of this would've happened.." he muttered.

"What?" You sat up again, not believing your ears.

"If only you knew how to fight, this would've never happened! You can't fight, can't run, you can't even protect our child like a mother should!! You should have called more guards!!" He shouted while pointing his finger at you.

You got up from your mother's bed and stood as you held onto the bed.

"It is my fault now?! Huh?! You're the one who's irresponsible. You left me!! You left me and my child to fend for ourselves!! You left us for your whore whom you sought comfort in instead of your wife!! Where were you when we were attacked huh?! Were you fucking your whore?! Were you creating your bastards?!

You promised me that you were different. That you would treat me with respect unlike other husbands with their wives. You said you were different but...... You're just more of the same.." your voice raised and came down as tears flowed rapidly. Your would reopened because of how tensed your body was. Your nightgown was starting to get bloodied again.

Aemond was shocked. He yelled at his precious wife. His gentle lady wife. And she who never raised her voice no matter how angry or raged up she may be, shouted at him.

He fucked up greatly.

You winced as you fell to the ground. Blood getting everywhere as Aemond rushed to your side and gently tried to pick you up but you refused.

"Don't. Do not touch me with the hands that you used to hold her. I may be a woman. I may be the most vulnerable, but I have an honor. Neither my son nor do I need you. I will ask Aegon to annul our marriage. After that you may return to your whore and I will raise my son alone." You said, wincing as pain shot through you body.

Your lady in waiting came in and got you up on the bed and called maester Orwyle.

As Aemond got up from the floor, he was speechless. He never knew one mistake would cost him his everything. The words you spoke hurt more than when he lost his eye.

The entire day those words circled his thoughts.

_________________________________________

It had been a week since the last time Aemond met you. He had went to Harrehal and returned. Aemond walked inside your shared chambers after he got to know that you shifted back there. Aegon provided two guards infront of your door.

He watched as you cradle your son to your chest with your left hand which was fine and hummed a valyrian song to him.

You stopped as you as noticed him. You gently put Aenor in his crib and straightened your back.

"I'm sorry" he started.

"You sorry means nothing to me. You say your sorry now but next chance you get you'll run back in her arms." You spoke, gazing out the window.

"There will be no next time. I got rid of everything that would come in between us." He replied as your body stilled after hearing his words.

"Whatever do you mean?" You asked, turning back to face him.

"I got rid of her. All i now need is your forgiveness. For you to accept me again. To trust me again. Please avy jorrāelan. Forgive me this once." He begged as he got down on his knees and held your hand.

You were shocked. He killed her. He killed her without a second thought. You wanted to loathe him but deep down you loved him.

"I don't know..... I don't know anymore. I want to trust you Aemond. But I can't. I can't trust you. You've hurt me far too much.

It'll take a while to heal the scar you inflicted upon me but I will try. I will try to forgive you." You replied shakily.

He got up and hugged you lightly not to press on your wounds.

"Thank you my love. Thank you" he spoke as he kissed your head.

You gave in to his warm embrace. War has started. But right now you just want to be held.

You would think later of how to punish those who dare harm your family.

Those who hurt your son will pay. They will pay with their life. And you will see to it that they burn in flames. You will make sure that they rot in hell even if you too would have to.

After all nothing is for free....

Everything has a Price to Pay.......

-Lillian

[bokutosbabe]

Having His Baby

a/n — osamu brainrot is actually insane. not proofread so for sure horrible i wrote this on a whim 🫶🏼

content — nsfw, 18+, osamu x fem! reader, breeding kink, goes back and forth between high school and time skip, reader and osamu are high school sweethearts, reader and osamu are married, mating press, cursing, talk of a pregnancy scare, nicknames(pretty girl, nasty girl, baby, maybe more i forgot), daddy kink if you squint, i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — in high school osamu miya knew you were meant to be a mom, but seven years later he’d finally decided he would make you one himself.

✿.｡.“ screaming but daddy i love him! ”.｡.✿

Osamu always knew you’d be a good mom. From the moment he'd met you in the nurse's office during his first year, you simply radiated that aura. Always so willing to help him every time he and atsumu got in a fight or he got hurt in volleyball — you would drop everything to come help him in the nurse's office.

Sure, it wasn't exactly smart to skip the classes that Osamu needed you in, but that was your job. You were the nurse's student assistant after all.

You hadn't gotten the courage to actually speak to him until his fourth appearance in there, yes you'd given him your number just so he could text if he needed help, but the two of you only texted when he was hurt. (you had no idea how many “you up?” texts he had wanted to send to you to see if you'd respond)

It was an accident really, saying your first real words to him. They were simply out of shock as you saw his lip cut open and his jaw already beginning to bruise, "what happened to you?” you had asked, hand slightly grazing the boy's, now bruised, jaw.

That was a million years ago in Osamu’s mind, while it really had only been seven. So much had changed since he first met you, you started dating not soon after, and then he'd married you, he’d opened his own onigiri business, and it all led here — to the two of you cooking in the kitchen. " ‘samu, can you get me a bowl? There's none in the drying rack and my hands are dirty.” your cute voice broke him out of the weird trance he was under as he watched you work. “Anything for you baby.” he cooed as he reached over your head and grabbed a clean bowl for you.

Everything was always clean in your shared home, which shouldn't have been a bad thing— except it was to Osamu. As a kid, he remembered him and Atsumu making various messes whether it be with liquids or even drawing on the walls- their home was very rarely clean. Osamu loved and appreciated everything you did for the house, but the ache to have kids that would make simple messes prodded at him more often than he would've liked to admit. He remembered the first time he brought kids up to you in high school during second year.

“ ya ever think about havin' kids? ” he asked as the both of you lay in his bed, his TV just droning on as background noise since the two of you had been talking the entire time. “Hmm…sometimes. I have dreams that we have kids- twins actually,” you admitted. Your raw and honest confession shouldn't have had his cock stirring in his pants the way it did, “Really?” he asked as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, imagining your stomach all round with his children, not one child, but twins. “Yeah, and they look like you,” you said simply, hands finding their way to his dyed locs and running through them. That conversation made Osamu Miya realize that he would rather die than not have kids with you. (and that he had a breeding kink but he found that far too embarrassing to tell you)

When you press the spoon to Osamus's mouth is when he suddenly comes back to the present, “Open samu, need my favorite person to make sure it tastes good.” you smiled as the man opened his mouth and allowed you to feed him— which only made him think of you feeding a baby - your baby. The male nodded as he pulled away from the spoon, “tastes good baby.” He wasn’t lying, it did taste good- but maybe the thought of you feeding a child made his mind a bit fuzzy. “thank goodness, it’s a new recipe, so I was really worried.” you gave your husband a smile as you turned back around, grabbing the bowl osamu had gotten you.

Maybe it was the high school memories coming back to him, or maybe it was him thinking about how the house was always spotless, hell— perhaps it was because you just looked so cute right now with your apron around your waist and spoon in hand. Whatever it was, Osamu couldn’t help the ache he felt in his pants, coming behind you and placing his hands on your stomach. “ ‘Yer so cute…”

“mhm, thank you, baby. you’re real cute too.” you smiled as you tilted your head up, giving him a quick peck on the chin. As you returned to what you were doing, filling bowls with the soup you had made for dinner, Osamu pressed himself against you, his hard-on very prominent. As much as you could’ve tried to ignore him, your husband always got his way when it came to you, “ ‘Samu dinners ready…” you said as you pressed your back into his chest- face beginning to heat up.

“ it can wait…need you right now-” usually your husband was a kind, patient man (except when he ‘had’ to fuck you in the back room of onigiri miya when you brought him some lunch) “You’d be such a good mommy…so good to our babies.” the male muttered against your hair, grabbing your waist and grinding against your clothed cunt. a small moan fell from your lips, “ ‘s-samu! it’ll get cold-”

It wasn’t like you were oblivious to Osamu's want for kids, in your third year you and Osamu had had a pregnancy scare. While many other 18-year-old boys would’ve probably been relieved seeing that one line on the pregnancy test, Osamu felt some strange emptiness and disappointment. sure, it wasn’t ideal to be teen parents, but he couldn’t figure out why he so badly wanted you to have his baby. It was on that same day that he figured out he didn’t want a professional volleyball career, no he wanted to have a true career that let him be home with you as often as he could be (so he could knock you up.) ever since that day, every time you passed the baby section in a store- his eyes would glaze over and he’d mention how tiny the shoes and clothes were, and you’d talked about kids- but never were you guys actually ‘trying’ for a baby.

“ jus’ reheat it,” Osamu mumbled as he picked you up, strong hands that still hold proof of his years of playing volleyball and now being a professional chef digging into the underside of your thighs. Your house wasn’t large in the slightest, but the minute it took for him to carry you felt like it took an eternity. The second Osamu’s foot crossed over the barrier of your shared bedroom- his lips were on yours. The kiss was downright disgusting, spit being shared as his tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulled away. “ so pretty…” he mumbled as he carried you over to the bed, using one of his hands to untie the apron that hugged your waist in a way that turned his brain to mush.

Osamu groaned as he pulled off your shirt, seeing that you had no bra on, “you knew this was gon’ happen didn’t ya pretty?” he asked as skillfully he pulled his gray shirt off with one hand, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “n-no I just-” but Osamu didn’t want to hear your excuses, there was no need for them now. his hand quickly pushed you down to where your back met the mattress, lips puckering around one of your nipples as he played with your other one. he wasn’t much of a boob man, much rather enjoying your ass, but even he couldn’t stop the images of your tits full of milk from invading his mind. he let out a groan as he looked up at you, hand covering your mouth as you watched him- face flushed in arousal and maybe some embarrassment. “let me hear you pretty girl.” he came up and caught your lips in another kiss, hand sneaking down to the waistband of your his shorts and pulling them off of your legs in one quick movement. if there was one thing about Osamu Miya, it was that he knew how to get you undressed in a matter of seconds.

You instinctively tried closing your legs, but Osamu knew you too well, his knee already finding solace between your legs as he pulled away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you as he looked down at you. “fuck baby…look at how wet you are,” you let out a small moan as he ran a finger over your clothed cunt, your panties becoming insanely wet as you reached down and grabbed his wrist. “please ‘samu, need you…” you begged as you shook your head. “want you in me-”

Now usually your husband wasn’t the type to fuck you without fingering you or (his favorite) eating you out, but right now his cock was begging to be freed from the confines of his jeans. “my pretty girl…”he mumbled as he pulled off your panties, a string of arousal connecting to you, making him let out a groan. “need to fuck ya right now…” and Osamu made good on his word, quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, cock springing to life- making you moan as you saw it. it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen Osamu in his bare glory, it always made you want to thank whatever gods decided you were good enough for him.

You remembered in high school when the two of you had first had sex, both inexperienced as you tried figuring out what position worked for the both of you and accidentally breaking his bed— something atsumu never lets you forget.

Osamu groaned as his tip met your entrance, staring at you with those bedroom eyes that were like a remedy to any problem you ever had,chest heaving as he stopped himself from shoving into you- wanting you to be ready for him. “please samu…need it so bad-” you cried out as you reached up to his neck, moaning as you brought him down for another kiss. osamu miya was nothing if not a gentleman who listened to his wife, pushing into your hole and bottoming out almost immediately, groaning against your lips,“still so tight fa me, huh baby?” the moan you let out was almost pornographic, back arching into your husband,“ fuck! S-samu!” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist.

Sure, Osamu could’ve been nice and given you time to adjust to him like he usually did, but who had time for that when he needed to get you pregnant tonight? The male groaned as he took your legs and pushed them to where your knees were pressed against your chest, making him feel extra deep, “s-samu!” you cried out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “yer so pretty, baby, my pretty girl…”osamu mumbled to himself. he didn’t even give you a warning before pulling out and slamming back into you, letting out his own moan as your nails scratched into his back.

You’d always been sensitive when it came to osamu, but never had you felt him this deep inside of you before, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. “feel me, baby? gonna get you pregnant, full of my cum.”osamu pressed down on your stomach as he thrust in and out of you in a rhythm you knew all too well. you tried answering him, truly you did, but even two seconds with Osamu into your cunt made you brain dead. “mhm-” was the only word you could make, giving your husband a small laugh as he looked down at you.

“Fucked ya dumb already pretty girl? C'mon, know ya got more in ya-” The teasing tone in his voice made you want to cry, but some sick sort of enjoyment of being embarrassed held back those tears. you looked so pretty under Osamu, your wedding ring adorning your finger as your hair was messily sprawled out beneath you with your knees pushed to your chest. Osamu thought he could take a mental picture and have enough spank bank material for three months, at least.

“Gonna cum- ah samu!” you whined out, nails scratching down your husband's back. Osamu let out a groan, maybe he should give you more money to get your nails done, because the short acrylics you have on scraping down his back made him want to short circuit. “cum for me baby, gonna look so good filled with my cum.” Osamu was on the brink of his release, groaning as he brought a hand down to finally rub your clit, giving you the final push to let go. you moaned out his name over and over, even slipping a small ‘daddy’ in the chant of words. With that one word, you made Osamu want to blow his load- feeling his hips stutter before stilling inside of you and releasing his cum. you whined as you felt him fill you up, your husband had always came a lot- but something about right now- this singular moment- made him give you everything he had.

Osamu looked down where the two of you were connected, seeing his and your cum mixing as it spilled out around his cock,“ fuck…” he said as he pulled out watching as more seeped out of your abused cunt. it would be a waste if you didn’t keep it all in, though. Osamu hummed as he fingered the cum back into you, making you let out a gasp from how overstimulated you already were.

“gotta make sure it sticks, baby.”

✿.｡.“ i’m having his baby ”.｡.✿

if you can’t tell, i love the miyas.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

“Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

[milkloafy]

YOUR SAVING GRACE — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: in which you run into some trouble and wriothesley saves you, getting himself hurt in the process. [modern au; suggestive content] ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.4k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: inspired by the wriothesley art where his face is a little bloodied and he’s smiling like that and hmmngfh i want to hold him so bad !! also the title is kind of a pun do u get it ha ha okay pls enjoy :>

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 

Wriothesley chucked, wincing as the corner of his mouth lifted upwards. “Fancy way of saying thank you.”

With a sigh, you dampened a washcloth with warm water from under the sink. You wrung out the excess before gently guiding it up to Wriothesley’s face and dabbing at the cut on his lip. You frowned. His split lower lip wasn’t even the worst of it—he had a bleeding gash on the right side of his temple.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, fingers brushing against the high points of his cheekbone. Such a beautiful face did not deserve to be marred in such a way; he had already been through enough growing up.

“Of course I had to,” he said, your face so close to his that you felt his hot breath fan your nose. “The alternative would have been to let them harm you.”

You discarded the dirty cloth and grabbed a fresh one from the drawer. As you wiped the blood off his forehead, your mind wandered to the memory of the past few hours. It wasn’t exactly a good one, to put it lightly. 

You had only recently moved back to your hometown in Fontaine after spending time abroad in Inazuma, but you quickly found that all the friends you once knew now had lives of their own. Except your childhood friend Wriothesley, of course. Still, you didn’t let that stop you from going out on your own and trying to meet new people, especially now that you were back in Fontaine to stay.

Perhaps, however, heading face first into the night scene wasn’t the way to go. 

You shivered at the memory. The moment you realized you didn’t feel safe being out dancing alone, you tried to make your way home, only to find out you were being followed by some men from the venue. Your only saving grace was that of Wriothesley, who happened to be on a late night tea run. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you said sincerely, though you knew that wasn’t enough to display your gratitude. Who knows what could have happened had he not intervened. “I just hate that you got hurt because of it.” 

Wriothesley laughed, patting your head affectionately—as if the two of you never drifted apart when you moved away. “I would do it again, even if the outcome was worse. Besides, did you see what I did to the other guys?” 

That earned a smile out of you. “There were three of them! And you still kicked all their asses.” 

“Exactly,” he said proudly. “Now, if you look at my injuries in comparison, it’s really nothing.” 

Though the mood was slightly lifted, you still hated to see Wriothesley in any pain. The least you could do was make sure his wound were thoroughly cleaned and wrapped. 

“You don’t have to go through this trouble,” said Wriothesley as you disinfected the cut on his temple and placed a bandage over it. “You must be tired from your long night. You should get some rest. I can always have Sigewinne help.”

You shook your head fervently, almost offended by his suggestion. “You’re in this mess  because of me and you think I could just leave you to get it taken care of elsewhere?” you huffed, squishing his non-injured cheek with your fingertips. “What kind of friend would I be then?”

“I’m not in this mess because of you—it’s because of those lowlives who take pleasure in trying to harass an innocent person,” he corrected sternly. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry you had to go through that yourself.”

Once you finished cleaning and patching him up, you became overwhelmingly aware of the fact that you were standing in between his legs as he sat on the bathroom counter. You were leaning against one of his thighs as support to steady your hand while you wiped his wounds, but now that you were finished, you straightened back up, swallowing harshly at your now dry throat. 

How focused must you have been to not notice the feeling of sculpted muscles through his pants? You were glad to know you had some priorities, at least. 

Feeling warm, you tried to step away. “Well, thank you again for…you know, beating those guys up for me! But if you’re okay now I guess that means it’s time for me to go.” 

“Leaving so soon?” Wriothesley half-heartedly locked his leg behind your back with a grin, preventing you from taking another step back. “Have you checked under my shirt yet? Perhaps I have some injuries there.”

“Wriothesley!” you yelped, feeling your face grow warm despite knowing he was only joking. “You said so yourself— You have Sigewinne for that!” 

He let out a chuckle, as he released you from his gentle hold. “So my dear friend will help with the wounds on my face, but nothing lower?” 

Your mouth dropped, incredulous, yet you felt yourself taking the bait. After all, if your handsome friend with a hot body were to dangle the offer of seeing them shirtless right front of your face, who were you to deny it?

“Fine, let me check for you,” you said hastily. 

Moving his tie aside, you grabbed at the buttons lining the front of his shirt. The black longsleeve was tight-fitted, and the moment you felt his abdomen, you knew there were muscles underneath his clothes. As your fingers began maneuvering around the round, little button, you felt Wriothesley begin to stir. 

“Y/N,” his voice was gruff, “I was only teasing.”

Your brows shot up in surprise at his tone. He sounded strained and his eyes darkened with every button you undid. Your pinky finger accidentally brushed against his exposed pectoral muscles as you slowly parted the top-half of his shirt. At the touch of his warm body, you jolted in shock. 

Clearing your throat, you attempted to appear unfazed. “Well, sometimes your actions have consequences.” 

“I must say, this is quite a positive consequence.” 

“You’re one of the lucky ones this time.”

Wriothesley laughed, shaking his head. All of a sudden, he grasped your hand that was trailing down his shirt, stopping you from moving. You held your breath.

“Careful not to go any lower,” he warned, the slightest hint of a growl in his voice. 

“And if I do?”

“If you want our friendship to stay as is, then I suggest you don’t.” He stared into your eyes, his gray ones appearing almost black. “Before this leads to something you might regret.”

“I wouldn’t regret if this lead to anything,” you admitted, voice quiet. Gone was the playful teasing, traded for something much more sincere. “Would you?”

“Of course not.”

You raised a brow and broke your hand free from his gentle grasp, placing your palm against the heat of his bare skin. Your fingertips danced against the curve of his chest as you pushed the shirt back, just to check if he had any injuries there, of course. 

Wriothesley shook his head and groaned, running a hand through his hair as he shut his eyes. “You’re making this difficult, darling.” 

You giggled, letting your hand fall to your side and giving him a cheeky smile. “Fine, I’ll stop for now. You don’t have any injuries there anyway. I checked for you.” 

He had a conflicted look on his face—as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be relieved or disappointed. 

You grinned at his reaction. “Perhaps you want me to look again?”

Wriothesley choked out a noise of both surprise and amusement before collecting himself. “I believe your initial examination was thorough enough, but after you have a good night’s rest, then we can revisit this topic.” 

Though you were disappointed the two of you didn’t take it further yourself, you knew he was probably right. You did feel rather tired after the draining night you had. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” you conceded, offering him a hand as he got off the countertop. Even standing, he was significantly taller than you. You pursed your lips, if only you weren’t so exhausted, then maybe… You shook your head, snapping out of your thoughts. “Then, once I’m fully rested, I can properly thank you for your help today.”

Wriothesley smiled, understanding the not-so subtle implications of your words and welcoming it with open arms. 

“Great,” he said after a moment’s thought. “I look forward to it.”

[spitgobbler]

I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.