#I’m about to eat a late dinner and settle down in bed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cookiescribble · 6 months ago

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A/N: this is just a short little thing i’ve had in my head for a while, and the writer’s block is finally clearing up a little so i’ve been able to write more again :) hope you like it! - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer finally have an evening off, and are happy to spend it together. But nights off are never a guarantee when you work at the BAU. (based on 9x23)

CW: suggestive but not explicit behavior, reader gets a little wine drunk, mild discussion of sex lives.

~~~

You were enjoying a nice, quiet dinner at home, soft music playing in the background. You were a little dressed up, wearing a casual dress and some jewelry to match, trying to pretend it was a date night and not just spaghetti and wine you got from the grocery store. Making the best out of the little time you had to plan this.

Spencer was sitting across from you, smiling as he held his glass of water out to you. “To finally having a night off?”

You smiled back at him, clinking his cup with your wine glass. “To finally having you all to myself tonight.” You winked at him as you took a sip of wine. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it made the night a little more special.

He took a sip of his water, gesturing to your wine glass. “Be careful with that, you turn into trouble when you have too much wine.” His words sounded like a warning, but his tone was teasing, a grin on his face.

At that, you smiled mischievously, taking a bigger sip of wine. “I think I’m allowed to cause a little trouble on our day off.” You put your glass down, picking up your fork to start eating your dinner. “We deserve to have a little fun tonight.”

Dinner wasn’t much different than it usually was when you two were home together, but it felt nice to be able to sit at the dinner table across from each other after dealing with so much work lately. There was light flirting back and forth between you and Spencer through your meal, setting the mood for the evening. Every sip of wine you took made you feel a little more flushed and bubbly, making the flirting start escalating a bit. You could feel yourself noticing more things about Spencer as he ate across from you: the way his fingers moved around his fork as he twirled it in his plate, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed his food, the way his lips parted when he took a sip of water…

“That’s a dangerous look you’re giving me, you know.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Spencer spoke, a smirk on his face as he set his fork down. You met his eyes, matching his smirk, reaching out to grab his hand from across the table. “Is it?” You asked innocently, starting to trace patterns in the palm of his hand, making him shudder softly.

“It is,” he replied, his voice soft and deep. “I think you know what you’re doing when you look at me like that.” He slowly stood up, walking over to you and tilting your chin up with his finger. “You better be ready to take responsibility for this.”

You stood up, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing your faces close, your lips stopping just short of touching his. “Oh, I’m definitely planning on taking responsibility…” One of your fingers started to trail down his face, slowly tracing over his bottom lip. You could see his face start to heat up a bit at your touch, his breath hitching. “If you’re ready, that is,” you said in a quiet, breathy tone.

That little touch seemed to set him off, as he grabbed your face and crashed his lips with yours, bumping you into the table with the abrupt force.

Suddenly, you both were stumbling through the living room, hands all over each other as you made your way to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You fell back onto the bed, Spencer taking you into his arms after shrugging off the shirt you mostly unbuttoned on your way here.

His lips were on yours again, the weight of his body starting to push down on you as he settled on top of you. He started pushing down the straps of your dress, his lips moving down to your neck. He started peppering kisses there, quickly at first, before they started getting slower and deeper.

“You look really good in this dress, you know that?” His voice was husky as his tongue met your skin, earning a lustful sigh from you in response. “So pretty…” he whispered between kisses, starting to gently bite down on your neck.

“Spence…” you moaned out, already turning into a mess underneath him, even though you were still fully dressed. The wine mixed with his sweet words and lustful bedroom eyes, you could hardly stand to wait anymore. Your hands tangled in his hair as his teeth grazed your skin, his eyes closed in concentration as he felt your body react underneath him. His lips started slowly trailing downward from your neck, starting to move under your collar…

Suddenly, you were startled by the sound of your phone going off, making you both groan.

“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is,” you pleaded as Spencer stood up to look at your phone. He held it out to you, showing you a text indicating that you had to go into work for a case. You grumbled as you sat up, readjusting your dress. “I swear to god, I am quitting this job. I mean it.”

Spencer laughed, opening the closet to start putting on a purple button-down shirt. “Relax, we’ll get some time to ourselves at the hotel later.” He took out a tie, putting it around his neck as he reached out his hand to help you up out of bed. He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Maybe we can continue this then?”

You sigh, starting to rifle through drawers to throw on a sweater over your dress. There wasn’t really time to find a whole new outfit. “I hope so, but I don’t know if I realistically see that happening.”

The two of you rushed to get dressed and ready, knowing you needed to be out the door as soon as possible. You skipped brushing your hair, tying it up for now and just throwing your hairbrush in your go-bag with everything else you needed. Spencer was pulling on a cardigan as he reached out to hug you from the side, kissing your temple before grabbing his messenger bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “Ready?” He asked as you started walking through the door.

“I guess,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Spencer reached down to kiss your cheek as he locked the apartment door behind you, making you smile. “The hotel rooms better be nice,” you added, grabbing his hand as you walked to your car.

“Agreed,” he replied, laughing lightly as you both entered the car, pulling out of the parking lot and heading for the office.

…

You were walking fast after getting off the elevator, rushing to meet up with everyone, when you heard some of the team members talking.

“So…” You heard JJ’s voice down the hall. “We get Henry to bed, and, y’know, we’re about to finally have some alone time with mommy and daddy, and…” She trailed off, and as you entered the room, you saw her roll her eyes from afar. “You guys know the rest,” she finished, sounding annoyed.

“Ah, trying to dust off the ol’ cobwebs,” Derek joked, laughing.

Penelope hit him on the shoulder. “Inappropriate!” She exclaimed, before turning back to JJ. “Seriously, though, how long has it been?”

You laughed, seeing her intense face as you walked closer to joining everyone. Always so curious. Or nosy, you could say. But it was a part of her that was endearing.

“Too long,” JJ replied flatly.

You finally reached the group, putting your stuff down and greeting everyone.

JJ looked over at you and Spencer, a slight smirk on her face. “Well, looks like I wasn’t the only one interrupted,” she remarked, noticing how you both still looked a little disheveled after rushing to get here.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Bite me,” you replied sarcastically.

She gestured over to you, pointing at your neck. “Looks like someone already did,” she snickered.

You looked down to see a small bruise starting to form on your neck. You didn’t really look in the mirror while you were getting ready, so you didn’t notice the mark there.

You looked pointedly at Spencer as your hand went to your neck. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry,” he mouthed silently, looking a little guilty.

You quickly took your hair down, grabbing the brush from your bag and starting to smooth your hair down. You could see Penelope open her mouth to ask probing questions. Everyone seemed to be too curious about your relationship, asking way too many questions when you finally told everyone you and Spencer were dating. Especially Penelope. Thankfully, she was cut off before she could say anything.

“Do we know what the case is?” Alex asked, letting you drop the subject of your evening activities and shift the focus to work. You snuck one last glance at Spencer, who smiled at you and reached out for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you settled into your new evening plans.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

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wintrwinchestr · 1 year ago

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obedience | part 1

summary: you decide to act out after feeling neglected by joel for over a week. it doesn’t go quite according to plan, but his punishment does help you unlock a new kink or two.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, daddy kink, d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, brat tamer joel, degradation/humiliation (use of slut, whore, 1 use of bitch), orgasm denial/edging, boot riding, pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, honey, puppy), entering petplay territory??, finger sucking, one face slap but she likes it (and so do i), taking/sending nudes at work, subspace, hair pulling, joel cums on reader’s face, cum eating, two idiots who finally communicate and apologize to each other, gets soft at the end bc i’m a woman of many interests, reader can be carried by joel but no other physical descriptions, winter’s limited knowledge of what contractors do, pic of girl in the moodboard is for bra imagery only, reader looks just like you!! :)

word count: 4.1k

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent so please don’t look at me!!! lil shoutout to @pascalisbaby for inspiring me to write something just so i can use “puppy” bc their love’s gonna get you killed series has fucked me up extremely bad.

divider by @saradika

(read part 2 here)

It’s coming up on nearly a week and a half of Joel working long days and late nights at the latest suburban McMansion he’s been contracted out to. Each and every time he creeps into his side of the bed after you’ve already gone to sleep, never failing to wake you up in the process, he always has a different excuse. “My concrete guy was out sick today”, “the vendor gave us the wrong size rebar”, “the landscapers were in our way all damn day”, and other similar eye roll-inducing anecdotes that were followed up with sleepy apologies.

Tonight, you’re almost certain, will be just the same.

Slogging through yet another slow and uneventful day at your corporate nine-to-five, you’re practically counting down the seconds until you’ll be able to escape your drab little cubicle for the day. You aren’t exactly looking forward to going home, though, either. You know that all you have waiting for you will be another lonely night of heating up a frozen dinner, watching reality TV reruns until the ten o’clock news comes on, and then tucking yourself into a cold bed.

While you’re waiting around for a coworker to message you back about something painfully unimportant, you decide to get up to kill some time in the bathroom on your phone and stretch your legs a bit. You stand up from your rolling chair, grabbing your phone in the process, and head down the hall to the one single-person bathroom in the building that you know of.

You step inside and click the lock shut behind you, looking forward to having a rare few minutes to yourself without the threat of your manager lurking over your shoulder. You inspect your makeup in the mirror and address some flyaway hairs before leaning back against the sink and swiping your home screen into view. Your heart soars at the discovery of a text notification from Joel, but settles just as quickly when you read the words across your screen.

A couple of my dumbass guys fucked up some measurements again. Gonna be another late one. Sorry baby.

You let out an exasperated sigh and turn around to face your reflection again, bracing yourself on the edge of the sink and trying not to cry. How much fucking longer are you going to have to put up with this? You'd been getting through it alright so far, but his sterile text had ignited a raging fire deep in your stomach that made a scorching heat climb its way up the back of your neck.

You’re determined to get his attention tonight, one way or another. Even if it means pushing some of his buttons, riling him up, making him feel a few licks of that very same inferno. You’re feeling fucking bratty.

You undo the top few buttons of your blouse and shimmy it off your shoulders, exposing the blushing lace of the bra you had chosen when you were getting dressed this morning. Using one arm to hold your phone up to the mirror with the camera app open, you use the other one to prop yourself up against the sink and assist in pushing your tits together. As a final touch, you pull down one of the delicate cups along with its accompanying strap, exposing an already peaked nipple. Meeting your own eyes in the reflection and forming your glossy lips into a faux pout, you snap the picture and attach it to your text conversation with Joel. You type out a coy little message to go along with it and send it off.

that’s okay daddy. just sad i wore a rly cute bra today for nothing :(

While you anxiously wait for his response, you take a few more lewd photos to tease him with later, and make your way back to your desk after you button yourself up again and smooth out your skirt.

Sitting back down at your cubicle, you check your notifications to find a response from Joel, sent just a few seconds ago.

What’d I tell you about sendin me shit like that when I’m at work? Put your fuckin tits away babygirl. Not in the mood today.

Despite his harsh words, you know your plan is already working in your favor. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you attach another one of the photos you had taken in the bathroom, this one of your matching lace panties pulled aside to expose your bare pussy to the front camera. You type out another flirtatious message and tap the button to send it.

idk what u mean daddy :( just miss u is all. she misses u too :((

You promptly turn off your phone and place it screen-down next to your mousepad, resigning yourself to a mere ten minutes of work before you can’t resist temptation anymore and pick it back up again to check for a reply.

Last warning babygirl. I got enough shit to deal with today, don’t need your slutty pictures distractin me. I’ll see ya tonight.

whatever. u don’t pay attention to me anymore anyway :/

You begin to regret your message as soon as you send it, worrying you might have taken things too far. But it was true; you’re upset, in a bratty mood, and feeling neglected. And, maybe you did want to work him up enough for him to take it all out on you, to fuck the attitude out of you the way you know he likes to do every so often.

A few seconds after you power off your screen to do a few more minutes of work, it illuminates again.

Oh I don't? When I get home tonight you better be kneelin in front of the door waitin for me undressed like a good girl. Not like the fuckin brat you’re actin like. And we’ll see about payin you some attention. Now pull your fuckin panties up and get back to work.

Your heart jumps into your throat as you read his text, now feeling exhilarated that your plan is officially in motion. After you’ve read his words through a couple of times, squeezing your thighs together and stifling a whimper as you did so, your trembling fingers type out a simple reply:

yes daddy <3

The remainder of your work day seems to pass by in slow motion, every minute feeling more like five. You can hardly bring yourself to focus on any of your mundane tasks, your mind constantly drifting to what you might be in for tonight. Will he spank you and leave red handprints on your ass for days? Will he fuck your face while you sputter and gasp around him? Will he work you over with his tongue until all you know how to say is “I’m sorry, Daddy”? As you shake yourself from your trance and try to focus your eyes again, you wonder why you hadn’t thought to act up like this earlier in the week. You keep your eye on the little digital clock in the corner of your monitor for the last five consecutive minutes of your work day, and as soon as 4:59 flashes to 5:00, you practically sprint out to your car in your hurry to get home.

–

You’re cuddled up on the couch underneath your favorite fleece blanket, already stripped down to your peony-colored underwear set like Joel had requested. The past couple of hours have been spent cycling between all of your streaming services and social media apps, trying desperately to find something to occupy yourself with until he gets home. You’re half-tempted to get up and walk some laps around the house, but around 10:30, you finally see the scanning headlights of Joel’s pickup as it turns into the driveway.

You immediately spring up from your little nest on the couch and prance over to the front door, kneeling a few feet in front of it just like he ordered.

In your excited anticipation to see him, you tune your ears to pick up every little sound you hear as he makes his way to you: the slam of the truck’s driver’s side door, the dull thud of his work boots heading up the walkway, the prolonged jingling of his keys as he fumbles with them to unlock the door. You’re sure he’s fidgeting with them for a few seconds longer than usual, just to tease you and keep you waiting. A shiver runs up your spine and you can feel your heart pounding against the walls of your chest as he finally turns the lock.

He calmly steps inside and closes the door behind him, dropping his dusty work bag onto the floor and stripping himself of his canvas tool belt. He stalks over to where you’re knelt on the hardwood, wrapped in your dainty lace for him like a little doll. There’s something arousing about the contrast between your barely-there feminine attire and his dark, practical clothing.

“Well, whaddya know, she can be good after all… Waitin’ for me all nice and pretty just like I asked. All it takes is an order from your Daddy to get you actin’ right again, ain’t that right, babygirl? Obedient lil’ thing…” He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he speaks, keeping your eyes trained on his. You nod up at him, doe-eyed and dazed, already feeling yourself beginning to slip into that familiar saccharine headspace.

Every time you had previously tried your hand at bratting, it never lasted very long, and tonight was already proving to be no different. He was right, after all, it doesn’t take more than a command, a look, a gentle grasp of your chin, to remind you of your desire to be good for him.

“What, Daddy doesn’t get a proper greetin’ after a long day o’ work? You already that far gone f’ me, can’t use your words proper like a big girl?”

“H-hi, Daddy… Missed you today,” you half-whisper, your voice sounding a little higher and further away than it did earlier in the day.

“Yeah, I know y’ did… I’ll bet your lil’ panties are ‘bout soaked through already, bet you left a wet spot on your fuckin’ desk chair just from daydreamin’ about what I was gonna do to you tonight, hm?”

Another silent nod accompanied by a pitiful little whimper. The blazing fire in your gut from this afternoon is quickly being replaced by something much more easily tamed, something more akin to a flickering candle flame than a wildfire. You struggle to keep your eyelids open as they begin to feel heavier with submission.

A stern look and a ticked jaw is enough for you to correct your wordless response.

“Y-yes, Daddy…”

“And what is it that you think I’m gonna do with you tonight, babygirl? Speak up, now…”

You rack your brain for a moment, suddenly unable to remember any of the depraved fantasies you had been conjuring up all day instead of replying to emails. You eventually land on a relatively straightforward answer.

“I th-think you’re gonna… gonna fuck the attitude outta me, t-teach me a lesson… right, Daddy?”

He lets out a dark chuckle, releasing your chin from his hold to give your cheek a couple of condescending pats instead.

“Aww, dumb lil’ thing… you thought Daddy was gonna touch you at all tonight, make that pathetic lil’ pussy cum after the stunts you were pullin’ today? Nah, I don’t think so… Open that slutty fuckin’ mouth.”

You’re reeling, taken aback by his harsh words, words that were certainly not in any of the countless scenarios you had been imagining at work. There’s a long beat of silence as you struggle to process his command.

You hear the smack across your face before you feel the heated sting of it, and it prompts a debauched mewl to spill from your parted lips.

“I said open your fuckin’ mouth…”

Your jaw falls slack in an instant, your pulsing cunt releasing an ashamed wave of wetness at the degrading slap. Joel shoves his thumb inside your waiting mouth, and you wrap your lips around it obediently as you swirl your tongue along its calloused landscape. It tastes salty, a little dirty, and you like it.

“Good girl, suck on Daddy’s thumb, tha’s it… dumb whore’ll suck on anything Daddy puts in her mouth, won’t she? Desperate lil’ thing… Bet you wish it was this fat cock instead, don’t you baby?”

You whine and nod around him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Well… that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it? Tonight’s not about what you want, you can gimme that sad puppy look all you like, sugar, not gonna change anythin’...”

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, and your slick lips try to chase after it until he wipes it clean on the side of your face. His hands make quick work of opening his stained work jeans and freeing his stiff cock from his briefs, taking it into one hand and beginning to pump it with languid strokes. He grabs a fistful of hair at the base of your skull with his free hand and taps the leaking head of his length against your cheek, adding to the dampness there from your own saliva.

“This what you want?” Tap tap tap. “You want Daddy’s cock? Hm? This what you been thinkin’ about all day, dirty girl?” He rocks his hips back and forth as he speaks, smearing his arousal along your skin.

You can’t help but squirm as a humiliated heat begins to pool in your tummy.

“Yes, Daddy, please let me have it, wan’ it so bad…” you beg.

He releases your hair and pulls his cock away from your face, making a show of massaging it and taunting you with what he won’t let you have.

“Nah, you ain’t gettin’ any of Daddy’s cock tonight, baby… In fact, I’m gonna stand right here and take care of m’self, and you’re gonna find somethin’ to rub that soakin’ cunt on while I watch…”

As the last of his words leave his lips, he steps one foot forward and nudges it between your thighs, looking at you expectantly. You lower your head to face his steel-toed work boot, covered in dust and dirt from his day at the construction site. Your mind still too deep in the clouds to understand what he’s asking of you, you lift your eyes back up to him for guidance. He juts his chin out in a silent “go on, then”, and you return your confused gaze back to his boot, the toe of which is positioned just in front of your aching heat. Your breath hitches and your eyes go wide as you finally realize: he wants to pleasure himself to the sight of you getting yourself off on his boot.

All at once, it falls into place how he wants the night to unfold. He wants to deny you. Deny you of his touch, his cock, even the privilege of making him feel good yourself… all because you acted out, disobeyed him, tested his limits.

“We understand each other, darlin’?”

“Y-yes, Daddy…” You meet his eyes as you speak, voice coming out a little unsteady. Any confidence you had while you were teasing him this afternoon is long gone, fully submitting to him now and completely at his mercy. He didn’t need to fuck you in order to put you in your place, he knew plenty of other much more degrading ways to rid you of your bratty attitude, to remind you of who you belong to.

You position your cunt over the filthy toe of his boot, the gusset of your lacy panties now completely saturated with your wetness. Your hands planted on either side of his leg, you try an experimental grind onto the leather-covered steel. A bolt of electricity shoots from your swollen clit to your fevered cheeks, burning with the eroticism of being made to humiliate yourself like this. He allows you to wrap your arms around his calf, using his sturdy form as leverage to rub yourself harder and faster against the solid material.

“Look at you, humpin’ my boot like a fuckin’ dog… that’s just what y’ are, ain’t it? Daddy’s lil’ puppy…” he teases, spurring you on with his words and the indecent sounds of his wet fist working along his thick cock.

You let out an involuntary yelp at the new pet name, which he’s quick to catch with a huff through his nose.

“Oh, she likes that, don’t she? Y’ like that, sweetheart, bein’ Daddy’s good girl, his obedient lil’ puppy? Yeah, I know y’ do… I got you trained good, don’t I? Do just about anything I want, won’t you? Got you rubbin’ that slutty pussy on my fuckin’ boot, for Christ’s sake, barely even had to ask… fuckin’ pathetic.”

The degradation makes your stomach swirl with a cocktail of embarrassment and pleasure. Your cunt flutters as you continue your frantic movements, releasing broken whimpers that sound something like uh huh and yes, Daddy. You’re sure that your slick has to be dripping down his boot by now, soaking straight through the leather and pooling onto the hardwood. You wonder if he might punish you for that, too, for making a mess of him and your freshly mopped floors. Just the thought of it has your hips picking up the pace, desperate to reach your high.

Your eyes are shut tightly as you pursue your orgasm, but you can still hear the shallow pumps of Joel’s fist and his stuttering breaths that indicate he’s close to his own release.

“Yeah, grind that sloppy fuckin’ puppy cunt on Daddy’s boot, there ya go… lookin’ like a goddamn bitch in heat… desperate whore… c’mon, puppy, make a fuckin’ mess for me…”

“I’m gonna cum, Daddy, gonna–”

Just as you feel yourself about to crest the wave of your climax, he pulls his foot out from under you and yanks your head back by another fistful of hair.

“Open up, puppy,” he groans as he splashes his hot release all over your face, aiming most of it around your mouth as you cry out from the denial of your own pleasure.

“Look at you, filthy girl… So pretty for Daddy, all covered in me,” he coos as the last few milky drops land on your cheek. Before any of it can start to drip, he scoops it up with his thumb and feeds it to you a bit at a time, and you continue to suck his finger into your eager mouth once again.

When your face is fully cleaned of his spend, he pulls his thumb from between your lips for a final time with a pop, and you stick out your tongue to show him you’ve swallowed everything he’s given you.

“Good girl,” he praises, petting the side of your hair in soothing strokes. “What do you say to Daddy, hm?”

“Th-thank you…” you choke out, still trying to steady your voice.

“And what else?” he asks.

You take a deep breath. “And… I’m sorry, Daddy,” you relent.

“For what, sweet girl?”

This was always your least favorite part, the part you struggled with the most: admitting that you were wrong.

“For being a brat today, for not listening and disrespecting you…” Your posture deflates, wondering if you should continue your confession. You remember one of the ground rules that was laid out when you first entered this dynamic with him, the one about how important communication is, and decide to keep going. “I jus’ feel like you’ve hardly paid any attention to me the past few days…” You start to sniffle as you speak, the overwhelm of it all finally catching up with you.

“Oh…” he breathes sympathetically. “Here, can you stand up, babygirl? C’mon, come sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute.”

He offers you his hands, and you use them to push yourself up onto shaky legs, feeling like a newborn foal. You wrap your arms around his neck and he scoops you up, carrying you bridal-style back to your cozy spot on the couch. He situates you in his lap, wrapping you up in your blanket again, and you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between his shoulder and neck. You inhale through your nose, smiling to yourself and sighing contentedly when your senses are flooded with his natural comforting smell.

“I know I’ve been workin’ some real late nights recently… I’m sorry about that, honey,” he apologizes, rubbing comforting circles around your upper back.

“‘S okay, Daddy, ‘s not your fault,” you say into his skin.

“But I shoulda made more of an effort to give you some lovin’ anyway, I shouldn’t have had to wait for you to brat on me… Look at me, baby.” You lift your head and meet his sincere gaze, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours. “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry too, Daddy.”

“I know y’ are, sweet girl, I know…”

You exchange warm smiles, and he curls his pointer finger under your chin to pull your face toward his, placing a delicate kiss to your lips. He settles both of his large hands on either side of your face before breaking the kiss to press your foreheads together. You close your eyes and try to match his breathing, enjoying this moment with him.

After a minute or so, you break the silence. “So… puppy, huh? That’s a new one,” you giggle.

He laughs and releases your face from his hold, meeting your eyes again. “Jus’ wanted to try somethin’ new, I guess…” He snakes a hand under the blanket, thumbing over the damp crotch of your panties. “And judgin’ by this lil’ mess down here, I take it you liked it. Hm, pretty girl?”

Still sensitive from your earlier denial, you let out a high pitched little whine and an involuntary buck of your hips into his hand.

“See? Even sound like a lil’ puppy… Daddy’s good girl. You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

“Uh huh, yes, Daddy, please…” Your face is buried in his chest as you rut into his hand, squeezing it between your thighs, back to the same place you were just before he pulled his boot out from underneath you.

“Daddy was so mean earlier, wasn’t he? Not lettin’ you cum, punishin’ you for actin’ up… But I think you’ve learned your lesson now, huh puppy? C’mon, sweet girl, let go, soak Daddy’s hand…”

And you do. With his permission, you cry out, muscles spasming and cunt twitching as you finally ride out the climax you’ve been chasing all night. You’re panting by the time you start to come down after what feels like several minutes, exhaustion hitting you hard all at once. When some of your awareness has come back to you, you realize that Joel is gently rocking you back and forth on his lap, petting the back of your head and gently shushing in your ear.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, babygirl, I gotcha, Daddy’s gotcha… So good for me, baby, my precious girl…”

When your breathing evens out once more, you muster the strength to lift your head from its place against his heart, and he chuckles at the sleepy and sated look on your face as you blink slowly at him.

“My lil’ puppy’s all tuckered out, huh? Let’s get you up to bed, darlin’, Daddy’ll tuck you in.”

He stands up with a groan, cradling you in his muscled arms, and carries you into the bedroom. You’re already drifting off to sleep when he sits you on the bed, carefully stripping you of your ruined underwear and helping you into a clean, sensible pair of cotton undies. He retrieves one of his oversized “Miller Contracting” shirts from his drawer and slips it over your head, helping your weak arms through the sleeves. Brushing your hair away from your face, he places a scruffy kiss to your hairline and helps you lay down onto the cool sheets. He pulls the covers up all the way over your shoulders, the way he knows you like, and smiles to himself when you burrow yourself into the sheets.

He takes a quick shower to rid himself of the grime and grit he collected on his skin during the day, and slips into bed beside you. Another private smile and a small shake of his head when you instinctually turn to face him and snuggle into his warm body, wrapping your arms around the breadth of his upper arm and inhaling the masculine cologne of his body wash.

He reaches across his chest to gently scratch at the top of your head, prompting a dreamy little noise from you. “Just like I said,” he whispers to himself, “a lil’ puppy.”

He wouldn’t have you any other way.

not really sure who to tag for this one, gonna use the same list from my last fic if that's okay!! anyone else please let me know if you'd like to be tagged on my future fics!!

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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velaryqns · 3 months ago

Note

Please write being Gregory house wife, pregnant with your second child and just domestic life with house, toddler and baby on the way

Peaceful Evenings

Pairing: dad & husband!gregory house x wife, mom, & pregnant! reader

summary: It's late in the evening when Greg gets home from work...

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, I just threw out a random name for the kid when I started writing...so

You looked at the time as you scrolled through the website you were shopping on. You and Greg had recently discussed the need for a new dining room table. The two seater wasn’t going to work much longer, Parker needed to start using a booster and the baby was due in two months. Plus, you’d be able to get James to help set one up if you needed it. None of the tables had grabbed your attention, and you rubbed a hand over your stomach and hummed, “We might have to convince daddy to go to an actual furniture store.”

The baby seemed to kick in response, and you chuckled and closed the laptop. You sat forward more and stretched your back out, then kicked your legs over the bed to go check on your son in his room. Parker was nearly three, but you still frequently worried about him. Greg had tried to calm your nerves about him, as your son wasn’t a restless sleeper, and was usually good about sleeping through the night after settling into a nice routine.

Sure enough, your son was sound asleep in his bed when you peaked in. Across the hall from his room was the nursery, neutral colors with pops of all colors of the rainbow for your new baby. You continued down the hall, one hand against the wall, to the kitchen. You’d spent most of the evening trying to keep Parker entertained and make sure everything was clean after your day at the hospital.

Thankfully, being a nurse didn’t keep you away from your life at home as frequently as House being the Head of Diagnostics did to him. You couldn’t blame him, and knew he didn’t like when he had to call you and say that something was running behind. It wasn’t frequent, as rare cases were called rare for a reason.

He had called ahead of dinner and you told him to get home safe. But now, he should be home any minute. You turned on the kitchen light, adjusting to the brightness as you got a glass of water, as well as made yourself a cup of tea. As you waited for your tea to be done, you sat at the table. You looked around the living room.

Parker had a few toys still lying around that you’d forgotten to pick up, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up this late into the evening. Your eyes were taken from the toys when the sound of keys at the door could be heard. You looked over, smiling at your husband as the door was pushed open.

He had a tired look on his face, but was able to offer you a smile as he set his keys and bag aside. He limped into the kitchen, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You hummed, feeling his hand land on your shoulder and squeeze it gently. He pulled away and grabbed the other chair to sit closer to you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled at him, cupping your chin with one hand, “Dinner is in fridge if you’re hungry.”

He nodded, patting his hands against the table and rising to his feet. He limped over to the fridge and you turned to watch as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing a mug and pouring your tea for you before he brought it over, “You didn’t have to stay up.”

“Don’t just blame me,” you chuckled and patted your stomach, where the baby had finally stilled for the evening as you took the mug from your husband, “I’m hoping some tea will help me sleep though.”

There was silence as his food reheated and you took a sip of your tea, before you hummed with a small smile, "And maybe with you here tonight."

Your husband let out a small chuckle as the microwave went off and he joined you at the table, sitting in the other chair and taking a bite of his food. You sat back in your chair slightly, wrapping your hands around the ceramic mug as you watched your husband eat. There were a few minutes of silence before you heard the unmistakable sound of Parker in his room. Your eyes darted toward the clock above the stove, a slight frown forming before you pushed yourself to your feet.

You squeezed a hand on your husband's shoulder, squeezing lightly before you wandered down the hall and into Parker's room. You stepped inside to see him sitting up in bed, a new small one that you'd bribed James into helping House bring into the apartment and set up. You smiled at your son, helping him out of the bed and holding his hand as he walked down the hall.

The toddler's sleepy face instantly lit up when he spotted his father sitting at the dining room table. You let his hand go and allowed him to rush into his father's arms. Parker settled on Greg's lap as you sat back in the chair, stretching your back as you and Greg locked eyes, a small smile on your husband's face while Parker began rattling off, with whatever words he knew how to use, about his day after Greg had left.

You knew then that your husband would take the responsibility of tucking the little boy back into bed, and that you'd join each other in the comfort of your large bed and blankets.

This was nice.

#fanfic #fanfiction writer #oneshots #reader insert #gregory house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x reader #gregory house #robert chase x reader #robert chase #velaryqns

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reigningqueenofwords · 5 months ago

Text

Forgiven

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,530 Request: @jessicalynnann Okay when you have time how about Dean is a cop and he and the reader are established well she thinks Dean is pulling away cause he is working a lot and there is a new partner who is pretty. Well she and Mary are shopping and she breaks down and tells Mary that she thinks she is losing Dean. Well what about there is a robbery where the reader works and she gets hurt and Dean risks his life to save her. I had this dream last night. Can you make the ending something like this I love you so much but I guess I’m doing this here. And he gets down on one knee… no rush.

Read on AO3

You’d been with Dean nearly 7 years. You were by his side all through the academy, and when he got his badge. Things had been really good, and while there’d been no proposal or talk of a family, you felt you were on the way. One day you knew you’d call Dean your husband, and the father of your children.

And then Dean’s hours went up. Fine. He was busy. That happened. However, after the first couple weeks of the new hours you felt like Dean wasn’t your Dean. When he would crawl into bed he was out. No pulling you close, no holding you. Instead of eating breakfast with you (on the mornings he was there at the same time), he’d grab something on the way to work. You couldn’t remember the last time he had taken you on a date, either. Or surprised you with flowers ‘just because’.

After a month of this, you found out that he had a new partner. He hadn’t even told you. You’d met her at the cookout he and a few of his coworkers had now and then. It was them, and their significant others. She had walked up to you, a big smile on her (too beautiful) face. “You must be Y/N! I’m Kelly.” She held out her hand, clearly excited to meet you.

You shook it, not wanting to be rude. “Nice to meet you. Are you dating one of the guys?” You knew a couple of them were single, so maybe they had met someone?

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, I’m Winchester’s new partner.” She chuckled. New partner ? What happened to his old partner? “For about a month now.” She moved to stand next to you.

“I honestly didn’t know he had a new partner.” You admitted, feeling embarrassed. “He hasn’t talked much about work recently.”

“It does get really busy.” She nodded, a tension settling between the pair of you. “The guys have been so welcoming, too.”

Her bubblynes was so odd to you. Not in general, but at this moment. How could she not feel the awkwardness? That you clearly had no idea that she even existed before today? “They’re all great.” You agreed. “I always look forward to catching up with all of them at the cookouts. I haven’t been able to have any of them over for dinner lately.”

“Oh, if I would have known I would have invited you when I had everyone over last Wednesday.” She shook her head.

“Everyone? Was Dean there?” Your heart clenched. Dean said he had work, so just make yourself something. Was that ‘work’ spending time with the guys at Kelly’s?

She nodded. “Yeah, him, Cas, Sam…most of the guys.” She shrugged. “We hung out for a couple hours, had some beers.” You couldn’t be angry at Kelly. She didn’t know that she was pouring salt in your wounds.

Dean came over, grinning. He had a beer in one hand, and a plate in the other. “Hey, babe. I see you met Winters.” He said happily. “I told you you’d get along.”

You gave him a funny look. “You never told me about her.” You said awkwardly. “I didn’t know you had a new partner. She is nice, though.” That was something you couldn't deny. It still didn’t alleviate you feeling off about the entire situation. “Oh, I see Donna. I’m gonna go say hi. I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever.” You excused yourself, rushing to talk to her.

Chuckling, Dean watched you go, sipping his beer.

A couple weeks later, you were lounging when Mary texted you. Up for some shopping with your mother in law? You sighed at her wording. Mary and John were like your second parents, and you adored them. Would you lose them, too?

Always! Let me shower and get ready. Want me to meet you at the mall? You got up, making your way to your room.

I’ll pick you up in half an hour :) She replied.

You felt you’d done well hiding how you were feeling, but when you were in the second store, Mary brought it up. “You seem to have something on your mind, do you want to talk about it?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “I can get it if it’s Dean being a cop. I mean, John just retired. Every day I worried about him coming home.”

“I think I’m losing him.” You admitted, tearing up. Quickly wiping your cheek, you focused on the dresses you were looking at. “I can get long hours, but it’s him feeling gone even when he’s home. He doesn’t pull me close anymore, doesn’t take me on dates, doesn’t surprise me with flowers, or anything. And have you met his new partner?”

Mary shook her head. “No, I’ve heard he’s good, though.”

“ She’s gorgeous.” You huffed. “I can barely get him to eat dinner with me, but one night he told me he had to work and just to make dinner for myself. He was at her house with some of the guys hanging out for a couple hours. And having dinner. I hate feeling so insecure and like he’d rather be with her.”

She pulled you into a hug. “Dean loves you so much.” She tried. “I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

You hugged her back, welcoming the comfort. “I might go stay with my parents for a few days. I don’t think he’d even notice.” Which hurt even worse.

“Our house is closer to your job. You can come stay with us.” She pulled back to look at you, hands on your arms. “John will love having you around, too.”

After a moment, you nodded. “Okay, sure. Let’s finish up this shopping, and then I’ll go pack a bag. I’ll make dinner tonight. It’s been a bit since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself.” That alone gave you something to look forward to.

Dean got home just after 11 that night, and wasn’t surprised to see all the lights off. There was no sign in the first floor of the house that anything was different. He toed off his shoes, hung his belt on the coat rack, and made his way to the kitchen. Sometimes he got lucky and there were leftovers from dinner that night. When he didn’t see anything, he assumed that there hadn’t been anything left over.

After he had a quick sandwich and a glass of milk, he made his way upstairs. He froze when he noticed the bed was still made. You weren’t in it. His nightstand lamp was on, and there was a paper folded against it. Walking over to it, he sat on the bed and lifted the paper. Did you leave him? It took him a moment for him to open it.

Dean-

I’m staying with your parents for a few days while I do some thinking. We’ve been together almost 7 years. 7 years in two weeks, actually. Did you have any idea that our anniversary was coming up?

I barely see you, and when I do? You aren’t even *here*. It’s like you’re somewhere else. When you started working more, I understood. Your job is important, which meant the times you were home would mean more. Instead, those times hurt worse.

When was the last time you held me at night? When was the last time you held my hand? Took me on a date? Cuddled with me while watching a movie (even if you fell asleep, I would be over the moon for that time with you)?

Do you know how badly it hurt to want you home for dinner now and then, just to find out you went to your new partner’s for dinner? A new partner I didn’t know about, might I add. You’d rather go spend time with your gorgeous new partner than make it home for one dinner with the woman who has been by your side for everything, and that says a lot.

I’m not saying I’m leaving you, but I do need to figure some things out.

I love you, Dean.

-Y/N

He clenched his jaw as tears rolled down his cheeks. Looking back, he knew this wasn’t out of left field. He knew what you were talking about. He’d seen the hurt on your face lately, too. He’d pushed it away, though. He’d told himself it was something else. It wasn’t about him. Dean sniffed, opening up his night stand drawer to pull out the tiny black box he’d put in there two months prior. Lifting the lid, he looked down at the ring he’d bought you, and wondered if he missed his chance. All he saw when he pictures his life was you by his side, and probably a kid or two. You’d be a great mom.

“Fuck.” He breathed. He had an early shift the next day, so he’d go straight to you after work.

It stung when you woke up to no texts or missed calls from Dean. You knew that by now he would have gotten your note. Unless he didn’t go home last night . The thought caught you off guard. He’d never not come home. Even if he came home late. Pushing those thoughts from your head, you got ready for work. You worked at a high end jewelry store, and had been promoted to manager 6 months prior. It paid well, and you liked all the people you worked with.

Dean hadn’t slept well the night before, and knew he’d be powering through his shift with a lot of (bad) coffee. He also wanted to talk to his chief about cutting back his hours, even just an hour here and there. Anything to be with you more. If he even had you more.

It was nearly 4 when he was alerted to a robbery. At your job. “Shit!” He flipped on the sirens and lights before speeding off. He was only a few minutes away, but it felt like ages before he pulled up in front of it. He could see through the glass, where you were being held at gunpoint. The only other worker wasn’t someone he recognized, so he assumed they were new. What a way to start a job!

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?” Kelly asked as they parked.

“Yes, it is.” His voice was betraying him. He was trying to sound calm, but he felt like he’d lose it at any moment. “I’m going around back.” He told her.

She whipped her head to look at him. “What? Why not wait for backup? Can you even get in?”

“I can’t wait and risk her getting shot.” He pulled off his jacket. “And I can. I know the code. She’s the manager, so she told me.” Did you have a gut feeling he’d need it at some point?

“And do what in there? I can see the door to the back of the store. Which means he can.” She opened her door to get in place.

“I can distract him. Or maybe I can talk him down from inside. The storefront has bullet proof glass. She was really excited when it was installed. It’s supposed to be basically unbreakable.” He explained.

“This isn't procedure!” She tried. However, she watched him rush around the back, gun drawn. “Damn in, Winchester!” She hissed, hearing other cops arriving.

You were shaking, tears in your eyes, while the man in front of you aimed his gun at you. You’d heard the cops pull up, but that didn’t seem to phase him one bit. Someone must have called, because you didn’t even have a chance to trigger the silent alarm. He had to know that there was no getting out of this without being arrested, right?

The door next to you busted in, making you and Alice scream. The robber whipped his gun towards the door. The door blocked whoever it was from view, but only a few people had the code. You quickly looked out the front of the store and saw Kelly. But no Dean.

Just as it registered that your boyfriend was the one that came in, you heard two gunshots. The robber went down, and you rushed to the door. “Dean!” You sobbed, pulling off your blazer to press it against his chest. “Oh God.” Moving, you rested his head on your lap as you could hear people rushing into the store.

Dean hissed in pain as you kept pressure on his chest. “Fuck, I didn’t want to do it like this, but I gotta ask. I love you more than anything. Will you marry me? Your ring is in my nightstand.” He wanted you to know, just in case he didn’t make it.

You nodded. “Of course I’ll marry you.” The feelings of the past month or so were pushed from your mind. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that Dean had been shot. “I love you so much.” You sniffed.

“Ma’am, we need to get him into an ambulance.” Came a voice.

“Yeah, yeah.” You gently moved his head off your lap so you could get out of their way. You watched as they got him onto a stretcher.

You’d stopped at home on the way to the hospital. You wanted to put on your ring, so when Dean woke up, he saw you wearing it. You also knew that you wouldn’t be seeing him right away. Mary had already been called, and told you that they would meet you at the hospital.

Once there, you didn’t keep track of how much time you had been sitting there. All you could do is stare at the double doors that a doctor would come out of to talk to the family of Dean Winchester. John held Mary’s hand, both worried for their eldest. Sam was currently at work- at the police station, oddly enough. There was no telling when Dean’s coworkers would come flooding into the waiting room.

“Dean Winchester’s family?” A doctor called out. You, John, and Mary stood. “Hi, I’m Dr. Micheals. Surgery went well, and he’s awake now. Groggy, but awake. For now I’ll ask that you go see him one at a time.” He gave you a comforting smile.

“Go.” Mary nudged you. “We’ll see him after.”

Nodding, you followed the doctor to Dean’s room. “Thank you.” You said softly before stepping in.

“Hey, babe.” He smiled.

While a few tears had slipped out while you waited, hearing his voice broke the dam. Sobbing, you went over and gently kissed him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” You cupped his cheek.

“You’re stuck with me. For life.” He gave you that smirk that he knew just melted you. “I’m sorry about this past month. I had planned to talk to the chief after my shift about cutting back my hours some.” He rested his hand on your leg as you sat on the side of his bed. “And I know I’ll be on leave while I heal. So, I’m all yours. I’m not leaving your side.”

You smiled at that. “Alls forgiven.” You promised him.

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader

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wosostories · 3 months ago

Text

Heath Sisters PT 4 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Reader and Tobin spend some more time with the team.

Part 4

As soon as the hotel room door closes Y/N wraps her arms around her sister and buries her head into her chest.

“It’s ok Kid. It’s going to be ok.”

“They were really loud.”

“I know.”

“Can we finish our nap now? Please.” Y/N's voice strained as she tried to keep herself from crying.

“Ya kid we can. I’m sorry today has been so overwhelming for you.” Y/N just shook her head and curled up next to Tobin on the bed.

It wasn’t too long after that Y/N was asleep again. Tobin, however, couldn’t fall back asleep. The only thing running through her mind was how she was going to get through the next two weeks without someone finding out about their pasts.

It was another hour later that Y/N started to stir. Calling out to her sister in the midst of a nightmare. “Toby… Toby. Make them stop. Please, make them stop. Toby…”

“It’s ok it’s ok. No one here is going to hurt you. You aren’t there anymore, I’ve got you.” Tobin pulled her sister into her lap and rested her head against her chest stroking her hair in hopes to calm her down. Tobin started rocking her when tears started streaking down her face.

It took another few minutes for Y/N to open her eyes and willingly curl in further to her sister.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, how long till dinner?”

“About half an hour, we should start getting ready soon.”

Y/N nods against her sister, “A few more minutes?”

Tobin sits up and gathers her sister in her arms, “Whatever you want Y/N. Whatever you want.”

The sisters spend another 10 minutes snuggled into each other. Tobin sighs, “Come on kid, let's get ready for dinner. We don’t want to be late. Remember what they said earlier, you get all the good stuff if you get there first.”

The sisters make their way out of bed and spend the next few minutes cleaning themselves up.

“Do you think they’re going to yell again?” Y/N asks.

“I don’t think so. They should have settled down at this point.” Y/N nods. They head down to the meal room. There are already a few members of the staff there when they arrive, but none of the team members.

“I knew I made the right decision bringing you into the squad.” Jill commented following the sisters into the meal room. They gave her a confused look. Jill chuckled, “You are going to be the only one of the girls here on time, which confuses me to no end seeing as they all love food.”

Jill continues to walk into the room and joins more of the training staff at their table. Tobin and Y/N make their way to one of the open tables and wait for the rest of the team and dinner to be served. The next one of the girls came in 5 minutes after dinner was supposed to start. It took another 10 minutes for the entire team to show up. As soon as the last two showed up, Kelley and Sonny, dinner was brought out.

They ended up sitting with a couple of the more veteran players Krieger, Kilng, Becky, Abby, A rod, and Cheney.

“Ah come on, I wanted to sit with the newbie.” Kelley complained as she finally made her way into the room.

“Well then you should have been on time. Now sit down so we can eat.” Her captain told her. She grumbled her way to her own seat.

“Have you gotten settled?” Kling asks them.

“Oh, uh ya. The rooms really nice. Had a great nap.” Tobin replies.

“How about you Y/N? How are you settling in? You figured out your luggage situation yet?”

“What luggage situation?” Becky asked.

“Oh, the airport lost Y/N’s bag and sent it to florida. It wouldn’t arrive here in time before we went back so we just had them send it back home.”

“So Y/N doesn’t have any clothes?”

“She’s got her soccer gear and she can just wear some of my stuff. It’s only a couple of weeks. So I guess you can say that we’ve got it all sorted.”

“Two weeks is a long time to not have any clothes. We’ll have some time tomorrow after morning practice to go to the store. We can take the rental car coach won’t mind.”

“No, that's ok.” Y/N just sits picking at her dinner as the older girls around her talk. The other girls at the table could tell that that conversation was over, and wanted to change topics quickly.

“So Y/N your sister said you're a forward right?” Y/N nods. “What soccer player do you look up to the most?” A Rod questions.

“Toby. Who else?”

“Ok I should have seen that one coming. Then who is your second favorite?”

“Toby.”

“But you said she was your first favorite?” Cheney buts in.

“No Tobin is the player I look up to the most, and my second favorite player.” Tobin chuckled at the serious tone her sister took on.

“Ok so who’s your favorite player?” A Rod tries again.

“I… don’t think I can say.”

“Why not?” Y/N doesn’t respond. “Are they someone on the team?” She blushes and looks down, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Holy shit it is. Now you have to tell us.” Abby demands. Y/N blushes even harder and shakes her head. “We won’t tell them. Unless it’s someone at this table.”

PART 5

#uswnt x reader #woso x reader #woso #fanfic #tobin heath #uswnt imagine #woso fanfics #reader insert #tobin heath x sister reader #teen reader #woso imagine #team as family #family #sister reader

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throneofsapphics · 11 months ago

Note

I figured I should ask before requesting but here goes nothing, again, ‼️TW‼️;

Can I request more angst with Az? Like uhmm.... Maybe the reader has extreme trust issues and she finally has opened up to Az but now that Elaine is here, she finds Ax drifting (not much but they don't do their normal dinners together as much as they used to, they don't bathe together as much, etc, small things she needs to that stability) and it starts to eat away at her but she doesn't want to tell Az about her feelings because she feels like a burden but then maybe Mor or someone convinces her to talk to him but he's had a long day so he snaps at her and leaves and she ends up... Offing herself..... Uhm.. and then Az's finding her body the next morning and his reaction and everyone else's too...... 👁️👁️

It only takes three

Azriel x Reader

Summary: “There were three words you came to say, three little syllables, and it only took three to shatter you.”

Warnings: suicide, pills & alcohol, suicidal ideation, angst

A/N: I appreciate you asking, thank you for the request! & what’s a little more trauma for the inner circle? know your triggers y'all, this is heavy

Azriel dedicated himself to gaining your trust. The one person who managed to knock those walls down, and it took decades before you’d opened up to him. Mor was a close second. Maybe it was a cliche, but he understood you, more than anyone else. He’d listened through everything, listened as you broke, and helped you put the pieces back together.

All these years, you’d been waiting and hoping he’d see it, hoping he’d feel the same bond you did. You were somewhere between friends and lovers, nothing ever clear or defined. But, you knew he was the one person you could rely on.

Resentment was ugly, and so was jealousy, but you couldn’t help those emotions as you watched his infatuation with the middle Archeron sister grow. It was nothing against her, she truly was a lovely person, and you could see why Azriel took an interest in her. The nasty little voice told you he’d grown tired of you, that you were too much, that he’d found someone less burdensome - as you’d always feared.

At first, you wrote it off as him being busy. That’s what he said - and he’d never lied to you. After the war with Hybern, things hadn’t quite settled and his workload was high. You tried to be understanding, to be respectful of the boundaries he’d subtly set. But you craved your old routine. Wednesday morning breakfasts, him slipping into your bed when he couldn’t sleep, bringing him tea when you knew he was working a late night. He used to always leave his door cracked, but recently it had been locked. Any knocks went unanswered, even though you could hear him inside. Instead, you’d leave the cup outside of his door, only to find it there in the mornings - untouched.

It really began to fall apart, to you, when you went to visit Feyre at the River House. Azriel said he had some kind of work mission, that he’d be out for the day, and as Feyre led you around, he was in the gardens, with Elain. You didn’t let him see you, instead you stuck out the rest of the tour with a smile, saving your tears for home.

It was a different type of torture, watching the one person destined for you fall in love with someone else. You tortured yourself too, holding on to hope he’d realize and he’d come back to you.

Finally, you built the courage to tell Mor. You needed a sounding board, someone to give some advice, someone outside of your head.

“Tell him,” Mor encouraged you, “he’ll understand.”

“He’s been pulling away, I don’t want him to think I’m trying to … I don't know, trap him.”

“Az,” she sighed, “he’s wanted to find his mate for … well maybe even for centuries. For a shadowsinger, he’s too stubborn to see what’s right in front of him,” her mouth curved up at one corner. “If you don’t tell him, he might never know. I imagine you’re tired of waiting.”

“You have no idea,” you laughed, but stood. Brave. Three words; I’m your mate, and at least the weight would be off your chest. Whatever happened next, whatever his reaction was, you could figure that out as it came. Despite the growing distance, he was still the person you trusted above all, and you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

For once, his door was open. This felt like a good sign.

“Az,” you called, peeking your head inside the room. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Tomorrow,” a clipped one word answer, not even bothering to look up from his desk.

“It really is important.”

“It can wait.” there was such a finality in his tone. Almost like he thought nothing regarding you could be important. But you wanted to give it one more shot.

“Please-”

“I don’t care, whatever it is, I. Don’t. Care.”

Well, he’d finally looked up at you, like you were some obnoxious fly he was trying to get rid of. Swallowing your tears, you nodded and turned away. Part of you knew you couldn’t promise tomorrow.

There were three words you came to say, three little syllables, and it only took three to shatter you. To shatter the fragile self he’d helped you build.

Maybe it was intentional. You knew exactly what this cocktail could do to you, and you wanted that sweet release to drag you under. When every breath felt like a chore, every word like an ache tearing out of you, it felt like the only option.

One hand clutched the bottle of pills, the other the bottle of wine.

Pills from a friend, who warned you taking too many could kill you. That warning was a siren call now.

You were already drunk when you poured the entire bottle into your hands, throwing them back without a second thought, wine washing them down. It would take you into sweet, sweet oblivion, and only the mother knew whether you’d wake up on this earth or not.

Maybe your soul could become one of those pretty little spirits, migrating on starfall. Or maybe you’d end up in another universe, like the ones you studied in the library. You giggled to yourself. Anywhere else felt like a better option now.

You were definitely hallucinating, because three little butterflies floated in front of you, reaching out you felt them touch your fingers. Was it welcoming? Or an omen? The butterflies faded, bursting into dust, and the tears began. A few minutes later, you knew nothing.

“Where’s y/n?” Mor asked Azriel as he stalked into the room. He was still in a piss-poor mood, and this was the last thing he wanted to do this morning. Going to a court meeting.

“Do I look like her keeper?”

Mor seemed a bit confused by his response. “Can you get her?”

He wanted to ask; why not you, but it felt a bit too childish. Besides, he needed to talk about last night anyway. Too late, a shadow whispered in his ear. It’s never too late, he could fix this. Taking the stairs two at a time, he headed for your bedroom. Shadows swirled around him, in front of him, searching and … storming the room. They unlocked the door before he could, gone, gone, gone, they whispered to him. Had you left in the middle of the night? He couldn’t hear you in there, but your scent was still fresh.

And alcohol. A pit settled in his stomach. Gone. Too late.

Azriel pushed the door open. Not in your room. A small click and his shadows opened the door to your bathing room. There were sweet and tender memories from that room. Him washing your hair, delicately working through the strands that always seemed tangled, you washing his wings.

He didn’t think this would be one of those memories.

Pushing the door open, he fell to his knees.

Mor heard the guttural scream, one of pain and sorrow. Something she’d never heard from Az. Mor didn’t bother taking the stairs, and winnowed to your door. Directly across from her, another door was swung open, offering her a clear view. Azriel on his knees in front of … your body. Lips blue, skin white. His hands pressed down on your chest, up and down, up and down.

“You’re late,” Rhys said, echoing through her mind. She only cast the image to him. Within a minute, more voices and footsteps sounded inside the house. Mor had already crossed the room, kneeling next to Azriel, her magic searching desperately for a sign of life.

Minutes later, Madja was there, crowding in behind her. Cassian pulled a thrashing Azriel away from your body.

Mor could only stand by the door, mouth parted and body still in shock.

An empty pill bottle, one blue pill laying next to your hand, as if it had fallen out. An empty bottle of wine on the floor, dregs of red liquid still gathering in the bottle.

Today was supposed to be good. Last night, you’d told Azriel you were his mate. She was prepared for the two of you to miss today entirely.

Something had gone terribly wrong. Whirling around, she took one step closer to the shadowsinger, each movement laced with fury, entire body trembling.

“Did you reject her?” Mor had skipped the earthly and deadly quiet, and screamed at Az, power rumbling through the room.

“What do you mean reject?”

“She is - was - your mate.”

Azriel felt like his world stopped. Each word sliced into his chest. Mate.

That’s what you wanted to tell him, and he told you, unequivocally, that he didn’t care. He was the person you trusted above all others, at one point. The one who spent decades breaking down those walls, slowly and carefully gaining your trust. Decades working towards that goal, and a year to throw it away.

This was his fault.

He could imagine the hopeful look on your face as you peeked into his door. If he’d seen that … if he’d just looked.

“Az, can I talk to you about something?” Fuck, he’d forgotten to lock his door. Papers obscured his entire vision. Today had been too damn much, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone. It wasn’t specifically you.

“Tomorrow,”

“It really is important.” Desperation, but he knew there wasn’t much going on in your life. A shadow swirled angrily at the callous thoughts.

“It can wait.”

“Please-”

He looked at you, your face had fallen. The beginnings of tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Listen, listen, listen, his shadows were nearly begging. Tomorrow, he told them.

“I don’t care, whatever it is, I. Don’t. Care.”

You finally left. A small tinge of guilt, but he’d make it up to you tomorrow, or maybe the next day - that would be Wednesday, and he’d get up early to bring you breakfast, the old tradition you’d fallen out of habit with. Something easily revived.

Tomorrow, however, would be chock full of meetings. Meetings you’d be at too, and he’d make the time to hear you out, to apologize.

Now, a shadow curled next to his ear, pleading. He ignored it. They’d always favored you, and now he’d even say they were fussing. You were strong enough.

Azriel had ignored everything. Ignored each warning sign, ignored the desperate pleas of his shadows and the tears on your face. You cried, but it was never often.

“It’s my fault,” he said - more to himself. “My fault.”

He felt himself crumble, felt everything he used to keep himself in check slip away, his magic threatening to burst from him, to turn this house to rubble. He didn’t fight as Rhys grabbed him, as he winnowed him out to somewhere far out in the mountains. His brother released him as soon as they landed, but didn’t leave, he didn’t abandon him. Rhys should’ve, should’ve left him out here to bury himself. That’s what he deserved.

The ground shook, parts of the mountains surrounding him faded into dust, snow flooded down the sides, birds squawked as they fled. He spent hours, hours and hours up there - until his siphons dulled, until he felt his magic start to protest, until Rhys had to knock him unconscious before he let it tear him apart.

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #acotar drabble #acotar x reader

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toji-sweetheart · 4 months ago

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𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 | 𝐞. 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: After not seeing your boyfriend for a while, you two set aside some time for each other for him to smoke you out and do other things that he's missed.

wc: 3.4k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + dubcon because weed + shotgunning + talks about anal play (he does stick his thumb in there) and butt plug + talks about a threesome

A giggle escaped your lips watching Eren attempting to blow o-rings as the both of you lay on top of the mattress. “That’s not how it’s done, by the way, Ren.” You hummed stretching your legs over his lap with a small groan.

He brought his free hand down to run his fingers over your calves while puffing the joint again looking at you while puckering his lips.

You giggled again and leaned in using your hands to keep yourself supported to slot your mouth against his sucking the smoke out heavy and thick letting it settle over your tongue as you inhaled and smiled leaning back against the bed.

“Since you know how to do it then why don’t you show me?” He asked handing you the lit joint and watching you take it placing it between your lips and taking a hit blowing o-rings with ease with a smug grin as you winked and settled further in the covers, his vibrant eyes now hazy and red scanned your barely clad body.

Lately, between classes and the part-time jobs you both have it’s been a while since you’ve two been able to hang out only FaceTiming each other late after homework and dinner when quiet time fell upon the dorm rooms.

Your roommate loathed the time trying to drown out your laughs and Eren’s lame jokes.

Eren rolled his eyes and trailed his fingers up your legs over your thighs playing with the hem of your panties that peaked out from under the shirt you wore before moving down parting your legs to get a better look.

He chuckled and took the joint from you taking a hit tilting his head and blowing the smoke watching it curl and dissipate. “Let’s hope the RA doesn’t catch us.” You teased and moved to straddle his lap pressing against where you both were the neediest.

“I lit four candles so we’re good and I opened the window to air it out.” He said and leaned his head against the wall for several seconds letting his high buzz in the back of his skull, your laughter broke him out of his trance as he looked at you raising an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?”

You shook your head covering your mouth, unable to help but spill more laughter sharing in the same feeling your boyfriend felt, his lips split in a handsome grin as he tugged you further down on his lap digging his fingers in the plush of your thighs.

“You just look so cute like this, your hair is all messy and you’re looking at me like I’m something you want to eat.” You whispered, feeling your cunt clench.

Eren hummed trying to swallow, finding it hard partly due to cottonmouth and the burning arousal coursing through him. It's been almost two months since he’s been able to be like this with you, wrapped up in each other without the bother of other people around you both.

“Because you are something I’d love to devour.” He murmured huskily and knelt between your legs leaning over to place the joint down in the ashtray on your nightstand before shedding his shirt and tossing it on the floor while you propped yourself up using your elbows once you moved on his lap.

Eren helped lay you on your back while he kneeled between your legs.

He licked his lips and grabbed your ankle placing soft kisses softly nibbling on the skin making you giggle again, he smirked and switched to your other one supporting your leg and giving it the same treatment.

You groaned when he trailed down reaching the sensitive spot just under the bottom hem of your shorts stroking over and over again listening to your whimpering, his tongue traced your throbbing clit over your panties wetting the fabric and making it sticky with spit and your slick.

Your fingers found purchase in the soft locks of his hair soon as he nuzzled against your cunt now with his nose inhaling deeply your sweet and musky aroma, his mouth filled with drool being so close to you like this. Part of him wanted to take his time but the other half wanted to bury his aching cock deep inside you.

“Ren!” You whined tugging on his hair feeling him circle your clit with the tip of his tongue while hooking his fingers in the band of your panties pulling away to discard them before turning back to your thighs littering them in small bite marks leaving teeth indentions in the soft flesh before turning to your cunt once more, he kissed your pussy over and over again making out with it.

“Mhm, I missed you so much but I also missed your sweet little cunt too.” He murmured tracing your pussylips with his tongue dragging it through your wetness that tasted like the sweetest candy.

Eren moved his hand to your cheeks pinching softly watching you drop your jaw so he could stuff your underwear in your mouth with a grin and low chuckle, your eyes went wide with the heavy taste of your arousal sitting on your tongue. “Good girl, you look so cute like that.” He teased caressing your puffed-out cheeks before swiping up the spit that spilled down your chin.

He moved back down between your legs laying flat on his stomach face to face with your bare cunt now, Eren splayed you open using his middle and index finger staring at you causing heat to pool in your lower stomach mixing in with the heavy feeling from the joint, pleasure shocked you to the core when he made contact pulling a moan from you, he started at your slick entrance rimming the fluttering hole with his tongue barely dipping in before licking up to your clit sucking on the bud with a groan that vibrated through him.

“Taste’s sweet.” He murmured letting his fingers join, he easily slid them inside you curling against the rough spot of your g-spot massaging with the tips before thrusting in and out tandem with his sucking, his eyes fluttered shut growing drunk on the taste of you, his body felt like it was melting in the bed as did you, bliss blinded you as your orgasm was on the brink already and Eren could tell.

“Not yet princess, just hold out for me, can you do that?” He asked pulling away and adding another finger hearing the wet squelch with a satisfied grin you nodded and bit your bottom lip trying to hold on for him, your thighs shivered and burned as your muscles contracted while tightening your grip on his hair humping his mouth and fingers that kept slipping out slowly only to go back in even slower covering them in your slick.

“Eren! Pwease!” You sobbed muffled through the fabric of your panties while feeling tears prick in the corner of your eyes.

“Oh, poor thing, you’re so sensitive from smoking, aren’t you? And I thought my name was Ren.” He said and pouted playfully nipping your thighs again making you yelp as he went deeper with his digits kissing up until he reached the soft hair on your pubic bone before backing away to watch his fingers disappear in the soft layers of your cunt, his eyes were lust-blown and low seeing the way you sucked him in while moaning his name arching your back while pushing your underwear out of your mouth.

You wanted to tell him to stop being so smug and make you cum but you couldn’t lie, it was fun playing like this trying to see how long he can keep you on edge before tumbling into the pit of pleasure, you sighed and shut your eyes focusing in on your breathing that grew ragged when he sucked your clit again swirling with the tip of his tongue, “A-are you spelling your name?” You asked with a gasp when he chuckled with the bud still in his mouth.

It wasn’t that hard to tell what he was doing, it was something he’d mentioned once or twice in passing and he spelled his entire name out without missing a single beat or stroke, you crushed his head between your thighs unable to hold out any longer feeling your orgasm wash over you. “Cum for me pretty girl, you can do it.” He cooed pulling your climax from you.

Your cunt throbbed and pulsed around his fingers coating them in a white creamy essence that oozed out around his fingers, he was quick to lap it up licking you clean while slowly pulling his fingers out.

He massaged your thighs peppering them in kisses letting you come down. “Are you okay?” He asked looking up at you while you nodded and sat up looking at his chin that glistened from the soft light of the lamp in the corner. You giggled again slicking the hair that fell in his face back before grabbing the joint lighting the burnt end again taking a deep puff and blowing the smoke over to Eren who laughed and leaned in kissing you.

“How was that?” He asked setting back into his spot and spreading his legs, you glanced down seeing the tent, and laughed again handing him the joint before sitting between his thighs and placing either hand on top of them staring at him.

“No one can make me feel like that, I missed you so much and that too.” You whispered slowly pulling the band of his shorts down revealing his cock that stood thick and heavy, two veins ran up either side that pulsed, the swollen head was red and angry with pre-cum that dribbled down pooling at the base.

His mouth parted in a silent moan when you tried to wrap your fingers around him struggling a bit making him chuckle lowly while petting your head stroking his fingers over your hair.

He looked down at your hand raising an eyebrow. “Just like that.” He whispered placing his hand on top of yours slowly going up and down and pumping his cock while looking into your eyes.

“Spread your legs, pretty girl.”

You quickly did as you were told giving him access to his hand that reached down to cup your pussy rubbing it with his palm grinding your clit slowly making your hand stutter and stop.

“Why’d you stop?” Eren asked thrusting his middle finger in your cunt matching your slow pace with a grin.

Your hips rolled trying to dampen the fire dull aching inside you, you picked up the pace and bent down kissing his cock head before opening your mouth talking him halfway in hearing him gasp, his eyes fluttered shut as he brought the joint up to his mouth taking a few more hits before putting it down so he could lift your shirt to see his hand before reaching up to cup your breast brushing your nipple with his fingers.

“Oh-fuck-keep going baby girl.” Eren moaned as you relaxed your throat taking him in this time burying your nose in the soft curly hair, your eyes shut bobbing up and down slowly pulling off with a wet pop.

“Mhm, like this Ren?” You asked pumping up and down with a tortuous pace that made him grunt and roll his eyes as he added another finger.

“Yes.” He hissed bucking his hips up and circling your clit with his thumb, he choked on his next words when you went back down on him coating his dick in spit that pooled around the base and down his sack that you cupped and squeezed slightly while running your tongue up the underside of his sensitive cock. He whined when you sucked on the head again swirling your tongue around lapping up the pre-cum.

Eren pulled his fingers out spreading you open and letting you rock against his open palm growing frustrated with the lack of friction on your clit making him chuckle. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and grabbed your tongue gently pulling it out before slapping his heavy dick against it with a small groan. “I can’t decide if my cock looks better in your mouth or buried in your pussy.” He whispered cupping your jaw and watching as you attempted to take him in.

He moaned growing closer to his climax while pushing you towards your second one, you teased his head bobbing up and down with precise movements keeping him on edge too, stopping when you felt him throb against your tongue. Slobber coated your chin and cheeks keeping up the slow pace growing faster, growing desperate for him to cum. His thighs burned from his release that was wound up tight like a ball slowly fraying until it snapped and he was cumming draining his balls down your throat.

“Don’t swallow yet.” He whispered as you pulled up with his cum still coating your tongue as you opened your mouth showing him. Eren slid his fingers in smearing the sticky white fluid and letting you suck on them before he pulled away and smirked patting your cheek before pushing his shorts off throwing them on the floor as he lifted your shirt taking it off while kissing and licking his way up your stomach to your breasts sucking on your nipple while tweaking the other one drinking in your moans and the way you fisted his hair bringing him closer. “Ren! Please I want you so bad.” You begged laying down with him following you caging you below him.

His eyes burned into yours with deep emotions, the love he has for you was never something you questioned. When he looked at you like this, it made your heart skip a beat and stutter in your chest. His hand slid behind your head as he bent down capturing your lips in a sweet and long kiss that left you breathless as he pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered against his lips staring into his eyes that showed you his genuine affection.

He hummed and sat up looking down at you trailing the tip of his finger down starting at your sternum following the path between the valley of your breasts going further down as he traced your belly button then finally reached your cunt as he slowly pushed his finger in groaning and shutting his eyes feeling the soft and plush walls of your cunt suck him in. “You just want my cock, don’t you baby girl?” He asked with a lazy grin.

“Y-yes!” You choked on your answer when his mouth attached to your nipple again tracing the pebbled bud before trailing hot and wet open-mouthed kisses to the other one sucking slightly while barely rocking in and out of you, the faint pleasure flooded your foggy head again making you whine softly reaching down to touch his chest needing something to ground you, his warm flesh contracted under your touch.

“Hands and knees,” Eren said pulling away completely helping you get into position with your face buried in a pillow and your ass high in the air, his hand came down on your left cheek with a light slap that caught and kept your attention but not enough to hurt.

“Oh, you look so fucking beautiful like this for me, your pretty pussy on view and that ass too. All for me.” He whispered sliding his finger over your puckered hole.

“Imagine if I stuffed a little plug in there, maybe something with a green jewel or even a tail so I can pull on it.” He teased gripping his dick softly and swirling the head around your clit slowly before thrusting just the head in keeping his self-control in check when all he wanted to do was bottom out in a single snap of his hips, you were so wet and warm his eyes shut briefly gripping your waist slightly now as he rutted against you barely giving you both the satisfaction you pressed harder against him whining again.

“So needy for my dick, aren’t you princess?” He asked stroking your back with his free hand and watching you arch into his touch.

“Stop fucking around Ren, we haven’t seen each other in so long-” You were cut off as he slammed against you rocking you forward, his balls hitting you with a soft pat as he gripped your ass cheeks now spreading them as his eyes dropped down seeing his cock buried in you to the hilt. You let out something between a gasp and a moan feeling him pull out leaving the head in again before lazily pushing back in feeling every ridge and bump while you felt him throb inside you.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked stroking in and out with short and hard thrusts, it almost felt like he was kissing your cervix in this position when he was in holding your hips pulling you forward and back while slapping your ass randomly never letting you guess when the blow would land adding to the mind-numbing bliss that rattled around in your skull growing slowly down into your limbs making you feel heavy.

Pleasure and pain mixed each time his hand came down before massaging the sensitive flesh. “You do have a cute ass that’s just begging to be stuffed with either a plug or maybe even another cock, do you want that? What about Armin? I’m sure he’d love to double-stuff you.” He whispered bending down to kiss your shoulder and keeping his pace up.

Your cunt milked him while you created the image in your head. Eren below you with Armin behind you, both of them thrusting in rhythm, in and out while whispering sweet nothings in your ears. “Mhm, someone like that?” Eren asked moving to your other shoulder softly sinking his teeth in the flesh before sitting straight up again. His hands found their way back to your ass where his thumb traced the tight hole pressing in ever so slightly.

You gasped and pushed against him offering more of yourself to him in a silent plea. “Use your words.” He said pushing in more.

“Harder fuck me harder Ren!” You babbled feeling drool spill down the side of your mouth smearing it into the pillow and letting him spread your legs wider while pushing on your lower back with his free hand, his thumb popped in and he left it there while fucking you rough and fast, his hair fell damp with sweat that lingered in your small room along with the heavy scent of sex, the cheap bed frame creaked on the verge of almost breaking with Eren’s rough thrusts.

He got lost in your cunt, the way you felt had him throwing his head back chanting your name like you were a Goddess and to him you were, he worshiped you. His cock throbbed deep inside you as he stilled bottoming out with his thumb still in place he stayed keeping you two connected like this, sweat rolled down his back as he wiped his forehead with the back of his free hand.

You both panted trying to catch your breaths and keeping your climaxes on the back burner, you twitched around him and circled your hips wanting him to continue again. “Just wait for a minute baby, I want to savor this as long as we can.” He whispered pulling out and sliding back in looking down at the creamy white ring you left around his cock. Eren always loved to watch himself disappear in the soft lips on your cunt, so welcoming he thought.

He grunted extracting his thumb to grasp your hips again keeping you in place while rutting harshly against you watching the way the flesh of your ass jiggled each time his balls slapped your clit gently, both of you moaned each other’s names growing closer, your orgasm burst like a Firework stand, you squeezed your shuts shut and fisted the sheets succumbing to the hot pleasure that split at the seams.

“Eren! Fuck!” You moaned loudly not caring if you woke up anyone, he wasn’t far behind you, especially in the way you milked him pushing him into his second climax.

“Going to stuff your pretty cunt with all of my cum.” Eren slurred cumming again in thick hot ropes that painted your insides white, he stayed there for several seconds panting as he slowly pulled out watching it drip out, quickly he cupped your pussy spreading his cum everywhere making it a mess.

He fell next to you sweaty as he pulled you into his arms letting you rest your head against his chest while he kissed the crown of your head with a soft smile. “Let’s never go that long without seeing each other, ok?” He whispered hearing you giggle.

“But it makes for some hot sex.”

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

#✍🏻minx writes #tw: dubcon #tw: weed #Eren smut #Eren Yeager smut #eren x reader smut #eren x you smut #aot smut #aot x reader smut #Eren Jeager smut #Eren Jeager x you smut #attack on titan smut #eren x y/n smut #eren x you #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren yeager

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midnightjewel · 5 months ago

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BNHA Guys Reacting to Your Kids Cartoons and Movies

Kids shows and movies say some pretty out of pocket things that you usually won’t catch or find funny unless you’re an adult

Characters Included: Bakugo and Kirishima

Part 2

Bakugo

As Bakugo arrived home he couldn’t help but sigh deeply as he stretched out the stress of the hectic work day. As he turned his key in the door, he didn’t hear the usual loud noise coming from inside the house as you struggled to wrangle the kids into bed. He had hoped that you had gotten them to settle with no issue tonight but his hopes were not high. His brats were terribly energetic at night.

As he strides into the house, hanging his keys on the hook by the door to avoid the hassle of looking for them in the morning he hears the faint sound of the tv coming from the family room. The lights were off but as he got closer he saw the flashing lights of the television. The ash blond man peered into the family room and smiled slightly as he saw his two sons sitting at the coffee table munching on chicken nuggets and some french fries. One had ketchup and one had ranch despite them both being exact carbon copies of him and each other he found it kind of funny that they were quite the opposite of each other when it came to the little things like that.

He decided against nagging them for being up so late. At least they weren’t fighting and that’s all he cared about to be completely honest. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with the bickering after the long day he had. He was about to walk to the kitchen to fix something quick to eat when something on the television caught his attention. The boys were watching ratatouille and the scene where Linguine is attempting to explain his little chef to Colette was on.

“I have this tiny… little…” the character attempts to reveal the rat in his hat that is the secret to his cooking success. Bakugo watches as the woman’s eyes advert down with a slightly disgusted look referring to something more suggestive and he can’t help but bust out laughing causing the boys to turn around with confused looks on their faces

“What?” His oldest son whom was only 8 years old questions him as his 6 year old brother has the same confused look on his features as they watch their father laugh at something that they couldn’t understand. “N-Nothing” he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye “Ah that’s great” he shakes his head as he walks into the kitchen while continuing to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow as you close the dishwasher and start it. As he explains the scene to you, you can’t help but lightly laugh and shake your head at his immaturity for dirty jokes

Kirishima

You had been out all day. Despite it being your day off you dropped your son off at school this morning, cleaned the entire house, and ran errands until it was time to pick Renji up from school and even then you still had to take him grocery shopping with you. As you walked into the house, cloth grocery bags on each arm you sighed deeply “I helped you mommy!” Your son smiles widely as he hold one of the bags. “Yes you did honey!” You explain as you both set the bags down in the kitchen yours on the island and his on the floor as he could not reach the island just yet.

“Go watch some TV while mommy gets dinner ready, yeah?” You smile at him and he nods “Okay Mommy!” He skips off to the television room that also doubles as his play room so you knew he’d be able to indulge in some of his toys and television while you worked on dinner

You breathed out in relief as you removed your heels. You hated heels even if they were short, you just had to look your best out in public. You couldn’t bare the idea of the media and tabloids saying anything about your appearance so you had made sure to always look your best. Some other pro hero’s wife’s may not care but you did. Maybe it was a bad thing but it would send you spiraling if there was a bad picture of you in the internet.

“Hey I’m home!” You hear your husband call out as he walks into the parlor of your large house. He put his shoes by the door and hangs his coat on the hook. “How’s my beautiful wife?” He gives you a kiss on your forehead “Did you enjoy your day off?” He inquired and you shook your head no. He looks taken aback by this response “No?” He questioned “But why?”

“Oh Eiji, I’ve just been running around all day doing errands” you sigh “I could really use a few minutes” you say as you complete putting away the groceries together. “Mhm” he nods “Do you need anything from me?” He questions and you nod “Yeah, can you watch Renji? He’s in the family room” you explain “Of course, anything for my lovely lady” he gives you a quick kiss and ushers you to go take a warm shower

“But what about dinner?” You ask as you both stand at the foot of the staircase that leads to the upstairs bedrooms “Don’t you worry about anything baby, I’ve got it all handled” he grins as you nod and start your journey up the stairs to the master bedroom.

As Ejirou walks to the doorway of the family room the movie that his son is watching catches his eye. He has always been a sucker for kids movies even as an adult. Renji was watching Toy Story and there was a scene between Woody and Bow Peep “I wanted to thank you for saving my flock” the porcelain doll speaks to the cowboy doll “Oh hey, it was nothing” he shrugs “What do you say I get someone else to watch the sheep tonight” she speaks in a tone almost too sultry for a kids movie “Oh yeah” he chuckles and the scene can’t help but make Kirishima chuckle a little bit

“What’s so funny dad?” The 7 year old turns with a confused look on his face “Nothing that just reminds me of me and your mom” he laughs to himself before walking to the kitchen to start dinner

#anime #bnha #my hero academia #mha kirishima #mha bakugou #kirishima fluff #eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #domestic Kirishima #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #domestic bakugo #mha

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sunlitlemonade · 3 months ago

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From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:

the kick drop n. the moment you wake up from an immersive dream and have to abruptly recalibrate to the real world—unquitting your job, falling right back out of love, reburying your lost loved ones. In American football, the drop kick is when a player drops the ball and kicks it as it bounces off the ground, used as a method of restarting play.

—

16th August. 8:45 pm.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Cass stands beside him, silent and patient.

“Happy birthday, kid,” he says and chokes on it, the unerasable love, the still-festering guilt. He closes his eyes for a second.

Haltingly, which is uncharacteristic, Cass speaks to fill the heavy air. “No one talks about him. All I know is… he was the second Robin. And that the Joker ki—”

He cuts her off, the words an unnecessary reminder. The wound is ever-present and dear and he pokes at it like he can’t bear for it to heal. On this day though, every year since his passing, he shoves his hand inside and parses his fingers out with blood and the remains of his mangled heart trailing behind.

“He would have been eighteen today. He loved cars and girls and getting into fights…. Neapolitan ice-cream and the colour green,” he pauses, gathering meagre strength. “And most of all he loved the thrill of being Robin.”

Robin gives me magic!

—

16th August. 9 pm.

Alfred sets dinner. Cass insists on helping. Alfred refuses. Cass doesn’t listen.

He sits and watches.

Finally they settle down and eat. He barely manages to stomach it.

This is a spiral he knows well, he has memorised every curve. He knows exactly how deep he has managed to reach.

He knows he can go far lower.

—

16th August. 9:25 pm.

The bedroom’s air is stale. He’s hardly spent much time here in the past week. He sees how quickly things grow old, how easily the air shrinks in a space closed-off and forgotten.

His feet take him to his [dead] son’s room. [Dead. He’s dead. He died three years ago. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s—]

He doesn’t open the door. He goes back to his room, shuts the door behind him.

—

He wakes up to a pleasantly sunny day. He stretches luxuriously and hears footsteps bound up the stairs. It’s Tim.

He pounds at the door and tells him to “Rise and shine!”. Before Bruce can answer, the door is thrown wide open and Ace bounds in, jumping on the bed like he owns it. First, he slobbers all over Bruce’s face with his tongue. Then, he sits back and looks at him expectantly.

Absent-mindedly scratching him behind his ears, he raises a brow at Tim, who’s leaning against the threshold. “Good morning. You’re supposed to be at school.”

“And you were supposed to drop me off before your meeting today.”

…. He did promise that, didn’t he? He sighs and shoots him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry—”

Tim waves it off with a flippant gesture. “Oh, it’s fine. We had a presentation today, I’m glad I could skip. I had nothing ready.”

“Tim.”

“What? I was busy, alright? Anyways, I’m grievously sick and Mrs. Wilkins feels bad for me so I have an extension.”

“Maybe you should use that time to complete your work instead of terrorising me.”

“I’m holding you accountable. You were the one supposed to be dropping me off!”

“Why didn’t you ask Jason?”

“He said he had to pick up Rena on his way to college and if he took a detour to drop me off he would be late.”

“That’s fair.”

“Want to know why I had to resort to even asking him? Take a wild guess.”

He sighs again. “Because I didn’t drop you off. I’m sorry, it was a really hectic day yesterday. We could get some donuts together later?”

“Hmm. Ace, come on, boy. Come here.”

“Where are you both going?”

“For a morning walk.”

“It’s eleven. It’s sunny.”

“A midday walk then,” Tim replies, undeterred. “Besides, some sunshine once in a while might do you good.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Tim’s face scrunches up with barely concealed offence. “Hey! We don’t get any sunlight here as it is and I have time to kill today—”

“Untrue. You have pending work—”

His volume picks up to support the thin veil of ignorance and procrastination. “SO! I will be walking Ace today. Right now. Your meeting is in twenty minutes.”

“Fuck.” He could dump it on Lucius. He hears Ace’s excited barks as Tim takes him down the stairs. He has already failed at being an adult today.

He fumbles into the meeting nearly an hour late and throws an airheaded smile to the room. It’s long, it’s boring, he signed up for it.

By the time he gets back home it’s late in the evening. Talia is back too after a day of browsing gowns to dazzle every guest at Dick’s upcoming wedding. She presses her smile against the corner of his mouth and Bruce chases after it like he doesn’t get to kiss her everyday.

“Found a dress?”

“I’m getting it custom-made.”

Of course she was. Thorny as her relationship with Dick was, Talia had taken to the preparations like a particularly invested fairy godmother pulling ideas, locations, caterers and gods knew what else from all around the world. So far, they had settled on New York (because Dick insisted), though they didn’t have the venue decided just yet, and a baker known for crafting beautiful cakes.

They still had months to go but Talia wasn’t one to budge. She thought Bruce and Tim needed something better to wear for the reception whereas wholeheartedly approved of whatever Jason had decided upon. He had told her it was favouritism. She had only smiled and said Jason had good taste.

He pulls her into a proper hug, sighing against her neck. Her nails scratch against his scalp slightly when her fingers sift through his hair. He presses her closer wanting to melt into one, they fit so perfectly. The rose brooch pin holding her dress together at her shoulder digs into his chest though and he pulls back. Sometimes being too close hurts.

She kisses him once more before calling out to Cass, who was walking past making a mock gagging gesture, and steering her towards the staircase.

Alfred passes by behind him and Bruce turns around to see him opening the doors for Jason. He spots the red convertible that's his son’s favourite parked near the fountain.

Windswept curls and flushed cheeks, bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Bruce’s heart squeezes with affection so dangerously hard that he risks his ribs folding in on themselves.

“Hey, old man.”

His smile is too large and loopy, he knows it. He can’t help it. “Jay.”

Hands shoved in his green jacket's pocket, Jason gets closer and his smile blooms into a grin to match Bruce’s own. “What’s got you smiling?”

“Nothing.”

A raised brow. He was so much like Bruce but only the best parts. Bruce couldn’t be more thankful.

“Seriously, it’s nothing,” Bruce insists to avoid being called a sap. “How was college today?”

He started only a month back and had been loving it so far. Bruce still asked whenever he could because he couldn’t help but fret.

Jason rolls his eyes but it’s half-hearted. “Good,” he says, then adds, “I went out with Rena after class.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Ah, well, we were only hanging out, got some ice-cream.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Dad.”

His heart skips a giddy beat. Dad.

“What? I’m happy for you.” It's a feeble act of innocence and Jason is obviously unimpressed by it.

“She’s just a friend.”

“Yet you mention her without me having to prompt you.”

And oh, the grumpy pout on his face at that. His spitfire of a son could be the sweetest.

“I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

A sardonic smile. “Sure. That’s helpful. Thanks.”

“Listen, I don’t know how I got here either.”

“Talia pitied you.”

Bruce ruffles his bedhead. “Brat.”

“You know it’s true.”

Bruce sighs. It seems like parents do a lot of sighing. “It is.”

“Now that this is settled,” Alfred cuts in, “could you both make your way to the living room of the West Wing’s first floor? Master Timothy says it is movie night. Food will be served there.”

Alfred hated having them eat anywhere that wasn’t the dining table. Tim must have practised puppy dog eyes.

They reach the room and Jason immediately pushes Tim off the couch. Draping his lanky frame over the cushions, he grins down at his brother. Tim scowls at him. Jason nonchalantly toes his shoes off and lets them drop over the armrest’s side. Tim opens his mouth, undoubtedly about to start a fight when Bruce cuts in.

“Tim.”

His son whips his face to him, an accusatory finger pointed at his older, unrepentant brother. Bruce smoothly makes his way to the couch, lifts Jason’s legs, plops down to slouch into the soft material and lets his legs fall over his lap.

Tim’s jaw drops open. “Did you see—”

“Some trusted sources have informed me that you haven’t completed your work yet.”

“I have! Almost. I just need to cite my sources and shit—”

“Language.”

“It’s almost done. Did you not just see what he did?”

“I did and I think you deserve it after last week’s prank.”

“.... In my defence, that was funny. To me,” comes the petulant reply.

“So was this. To me,” Bruce throws back, just as unapologetic.

Jason’s shit-eating grin only widens as Tim accepts defeat and curls up at Bruce’s feet, letting his head rest against his thigh distractedly. He immediately recoils and glares at Jason.

“You have smelly feet.”

Jason’s response is stretching his leg a bit further to bring his toes closer to Tim’s face. The younger boy gets up in annoyance and throws himself on the beanbag near the couch. “Keep…. those things away from me. Ugh.”

Talia arrives with Cass and Jason instantly retracts his legs from his lap and straightens up to make space for them. Talia sits beside him while Cass occupies the other beanbag.

This close, Bruce can see the way his eyes almost crinkle shut when he dimples at Talia. They talk in soft tones, discussing the colour of tablecloths and balloons and “oh, there has to be blue”.

The movie starts and they quieten. Chatter picks up again because “that’s absolute nonsense!” and “shut up, bro, it’s not that deep”. Jason says something crass in return and Talia lets out a startled, full-bellied laugh before she swats his head and tells him to behave.

He gets to have this.

Time gets blurry at the edges like a long-forgotten song. At some undetermined time the movie is paused so everyone can carry plates full of food to the room and drag Alfred to watch the movie with them. Some undetermined time later Cass falls asleep and Tim gets up to fetch one of the blankets thrown over a chair pushed into the corner. He doesn’t take his eyes off the movie for a second, it’s a talent. Bruce motions for him to bring another along with him, noticing Jason's half-lidded eyes.

Sure enough, his blinks get slower and slower. He snuggles into his side and even as he’s a little taller, if thinner, he makes it work somehow. Bruce rests an arm around him and watches his eyes droop shut. Summer has made his freckles reappear.

Talia smiles when she catches his eyes over their son’s head. She covers him in the blanket Tim had gotten for them and refocuses on the movie.

Jason’s warm breath ghosts over his clavicle, his curls brushing against his neck. He smells like the citrus shampoo Dick had recommended to them all. Bruce rubs his back soothingly, feeling his lips curve up with something bubbly in his chest.

The movie ends. Everyone on the screen is tearful but happy.

Tim is sleepy too and Talia gently rouses Cass to take them both to their bedrooms.

“Hey, Jay,” he whispers against his temple. “Hey, wake up.”

Jason doesn’t move.

“Jay? Wake up, buddy. Movie’s over.”

Jason doesn’t wake up.

There’s blood on his temple. Bruce pulls back.

He wasn’t mistaken. There is actually blood sliding down to the knob of his jaw.

He cups his face and shakes him.

“Jay? Jason! Jason?” another hard shake. “Jason, please.”

He stretches the soft skin under his eye to check his eyes, not knowing what to do. It’s not the perfect blue of a June sky. It’s glassy.

He stands up to pick him up and notices, for the first time, that it’s not a blanket. It’s a cape, it’s a shroud.

—

17th August. 4:17 am.

Bruce palms are clammy. He picks his head up from the messy desk. The computer screen has gone blank. His bed remains undisturbed.

There’s not even the ticking of a clock to keep him company, just the subtle white noise of the air conditioning unit. Heartbeat in his ears, breathe out of his lungs, he rises shakily.

In the bathroom, he picks up the citrusy shampoo and puts it in the dustbin. He smashes his fist against the shower’s glass cubicle and kneels down with a bloody hand.

[the entire thing is inspired by batman #790 (1937) also note that this is bruce's version of a perfect world, not mine. dick has commitment issues in my head & brutalia is best left at something melancholic & haunting. that's about it? happy birthday, jason! wish i had something about you but instead you ended up being a ghost for your dad here.... maybe i'll have something better cooked up next year? <3]

#jason todd #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #cassandra cain #brutalia #tim drake #dc #alfred pennyworth #real ones will know i posted this a while back ao3 & deleted it lol #polished it up for his bday tho! so... yeah. bon appetit ig

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

Text

family rules (alternate version)

satoru gojo x f!reader

in which you’re the one who gets in the accident this time, not satoru and megumi

**read the other ones here

content warning: car accident, mentions of glass and blood, reader in pain satoru says daddy, megumi wants you to break satoru’s neck

an: for all my very lovely family rules fans, this is the part for the request I received here. I hope you all enjoy :D

Satoru pushes his key into the door, swinging the door open as he calls out to the three of you. He’s balancing the pink box in his hands, very excited to see your very irritated face when you open it.

He stops for a second, eyeing the light purple around Megumi’s eye as you push green peas into his face, before turning to the fridge to steal your leftovers from last night.

He can feel you opening the box out of his peripheral vision, preparing his silly little consolation piece to calm you down. He knows you’ll be irritated, obviously, but he’s always sweet talked his way out of situations, especially with you. He just wanted to ease the air after the lecture you were probably going to give Megumi, settle everyone down.

“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs? I need to talk to Gojo over here.” you say, watching you press a very strained smile to your face.

Maybe the cake was too far. He should have settled for balloons instead.

“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?”

“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he leans over, pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he sets out to set the plates for dinner.

“Satoru. Be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.”

He can feel the stinging in his chest, the anger developing in his chest. He would be lying by saying things were perfect between the two of you, as of late. The two of you were polar opposites, something he always considered as a strength to your relationship. When he was drifting away too far, you grounded him in reality. When you were too stuck in the little things, he always reminded you of the big picture. You worked - moon and sun, salt and pepper, black and white. However, the two of you had been finding it harder to find compromises lately, arguing more lately, especially when it came to Megumi.

It’s a few fights, not mass murdering people. If anything, Megumi’s doing very well, considering who his father is and what happened. He’s doing very well, considering the fact that he’s being raised by two twenty year olds. Satoru’s doing very well, considering the fact that he’s trying his best to be there for him.

“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.”

“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the right answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We just have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.”

He feels your words sink into his chest, burning him in a place he hadn’t been before. No. Surely you couldn’t be insinuating what he thought you were. You wouldn’t.

He thinks back to the third grade, his parents' faces engraved in his mind. He learned all too quickly that punching another kid in the face, pulling a girl's pigtails, running out of class would get their attention - faster than asking them to tuck him into bed, eat breakfast with him, or come to a school play. They would drop everything, run to his side to see him at the first sign of trouble. There’s no way you’re insinuating Megumi is doing the same.

It kills him. Even the thought of it being right. Megumi’s mimicking him, when he was younger, acting out to get someone to look at him. The two of you tried your best with him, he was always a little more closed off, but you were doing everything you could.

No. No. Satoru Gojo was not his father. You had to be wrong. You had to be wrong because if you were right, he was no better than his father.

“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.”

He comes to realize that this was his first mistake, one he’ll come to regret in a few hours.

He can feel the words hanging in the air, waiting for your anger filled response. But it doesn’t come. You compare him to his father and then have nothing to say?

“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.”

“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?”

He feels his heart sink in his chest, his cheeks burning with regret already. Why did he say that? You didn’t mean it like that. There’s no way you would ever compare him to his dad, in earnest. He curls his fingers around your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Kiss it better, Satoru.

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.”

You shrug him off, swiping the keys off the counter and running out the door. This is his second mistake - letting you run out that door - and surely the one he’ll regret even more.

He stands there in shock, your absence chilling him. What the hell is he doing? The table is half set, your sweet strawberry smell absent, your glimmering smile gone from the kitchen.

You left. You actually got up and left. It’s his fault. He hit it where he knew where it hurt. He can feel his heart sinking in his chest, the stinging vertebrates through his bones. Why did he say that to you? He loves you. He reaches around for his phone after a few seconds, his fingers shaking as he texts you.

i’m sorry love

you know i didn’t mean it

just come back. you know he’s our kid.

i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents

not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him, just like you wanted. just come back y/n.

Satoru nearly drops his phone into the sink, at the sight of Megumi pushing into his legs. He presses his arms around Satoru’s legs, hiding his face against in the fabric.

“Hey Megs. You okay?”

“Did Y/N leave?”

He leans down, intending to talk Megumi down. You were always better at it, but there’s no harm in trying.

He looks over, really observing the bruise on Megumi’s eye for the first time. His eye is swollen, coloring into a dark purple. There’s a tiny bit of pink in the whites of his eyes and he doesn’t miss Megumi keeping his eyes closed, squinting whenever he makes contact with the light.

He reaches down, pressing the green peas you were pushing into Megumi’s face, back to the spot. He didn’t realize Megumi was hurt this bad.

“Yeah. We just had a little argument. She’ll come back.”

He feels Megumi clench his fist, his hand crumpling the fabric of his slacks.

“Do you think she hates me?”

“Megumi. Y/N loves you. She’s mad at me for being stupid, not at you for fighting.”

He feels another set of tiny hands, this time resting on his arms. Tsumiki’s tear filled face is at his side. He’s messed up.

It’s in this moment, Megumi’s stressed out expression and Tsumiki’s tear stained face, that he realizes how small they really are. He’d been teaching Megumi how to master his cursed technique and he was always impressed with how self-sufficient Tsumiki was, but he never realized how wrong it was until now.

They were kids. They’re small, tiny little kids acting like adults. He leans down, pressing the two of them against his chest. He won’t let them burden it - that’s what you and him were for. You, when you were still here anyways.

He reaches for his phone again, shooting you another text.

kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already

“Satoru.”

“Yes, Miss Miki?”

“Why did she leave?”

He sighs. Because he’s an idiot. Because he can’t control his tongue, because he can’t accept his faults, because he’s in over his head.

“We had an argument. I got upset with her and said something that wasn’t very nice to her.”

“Does she still love us?”

“You’re her entire world. She loves you both, so much. That’s partially why she’s so mad at you Megumi. She doesn’t like to see you hurt and gets upset when you willingly put yourself in situations like this.”

He feels his phone buzzing on the floor, basically collapsing trying to pick it up fast enough. He presses the phone to his ear, without even checking the caller ID.

“Y/N?”

“Am I speaking with Mister Satoru Gojo?”

“Yes, this is him.”

“This is Tokyo Medical Hospital. I’m calling regarding a Miss Y/N L/N. She was in a car accident around thirty minutes ago, near the central line highway. She’s just been transported to our Emergency Department where we are responding to her now. It would be best if you could arrive as soon as possible. Do you know her blood type? We need to attempt a transfusion.”

He feels his voice strain in his neck, fighting to get the word out. Blood type. They need your blood type. You were in a car accident. Blood transfusion.

“O negative. Her blood type is O negative.”

Shoko and Nanami meets him at the front of the hospital and he nearly breaks down right there. He was a mess without you. You had to be okay. You had to stay alive.

“I’ll watch the kids.”

Nanami walks off, his hands holding their tiny ones as he takes them on a walk around the block.

“Am I going to lose her, Shoko? Is she okay?”

“She’s really hurt, the glass shattered on impact. Just go through the doors, Satoru. She was asking for you.”

Glass. He nearly runs through the double doors and is met directly with the sight of you.

The air is gone from his lungs and the room is on fire. No. You’re lying on the gurney, the two nurses balancing shining, silver surgical tools in their hands. They’re digging shards of glass out of your soft, soft skin - from your arms, your chest, and the sides of your face.

He can see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes pinching in pain every time they pull a piece out. The worst part, he can hear you murmuring his name and asking for him every time they do. He walks up aimlessly, interlocking his hand with your free, uninjured side. He can feel his hands shaking in yours, his blood burning in his skin.

“Satoru?”

He reaches forward, patting down your hair.

“I’m here, i’m here.”

“It hurts, Satoru.”

He feels his resolve break at the sound of your voice. He’s crying, full on crying at the sight of you like this. In pain, sitting alone for the past hour. He lifts your uninjured hand, pressing a kiss to the top of your knuckles before resting your fingers against his eyes.

“It’s best if you can distract her while we do this. The silence makes it easier to focus on the pain.”

He nods, turning his face away from the nurse and towards you.

“Hi love.”

“Hi Satoru.”

“Don’t…don’t die on me, okay? I still have a lot of things I want to do with you.”

“Like what?

You hiss in pain, squeezing his hand as they keep going deeper into your skin.

“Eat breakfast with you tomorrow. Make you those strawberry pancakes you love so much. Watch you yell as me as I squish whipped cream into Megumi’s hair.”

He watches you laugh, the pain still pressed on your face as you try to respond.

“Don’t respond. It’s okay, love. Just listen to me, yeah?”

You nod, squeezing your hand in his own.

“I…I love you.” he can feel his voice breaking, trying to stop his tears from returning. He clears his throat, his heart screaming in his chest.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You’re everything to me. You and me, we’re going to be okay. I- I…there’s just so much we have to do still. I didn’t even get to marry you yet. Or put my own kid in you.”

“Gross.”

“Out of all that, that’s what you chose to respond to?”

He sees you smile, your eyes all watery at the sight of him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

You wake up a few hours later, to a very pink eyed Satoru sitting on the chair next to you. He looks horrible.

You make the slightest bit of movement, attempting to reach out for him, and he jumps up from his chair. He presses his hands to your face, shaking his head profusely at you as you put your hands down.

“No, no love. No moving, okay?”

You nod and he gives you a soft smile, before locking his fingers with your own. You can see the tears building in his eyes, his smile being replaced with tears streaming down his eyes.

“Can you put on a little nurses uniform? We’re about to live out my wildest dreams.”

He laughs at your joke, his teary smile returning.

“Shut up. Stop copying my fantasies.”

His hands don’t leave your face, his entire body shaking at the sight of you. He’s scared, scared shitless and you don’t know how to fix it. You’re okay. You’re both going to be okay. You try to sit up, Satoru’s hands helping you most of the way. He has his arm secured around your waist, holding you steady.

“Satoru. I’m okay.”

“You’re not allowed to do that. You can’t just pick up and leave every time you get mad at me. I thought I lost you. I almost did lose you. Do you think I could live if I actually did?”

“I know, Toru. I’m sorry.”

He presses himself against your shoulder, crying into your arms. He’s ran his hands over your arms multiple time’s now, his fingers resting against your beating pulse at your wrist. You can feel the guilt twisting in your chest, for leaving, driving so recklessly, upsetting him in the first place. Any normal person would get up and run right about now.

“You are the only family I have. Please don’t leave me, Satoru.”

You feel your heart clench in your chest at the sight of his defeated resolve and can’t even remember why you were mad, why you drove off in the first place. You squeeze his hand twice, rubbing small circles into the back of his hand.

“You’re the one who left me. I would never leave you. It’s you and me, in life and in death, Y/N. Preferably not the death part from you, if that’s possible please. That’s against the rules.”

“In life and in death? Those are wedding vows, Satoru, we aren’t even married. And we don’t have rules.” you deadpan.

“You didn’t get the memo? We’re married in my head, sweet thing.”

The two of you laugh, the giggles filling up the little medic bay you were sitting in. You feel him lean over, his face still wet and pink from his tears, and press a soft kiss to your forehead before pressing one to your lips.

“Did you eat chocolate from the vending machine?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie. I can taste it on your lips, idiot. Your supposed wife is maybe possibly dying and you’re eating candy?”

“You’re so vulgar. Talking about my lips like that in public. And I was eating for both of us. In your honor. I knew it’s what you would have wanted.”

You roll your eyes at him, giving him a smile, before leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Where are Megumi and Tsumiki?”

“With Nanami, outside. I’ll go grab them now that you’re all bandaged up.”

As he sprints out the door, you readjust in the bed, sitting up. You watch the two of them run in, their little faces swollen from crying. You feel the tears well in your own eyes at the sight of it. You open up your arms (which hurts like a bitch), signaling at the two of them to climb up. They press their bodies against you, their distinct smells pressed against your nose (vanilla for Tsumiki, clean laundry for Megumi).

You can feel them sobbing against you and press kisses to both of their heads as they shake in your arms. You can feel your skin burning at them pressing against your bandages, but you don’t want to let them go.

“Okay, kids. Off. We can hug her as hard as we want when she feels better, okay?”

Satoru Gojo, mind reader. They climb off, the three of them facing you at the side of your bed. They all have their hands pressed against you - Satoru’s resting in your hair, Tsumiki’s in your hand, and Megumi’s at your shoulder. Satoru speaks first.

“I was thinking.”

“You can do that?”

“You wound me, Fushiguro Megumi.”

The three of you snicker at the sound of his whiny voice, the smiles reaching all the way to Tsumiki and Megumi’s cheeks.

“I’ve always had mental rules you should be following in my head, as I am our benevolent, perfect, spectacular leader. But we should establish real ones, for each other. We are a family after all.”

“You’re not our leader.” deadpans Megumi, rolling his eyes at Satoru before eyeing you exasperatedly.

“I like it, Satoru.” you whisper.

“Me first, then. My first rule is for Miss Miki. You have to do anything and everything I say.”

The three of you stare him down, pinching your eyes in annoyance.

“I’m kidding. You guys are such a tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You’re not going to fight anymore. No punching people when you get angry.”

He nods, whispering a promise to you, more than Satoru, that he won’t fight again. You squeeze his fingers that are interlocked with yours, nodding at the promise.

“The next one is for you, missy. No running away, Y/N. Ever. We can argue all night for all I care. You don’t get to leave.”

You nod, promising all of them that you won’t leave them again. You don’t miss the way their tensed shoulders relax at your promise, shocked that they were even worried about you leaving again in the first place. You would never leave them again. Tsumikis’ quiet voice fills the room next.

“Third rule, no fighting if we can avoid it. We’re all on the same team here so we can just try to work it out.”

You reach forward, pressing your hand into Tsumiki’s hair, you and Satoru promising her you won’t fight, at least if you can’t help it, again. The three of you nod, smiling at each other at your new rules.

“I have one.”

You reach over, running your hands through Megumi’s hair as you smile at him, encouraging to speak up.

“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.”

Mom. Mom. Fushiguro Megumi, in the six months he has been staying with you, has never called you Mom. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, wanting to crush him in a hug for a better part of the next hour or the rest of his life. You’re his Mom.

Before you can reach forward to do so, Satoru’s whiny voice stops you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s not even fair.”

“Toru, shut up.”

“Megs. If I break my neck, will you call me dad?”

You roll your eyes. Way to ruin a moment.

“How about I break it right now and we test the theory?”

Megumi and Tsumiki break out into giggles and you and Satoru can’t help but join them at the sound of their laughter. The three of them press themselves against you, wrapping your arms around as you all laugh.

“Hey, one more rule, okay?”

You all nod, turning to face Satoru.

“Everyone calls me daddy from now on.”

“Can you actually break his neck now? Please? I can help.”

836 notes · View notes

scaranation · 2 years ago

Note

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

2K notes · View notes

maybe-moonchild · 2 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 6

summary: in which it is the end. oh, what a ride this has been. WC: 6.0k

°｡⋆˚🕷˚⋆｡⋆｡

Later doesn’t come until after you’ve been discharged from the hospital the next evening.

Since your ‘mugging’ resulted in loss of consciousness, you had to spend the night and morning under observation before discharge papers made their way into your hands. Well, more like into Peter’s hands. After he watched you struggle to hold the clipboard and pen to sign your name, he took over without a word.

You had to change back into your dress which was less than pleasant. Red tinged the back of the collar from the blow to your head and dirt streaked the front but you don’t really care, not when you’re too busy being wheeled down the hall, out the door, and under the dreary skies to wait for a cab.

Peter is there every step of the way.

He’s always there, hovering, whether it be sitting beside your bed, helping you into the cab, or opening all of the doors to your apartment, he’s there. His presence isn’t overwhelming considering neither of you are feeling particularly chatty. While you half consciously watch TV, he’s napping with his head in his arms beside you in that shitty hospital chair. When you start to get restless and struggle to find a comfortable position propped against the crappy pillows, he wordlessly adjusts them for you.

The ride back to your apartment is filled with a similar quiet, neither of you knowing what the two of you are. Before today, you hadn’t even been friends. Just two people maneuvering around an awkwardness, one as tangible as the furniture in your entryway as he guides you inside.

Katies missing presence is apparent the moment you step in the door. Darkness holds the room captive, the only light coming from the windows, even that all gloomy from the weather. A part of you is relieved you might blurt out Peter’s secret to the first person you see, the knowledge settling in your stomach like you swallowed a firecracker.

Plus, she texted that she’d be home late. Something about having dinner plans and needing you to check her in for a lobotomy in the morning... whatever that meant…

“All I’m saying is that a 24 hour sushi spot… game changer,” you murmur, earning a sound of amusement from Peter as he shuts the door. Your keys find themselves in their home in the catchall on the table, clattering against the glass a familiar sound of home and you finally feel like you can relax.

“You’re saying you eat enough sushi at two in the morning to justify that?”

Your limbs still feel heavy that you don’t protest as he works your coat off your good arm, the other side hangs off your shoulder.

You just shrug, returning another timid smile as he hangs up your jacket. “I’m just saying that I crave enough sushi at that hour that I could keep them in business.”

“Okay. No more sushi at three in the morning,” he snorts. Something about the sound almost feeling like a laugh makes you feel a little lighter.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asks. The way you scrunch up your nose is enough of an answer. After the events of last night, nothing sounds particularly appetizing. You’d eaten at the hospital since you were under watchful eyes, but you were more focused on the prospect of crawling into your own bed.

You struggle to unlace your shoes with one hand, leaning back against the wall for support. It’s harder than you thought, the laces of your high tops being a struggle only reminds you that, for the next 6-8 weeks, everything is about to be a struggle.

Without a word, he’s crouching in front of you so he can take over. You let him, head falling back and watching him, pretending you’re not making note of his mouth, how it pinches to the side when he concentrates. His freckles had become less prominent over time, once dusting his cheeks which now were likely in a constant state of bruised. His fingers are gentle as they work out the knot before pulling off your shoe, dropping it to the floor. .

You tell yourself it's the drugs; that’s why you suddenly wish you had a microscope, magnifying every detail of his face so you could scrutinize each detail about him. That the remnants of drugs from your time in the hospital- who were you kidding? A part of your discharge requirements was that they were wearing off and your pain was managed by over the counter medications.

Fine, then maybe it's simply because you are still trying to comprehend that Peter is Spider-Man. That you’ll eventually see something that makes it all click into place, making that somehow seem less like a dream. If he said it was all a dream, you might have believed him.

Your shoes land with a thud beside the door, his hands finding your hips to steady you and himself as he stands. The contact is brief and you feel disappointed in how hard it is not to reach for him. It’s almost embarrassing, how strong of an impulse it is that you barely manage to keep your hands to yourself.

So you focus on the things you can completely control.

Change clothes, brush teeth- hell, maybe your hair too- and then right to bed. A shower can wait for morning and you will happily rewash all of your sheets in the afternoon if it means you can crawl under the sheets.

“I’m okay, you know.” His brows furrow at the unprompted statement, like he can’t believe you would try and convince him of that. Peeking up at him from your lashes, the corner of your mouth turns up in what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I’m just going to head to bed… so… I doubt you got any sleep last night sitting up right in a plastic chair.”

Truthfully, you don’t think he had even tried to rest. You managed to sleep pretty well considering you were partially conscious and partially hopped off the steady stream of whatever drugs were floating around your IV. Each time you stirred throughout the night, you managed to get a glimpse of Peter, his leg bouncing anxiously, either half asleep or fully awake.

“That would be really great if I believed you.” You frown at him, unsure if he’s talking about you actually saying you’re okay or if you’re going to go to bed when he leaves.

His shoulders dip in a shrug. “I don’t want to leave.” His tentative smile drops for a moment. “You’re hurt…I feel responsible for it. You should never have been in the place to…,” he adds before lifting his head to look down at you. The words are bitter in his mouth, coated in something that tastes like guilt and shame.

But you also wonder if he hates the idea of being alone as much as you do.

Except, when you actually think about it, if anyone else were here, you wouldn’t want them hanging around. You realize that it’s less about being alone and more about the crave of his company.

Specifically, the crave of his presence.

“You can borrow something of Flash’s,” you say over your shoulder. Peter lifts his head, taking a moment to raise his eyebrows before quickly catching up as you lead him down the hall. Drugs make your steps a little fumbled, Peter's hand hovering behind your lower back like a shadow.

His mouth twitches into a little frown, “Flash?”

Katie and Flash, the two people had somehow wedged themselves into the spot that had once been his- No, no no. That wasn’t true. They’d trickled into his place when Peter had left it vacant. Through four years of high school and another four years of undergrad, they stuck around. Katie’s room was just down the hall and Flash crashed enough on your couch to warrant him having a drawer here.

They stayed with you. They didn’t leave.

And Peter did.

They were always there.

And Peter wasn’t.

Before either of you really think about it, Peter’s moving with a muscle memory he didn’t realize was still ingrained in his limbs. He finds your bedside lamp, flipping it on to bathe the room in the dim light that sends the shadows stretching around your furniture. Then he’s flipping off the overhead light since you’ve always found it to be ugly and harsh.

As you dig through said drawer of Flash’s, searching one handed for a T-shirt and sweats that will fit him, he opts to hover near the wall.

“Here, just let me help,” he adds, his voice as his touch as he reaches for you, steadying you by the crook of your arm and your waist. “You. Sit. I’ll be your hands.”

You’re too tired to argue. Instead, you just nod and let him guide you to sit at the edge of your bed. Your pajamas are sitting on your desk chair, a habit you’d had since you were a kid. Peter collects them and sets them in your lap.

“You can change in the bathroom and I’ll change in here?”

The two of you go your separate ways so you can strip off your damp clothes in an attempt to escape the vague sterile smell lingering on the fabric. By the time he’s returned, dark hair messy and arms easily filling out the borrowed T-Shirt so nicely, you’ve managed to get your shorts on.

That's it.

“I can’t get it off one handed,” you grumble from where you have flopped backward on the mattress, “I can’t actually get the sleeve over my cast with one hand but I can’t use my other hands because it is clearly the problem here.”

That was where you had given up. Your legs dangle off the edge, eyes staring up at the ceiling as you frown. The frustration of trying to do such a simple task with such a great difficulty had been enough to almost bring you to tears.

Give yourself a break, you’d had a pretty rough day.

The corners of Peter’s lips twitch as he slowly shuts your bedroom door. Even though your eyes are still staring flatly at the ceiling, he does his best to hide any sign of amusement on the chance that will send you over the edge and into tears.

“Come here,” Peter says, his voice soft and gentle as he uses one knee to kneel beside you. He pulls you up so you’re sitting upright and you let him, even if you can’t help but sigh dramatically. This was going to be a long six to eight weeks until the hairline fracture in your arm healed entirely.

You watch him from under your lashes as he bends down. His fingers are delicate and deliberate as he starts to work on shimmying your sleeve around the cast. Your eyes can’t help themselves from flicking at his mouth; his bottom lip rolling under his teeth in concentration, trying to avoid his knuckles accidentally brushing along the skin of your stomach or back

“There,” he says, gently brushing your hair back behind your ear. “There...all set.”

You would mumble more than just a thanks if your brain didn’t feel like it was short circuiting. The sleeves dangle at your sides, arms free from your dress while it is still on in some capacity and you’re not sitting entirely exposed either.

“You can uh… just… turn around.” There's a long pause and your skin feels so hot you want to die.

“Instead of leaving the room- if you’re comfortable with that…”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, definitely.” Peter doesn’t hesitate as the words practically spill from his mouth before he is spinning around. “Yeah, I can just- I can’t see anything but, here I can cover my eyes.”

“Pete, you don’t need to cover your eyes-”

“Too late. Already covered.”

You shake your head fondly, feeling like the entire room has taken a breath.

It might as well have been a lungful of carbon monoxide when you quickly realize that you’ll be changing just a few feet away.

You’re an adult; grow up.

Clearing your throat, you move gently when you pull off the dress, feeling exposed even if he clearly isn’t looking and he’s humming to pass the time. Peter is humming, facing the opposite direction and rocking back and forth on his feet. At first you think he’s only doing it because he’s trying to make it as apparent as he possibly can that he is not looking. Then you start to wonder if it’s because he’s uncomfortable at the prospect of you changing behind him, just a few feet away.

Now you feel uncomfortable at the idea that you have now made him uncomfortable. But why would he be uncomfortable over that after last week when you’d slept over? When his mouth was hot and feverish on your neck, distracted in the quest of tasting every inch of skin- you yank the NYU sweatshirt over your head to shut your mind up.

“You need anything?” he asks after a moment has passed.

You shake your head before realizing that he can’t see you. “No, but thank you. I’m good, by the way. You can… uh… look now.”

The first thing he does is take your dirty clothes and toss them into your hamper with ease; just so you don’t have to get up. Then, he’s lowering himself behind you and making quick work at freeing your hair from the collar of your sweatshirt as you try to yourself.

You inhale sharply when he brushes against the back of your neck.

Fidgeting with the plaster of your cast is a good way to hide part of your face and avoid his eye. Peter’s head is tilted to try and see you anyway before he seems to hesitate, reaching out before pulling his hand back. He must decide to go for it then, inhaling quietly and letting his fingers dance with your own.

“You’ll have to sign it,” you hum, knocking his knee with your knee to lighten the mood. “Make it look less ugly right?”

It works, a little smile appearing on his mouth before he tries to press his lips together to stifle it. This time when you look up, Peter’s not looking at you. While it looks as though he’s studying your intertwined hands, you know him enough to know he’s staring at the cast and letting his mind runamuck with guilt.

“It was like when we were ten. When you tried to teach me how to skateboard.” You look down too, but more so that you can remember the memory.

“God, that was a nightmare,” Peter chuckles quietly, shaking his head. “You’re first and last time on a skateboard.”

“Nuh uh, I got on it after that.”

He snorts quietly, lost in thought, “Yeah, only when I held both of your hands.”

The two of you settle into a quiet that makes the splatter of rain against the glass echo. Gray clouds hide the sun, making it feel later than it truly is. Everything seems quieted by a thick blanket of solitude.

As kids, the two of you had a knack for trouble and injuries. Usually it was Peter that needed some degree of medical attention with scraped knees from the pavement or a sprained wrist when he didn’t notice a particularly troublesome crack in the sidewalk. Your injuries were usually in conjunction with his when he tripped you on his way down or a spout of shenanigans sent both of you falling down a few steps.

Teaching you how to skateboard had been difficult that Saturday afternoon when you were both nine. Red and orange leaves covered the driveway, half raked into piles the two of you had made to jump into before he found a slug and you decided you’d had enough.

So when you agreed to let him teach you to skateboard, gripping each other's arms as he slowly pulled you forward, he’d been ecstatic. He was even more ecstatic when you felt confident enough to let go and roll a slow few feet to a stop. Until you stepped back, lost your balance and the skateboard flew right out from under you.

Peter really did try to catch you when you fell. His fingertips brushing the sleeve of your sweater and instead, you went down hard, a hairline fracture in your wrist that was donned in a red cast for most of November. The guilt was so consuming that he climbed in your window every night for a week because he couldn’t seem to rest.

It had been nothing like tonight. Tonight, neither of you had been reckless and stupid children. A Mickey Mouse band aid or a popsicle didn’t dry watery eyes until the pain was dissipated by the distraction of cartoons.

Nothing could make this better. Peter had been so worried for you. So, so worried that he’d nearly broken his own phone. When he’d thought of Fisk deciding to do something drastic to make a point, he didn’t care about finding his backpack he’d stuck to a dumpster to change. He didn’t care about showing up in his suit, his secret identity not mattering if you were…

His fingertips press against the pads of your own before tracing down each digit and brushing your knuckles. It’s strangely nice; calming you even deeper towards the bone deep exhaustion that has settled in all of your muscles.

“It’s because you’re Spiderman right?” you breathe out, more like a statement than a question. “That's why you stole those files. That’s why you wouldn’t tell me how you got them.”

There’s a pause before he manages to nod slowly.

“Yeah,” Peter says in a low voice. “That’s why. It was… a complicated thing, you know.”

Another pause, but this time, you nod slowly. What are you supposed to say to that?

Everything seems more complicated than possible. You still can’t quite grasp the fact that he’s Spider-Man, no matter how hard you try to envision him crawling in his window, yanking off the mask to reveal his staticy looking hair or flushed face, you just can’t see it.

The entirety of Midtown High had noticed when he stopped getting his ass kicked without throwing a punch back, how he filled out and seemed a little bit brighter. You’d noticed more than anyone, making sure it seemed like you noticed less than everyone else.

Katie had been the first one to make an offhand comment about it while you two were stretching for cheer practice senior year. Both of you had been co-captains, roles you’d been destined to fill since freshman year that you worked your asses off to obtain. She said it as she was tying her dark hair into a pony, voice hushed and teasing.

‘Know how Parker always bolts out of class randomly? Like all the time? Ever wonder if he’s the friendly neighborhood hero? Hey, you guys used to be close, you think that Parker has a body like that- ow!’

You’d promptly shut her up with a playful smack on the arm.

The idea that Katie had been the one to put it together first, sporadically mentioning that she still believed that dorky Peter Parker could be the one swinging around Manhattan, despite you and Flash writing it off. At least you didn’t have to go through the tremendous I-told-you-so that she would have since you could never tell her.

He shifts and starts again,“I’m sorry you had to…” Play hostage by a crime boss, spend the past day in the hospital and now two months in a cast.

He can feel his throat burning when he admits that, feel the burn of shame in his chest as he looks at you. Who he was now was based around a secret. One that he didn’t want you to ever know to keep you out of danger.

Turns out, secret or not, you had been in danger anyway.

You know that there is a jumbled mess of an apology tangled on his tongue, his mouth parting again and again like he can’t quite find where to start. It’s why his silence doesn’t make you angry that he’s not more vocally apologetic. You know he’s practically beating the life out of himself inside of his own head.

Just because he was apologetic didn’t mean that you were thrilled at him either.

“Do you know how scared I was?” You think you’ve asked him that before- no, you know that you have asked him that before. The question either an irritated grumble as you put a bandaid on his elbow or a yell, like when he wiped out on the MET steps because he was spontaneously attempting to grind along the railing without a helmet on.

“I know,” Peter mutters softly, nearly wincing at the thought. The nervous fidgeting of his fingers still, wrapping around yours and squeezing to give you some sort of reassurance. “I know. I know how scared you must have been.”

He turns to face you more.

“But I promise you - I’m going to do everything in my power to never let anything like this ever happen again to you. I mean it, okay? I am never going to let Fisk anywhere near you.”

Your frown deepens which is not the reaction he had anticipated.

“No. Not for me,” you clarify. “For you, Pete. When Fisk told me to call you… I just.” The thought of it makes you wince. “I thought he was going to kill you. It’s why I hung up the phone. I just couldn’t…”

Couldn’t be the reason something happened to him.

You'd hung up the phone because it was the only way you thought would protect him. It would almost be funny; the prospect of you protecting him now when he clearly did not need it

Peter says your name but you do nothing. He says it again, sitting up straighter and speaking with a little more desperation, “Look at me.” He takes your cheek in his palm and moves your head so you’re staring directly into his eyes. He wants to make sure you can see the intensity of what he has to say.

You let him, chewing on your cheek.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I am not weak. I can take care of myself.” Peter’s voice is steady, confident. Confident in himself, at least, less so spilling his heart out to you again like he had the night of graduation. “Come on,” he smiles somberly, thumb tapping your cheek in the hopes that you would understand that he wasn’t the same uncoordinated kid that used to get his face punched in.

Okay, so maybe he got his face punched in or worse on the daily, but that was different.

You tilt your head to the side, both to raise an eyebrow at him and press your cheek further into his palm. His eyebrow raises in challenge since it's clear you don’t quite believe him.

“I’ve been worried about you since I watched you fall off your skateboard the day I moved in across the street,” you breath out with a watery smile. “I’ve never stopped.”

Peter’s entire chest aches when you reach up to touch his face, knuckle grazing his bottom lip. Not even he could deny the way his body lights up whenever your hands are on him.

He’s still in love - deeply and thoroughly and undeniably.

Peter knows he’s in for it if he lets this go on much longer. He doesn’t know if he could resist the urge to kiss you all over again.

“Well, stop worrying about me,” Peter says before leaning down towards you, your faces only inches away from one another to emphasize his point. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

Some days, you thought that not having him in your life the past eight years could’ve killed you. You didn’t think you’d survive it again. But god… you’d let him kiss you even if he left you again.

The words and your soft, gentle expression makes Peter want to kiss the breath out of you.

“I promise.”

You believe him. Relief floods your body and makes your head hang so it’s resting against his. Peter leans forward too, both of your eyes falling closed and sinking into the touch.

Deep in thought, Peter considers his options while you focus on the feel. He’s always been a bit impulsive and it’s clear that there’s something he’s dying to say. Peter taps his forehead against yours a few times while he debates speaking.

“I have something to say.”

When you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you. Something about it makes the both of you break into shy smiles, foreheads pressed together and fingers all tangled.

“Okay.” Your mouth barely moves but he’s so close that the faint sound easily carries. Your previous need for sleep is gone and you can’t imagine wanting to move.

“I've always loved you,” Peter says without hesitation. It's a simple truth; one he's never been confused by.

Love, in him, has always been inevitable.

It’s easier to put out there since he’d come to terms with it so long ago, it felt as much of a part of him as sticking to the ceiling was.

You don’t quite expect it and lean back only enough to see his face, blinking in surprise. It’s the abruptness of it that catches you off guard. A part of you isn’t entirely shocked at the admission- you might’ve even known deep down after he kissed you four years ago.

He goes still too but doesn’t let go of your hands. They tighten faintly like you might slip away now that he’s said it out loud.

"I don’t remember exactly when. I think I first thought about it when we were twelve and the wood of your trellis snapped when I was sneaking back out and you-”

“Pulled splinters out of your arm for an hour so May wouldn’t know,” you finish for him, swallowing down the urge to cry. “Yeah. I remember.”

Peter nods, slow at first then quickly shaking his head with a determined look.

“No- well yes, but not only that.” The bed dips under his weight as he shifts closer to look at you better. “It was so dark outside and it knocked the wind out of me. I thought I was dead. I literally thought I had fallen to my death. One second, I totally thought I’d died until you practically jumped out of the window after me. You didn’t even… you didn’t even hesitate.”

The memory makes your frown deepened since you had never been particularly fond of it. It still made you recoil at the thought, even all of these years later. Not for yourself, but for him.

When you don’t say anything again, he scoots even closer, knees pressing further into your own but you don’t dare move away. His hand cups your face, his thumb feeling for every inch of skin it can reach.

“And then- yeah, fine. Then you did pull splinters out of my arm for two hours but that wasn’t when I knew. It was when you nearly jumped out your window after me.”

Something about that makes your smile watery, which in turn, makes him choke out a laugh. If you speak, well you’re not entirely sure what words or sounds would come out of your mouth.

“But I think it was really the summer before freshman year when I realized it. When that kid two years older than us shoved me on the subway and broke my science fair project. Remember?” He continues hopefully. You can easily nod that you do remember. Peter slips his fingers from your hold to card through your hair, forcing you to fidget with the seam of his sweats from where your hands rest in his lap.

“And right before the doors closed, you yanked off his hat and yanked me off the train- god, when the doors closed and he realized what you did- that was when I knew. I knew it. You looked like you felt bad about it but you did it anyway and you did it for me and right then I knew that I was in love with you.”

What happened next suddenly clicks.

“And then high school started,” you sigh disappointedly. Peter almost wonders if he said the wrong thing when you look away to stare out the window.

High school started and you joined cheerleading and you had less time and he felt left behind. More and more and more seemed to wedge itself between you two. That resentment he carried, how his usual go-with-the-flow attitude he normally had with everything else seemed to sour when you needed to reschedule. How he’d get all quiet when a guy approached you at your locker. He’d even been on better terms with Flash at the end of high school and he’d seemed to warm up to him more than he had to you.

Each second of silence piles up on his chest to suffocate him. His fingers twitch like he’s going to pull away but you place your own hand on his, turning your face back into his palm. His eyes study the little furrow in your brows, knitted and giving away to the depth of your thoughts.

It's your turn to beat yourself senseless inside your own mind.

“Thought you hated me.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s shaking his head, so vehemently that your head moves with him, like it will prove his point.

“Never,” he assures. “Never once. Not a single second.”

You’re so flooded by emotions that you have to just sit there to keep yourself from crying. That admittance is harder than believing he did. Hatred was a much easier emotion to stomach than heartbreak. It's just as hard to stomach his presence, how easily he has slipped back into your life, making you aware that nothing you’d ever done had actually filled that hole.

But he’s here now; your hatred for Wilson Fisk maybe only goes so deep.

“Mine was this past Thanksgiving when you were in Gwen’s car in front of our mailboxes and I couldn’t convince myself to walk outside to return a package.”

Peter feels all the air being knocked out of him when you blurt that out, but his only reaction is his eyebrows rising closer to his hairline.

If you couldn’t face him before, it’s worse now so you rush to fill the silence.

“You guys were just sitting there talking, laughing about whatever it was you guys talked about and I didn’t want to walk out there. So I tried waiting for you to go back inside because if I didn’t mail those ugly pants that day, I wouldn’t get a refund. I was already running late to get to Katie’s but I just couldn’t get out the door. Then I realized that if I waited, I’d have to know what you guys were doing and I didn’t want to know that.”

His brows pinch together as he tries to think back to the memory. He remembers being in Gwen’s car, rain blurring the outside world as they caught up while she was in town for the holiday.

“I just…” you start again, a little slower and less rushed, “I didn’t want to know that she went inside or that you two left together or… I just didn’t want to know. So I went to Katies and couldn’t figure out why it bothered me so much.”

You’re not sure that it even makes sense, making you groan silently in frustration. At least Peter seems to be somewhat following but you’re more thankful for his patience in the quiet of your bedroom. You aren’t sure what else to say, so you come right out with it.

“But I didn’t know until that it was… probably love… last week when I woke up in your bed. It was why I ran. Running seemed easier.”

He’s quiet for only a few seconds, “Was it easier?”

You think about that question for a long moment when you realize you don’t exactly know the answer. Was running easier? Sure. Maybe.

Trouble seemed to follow Peter like a shadow, falling into his hands like it was an old friend. But you were an old friend. So maybe you, Peter, and trouble went hand in hand.

You shrug, “Probably not.” The answer seems to disappoint you more than it disappoints him. His shoulders don't sag as he continues to hold and touch your face, head cocked to the side to watch you intently.

“That answer sucked,” Peter snorts.

Whipping your head to look at him, your mouth drops open so you can scowl, his dumbass ruining the moment.

“You suck.”

Peter throws his head back and groans with the same dramatics that he harbored as a kid.

“Oh my god, shut up.” Peter can’t help it - he leans down, his hands slipping into your hair and his mouth claiming your lips as if he would die if he didn’t act on that impulse.

This is the fifth time you’ve kissed Peter Parker.

It’s the first time you know it won't be the last.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feel of his lips but it takes you to catch up to the moment. It’s slow and deep; the way your mouth slides over his in happy reciprocation of the kiss.

Finding a place to put your casted hand is tricky until you manage to rest it against his chest, fingers twisting into the collar of his shirt as an invitation for him to lean further into you. Nothing about the way he holds you, cupping your face and settling on your side, feels fleeting.

You kiss him until you’re nearly dizzy, knowing you could keep going until you were sick. What a nice thought, being able to kiss him so much that it somehow lost its novelty and became ubiquitous.

More time passes but you can’t seem to keep track of it, the only tell being the slowing velocity of your mouths. Peter reluctantly pulls away first when he manages to remember that you need rest from how much you're leaning on him.

“You’re in my head…” Peter mutters to you after taking a second to catch his breath. “You have been ever since we were kids.”

Your quiet laugh hums against his mouth as you drop your forehead against his, telling yourself it’s not because you’re too tired to hold your head up.

“And now I’m in your hands,” you hum, finding peace in the giddy exhaustion making you buzz and droop.

This time you both laugh, giggling softly like little kids and then laughing even harder at a crack of lighting that makes you both jump.

“Let me just… let me.”

With his super strength, you practically weigh nothing in his arms as he picks you up, kneeling on the bed to pull back your covers. He helps you crawl in, always there, always touching you; a hand on your back, gently shifting you by the waist.

You practically melt into the pillows, body aching and sore as it welcomes the comfort. There are so many things that still need to be sorted out and talked about before anything can become permanent.

But all of that seems like something for later.

“Sleep; you need it,” he says softly from where he’s sitting beside you, brushing a few strands of hair off your face and behind your ear.

“Stay; I need that too.” Peter twists his mouth up in that little way he always does when he’s trying really, really hard not to smile as he climbs in next to you.

#peter parker tasm #marvel #peter parker tasm x reader #the amazing spider man #peter parker x reader #spiderman #peter parker #tasm #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x you

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somanyratsinthewalls · 10 months ago

Text

The Crew's Whore Part 6 (+18)

The Crew’s Whore (Part 6) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Nami x Robin x Female!Reader

WC: 2200

TW: gossip, alcohol consumption, making out, lesbian sex, wlw, threesome, fingering, face sitting, ass play, squirtin! three girls, mild voyeurism, oral sex, Sanji having an aneurysm.

— —

It was growing late in the evening aboard the ship. The table in the center of your bedroom was littered with wine bottles and empty chip bags. Robin was laying on her back on the loveseat in your room while you and Nami were laid on your bed. You were on your stomach, propped up on your elbows facing Robin on your couch while Nami had settled against the pillows at your headboard. The three of you were all reading through the huge stacks of trashy magazines you had purchased at the last island.

This was a guilty pleasure of yours. The life of a pirate isn’t exactly one that allowed many feminine wiles. Because of that, the three of you loved to splurge on girly gossip rags whenever you arrived at civilization.

“‘Hot or Not? Marines’ I’m voting not.” Robin skims through the pages of the magazine and comments at the articles. “Oooh here’s one. ‘Who is Your Warlord Boyfriend? Take This Fun Quiz to Find Out.’ I hope I get Mihawk. He’s probably the least offensive of the bunch.”

“Wait check how old it is, is Jinbe still in there?” Nami closes her magazine. Robin flips through the pages and settles on one.

“Damn, this is only from a few months ago. Could you imagine if he was???” Robin chuckled.

“We could never let him live it down.” You laughed as you flipped through your own magazine. “I’m sure he was quite the stud back in the day.”

“I mean… if you’re into that!” Nami couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. The three of you laughed together, there were at least 2 empty bottles hanging around your room from just this evening. You grab a handful of potato chips and shove them into your mouth. You take a gulp of wine to wash them down.

“If Sanji knew we were having convenience store cinnamon buns and spicy chips for dinner, he would have a fucking heart attack.” Nami remarked with a smirk.

“Doesn’t that make it taste better?” Robin smiles as she takes a drink.

You both hum in agreement and raise your glasses to the middle of the room casually.

“How exactly did you assure that the ever present cook would leave us alone tonight?” Robin looks up from her magazine quiz to meet your gaze.

“I jerked him off before we left for town. 10 minutes in exchange for peace all night? An easy deal to make.” You smirked.

“Not in the galley though, right? ‘Cuz we like? Eat there?” Nami cocked her head at you, annoyed.

“No of course not!” You shoot back and return to your magazine. “Not today at least.”

Suddenly a pillow was launched at your head and you felt Nami next to you kick your shins.

“Gross!” She half scolded half laughed at you.

“Hey don’t look at me! Blame your cook for his appetite!” You toss the pillow back jokingly at Nami.

“Honestly he’s been much more enjoyable to be around now that he finally has an outlet for his proclivities. I have to extend my gratitude!” Robin remarks.

“No thanks needed, it’s what I enjoy doing. If it makes being around a ship full of sweaty men more tolerable, then I’m only reaping the extra benefits.” You smile and kick up your feet behind you.

“OK I know I said I’d never ask about it, but like… there’s no way they can all make you cum, right? Like, most of them are certifiably stupid.” Nami asks, feeling curious after a few drinks.

“Hah!” You laugh. “Not really at first with some, no. But… men are surprisingly trainable. Even the stubborn ones are very easy to bend to exactly how you like it.”

“Ew sorry I asked.” Nami rolls her eyes and returns to her magazine.

You chuckle and go back to reading the article ‘Latest Beauty Craze: Moisturizer Made From Sea King Semen. Would You Try It?’ You finish your wine and settle back onto the bed.

“You know Franky’s dick vibrates, right?” You burst out into the silence.

“AAAAH!” “Yes.” Nami and Robin reply differently but at the same time. Robin laughs and Nami contemplates killing both of you before she wrestles you playfully onto your back.

“You are so nasty!” Nami huffs out from above you.

“You have actually no idea how nasty I am.” You grin up at her before taking her by surprise and flipping your positions so that she was on her back with you hovering over her.

“You don’t say? Maybe I’d like to find out why the freak cook likes you so much…” You weren’t expecting her to match your flirtatious energy so you were shocked to say the least. Suddenly the tides were shifted again and Nami flips you back over and straddles your hips.

“I’d love to show you..” You look up at Nami with half lidded eyes, her hands pinning your forearms above your head.

Nami leans down and kisses you, gently at first. You softly moan at the feeling of her soft lips on yours and she uses this opportunity to kiss you harder. Nami moves from your lips to kiss and bite at your neck while she yanks your shorts off your body. You gasp sharply at the cool air hitting your now exposed sex. Without reacting, Nami quickly pulls your sports bra over your head, leaving you completely naked on the bed. She hovers over your nude form with a wicked smile on her face.

“Your turn.” You smirk and tug firmly at Nami’s top. She sits up briefly to remove her crop top and lets her breasts bounce freely in front of you. They were absolutely stunning. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you and you buried your face between them, relishing in how the soft, plush skin feels against your cheeks. You placed a small kiss between her tits before you slide your hand down to cup her clothed sex.

“Let me taste it.” You seductively whisper up at her.

“You’re so cute, I’m starting to see why the boys won’t put you down.” Nami remarks at you before getting off of you to remove her shorts and panties. Snapped out of your frenzied foreplay, you both remember that you aren’t alone in your bedroom.

“Care to enjoy her with me, Robin? You’re more than welcome.” Nami asks while fluffing the pillow laying under your head affectionately.

“You girls look so pretty, I think I’ll just watch for right now, if that’s alright?” Robin winks at Nami and settles back on the loveseat. Nami winks back as she moves to straddle your face.

“Hear that, y/n? Robin said we look pretty. Don’t you agree?” Nami teases as she lowers her slick pussy down towards your waiting mouth. You felt your cunt clench as you saw Nami’s pink lips glisten with arousal leaking from around her tight hole.

“Mhm…” You reach your arms to hook around Nami’s thighs so she couldn’t escape your hold. “So fuckin’ pretty…”

You pull Nami down to sit fully on your face and she shrieks as you begin to kiss and suck at her clit lightly. You pay sweet, loving attention to Nami’s sensitive bud as you knead at the soft skin of her hips and tummy with your hands. Nami throws her head back and moans, her long orange hair tickling your forehead. You spend what feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye between Nami’s legs and you had barely noticed the pulsing throb of your own cunt.

“Oh sweet y/n, you’re doing such a good job making her feel good. I think it’s only fair you get a reward too, don’t you?” You hear Robin coo from across the room on the couch. Suddenly you feel two slim fingers stroke up and down your wet slit teasingly. You groan into Nami’s pussy at the sensation.

Once deciding you had received enough torture, Robin’s pointer and middle finger slip easily into your wet walls. She curls them gently to just barely graze your sweet spot and pulls back. She repeats her actions until you were whining and begging underneath Nami.

“You focus on making Nami cum, sweetheart. Once you do that, I’ll let you have yours.

*easy enough…* you thought to yourself.

You slide your tongue backwards from her clit through her now dripping folds. Continuing further, you use your hands to pull Nami’s ass apart and begin licking at her tight ass.

“HOLY SHIT- Y/n! What are you?!” Nami jolts and looks back at you.

You look back up at her and rub small circles around Nami’s asshole.

“If you trust me, I can make you cum so hard.” You ask breathlessly, so close to your own release you could taste it.

“I… yes…”

You smile and continue rubbing the tight hole. You return to suckling and licking Nami’s clit and slowly slip your thumb into Nami’s virgin ass.

“Ah!” Nami shouts.

You pick up your pace with your mouth and you can tell the woman above you is getting close. A few moments later you feel Nami’s body jerk forward and she slams her eyes shut.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna- AH!” You feel Nami’s muscles tighten all over her body, inside and out. Droplets of Nami’s release splatter all over your face and neck and the feeling makes you groan and clench around Robin’s fingers. Nami collapses to the side of you with heavy breaths.

“Wow you did such a good job girls! Now it’s your turn to cum, y/n. Would you like that?” Robin’s soothing voice reaches your ears. Now that Nami was off of your chest, you realize Robin never had gotten up, only using her Devil Fruit powers to play with your pussy from across the room.

“Yes, fuck! Yes I want to cum, please!” You pant out, exhausted from being on edge for so long. You look at Robin with pleading eyes. You see she has hiked up her skirt and discarded her panties, using a hand to gently rub at her cunt. This hand was also soaking wet, so she must have just finished herself. Robin uses the fingers inside of you to hammer into your g-spot repeatedly, and another hand to push down on your stomach.

“Shit, yes! I’m so close!” You cry out and writhe against the comforter.

“Come on, give it to us.” You hear Nami purring up at you from her head now resting on your thigh. She lifts her hand and uses it to rub your clit in tight circles. The combined sights and sensations sent you into a brain melting orgasm and you feel fluids and tension leave your body. You couldn’t form words so you just arched your back and moaned at your ceiling.

You flopped down bonelessly on your bed and caught your breath. “We should probably shower and change before bed, right?” Robin suggests as she stands up.

“And we should probably sleep in my room… unless we want to change the sheets.” Nami looks at you and giggles.

“Yes to both.” You throw a towel on and give one to Nami to wear to the bathroom. The three of you casually leave your room and head down the hallway of the ship to the bathroom. Upon exiting your room, you run into a certain ever present cook coming down from the kitchen for the night carrying a pile of folded clothes.

“Oh, hey Sanji.” You all greet him in passing.

“Y/n I took the liberty of doing your laundry today, shall I put it in your room?” Sanji smiles brightly at you.

“That would be great, thank you Sanji.” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you enter the bathroom with the girls. You chuckle, remembering where your lips had just been. The three of you turn on the showers and strip down.

“You know that skin cream article was actually really interesting, I think I’m gonna buy some.” Nami makes casual conversation as you all enjoy your showers.

Suddenly you hear a man scream followed by the sound of a body hitting the wooden floor of the ship. The three of you look at each other.

“Oh my god. My room! Sanji probably passed out!” You clasp your hand over your mouth.

The three of you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Let’s clean the room and leave him there. That way we can gaslight him into thinking it was a fever dream.” Nami grins.

“You’re a genius.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #op nami #with: nami #strawhats #straw hat pirates #robin x reader #robin #nico robin

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