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seungfl0wer · 2 days ago

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*𝐼𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒*

Pairing: Vampire!Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Idk what to put it as but changbin breaks in but there’s consent for the deed so. Choking, hand pinning, mentions of blood, unprotected sex, Creampie, oral(f), slight manhandling. This got some plot to it to wow- as always sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings!

This was requested from my second prompt list with the prompt 3: “Look at you”. Side note I wanted to have this out earlier but I ended up getting sick :( so sorry for the late posting it!

-🖤

It was late, you were in your bed fast asleep. The window open to let the nice summer breeze in. You could hear faint sounds of crickets chirping which only put you into a deeper sleep. Your slumber was cut short however, a big hand gripping at your throat as another pushed down your other arm.

Your eyes show open staring up at the silhouette of the man above you. He pushed your head to the side giving clear way to your neck. You tried pushing him off of you his strong legs held you in place as he grabbed your other hand. Holding them both above your head now. “Get the hell off of me!” You yelled still struggling underneath him.

“Struggling so much and for what? We both know you can’t break free.” He said with a chuckle. “Just let me have my taste of you sweetheart” he spoke again his voice coming out like honey. In the midst of everything you took notice of his long fangs he had. You knew vampires were real but you had never encountered one. At least that you knew of. “I saw you at the library, from all my years on this planet I’ve never smelled anyone like you” he said almost groaning.

“You’re- you’re a vampire?” You asked sheepishly.

“That I am sweetheart. Now just relax hm? It’ll only hurt for a second. I promise to be gentle.” He said his head now nuzzling at your neck. He took a long whiff of your skin before sinking his teeth into you. You body arched at the sharp pain only to be met with a warm feeling circulating your body. He was telling the truth, it only hurt for a split second.

He lapped at your neck making you let out an embarrassing loud moan. He chuckled against your skin before his hand ran down your body. “Look at that, no panties? You must have been expecting me hmm” he said with another chuckle. Your eyes fluttered open and close at the feeling of his touch, at his words. His fingers ghostly brushed against your folds making him groan loudly. He pulled away from your neck moving himself quickly down your body. “Fuck- look at you- you’re soaked” he said with a wild smirk.

“Shut up” you said moving yourself upwards to get away from him. He quickly grabbed your legs pulling you right back down to him “uh uh no running sweetheart, let me take care of you hm?” He said diving quickly to your core giving you no time to protest. He lapped at your folds like he did to your neck this time though it was messier. His pretty nose rubbed against your clit as he ate you out tongue darting into you. Your head fell back, fuck you’ve never had anyone eat you out like this. Like it was the only way they could live, like they needed it like they needed air. Or in his case I guess- blood.

He pushed his fingers into you pumping slowly at first finding the right speed to drive you crazy. “How does every part of you just taste so- sweet? It’s addicting.” He mumbled against your skin. Your cunt clenched around his fingers you were so close already. He curled his fingers at just the right spot as he started to suck at your clit. “Let go sweetheart, cum for me” he said eyes keeping contact with yours.

He let a small nibble to your clit making your body arch, shaking as you came hard around his fingers. Just like your neck he cleaner you up making sure to not leave any of your sweet nectar behind. “You think you can give me one more? Cum on my cock like that hm? Can you do that for me sweetheart?” He asked in that same sweet honey voice.

“And- and if I say no” you breathed out.

“Then I’ll leave, but we both know you want this just as much as I do. I’ll be gentle I promise.” He said again. You took a moment to think, were you really gonna let this guy have what he wanted? You could see from the moonlight how handsome he truly was. Soft red eyes, the sharp jaw line and oh god that body. He wasn’t the stereotypical scrawny vampire no he was buff. Those big arms would be perfect little pillows.

“Well sweetheart?” He said snapping you back to reality. “What’s your decision?”

“Fine, only on one condition” you said trying to look sternly at him.

“And what may that be?” He asked scooting closer to you.

“I think I deserve- deserve cuddles after this” you said the request making him smile. Fuck- was his smile so sweet looking.

“Of course, you’ve been so good for me I wouldn’t dream of leaving you just yet” he said moving closer to kiss you but you pulled back.

“One more thing” you said.

“That would be two conditions then” he teased. “But go on”

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Oh, how could I forget my manners I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m changbin. Seo Changbin” he said.

Your eyes went wide, the little you did know about vampires you knew that last name. They were a huge coven with many high class vampires. “Wait- seo?” You asked.

“I’ll take all your questions after sweetheart, but for now I’m going to give this sweet little cunt what she’s craving” he said running his fingers up your folds.

He got his body positioned on top of you leaning down to finally kiss you. You could hear as he did his pants hitting the floor somewhere. He moved his cock up and down your folds collecting the slick enough to glide right in. When he pushed inside of you, you were shocked. His cock was fat, the thickness stretching you out so nicely. If it wasn’t for his work earlier it probably would have hurt. When he was nestled nicely inside you he peered down at you. His eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

“You- you can move” you said softly. And with that he did. He started off slow and deep. His cock taking in your warm walls as it moved.

“Fuck- everything about you is just so perfect” he groaned. His movements picked up but not before he hooked your legs. Pushing them to your chest as he made himself go as deep as possible. You could feel his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he pounded into you.

“Feel- good?” He asked breathily.

“S’good- feels so good” you moaned out. Your hands reached up to him, grabbing his strong muscular arms. His eyes looked so soft like he didn’t wanna hurt you. Like you were this precious little thing to him. He took your hand into his interlocking your fingers as he let your legs fall back to the side. He moved his body down towards you kissing you passionately.

He kissed down your jaw line and almost instinctively you moved your head, revealing your neck to him. This made something in his brain short circuit. His pupils dilated becoming a bit redder a low almost growl escaped his lips. Before you knew it, he was pounding into you faster, harder and somehow deeper. His fangs found your neck once again biting at the sensitive skin.

Everything mixed together had you seeing stars, moans and cries spilled from your lips as you felt you high fast approaching. “Cum. Cum for me sweetheart- fucking cum for me” he said in that same almost growl tone. Your body arched with one final thrust you both were cumming hard. Your body shook almost violently, with such a strong orgasm.

He moved himself back to your face kissing you lovingly before pushing some hair away.

He stared at you with so much love in his eyes it made you blush. “I broke one of my number one rules” he said with a light chuckle.

“Which was?” You asked.

“I never kiss anyone during sex, almost makes it feel to loving. But. I couldn’t help it. For you I’d give all my love” he said that honey voice returning. “I’ve watched you for a while, there was just something about you that I kept getting drawn to.” He added.

He kissed your nose softly before cradling you in his arms as if it was something he’s always done. He ran a warm bath before placing you into it. “I’m sorry for being so rough at the end, it’s just you- you bared your neck to me. That’s something that we vampires see as a sign of love and trust” he admitted.

“You’re from the seo coven right?” You asked, the question that you had wanted to from earlier.

“That I am, I’m actually one of the highest heirs. A vampire born from vampires. A pure blood if you will.” He said.

“So what you’re telling me is, a royal wanted me?” You said with a smile.

“Oh sweetheart, anyone would want you. You’re perfect in so many ways” he said stroking your hair. “Now let’s get you cleaned up shall we? I think one of your conditions was cuddling hmm?” He said kissing your forehead.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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fanzou · 18 hours ago

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I Can Love You

♡ A Valentine’s Special

✗ Pairing: Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: You insist that Nico Robin is the right one for him, but he wants to show you why you’re wrong.

✗ Total WC: 6.5K

✗ CW: SMUT! Reader is a little jeeeeelly of Robin and Law’s friendship, reader is also a Straw Hat, LAW HAS A BIG DICK, p in v sex, Law teases too much [let me know if I missed any]

✗ A/N: Enjooooooy!

“You know I was thinking,” you start, and he's ready to rolls his eyes. “Robin and you’d make a great couple.”

Even though he was facing the opposite direction of you, you can tell Law’s face was littered in a scowl.

After spending over 2 weeks with him, he was easier to read. It came with its perks and, well, Law was Law and there wasn’t much else.

“And why’s that?” He feigns interest in what you say, raising his head in your direction while throwing the blood littered gauze pads in the trash can next to the desk. “I think you both would complement each other pretty well. She’s quiet, you’re quiet, she’s pretty wise, you are too.” You pause for a moment, then continue, “She’s also very gorgeous.” You wiggle your eyebrows, with a mischievous look.

“I suggest you take care of those wounds on your body before you worry about who I should or shouldn’t be with.”

Known for your blunt and straightforward manner—he respected it, in truth—pirates weren’t known to talk so formally amongst each other anyways, but this, he would be lying straight out of his teeth had he said he wasn’t taken aback by today’s new invasive question you’d ask him. You’ve said some weird things, never anything about his love life—which was… nonexistent, in your own words.

And yes, you make that very clear to him. A lot.

He looks over to you with your finger to your chin as if deep in thought, like you Straw Hats even had anything to give thought toanyway, and you finally speak, "Yeah... she might be too good for you. Scratch the thought."

He chuckles, “You wound me.”

“But if you had to choose from any woman in your entire life to ever marry, who would you choose?” And he has to remind himself that you are completely and entirely under the influence of painkillers, otherwise he would have mistook you for a 5-year-old with the way the question was structured.

“Definitely not you.”

“Law!” You pout. He makes sure that his back is facing you again so he could sneak in a little smile. “That’s actually a good thing. I’m out of your league.”

He turns around to look at you, hand on his heart, “My heart truly cannot take anymore heartbreak.” He says in the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard from him.

For most, it was weird that you were left behind by your captain, but in this case—and with a whole lot of begging from the Straw hat himself—you were rushed to Law’s medical aid. Mindlessly running into battle to protect your friends from a life or death situation wasn’t so appealing when you had to face the consequences for the next month.

But you insisted that you didn’t regret your decision if it meant that everyone was safe; or in Law’s words, you were just careless and dumb.

Even though Luffy himself had to be pried away from your side by the swordsman and the cook while you were unconscious for the first few days, Law had explained to you that they had to get a move on (In your crews complete and utter reluctance) for the next up and coming battle when you came to. And when you found out, you were a bit upset to be parted away from them, but quickly found comfort in Law's presence while you were bed-ridden, cracking jokes about how you’d call him captain until your time was up on his submarine.

He looks over to your bandaged condition, high off your ass, and he almost wants to laugh. Even in your drugged out state, you talk about your friends in such high regard, and try playing wingman with him.

You disrupt the comfortable silence while he looks over some of the stuff on his desk, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m feeling much better. Y’think I can go back on my own ship yet?” You’re already stretching your arms out. He calls your name with his signature “-ya” attached to it in a scolding manner, “What did I say about moving?” Damn Straw hat.

You immediately deflate and look down, “You’re not letting me do anything. I feel fine.”

“It feels that way until you move a little too much and start to open your wounds again, give it another week and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He’s looking through some pages on his desk. “We can go on another walk tomorrow if you really wanna move that badly.”

“Thank you, Cap!” You beam at him, he feels his heart jump a little bit.

Another week has passed and you’re itching to go back to your found family. It’s been this way for the past three weeks, but as the month goes by, you’d just grow more and more eager.

You made him question why he was even doing this often times.

He was a little offended by your verbalized pleas to get out of here, like he wasn’t helping you. In his own little ways, he tried satiating your boredom by doing things that were almost out of character for someone such as himself. He’d even let you tell him about your fellow crew members to make you a little happier.

You’d talk about Luffy quite often, maybe because he knew him way better than anyone else.

You talked about Robin and Nami as well, about how you felt like they were the sisters you never had growing up, about how close you were to them, about how you each met, he was almost sick of how much you talked about them. But if it meant that you were doing okay then that was all that mattered.

Is that why you said that thing a couple weeks ago? About Nico-ya? There was a sincerity in your voice. Robin was a beautiful woman just as you proclaimed, she was around his age, and all the things you said about her held truth.

Maybe it was true—Nico Robin was the woman perfectly crafted for him. And he couldn’t deny her beauty.

He brushes his hand over his face--maybe out of confusion or frustration, he can't decide. But he hated the conflicting feelings that resided in his mind, they made no sense. He never had an issue with women. He didn't want to.

From the day he met you, his beating heart understood an appeal his mind couldn't, you had an annoying personality. You made dumb decisions. You said things too brutally. You never thought about yourself and it was bound to get you killed one way or another. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been spending extra time with you and getting way too familiar with you, but he’s letting himself enjoy it far too much. And he doesn’t know how he’d feel once you parted your ways. He’s never been this close to a woman before, be it the lack of female subordinates on his ship, or his lack of intimacy with just about everyone, it’s a lot for him.

When he has his arm on your hip to assist you in walking and you have yours on his shoulder, he feels his heart rate picking up a little more.

Sometimes when you get tired you beg him to carry you back to your room, he pretends that he hates it, as he leans over for you to get on his back.

And the first week was hell for him when he had to wash you, because bloodied bath and scars aside, your body was beautiful. Every inch of it. He didn't want to be a pervert. He kept chanting the words; this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship in his head when his mind almost slipped to unholy places. If you weren’t in so much pain at the time you’d probably have teased him for how red he looked.

But right now you seem fine, and you and Law (sometimes Bepo) have been going on walks around the submarine every morning now to get you used to physical activity again, you fall into the routine pretty quickly and you don’t seem as depressed as the first few days you were here.

A day ago the submarine ascended out of the water and met with dry land. He was conflicted in telling you— he didn’t know how you’d react. You’re in a completely different place now, different from where you were almost a month ago, it must've be a little weird to come outside after 3 weeks.

It was something that Chopper was extremely adamant on, only because he knew your tendency to wander and extreme desire to explore anywhere you went. You were quite the adventurous one, which is why the Straw Hat himself was probably so upset over your departure.

He sits next to you in a chair from your bed, mentally preparing himself and thinking on how he’d formulate the way he would go about telling you.

Would you stay by his side? Would you immediately go someplace else, and without him?

You’re sat upright in the bed waiting for what he had to say, “We’ll be getting some stock in this new place and I want you to come with us. Just to see how you do.” Your eyes get wider with every word that comes after the next, and you’re smiling. You hadn’t smiled this hard ever since you got here.

What he doesn’t expect, is you to throw yourself onto him. “Thank you Law! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Your embrace is warm, and easy to get lost in and he refuses to let himself have that pleasure. "Do they have a carnival? Can we go out to eat?"

He rests his hand on your waist in an effort to pull you off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you just got your stitches off.” And he does well to hide the small smile that starts to form.

Law insists that you have to be with him, no questions asked.

If not him, then Bepo—the usual routine. It kinda made you mad, I mean, why not go with the other crew mates? You needed the new faces, but he insisted that he wasn’t as confident in their skills to take care of you versus his. Bepo was far more comfortable to be with given his warm and fuzzy embrace. And you envied the captain for having him be apart of the Heart pirates instead of the Straw hats.

You’re excited to finally go out and enjoy the traditions of this new place, you’re wearing a tight dress that looks almost too good on you.

You made a joke to him earlier and told him you were surprised that he didn’t make you wear one of his jumpsuits the rest of the crew worse, then you’re calling him Captain Law to egg on the joke further. All he does is tsk and roll his eyes, like all the time. But you can tell he’s gotten more comfortable with you, and you appreciated it.

Anyway, the town’s food was delectable, you grab some food to-go and eat it while taking a stroll through the busy streets, the smell of more food, presumably some fresh-baked bread met your nostrils and you sighed out of pure satisfaction.

Your partner, on the other hand, all but scowled.

Which gave you an idea.

“Law, let’s go try some bread. I bet they have it freshly baked the way it smells so good.” You hang off of his arm to try and get him to come with you. And he swears the close proximity shouldn’t make him feel weird. He’s been much closer and he’s seen you in much more vulnerable circumstances, but this was different.

He kinda regrets telling you about the bread thing.

“C’moooonnn, you’re a liar if you say you hate bread.” You’re pulling him by his arm now, insisting on getting him into the bakery to try some sweet bread. “I never said I hated it, I said I didn’t like the taste.” This is practically a push and pull game now, “People are looking at us. We’re keeping a low profile, remember?”

You pull away from him in complete and utter defeat and tuck your hands over your chest.

He doesn’t want to miss your touch, but once again, his heart betrays him. “You’re no fun.”

He doesn’t have to miss the skinship for long, almost instantly you’re body is hanging back off of his bicep, talking about the next subject of your absolute fascination, which now happened to be a huge teddy bear plushy that was on display at a ‘convenience’ store. Not only are you closer to him but he can feel your breasts pushing onto his arm. He shudders.

And he tries remaining calm and reminding himself to not be a pervert, you always did this. You always touched him, he touched you. You were doing this as a means for support to walk better (even though you’ve been walking fine for a while now). That’s it.

You interrupt the awkward silence between you two before he starts to feel the immense guilt come over him and he thanks you in his head. His very perverted head. “I feel so much better now that we’re on land again, I feel like I haven’t had fresh air my whole life.” You breathe in and breathe a heavy breath out. “You’re exaggerating, you were on deck not too long ago.”

Your next movement makes him tense, you lay your head on top of his tattooed shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Law.” And give his captured arm a little squeeze, inevitably making him feel your breasts so much more.

He wants to die.

Collecting himself, he clears his through, “You’re making it seem like this is a date. I’m just here to monitor your progress.” He looks at you then looks ahead.

“Why can’t it be a date?” You ask him, still hanging off of his arm.

If you didn’t feel him tense then, it was especially obvious now. And he was trying to mask how weird he felt when you said that, but every part of him felt really hot, and he prayed that his cheeks weren’t tomato red right now.

“Aww! Look at them, young love, huh?”

“Ooooh, they’re an attractive couple…”

“They’re so cute!”

He calls your name a little coldly, “Get off of my shoulder, you’re sending people the wrong message.” He actually didn’t mind it, but he swears he might die if he feels your breast push up on him one more time. “Sorry…” So you withdraw your body completely from his, (which he totally doesn’t regret at all) and you start your walk with him again, minus your body on his this time.

Letting your eyes wander once again and away from Law, you settle on a trinket store, and the idea of buying Usopp a little gift pops into your head immediately. Just because.

You walk into the store full of weird things galore. You settle on a super shiny thing first and when you pick it up, the salesmen is immediately by your side, “This is a one of a kind (doo-hicky) which can only be found on this here island! (you saw this thing at the convenience store as well) Usual price would be 20,000 berries, but for your pretty little self, I’ll make it 19!”

“Yeah, no.” He immediately deflates.

You continue your walk through the store and not shortly after you land on something that you immediately found more intriguing than the last.

“Law look at this! You would love this!” You turn around,

But there’s just one problem.

Law isn’t with you anymore.

Oh.

And when you wave the salesmen off empty-handed, he seems a little angered but bids his goodbye and fake come again! as well. You look towards the street and it seems like it’s gotten busier.

“Law’s going to kill me!”

You try fishing through the crowd and scanning for a white spotted hat, or fuzzy white fur, but everyone looks plain and simple. Which makes you think about how you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs… anyway.

You search and search until you find that signature hat you’re looking for, excuse yourself in between what felt like hundreds of strangers and you catch up to him. You grab his hand in excitement, “Law!” Only for it to be quickly taken back, it was a stranger, with eyes that you’re sure could burn holes into you. You say your little sorry and resume your search.

After a long period of searching you’re drained, physically and mentally. You’re sure that if he found you he’d probably strap you down to your bed and not let you leave.

Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.

You’re defeated, extremely, entirely. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been outside like this for what felt like forever, maybe it was the fact that the sun was setting now, or even maybe it was ‘cause you needed Law with you the most right now. You find a near bench and just sit.

And maybe that exhaustion finally got the better of you, because you swore you could see his big muscular tattooed figure paired with Bepo's white fur walking towards you as you dose off into a really, really nice sleep.

The sound of one—no, two muffled voices wake you from your slumber, your vision is blurry, and if you were right about him saving you, you could hear what you assume to be Law’s medical instruments clacking together. A sound you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Captain, you don’t think that’s a little harsh?”

“Do you see what she pulled out there?”

Bepo is silent for a bit, then sighs, “If you think it’s best for her.” He leaves the room on his own accord, leaving just you and the very scary man alone.

“I know you’re up.” He calls you with a firmness in his tone.

Much to your unwillingness, you sit up straight, tail between your legs. He looked a bit unkempt, and you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of you or something else. In whatever way, you felt a little guilty.

“Just plain reckless and obnoxious.” He towers over you, “I have a job to complete, and that requires you being taken care of.”

He's pacing around in your room-- the room, of his ship. Not yours. You've never seen him like this. Like he was distressed. He stills and looks at you.

“You’re not coming out the rest of the week. You can wait until Straw Hat comes and picks you up.”

“What am I, a child?" You swing your legs around to meet the floor and pick yourself up.

"With the shit you just pulled, maybe."

With a scoff, "That's low, even for you, Law. It was an honest mistake and you're making it seem like I almost got us killed? You knew what you were getting into when you took me out!" you pinch your nose in a mix of frustration and some previous dizziness. "Sorry I can't be like Robin!"

Huh? Like who?

He immediately looks at you, and sees a little a tiny but of regret in your face. Like you had just got caught with a big secret.

Well maybe, that’s what it was.

“What is your deal with me and your crew mate, huh?”

Your confident demeanor is quick to fade away and if he didn’t know better, he would say that you were almost a bit embarrassed now. He really couldn’t tell what it was. You weren’t angry anymore, that was for certain. You’re not looking at him with those harsh eyes, you’ve been reduced to silence.

It makes him think a bit. He says your name in an attempt to get you to look at him and he succeeds.

“You wouldn’t happen to be…”

“Jealous?”

If there was ever a more dramatic gasp, it certainly couldn’t have topped the one that just came out your mouth. “How dare you! Not one bit!” Suddenly he has this new profound confidence to him, and his frustrations suddenly wiped clean off his mind. He looks at you with his grin all-knowing, and by God you hated when he did that. You wish you could have wiped it off and smacked it off of him.

“So explain to me, what’s the point of mentioning her again?” You don’t realize it, but he’s inching a bit closer while you’re avoiding any and all contact with him, you’re red. Red all over. Cheeks, ears, neck—everywhere. And you don’t know what to do with your hands, you can feel them collect sweat now. You don’t know why. Because his accusation was false.

He’s in front of you now.

“W-What are you doing? Law?” You scan his face because his stare down is relentless and unforgiving, and his hand finds its way up your neck and soon your chin. He’s awfully quiet. It’s unsettling. You put your hands on his chest to hopefully put a halt in the proximity. “Can you please te—”

His mouth is on yours. It’s a little shocking at first but you’re not pulling away.

And you don’t remember closing your eyes and snaking your hands around his neck, and pulling him in, but you do. His own tattooed hands found caressing your body. And the kiss was really, really passionate. He didn’t think it was gonna be this good, but he was wrong.

He was always wrong about you. Wrong about how he didn’t think you were right for him, wrong about your personality, attitude, everything. He really wanted to stay wrong until you would leave and he’d hardly have to see you again. He’s almost pissed he’s letting himself bask in your warmth and intimacy.

But now that he has it, he can’t go without it.

Few words are exchanged, but what he can do is guide you and put you back on your bed with your lips barely still connected trying to reach for each others and you think to yourself, for a man who claims to not have had so much going on in his love life he sure was skilled in whatever this was. He doesn’t want to take them off of yours. He can’t now. Your hands are under his shirt caressing every part of his torso. The feeling of his abs turned you on so much more and you felt your cunt throb a bit. You were aching for his body and he could tell, he takes his lips off yours with a whine from you that follows suit and immediately licks, sucks and kisses your neck, your audible satisfaction letting him know that he’s made you feel great.

“I need you… so bad.” You say in between huffs.

“How can I be so sure you deserve it?” He gets up, and takes his body off of yours, lips glossy. “How do I know that you won’t pass out on me, either?” He disguises his slight worry in a taunting statement, he’d try being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t make any promises.

“I won’t do that, and please Law. It was a mistake, honest. I need you inside. I wanted this so bad. Please!” You tug him by his shirt, urging him to come back down, he doesn’t. He thinks on your words a bit. You wanted this just as much as he did.

“Take your clothes off.”

He laughs at the very quick work you make of taking every single article of clothing, save for your bra and panties, off. There it was, the very image that kept him up for nights, shamefully touching himself to the thought of you on top of him, and him on top of you. Soon he joins, dropping his shirt and jeans and all else except his boxers, to the floor. He returns to your neck, his body on top of yours and you can feel his clothes dick pressing onto your clit ever so slightly, it draws a shaky breath out of you. “Do you know what you do to me?” He slides down your bra to continue his trail of kisses and licks on your nipples. “And you’re worrying about someone else. You’re so pathetic.” You arch impossibly closer into him and start to buck your hips into his crotch.

“Need it sooo bad, put it inside me already, pleaaaaase!” His dick is throbbing in his boxers now. He shakes his head “You’re not prepped.”

“I’m wet enough, please baby. I need you inside of me.” You claw at his chest in an attempt to get what you want.

But he refuses, he can’t. He goes down on you anyways, taking off your panties and the string of wetness that connected from your underwear to your cunt validated your statement. This was straight out of one of his wet dreams; you sprawled out and begging to be filled with his aching cock. He wanted more than anything to make you beg for him like your life depended on it to carry out the fantasy but, he was afraid he was just as desperate as you were right now. He continued and gently presses your legs up, swiping his thumb across your slit to test the waters (literally), your slick gathered onto his thumb and made a great lubricant, but he still wanted to make you feel good.

He licks his thumb clean and settles between your legs and gives your throbbing heat a few lips and sucks on your clit. He can feel you shake underneath him, and he separates your legs by your inner thighs to get a better angle.

The image in front of you made you hot, that’s all you could say about it. It made you hot and shaky and you thought you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you soon, Law hears your pleas, and to temporarily compensate for it, he sticks two fingers into you while he’s practically making out with your clit. You look down with an almost drowsy expression, your moans get so much louder but you don’t even care anymore. He was sexy and he was eating you out. That would be your excuse to anyone who dared to get too close to the door.

His two fingers were pretty big enough to even cause you a bit of trouble alone, and his constant prodding and scissoring made you seethe a bit, but you didn’t care because the pain and the pleasure mixed together made you feel the growing orgasm in your stomach. You shout his name, “I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna cum… mmm~” your whines and moans are breathy.

But he pulls away, and you look to him in shock. He gets up from his position and he’s on his knees in front of you, and he’s threatening the hem of his boxers, you quickly forget about your failed orgasm, knowing the main course was yet to come.

It almost feels like when he pulls down his boxers, time is in slow motion. Maybe because you wanted him extra due to the lack of action you were getting, and your inability to masturbate for the longest time, were you so eager to get him in your pants, nothing prepared you for when he pulled down his underwear.

And now you understood why he wanted to prepare you.

When he pulled them down, his cock shot right up and bounced a little bit before it was like it was staring right at you. You gulp. Because that’s all you could do. And you didn’t even want to look at Law in the eye because you know he was gonna give you some smug and shitty smirk. Like a hypnosis, you get in position and spread your legs further.

“You ready?” He puts one arm next to your head and crouches down a little bit, you can’t even speak. You just hum. You’re expecting him to get it over with, but now he’s just stroking your slit with that absolute beast, “You sure you’re ready?” And now you’re forced to look away from the heavenly scene and into his dumb and beautiful eyes.

“W-What was I saying for like the past 10 minutes? Put it in!” He only chuckles at how you jump at him, demanding him like you have any control. So he slides it in, head only. With your hand on his bicep, digging nails as you’re squeezing him both down there and with your hand that looks for some kind of help in his arm.

He removes his hand that pushes his cock inside and rests in on your chin to bring your eyes up to him, the action was so gentle it could’ve made you forget what was just going down. “Just look at me.” It makes your heart flutter.

And while you do, you feel so much better about the monster that’s sliding into you inch by inch. You furrow your eyebrows at him and chant his name like some sort of ritual. He’s almost all the way in, and the beads of tears in the corner of your eyes make him twitch inside of you with a groan. He looks at you like you hold the answer the all of his problems, like he just wants to be here with you only, and that’s exactly what it was. Like he’d pass away peacefully if it meant he passed away in between your legs.

Once he bottoms out, he stays there a little bit. He gives your lips a quick kiss before he moves into you, elbows on each side of your head. Each thrust is more powerful than the last, and he mentally curses at himself for not removing your bra so that he could see your tits jump freely. You’re on a different planet at this point, nothing has ever felt better. You look into his eyes, then down at what’s connecting you and you swear you could cum right there.

“‘F-Feels… so… good. Hah…” his thrusts find a comfortable pace now, “I feel full and good. Thank yoooouuummmm!” This is what you had been reduced to, thanking him for fucking you.

“Such a fuckin’ slut. Maybe I should keep you all to myself. For good.” His thrusts pick up a little bit now, “Straw Hat’s gonna have to fight me for this.” You whine in response. It took pretty quick for you to start to get cock-drunk off of him. He didn’t take you for the overly sensitive type but here you were, begging him and thanking him for some dick. He would so use that against you later.

He kisses you again, and he’s settled into you a whole lot more. The position changed a little for his body to be closer to yours, and almost in an instant does your skin start slapping against each other. You were a moaning mess, the new position held so much intimacy and so much of him was on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t stop. I’m almost there, I need it. Need it so bad. Let me have it!”

“Beg a little more.”

“Please, Law! Please! I need you to make me cum! Please, make me cum. Please please please…” and they don’t stop. It looks like his fantasies came to life after all.

He lets you have it because he needs it just as much as you do, the last few thrusts come a little more quick-paced and it’s hitting you in the exact spot you needed to let yourself unfold.

With a loud call to his name, you cum. You came so hard you saw stars. And he just kept fucking you through it.“‘Gonna fill you up.” He grunts and groans in an effort to reach his own moment of bliss and it’s quicker to hit him than he can comprehend, he cums inside of you and shivers a little bit in doing so, finding comfort in the crook of your neck in an effort to cover up how vulnerable he felt in that moment. No women could ever compare. He was a mess for it.

As for his fill inside of you, he’d just use his devil-fruit power to remove it, but right now he absolutely relished in the way it so effortlessly leaked out of you. You were his, officially.

Collecting his own self, he pushes himself off of you, “You’re not going cold on me, are you?” He gets up off of the comfortable position once again, peering down at your fucked-out state.

“Would you give me a second? I thought you fucked me into another dimension for like half a minute.” You huff. He gives you your time while you catch your breath, he’s rubbing circles on each side of your hips to help alleviate the strain—well that’s the doctor for you. He’ll fuck you into the mattress and then help your muscles de-stress. You couldn’t deny the gentleness and how kind the gesture was and you soften up a bit.

“Get on your hands and knees when you’re ready.” You’re up hilariously quick. And he’s already half hard from waiting for you. Your figure from the back was something he’d think back on for many nights, but getting to see your face was beyond compare.

You whimper, “I’m ready, c’mon!” You comedically and desperately wiggle your ass in front of him, he wants to laugh but it was really fucking sexy, the way you yearned for him, and he holds your hip with one hand, lining himself up once again. The hard part wasn’t so difficult this time around, and he pushes himself inside of you a little too eagerly, almost giving away his own very need. He starts to thrust into you again, and being inside of you was like heaven on earth. Though it wasn’t even 2 minutes that he was fucking you before, he was sensitive this time around, and he had to go slower to start.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” You hum a moan in a little more than approval. He’s sliding into you, watching how his cock disappears into you.

The best thing about this position is how you wouldn’t be able to see his face, how pussy-whipped he looked. If he went any faster he could cum, so he needed to start slow.

You were far past the sensual and slowness. You needed it fast and hard. “Law, go faster!”

“Don’t call me by my name. What do you call me in this room? On this ship?” Very bold in his proclamation. But he can feel your hesitance.

He smacks your ass, and you jump a bit, clenching around him very tightly. “I said, what do you call me?”

“C-Captain, please… please go faster.”

But he stops. And he swears he might be torturing his own self more, if it meant for how much you begged and whined for it, though, he wasn’t disappointed.

“If you want to go faster so bad, fuck me yourself.”

You almost want to cry from how brutal he sounded, but the vulgarity of his words makes you clench around him again. And so, you start to thrust back into him, fucking him while he watched you.

With the first few thrusts you’re already clutching the sheets below you, and it’s taking more power than you thought it would. You can’t bring yourself to stop, though. The way it felt, it was too good.

“How does it feel?”

“S-So good, Cap.” Your eyes rolled into your skull.

“You gonna make your captain cum?”

“Mhhmm~”

With a breathy voice he says, “Guess this is my reward for taking such good care of you, huh? All paid off. I don’t usually get this special treatment from my usual patients.”

“I’m n-not a usual… patient.” You hardly breathe out.

He grips both sides of your hips to make you stop in your movement and he shuffles a bit, not long after is he asking you, “Are you gonna be good from now on?”. You say yes, a thousand times over. He moves like he did before, only just picking up his thrusts quicker and quicker. The sound of his skin meeting yours makes its return only louder. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Couldn’t possibly be. You’re too special. Made just for me.”

“Yes *thrust* Captain! *thrust*”

His leg is raised to the side to get a better angle into your cunt and he feels a second orgasm quickly approaching. He’s so sweaty, drenched. His hair clings onto his forehead and his hands can barely take grip on your skin anymore. Fuck, he moans. He’s getting dizzy now. This is the best he’s felt in a while.

You, on the other hand, have your face pressed in the sheets with your orgasm on quick approach. You’re sensitive, too sensitive. And you cum with a loud whine, all your liquids spraying onto him like it was comical. He came not so far after you, with his head falling back and a breathy moan.

You both try to catch your breaths before he felt on top of you. He kissed your shoulder as his own little thank you and rolled over on the very much drenched mattress. You lay on top of him while your whole body shook and he quickly wraps his arm around your figure.

You both sit in a comfortable silence go try catching your breaths and try to pace yourselves so you could relax. And surprisingly, Law is the first to speak.

“Never pinned you for the jealous type.”

“Oh would you quit it already? You’re so good at ruining soft moments!” You push him lightly, you roll over on the other side of the mattress and he immediately grabs you back. He was so annoying.

If he asked you to stay with him, would you have done it? No, that was wishful thinking. He’s seen with his own very eyes how much Straw Hat loved you. This is the thing he dread the most about this, he shouldn’t have done it. He brought you into his own sick and dark fantasy of keeping you here just for him and now he regrets it completely. It was wishful thinking on his end, all of it.

“‘This a one time thing?” He asks to try and ground himself.

But you’re quick, “No, better not be!” You get up and sit on the bed, and he doesn’t understand how you’re up. He should be the one to get up. “Unless you declare me your enemy once I leave.” Your fingers are dancing on his chest, tracing the tattoos on his body, “But I’m fine with being with you like this. It can be our little secret anytime we see each other. Especially that captain thing, you freak.”

He laughs, and your words do bring him that relief. He pulls you by your arm for a tender kiss, something you were a bit surprised by.

He was fine with it, he’d take what he can get for now, as long it meant he could be with you.

#law trafalgar #law trafalgar x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x reader #law x you #law x y/n

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kedreeva · 2 days ago

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Well, I've had a bit of a rough week. A deer totaled my (new-to-me I've-only-had-it-a-year) car when it rammed headlong into to side of it on a dark back road, and set off the passenger side side airbags (on the doors, not the dashboard ones). Thankfully I was completely unharmed aside from ringing ears and it did not do a whole ton of damage running into the side of the car (as opposed to the damage that would have been done the other way around, if I had hit it), but unthankfully it hit the airbag sensors and the airbags going off made it unable to be repaired for less than the cost of the car. The deer did not even have the decency to drop dead on the spot so I could eat it, it took off running back into the woods (at least according to the guy behind me that saw it hit me, because personally I thought someone had fuckin' shot my car, because the airbags are apparently explosively powered and smell like gunpowder and smoke).

So, I've been away dealing with that and looking for another car. I was not in love with the Patriot, even though I stuck cool jurassic park stickers on it (rather, I stuck cool jurassic park stickers on it because I was not in love with it), and I was still badly missing my Liberty. So imagine my surprise when I found a new listing for a 2010 jeep liberty with nearly the exact same number of miles on it (70,139) as the patriot I just lost (70,106). It looked practically pristine, came with a clean bill of health from Carfax, and was within a few hours drive to go get. On top of that, it was listed as marked down because it was at non-same dealership that wanted space back, so it was less than the insurance payout. I still called, and I still asked them to do me better than what they had it up for, and the guy was SO busy explaining how much trouble it would be to give it to me for the price I asked with all the taxes and fees and stuff included but that he would valiantly go talk to his manager that I didn't get a chance to say I MEANT just the car price not including those things. So he came back with a price, I asked again for lower again if I could bring cash today (offering the price I wanted to pay total in the first place, had he stopped to listen) and they accepted it.

So, I drove down in my mom's car with her, and took him out for a spin. He drives like a new car. Whisper quiet compared to the lawnmower of car the Patriot was. Tight steering, gas, break pressures, good wheels, great pickup and go, rides high like my old Liberty did, huge backseat/trunk space for caging and hay and stuff. They had detailed the inside so it was pristine and even smelled like new car. Stunning little beast.

When I climbed in to drive home, I found a heads-up penny sitting on each front seat. I think probably the dealership guy put them there in reality, but I choose to believe that it was a peace offering from the universe. Or perhaps the car trying to tell me his new name: Lucky.

I managed not to cry about having a car so much like my good boy Colt back under my hands, but it was a close thing. Anyway, here's to the next 200k miles! Let's see if we can beat Colt's record :)

#personal #stories about Ked's life #good things

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sacrificiallane · 3 days ago

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leaving him alone with your plushies ۶ৎ percy jackson blurb

cw: nothing, really. it‘s just very fluffy ♡ & very short, and a slight little mention of past 'activities', but you'll miss it if you squint so eh. enjoy!

the scream you let out was equally hilarious as it was terrifying. and it had your pretty boyfriend ― of who was the sole reason for such a sound even escaping your vocal cords in the first place ― literally smack into your cabins' door like a bird would against a window.

"you okay? are you hurt? you okay??" Percy came running like your life was on the line.

before you could offer an answer, his hands were already reaching for your arm, your hand ― basically anything ― to make sure you were okay. "talk to me pretty girl, hm? what happened?"

"Perseus Jackson" and yea, he might've just flinched a little at your tone, but his hands did not fall away quite yet, "what did you do to my bed?"

"uh, what did i do to your..." the confusion was evident, until his sea green eyes followed your own, all the way to your sheets and it suddenly ― thankfully! ― all made sense...

when Percy was left by you this morning, the boy was so bored! so, in his typical bored boyfriend fashion, he had taken the time to arrange your beloved stuffed animals to recreate a ... slightly 'gruesome' scene. because after fluffing out your pillows, and folding your blanket, he was only left with turning your plushies from facing the wall...

then, though ― his genius mind was unstoppable! ― he had come face to face with the plush he'd gotten you for your birthday! (a cute octopus plushie in your favorite color, and maybe a bit too big for your small cabin bed... especially when he was sharing it with you). and maybe it was sleepy delusion, but he had made up this whole scenario of how the gifted giant sea creature was basically your child!

Percy admits, he might have gotten a little carried away, staring at its big button eyes, and thinking about how it was probably so jealous of all your other fuzzy friends.

so, he explains, he had used each of it's fluffy tentacles, to wrap them around each of your other plushes, to make it look like he was trying to murder them! not that it was rally scary, or anything. just a little cruel, maybe.

when he tells you about it, and smiles a bit sheepish, you feel equally flattered as you feel horrified! he can only watch with endeared amusement as you quickly detangle all of your emotional support stuffies, push a kiss to their heads ― as though they were scared or hurt ― and put them each back where they belonged.

"i love you Perseus, but gods are you dumb..."

"love you too, pretty girl."

something a little different? i needed some fluff. i miss him. saw this in a tiktok so credit to that, ig? should i write a smutty blurb about what happened before this? like Percy rearranging your guts and turning your plushies to face the wall because he's all like 'nuh uh, you do not wanna see me do this to your mom'. or is that weird? 😔 (i'll probably do it anyway, you can't stop me!)

#percy jackson x reader #𓇼 blurb ⋆.˚#percy jackson blurb #ㅤ��ྀི fluff #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader fluff

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w1ngriddenangel · 1 day ago

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late night | chris sturniolo

in which . . . reader wants nothing more than for chris to just pound her ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

pairing | chris sturniolo x reader

warnings | smut, porn w/o plot, praise kink, breeding kink if ya squint

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

as soon as chris got home from a filming a car video, he knew. he always knows. he can tell by the way you look at him all doe-eyed with your lips pouted.

“hi sweet girl,” he greeted you. “you miss me?” you nodded in response, looking up at him. as soon as you gave him that look, chris knew he was a goner. “you need somethin’?”

“been wanting you all day…” you trailed off, avoiding eye contact. his eyes darkened with lust, and he wasted no time before smashing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. his hands rubbed all over your sides, your legs—anywhere he could get his hands on. he wanted this just as much as you did. he loved when he came home to you needing him like this.

“please.” you begged him. your pleas did nothing other than spur him on, and within seconds both of your clothes were tossed somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.

he leaned in closer, lips brushing against your ear making you shudder. “gonna make you cum so hard tonight,” you could’ve moaned at his words. your brain was cloudy with nothing but him. “can’t wait to be deep inside your sweet pussy.”

he wraps his hand around his throbbing cock and gives himself a few pumps before lining himself up with your pussy. “please, chris,” you begged. “be rough with me.”

his eyes flashed with excitement at your words. who was he to deny you? he smashed his lips against yours once again. his tongue immediately claimed your mouth. “you sure?” when you nodded in response, his lips curled into a smirk. “you asked for it, baby.”

with one harsh thrust, his entire length is inside of you causing you to loudly cry out. a deep growl escaped his lips, the feeling of your spongy walls making him feel like he was in heaven.

“you feel so fucking good.” his thrusts are brutal and punishing. you wanted him to be rough, that’s what you were going to get. his hips kept snapping forward—he was reckless. the headboard was banging against the wall with each thrust.

“oh my g-god, chris!” you practically screamed. your moans made him feel more confident, his hands tightly gripped your hips, there were definitely going to be bruises.

“yeah, baby,” he moaned. “take every fucking inch of me.”

his hand slides down, running your clit roughly in circles. the new sensation made you go crazy, crying out even louder. “gonna ruin you for everyone else. nobody else is ever gonna fuck you like this.”

you couldn’t respond to that due to chris’ brutal thrusts, but both of you knew that it was true. “filling you up so good you can’t even talk huh? nobody else is ever gonna touch you.”

“i only w-want you,” you managed to get out. “filling me up so good.” chris’ eyes almost roll back at your praise, his praise kink coming out.

“you look so good like this,” the wet squelch of his cock plunging in and out of your soaked cunt fills the room, making chris immediately feel the knot form in his stomach. “you love this shit, i know you fuckin’ do.”

we grabs your thigh, moving one of your legs to rest on his shoulder. the new angle hits you in just the right spot, causing you to scream. tears were pricking your eyes, and chris took notice of it. “hittin’ that spot so good, ain’t i? fucking you so good you’re crying… awwwe.”

he was mocking you. you knew it, but you felt too good to even be humiliated. you loved it. “g-gonna-“

“love fucking stretching you out like this.”

your vision blurred and your toes curled, you kept tightening around chris and he knew you were done for. “squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight… you gonna cum around my cock?”

“yes!” you squealed. your loud cries were getting even louder, and you were writhing under him. chris felt you squeeze him one last time before he buried himself to the hilt, spilling his warm cum inside of you. he let out a loud groan as he filled you. “take all of it, baby. every last drop is staying in your pretty pussy.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo smut

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misstycloud · 14 hours ago

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A loser's qualities~

Oral(f.reader receiving), facesitting, mean reader

--------

You stared at yourself in the mirror and recalled all the times people would call you beautiful; they were right, you were absolutely gorgeous. It's not bragging if it is true. Your hair was silky smooth and shiny, your lips were lovely and kissable , your style was to die for.

You really had everything in life.

It was soon time for you to meet up with your friends. You had all decided to grab dinner and then watch the latest hit film currently being shown in theatres. It would be a fantastic evening. You applied your make up skilfully, making sure not a single eyelash was out of place. Nothing would be able to stop your perfection.

As you combed through your hair, a choked sound interrupted your concentration. The gagging sent vibrations through your entire body. Ah, it seemed your toy was running a little low on oxygen. Stifling a sigh, you looked down to see the top of a sweaty forehead, hair was sticking to it like glue.

"mhm....!." your boyfriend gagged. His hands gripped your thighs harder, his nails digging into your flesh.

Really, all that talk about wanting to be a good boyfriend and he couldn't even handle ten minutes? Idiot. Your irritation grew as you lifted yourself just enough for the young man under you not to be choked by your pussy. He took greedy gasps of air and coughed a couple times. His entire face was covered in your slick and his lips were almost swollen of the work they'd been forced to do- which was virtually nothing as you hadn't even cum once. You knew he didn't have much going for him but to be this useless was absurd.

You stared at your boyfriend with disappointment.

He noticed your annoyed look and nearly cried. The last thing he ever wanted was to disappoint you, especially when the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. The two of your were supposed to stay in for the night and be comfortable- you had promised him this since months back- but suddenly you got a call from your friends, asking if you wanted to go out. When you told him of your plans he reminded you of your promise and in retaliation you emphasised on your need for fun and excitement; there was no way you would miss the fun for some boring movie he wanted to watch. He already knew begging would be pointless so he came up with another plan to make you stay. In a desperate attempt to keep you he wanted to show how fun he could be.

Unfortunately for him, you were less than pleased with his performance.

Your boyfriend panicked at the thought of underperforming. This wasn't just a matter of wether you were ditching to hang out with your friends, this was now a matter of wether you would find him valuable as a partner at all. He wasn't much of a looker, he had no friends and stayed in his corner all the time. The only advantage he had was his intellect. Too bad you didn't find too much value in that either.

He believed if he could please you as a man then your attitude toward him would shift, but it appeared he couldn't even do that, despite all the materials and videos he'd consumed in his spare time(he wanted to be prepared).

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He fucked up. "Please, I can do it! I-I just need more practice..." he cried.

You rolled your eyes at his typical cry-baby behaviour. Did this man ever shut up? "I don't think practice is ever gonna help you. You're really hopeless, y'know."

He whimpered, "N-no, I said I can do it. Sit down, sit on my face!" he said as he tried to forcibly pull you down to rest onto his face. When you didn't budge he instead leaned up to place hasty kisses on your thighs. He licked and sucked on your skin, enough to leave marks. Despite him sucking-ass at eating you out, you had to admit, seeing him so pathetically glide his tongue over your thighs and beg for your attention sent heat to your core.

You supposed you always had a bit of a thing for pitiful men.

You smirked down at him. "Really? Are you sure you can handle it? It didn't seem like it before."

"Yes, yes I can! I promise I'll make you feel good if you just let me."

You pouted, faking uncertainty. "I don't know, baby. You didn't make me feel good at all before. I'm not convinced you can do it." You loved the way he shivered and let out a mix between a whimper and a moan at your nickname. Oh he just loved being your baby. "You haven't made me cum at all. Don't you want me to cum?"

"Of course I do, (Y/n)! I want nothing more than to pleasure you enough to..-to do that!" He blushed furiously under you.

Aw, he was still a little shy in the language.

"I'll make it happen, I swear." your boyfriends eyes dazed over for a second, blush still present. "I'm simply not used to it, that's all."

"You're not used to make girls cum on your face?" you teased.

Of course he wasn't. Before you he hadn't as much as held hands with someone of the opposite sex. He completely fit the die-alone virgin stereotype.

For the first time in the entire evening he had the courage to look you in the eye. With force determination he said, "I will learn for you (Y/n). If you teach me I'll be sure to satisfy you. I'm a very fast learner."

That was true. If he wasn't then he wouldn't be able to have the highest score out of everyone. His big brain was his only redemption.

"So, tell me, how do you want it?"

——-

(It’s the first time I’ve tried writing anything explicit, so hope it’s alright.)

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earthchica · 9 hours ago

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Sweetest Devotion

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: Your and Terry's son started preschool, and you and Terry continued discussing having another baby with you.

warnings: explicit smut 18+, oral (m & f ), unprotected sex, dirty talking, dilf! terry, daddy kink, breeding kink, baby fever, ovulating, fluff, five-year-old son, domestic life, angst, fainting, use of y/n, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, baby girl & more ] words: 7k

note: I really love writing for this story, it has to be my fav. Please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist one { everything I ever wanted } two { make it right } three { you are my joy }

The preschool orientation came around, and you still danced around this baby topic. Elijah happily chatted about his new friends and couldn’t wait to learn with them.

It was Elijah’s first day, and you and Terry took off work to share in the excitement. You took many pictures before heading out, once at the preschool.

You watched as Elijah walked confidently into his new class, waving goodbye and not even glancing back. You turned to Terry, chuckling nervously.

“Well, that was…weird,” you pouted. “Thought he’d at least cry a little or something.”

Terry smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist. “He’s got your confidence. Eli is a natural.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him. “Yeah, yeah. Still, I thought I’d at least get a dramatic goodbye. Maybe a tear or two. Guess I’m not as essential as I thought.”

“Oh, you’re essential, alright,” Terry said, squeezing your shoulder.

“But he’s just ready to take on the world. He’s a big boy.”

You lingered there momentarily, watching the classroom door as if expecting Elijah to burst out, realizing he’d forgotten something—or someone.

But the door remained closed, the faint sound of children laughing and teachers guiding them filtering through. You sighed, a mix of pride and wistfulness swirling in your chest.

Terry nudged you gently, his smirk softening into a smile. “Come on,” he said, tugging you down the hallway, but you heard a familiar voice calling out behind you.

“Daddy! Mama!”

You spun around to see Elijah running toward you, his little legs pumping furiously, his face full of excitement, his hazel eyes shining like twin suns.

You dropped to one knee instinctively, arms open wide, and he barreled into you with all the force of a tiny hurricane.

“Elijah!” you exclaimed, wrapping him in a tight hug, your heart swelling with relief and joy.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you forget something?” you asked changing to curious and worried.

Elijah shook his head, “No!” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you with a serious expression.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ll miss you! And… and I’ll be brave!”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you cupped his face. “Oh, Elijah,” you said, your voice trembling.

“You’re already so brave. We’re so proud of you.”

Terry knelt down beside you, caressing Elijah's head. “Yeah, little man,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to do great. And we’ll be here waiting for you when school ends.”

Elijah nodded solemnly, then leaned in to hug Terry quickly before returning to you.

“I Love you, Mama,” he said, kissing your cheek sloppy.

“I Love you too, my sweet baby,” you replied, giving him one last squeeze before standing up.

With a final wave, Elijah turned and ran back toward his classroom, where the teacher was waiting for him, his small frame disappearing through the door once more.

You stood there momentarily, watching the space where he had been, feeling the weight of his absence settle in your chest. Terry’s arm found its way around your shoulders again, pulling you close.

“He’s going to be fine,” Terry said softly, his voice reassuring. “And so are we.”

You nodded, leaning into him. “I know. It’s just… it’s a big step, you know? Our little boy is growing up.”

Terry chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, he is. But he’s still our little boy. Always will be.”

You sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess we’ve got some time to ourselves now,” you said, glancing up at him.

“What should we do?”

Terry’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, we could go get some coffee. Or… we could finally have that conversation about whether or not we’re ready for another little one.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the familiar mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside you.

“You really want to talk about it now?” you asked, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Terry shrugged, his expression softening. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he said, his tone gentle.

You hesitated, the weight of his words pressing against your chest like a stone.

The thought of another child—another tiny heartbeat to care for, another soul to mold and guide—felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

You glanced at Terry, his eyes warm and patient, waiting for your response. His hand still rested on your shoulder, steadying you.

“I… I don’t know,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Elijah’s still so little, and there’s so much to consider. Can we enjoy this?”

Terry nodded, his thumb brushing against your arm in a soothing rhythm.

“I get it,” he said softly. “It’s a big decision. And you’re right—Elijah’s still our whole world. We don’t have to rush anything.”

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly.

“I just want to make sure we’re doing it for the right reasons,” you admitted, looking up at him. "It has to feel… right.”

“Sure,” Terry said firmly, his gaze unwavering.

“And when it does feel right—whenever that is—we’ll know. ” He gave your shoulder a final squeeze before letting his hand drop.

“For now, let’s just enjoy this day. Coffee, maybe a walk, and then we’ll pick up our little man later. Sound good?” Terry added.

You nodded, a small smile breaking through the uncertainty. “Sounds perfect.”

As the weeks pass, you and Terry settle into a new routine. The days were filled with Elijah's laughter and stories about his friends at preschool, and the nights were spent in silent companionship.

You noticed the tiny distance between you and Terry - he was still the fantastic dad and husband he was, but there was a distance between you regarding intimacy.

The two of you haven't had sex in two weeks only because you haven't been in the mood, but a few days have gonna by. You were practically throwing yourself at Terry.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, Elijah was at preschool, and Terry was off work.

Instead of spending time with you. “Hey, baby! Heading into the garage for a bit,” Terry said casually.

“Gotta keep up with this routine.”

You paused, your heart skipping a beat.

Something about how he said it—so nonchalant, so routine—made you wonder if there was more to it.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Can I join you this time?”

Terry’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he nodded after a moment.

“Sure. If you want.”

You hurried upstairs to change, your mind racing.

You slipped into a form-fitting workout outfit, a tight sports bra that gave a good view of your breasts, and leggings that hugged your thick curves just enough to remind him of what he’d been missing.

The fabric clung to you in all the right places, and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You bit your lip with a spark of determination in your eyes.

When you descended the stairs, Terry was waiting by the door, looking sexy. His eyes flickered over you, and briefly, you saw something flicker in his gaze—something warm, familiar.

But just as quickly, it was replaced by his usual demeanor. “Ready?” he asked, holding the door open for you. You nodded, following him out into the cool evening air.

The walk to the garage was short but filled with tension. You could feel the space between you, charged with heat and desire. Once inside.

Terry started setting up his weights while you lingered near the thick yoga mat, stretching casually but deliberately. As you bent forward, your box braids falling over your shoulders, you caught Terry glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

You held the pose a little longer than necessary, feeling a thrill when he quickly looked away. You moved through a series of stretches, each designed to highlight your figure more.

You could feel his gaze flickering back to you occasionally, sending you a little satisfaction. You decided to take it further, letting your movements flow with a fluid grace that you knew would be hard for him to ignore.

You sank into a deep lunge, arching your back slightly so the curve of your ass became more pronounced.

"Terry," you called out softly, your voice carrying a teasing lilt. "Can you give me a hand with this pose? I think my form might be off."

He hesitated momentarily, clearly trying to stay focused on his routine, but eventually, he set down the dumbbell he was holding and walked over.

"Sure," he said, his tone neutral but his eyes lingering just a beat too long on your body. "What do you need?"

"Just guide my hips a little," you said innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. "I want to make sure I’m aligned properly."

Terry’s hands hovered uncertainly for a moment before settling on your hips.

His touch was tentative at first, but his grip tightened ever so slightly as he adjusted your stance. You could feel the warmth of his palms through the thin fabric of your leggings, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Like this?" Terry asked, his voice low and a little strained.

"Almost," you murmured, shifting your weight subtly so your ass brushed against his crotch. You felt him stiffen, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, his hands lingered, fingers pressing into your hips with a barely restrained intensity. You arched your back just a little more, letting the curve of your spine draw his gaze downward.

“There,” you said softly, your voice like honey. “That feels perfect.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, electric, and undeniable. You could hear the faintest hitch in his breath, the way it caught in his throat as his eyes traced the line of your body.

Then, slowly, you rose from the lunge, turning to face him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, and you tilted your head up ever so slightly, your lips parted just enough to be inviting.

“Thanks, baby, you’re the best,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but heavy with meaning. You stepped back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“I think I’ve got it now.”

Terry’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as they met yours. He didn’t say anything, but how he looked at you—like he was teetering on the edge of something—was enough to make your heart race.

You knew you had him right where you wanted him, and the power of that knowledge sent a thrill coursing through your veins. You turned away from him with a sly smile, swaying your hips just enough to keep him hooked.

"Alright then," you said, your tone light but laced with intention. "Guess I’ll get back to it."

You moved away from him, putting just enough distance between you two to make him ache. Then, without warning, you dropped into a quick set of jumping jacks.

Your arms swung wide, and your breasts bounced rhythmically with each motion, drawing his gaze like a magnet. You could feel his eyes on you, hot and heavy, but you didn’t look back. Instead, you kept going, letting the rhythm of your movement amplify the tension in the room.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, low enough that he probably thought you couldn’t hear it. But you did, and it only fueled your fire.

"Somethin’ wrong, Terry?" you called out between breaths, your voice dripping with feigned innocence as you continued your exercise.

"You lookin’ a little… distracted over there."

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Nah," he said gruffly, his voice rough like gravel.

"Just makin’ sure you keeping that form tight. Can’t have you slacking now.” But the way his eyes stayed glued to your body betrayed him—his words were weak, and you both knew it.

You slowed, letting your arms fall to your sides as you turned to face him again. Sweat glistened on your skin, and you licked your lips slowly, deliberately, watching his gaze follow the movement.

“Oh, I ain’t slacking, baby,” you purred, stepping closer to him with a sway in your hips that made his breath hitch. “You the one lookin’ all kinds of tense over there. Maybe you need some… loosening up.”

His jaw clenched, and you could see the muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to keep control. But you weren’t about to let him off that easy.

You closed the distance between you, standing so close that your breasts brushed against his chest again with every breath. Your hand reached up, fingers trailing lightly along the curve of his jaw before sliding down to rest on his chest.

You could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and it only made you smirk.

“You like what you see?” you whispered. Your voice was low and sultry, dripping with confidence, making Terry’s breath catch in his throat. "Do you want me right now?

His chest rose and fell faster now, his eyes locked on yours like he was trying to figure out if you were playing or serious. But you weren’t playing.

Not this time.

“You know I do,” he finally replied, his voice deep and low. His hand grabbed your wrist lightly but didn’t pull it away. Instead, he pressed your palm firmer against his chest, letting you feel the heat of him, the way his heart was pounding like a drumbeat just for you.

“You know I always want you.”

You tilted your head, your lips curling into a sly smile as you leaned in closer, your breath brushing against his ear.

“Then why you have been actin’ like you don’t?” you murmured, your voice honey-sweet but cutting straight to the point.

“Why have you been keeping your distance, Terry? You ain’t been touching me like you used to. Ain’t been lookin’ at me like you need me.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction. His tone steady but laced with something raw, something unspoken.

“I have been respecting your wishes, baby. You said you haven't been in the mood, so I wasn't gonna push.” His voice dropped lower, a growl that sent shivers down your spine.

“But don’t for a second think I don’t want you every damn day.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, your fingers trailing down his chest, over the hard planes of his abs, until they rested just above the waistband of his shorts.

“Respecting my wishes, huh?” you teased, your voice dripping with a playful challenge.

“That’s cute, Terry. That's really sweet of you. I'm sorry…that's on me, but I am in the mood now, fuck me, please, I need you, Daddy” Your fingers dipped lower, brushing against the bulge in his shorts, and you felt him twitch beneath your touch.

“You have been holding back on me, and it’s been driving’ me crazy. I like it when you’re all over me, even if I say I’m not in the mood.”

Terry’s breath hitched, his hands moving to your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that made your knees weak.

“Fuck” he growled, his voice low, and his eyes were dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

“Let’s fix it,” he said, his voice firm. “Right now.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, claiming you with a desperation that took your breath away. It wasn’t soft or gentle; it was raw and consuming like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d been distant.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

“I miss your touch, Daddy,” You moaned, taking his tank off, went to caress his erection through his shorts, and got on your knees while looking up at him.

Terry’s breath hitched as your fingers traced his outline through the fabric, his hands instinctively finding their way to your shoulders.

“Baby…” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers tightened slightly, grounding himself as you looked up at him with those big doe eyes that always seemed to see straight through him.

You didn’t waste any time, tugging at the waistband of his shorts until they slid down his hips, freeing him. The sight of him—hard and ready for you—sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip before letting your tongue trace a slow, deliberate path along his length. His hips jerked involuntarily, and you could feel the tension in his body as he fought to keep himself still.

“Damn, girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained. His hands moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading through your braids as you took him deeper into your mouth.

Your rhythm was slow and deliberate, each movement designed to drive him wild. He let out a low growl, his grip tightening just enough to let you know he was barely holding it together.

But you weren’t done yet.

You pulled back slightly, teasing him with the tip of your tongue before taking him in again, this time deeper, your lips wrapping around him with practiced ease.

Terry’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to maintain control. "You’re gonna be the death of me," he muttered, his voice shaking with need.

Your hands moved to his hips, anchoring him as you continued to work him with your mouth, each stroke drawing out more of those delicious sounds from him.

You could feel the tension coiling in his body, the way his muscles tightened beneath your touch. Knowing you had this kind of power over him was intoxicating, knowing you could bring him to the edge so effortlessly.

But you wanted more than just his pleasure. You wanted to see him unravel completely, to hear every filthy word spill from those lips as he lost himself in you.

Pulling back with a slow, deliberate drag of your tongue, you looked up at him, your lips glistening, your eyes heavy with desire. “You wanna feel how much I’ve been missing you, Daddy?” you purred, your voice dripping with honeyed temptation.

Your hands slid up his thighs, nails digging lightly into his skin as you teased him with your words. “You wanna know how much I’ve been dreaming about this? ‘Bout you?”

Terry’s jaw clenched, his chest heaving as he stared down at you, his eyes burning with a fire that made your entire body ache. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“You been dreaming ‘bout me, baby? ‘Bout what I’d do to you?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Dreaming ‘bout how you’d stretch me out, fill me up, make me scream your name ‘til the neighbors call the cops.”

You licked your lips, your eyes locking with his, unflinching. “Dreaming’ ‘bout how you’d hold me down, make me take every inch of you ‘til I’m begging for mercy. Dreaming ‘bout how you’d make me yours—all over again.”

Terry let out a guttural groan, his free hand gripping your hair tighter as he pulled you closer to him. “Mmm...let me make that dream come true, would you like that?” he growled, his voice dark and dangerous.

“Yes, let me finish,” you said, your voice sultry and defiant. You leaned in again, taking him into your mouth once more, this time with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Your tongue swirled around him, your lips working him with a rhythm that had his legs trembling beneath him. You could feel the way his body tensed, the way he fought to keep himself from thrusting too hard.

“Shit,” he hissed, his head falling back as he let out a string of curses that only spurred you on. “You gon’ make me lose it, girl. Fuck, you got me ready to bust, and you ain’t even let me touch you yet.”

His voice was raw and ragged like it was being ripped from his chest. “You think you can handle all this pent-up tension? You think you can take what I got for you?”

You pulled back just enough to let him see the wicked grin on your lips, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Daddy, yes, give me all that you got,” you purred, your voice smoky and full of promise.

“I have been waiting for this, waiting for you.”

Terry’s laugh was low and throaty, but it didn’t mask the hunger in his eyes. He reached down, gripped your braids, and guided you back to him.

“You talkin’ like that you didn't have me waiting for it first,” he murmured, his voice dripping with menace. “But Imma give you exactly what you've been asking’ for.”

His grip tightened as he pressed himself more profoundly into your mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest.

“Shit, baby! You're so good at this—like you were born just to suck me off,” Terry growled, his voice thick with lust. He pulled you up suddenly, his hands rough and possessive as they roamed your body.

“But I’mma need more than that pretty pussy right now. I miss it.” Terry said, dragging you across the room, his movements urgent and commanding.

Your heart raced as he tossed you onto a thick, plush mat on the floor, the friction of the fabric against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Terry loomed over you, his eyes blazing with hunger, and you knew there was no escaping what was coming next. “On all fours,” he ordered, his voice low and gravelly, leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed instantly, your body trembling with anticipation as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees. Terry knelt behind you, his hands gripping your hips with a dominance that made your breath hitch.

Terry ripped a hole in your leggings, the sound of fabric tearing echoing through the room. "Oh baby," he muttered, his voice dripping with approval as he exposed your ass.

He smacked it hard, the sharp sting making you gasp and arch your back. "You been walking’ around like this, all this ass out here tempting me? You knew what you were doing!"

Terry growled, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending shivers through your body as he leaned down, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have done it now. You got me all worked up, and I ain’t letting you off easy.”

His tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive skin at the small of your back before trailing lower, leaving a wet, hot path that made you shudder.

“Fuck, Terry,” you moaned, your voice trembling as his hands spread you open wider. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin as his tongue dipped lower, brushing against the folds of your pussy with a teasing flick.

“Damn, baby,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he pressed his face deeper between your ass cheeks.

“You taste so fuckin’ good. Like sweet candy—I could eat this pussy all day.” His tongue swirled around your clit, slow and deliberate, drawing a whimper from your lips.

“You like that? You like how Daddy’s taking care of you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your hands clawing at the mat beneath you as his tongue worked you like a damn masterpiece. “Yes, Daddy,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with need.

“Please—fuck, don’t stop.”

He growled against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. “You beggin’ already?” he teased, pulling back just enough to make you ache.

“Nah, baby.....” His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he leaned back, his dick hard and heavy against your ass.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he traced a finger down the curve of your spine. “All this ass up in the air, just begging for me to ruin you.”

He smacked your ass again, harder this time, the sting making you cry out and push back against him instinctively. “Yeah, that’s it,” he said, his voice dripping with approval.

“Show me how bad you want it.”

“Please, Terry,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation as you rocked back against him. “I need it—I need you inside me. Fuck me, please, big daddy.”

Terry chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his dick teasing your slick folds.

"You sure, baby?" Terry murmured his voice a low growl that made your stomach tighten.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you pushed back against him, trying to take him in. "Please, Daddy—I need it. I need you so bad."

"Alright," Terry said, his voice thick with approval as he gripped your hips and slammed into you in one smooth, brutal stroke. The air left your lungs in a rush, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as he filled you, stretching you most deliciously.

"Fuck," Terry groaned, his voice strained as he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feel of him. "Pussy always gotta gripping’ me like it ain’t never letting go."

"Don’t stop," you begged, your voice shaking as you clenched around him, your body already craving more. "Please—fuck me."

"Shit," Terry muttered, his hands tightening on your hips as he pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, the force of it making your breath hitch.

"You feel that, baby? That’s all me, stretching�� you out, makin’ this pussy mine." His thrusts were relentless, each one deeper and harder than the last, and you could feel the heat building in your core with every movement.

"Damn, you take it so well," Terry growled, his voice rough and raw with need. "This pussy was made for me and only me—you hear me? Made. For. Me."

"Y-yes, Terry," you stammered, your voice breaking as he hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

"All yours—only yours." Your hands clawed at the mat beneath you, desperate for something to hold onto as he fucked you senseless, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body.

"That’s right," Terry said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he leaned over you, one hand sliding up to grip your throat just enough to make your pulse race.

"You’re the best wife, Y/N the best thing that's ever happened to me. I’m so grateful to call you mine,” he added.

“Oh, Terry, yes,” you moaned, feeling grabbed your breasts through your sports bra.

“Fuck…always takin’ this dick like a champ—like you were born for it. Turn around for me, and let me see your face and those tits."

You whimpered at his command, your body trembling as you turned to lay on your back as he slides his dick deep inside you. The movement made you gasp, the fullness of him sending a jolt of pleasure through your core.

Terry’s dark eyes locked onto yours, his gaze hungry and predatory as he hovered over you, his hands moving to tear off your sports bra swiftly.

Your breasts spilled free, and he groaned low in his throat, his eyes taking over your exposed skin like he was devouring you whole. Terry growled, his voice thick with lust as he palmed your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples.

“Look at you—fuckin’ perfect. These tits? Mine. This pussy? Mine. All of you—mine.” Terry leaned down, capturing one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he rolled the other between his fingers.

The dual sensation made you arch into him, a desperate moan escaping your lips as he teased and tormented you.

“Terry, please,” you begged, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued to feast on you. “I need you to keep going…fuck me more, please.”

Terry pulled back with a wet pop, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he looked down at you. "No need to beg, baby," he said, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

"You already know I’m gon’ give you what you need." His hands slid down your body, rough and wild, gripping your hips as he pulled out slowly, teasing you with the drag of his dick before slamming back in with a force that made you cry out.

"Fuck, Terry!" you screamed, your nails digging into his shoulders as he set a brutal pace, each thrust driving more profound, more challenging, until you felt like he was everywhere—filling you, owning you, consuming you.

"Y-you feel so good—so damn good!" you moaned. "Yes, do you feel that? Feel how deep I’m in you? Huh?" Terry asked.

"Yes, I feel it!" you cried out, your back arching off the mat as he pounded into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

"You’re so deep—oh, you’re everywhere! Terry, please—I need more! Fuck another baby in me, please!"

"Are you sure?" Terry growled, his eyes dark with hunger as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth with the same intensity as his dick was ravaging your core.

"Because I’ll give you what you want. You want me to put another baby in you? Huh? Are you ready for that?"

"Yes, please, yes!" you moaned into his mouth, your hands moving to grip his ass, pulling him deeper still.

"Fuck, you beg so pretty," Terry snarled, his voice dripping with raw desire as he slammed into you again, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room.

"You hear that? That sound your pussy makin’ when I hit it? That’s what I wanna hear every damn night. You gon’ give me that, huh? Gon’ let me wreck this pussy whenever I want?"

"Yes, Terry—oh fuck, yes!" you cried out, your body trembling as he drove into you with relentless force. His words were filthy, dripping with a hunger that matched his movements, and they only made you want him more.

"Wreck me—fuck me however you want! I’m yours—all yours, fuck another baby into me please!"

Terry’s hands tightened around your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he leaned back slightly, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You want another baby? Huh? You want me to fill you up, plant my seed deep in you, and watch you grow with another child inside you?”

“Yes!” you screamed, your voice hoarse from the relentless pleasure as you clawed at his chest, your nails raking down his skin. “I want it—I want you to fill me! I need it, Terry—please!”

Terry growled low, the sound primal, as he thrust into you harder, faster, each stroke more punishing than the last.

The garage was filled with the raw, wet sounds of your bodies colliding, the slapping of skin against skin, and the desperate, breathless moans spilling from your lips.

“Say it again,” Terry demanded, his voice rough and guttural, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he pulled you into him with every brutal stroke.

“Say you want me to come inside you, to make another baby. Say it.”

“I want it! I want you to come inside me—oh, Terry, please! I need it—I need you to fill me up!”

“Fuck,” Terry cursed, his face twisted in a mixture of pleasure and raw, animalistic need. “You’re such a good girl, takin’ this dick like you were made for it. My girl, my wife, my everything.”

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly as he pounded into you, each thrust lifting you off the mat.

The world around you blurred, the only focus the relentless drive of his hips, the heat building in your core, and the raw, unfiltered pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

“Come on, baby,” Terry growled, his voice strained as he leaned over you again, his mouth brushing against your ear.

“I feel you squeezing me, but don’t you dare come yet. You hear me? You wait for me. We come together.”

“T-Terry, please—I—” You couldn’t finish the sentence, your breath catching as he hit that perfect spot again, your body trembling on the edge of release.

“Not yet,” Terry snapped, his thrusts becoming erratic, wild, as he chased his own climax. “Hold on, baby—hold on for me!”

Your hands clawed at his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him deeper, your body desperate for more. The heat inside you was building, coiling tighter and tighter until it became almost unbearable.

“Let me see your face,” Terry growled, lifting his head to lock his eyes with yours. “I want to see you when you cum. I want to see my baby full of my dick, takin’ every inch like the good girl you are.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you could feel the dam breaking. “Terry—I can’t—oh fuck—”

“Now,” he barked, his voice harsh as he slammed into you one final, brutal time. “Cum now, sweetheart”

Your body obeyed, the release tearing through you like a freight train as you screamed, the sound raw and guttural. Terry wasn’t far behind, his growl deep and primal as he buried himself inside you, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, hot and thick.

For a moment, time stood still as the two of you rode the wave of your climaxes; the only sound was your ragged breathing and the pounding of your heart.

Then, slowly, Terry collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mat as he buried his face in your neck, his chest heaving with exertion.

Terry flips off of you and lies there; his breath slowly steadies, and he turns his head to gaze into your eyes, the intensity still burning within them.

Terry brushed a braid from your face, his touch tender yet charged with the remnants of their passion. "Fuck...I love you," he whispered, his voice still husky.

"I love you too, Terry." You smiled weakly, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of their climax. Terry shifted slightly, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you like a shield.

The garage was quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of the world outside, a stark contrast to the raw energy that had filled the space just moments before.

As you lay there, the weight of Terry's words settled over you. The want for another child, for the expansion of your family, lingered in the air.

You thought about the future, about the possibilities, and how this moment might be the beginning of something new. Terry's hand drifted to your belly, his fingers tracing gentle circles as if envisioning the life that might soon grow there.

"We'll see," he murmured, a soft smile on his lips. "We'll see."

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks slipped into a month, then more. Life fell into its familiar rhythm, but something felt different.

At first, it was just a faint morning nausea, a queasiness that lingered long after breakfast. You brushed it off as a stomach bug, something that would pass.

But as the days went on, the sickness persisted, and with it came a weariness that clung to you like a second skin. You were always tired, no matter how much you slept, and the smell of the simplest meals could send you running for the bathroom.

Terry noticed first, of course. He always did. He’d watch you with that sharp, observant gaze, his brow furrowing when you pushed food around your plate or excused yourself again to be sick.

“You should go to the doctor,” Terry said one morning as you sat on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.

“You’ve been feeling like shit for weeks. It’s probably just a bug, but you must ensure it’s not something more serious. You might be pregnant; we've been trying.”

But you were stubborn, not thinking you were pregnant just yet, even if you two were trying. You shook your head, insisting you were okay, that it was just stress or something you’d eaten.

Terry sighed and dropped it, but he wasn’t convinced. Then came the day at the zoo. Elijah was bouncing with excitement, his tiny hands clutching the map as he dragged Terry toward the lion enclosure.

You trailed behind, the sun beating down on you, making your head swim. The air was thick with the smells of popcorn and sweat, and your stomach churned in protest.

You paused and took a breath while leaning against a railing as the world spun around you. “Mama! Mama, look! The lions are eating!” Elijah’s voice carried back to you, distant but clear.

You tried to smile, to wave, but your vision blurred at the edges. Terry turned, his expression shifting from amusement to concern in an instant.

“Hey,” Terry said, stepping closer. “You good you look-.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, but your voice wavered.

"Sweetheart, you know it's me you're talking...I know when something is wrong," Terry said, but the ground tipped beneath your feet, and everything went black before you could stop it.

"Daddy, I think she's waking up," you heard a familiar voice as you opened your eyes and lay in a clinic bed.

Terry’s face was etched with worry, and Elijah sat in a chair beside him, his small face drawn.

“Thank God,” Terry whispered, his voice cracking as he took your hand.

"What happened?" You whispered.

“You fainted, scared the hell out of us, baby.”

You tried to speak again, but your throat was dry. A nurse bustled in, smiling warmly, and handed you a cup of water.

“Take small sips,” she said. “You’ve been out for 20 mintues.”

As you drank, the doctor came in, clipboard in hand. “Good to see you’re awake, Mrs. Richmond,” he said.

“You fainted at the zoo; your husband brought you in. We ran some tests." The doctor’s voice was calm and reassuring, but you could sense a hint of excitement beneath his professional demeanor.

“You fainted due to a combination of dehydration and low blood sugar, but…” The doctor paused, glancing at Terry and Elijah before returning to you.

“We also found something else during the tests.”

Terry’s hand tightened around yours, his eyes narrowing slightly as if bracing for news. Elijah, oblivious to the tension, leaned forward, his curiosity piqued.

“What is it?” Elijah asked, his tiny voice breaking the silence. The doctor smiled a small smile that put you at ease. “It seems you’re going to be a family of four soon. You’re pregnant.”

The words hung in the air like a whispered secret, their weight settling over you like a soft blanket. You blinked, your mind racing. Pregnant?

Terry gave you a *I told ya so* look and you should've known, and the nausea, the fatigue, it all made sense. A small, incredulous laugh bubbled up in your throat, but it caught there, leaving you breathless.

Terry’s face transformed in an instant. His initial shock melted into a vast, radiant smile, and he squeezed your hand so hard it almost hurt.

“Really?” Terry asked, his voice trembling with hope. “Are you sure?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, very sure. She's about eight weeks along. Everything looks healthy. You just need to stay hydrated, Mrs. Richmond, take it easy for a while, and come in for regular check-ups.”

Elijah, who had been quietly processing this information, suddenly jumped.

“We’re gonna have a baby!” Elijah exclaimed, his voice ringing. He jumped on the bed and threw his arms around your neck, almost knocking over the water cup on the bedside table.

“I’m gonna be a big brother! I’m gonna teach them everything!”

You laughed then, the sound breaking free from your chest. It was a shaky, half-tearful laugh, but it felt good. Terry leaned over, kissing your forehead, his eyes shining with unspoken promises.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Terry whispered. “We’re gonna be great.”

The doctor smiled again, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, stepping out of the room.

“We’ll set you up with an appointment with your preferred OBGYN for a follow-up, and I’ll send in a nurse with more information.”

As the door closed behind him, you looked at Terry and Elijah, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.

“I’m gonna be a big brother,” Elijah repeated with a giggle. He pressed a small, earnest kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll take care of the baby, Mama. I promise.”

Terry chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “I think we’re all going to take care of the baby,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“Together.”

You leaned into him, feeling his warmth, his strength, and let the happiness wash over you.

TAGS

@saturnville @kisssssssssssss @grlsbstshot @nayaesworld @onherereading @blyffe @duhitzkay380

@milktert @sefiya0x @urgirlygoddess @honeytoffee @cocooned-butterfly

@vivaalenaa @m1sk1n3 @blackpinup22 @writingsbytee

@peachbuttetfly @ayeeeitsmiracle @fakxmbj @ariiaellbtheedonn

#Terry Richmond x Black Reader #terry richmond x reader #terry richmond x black!reader #terry richmond fic #terry richmond fanfiction #aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond #terry richmond x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black fem reader #terry richmond x black! fem plus size reader #terry Richmond x plus size reader #terry richmond x fem reader #terry richmond fluff #rebel ridge #terry richmond angst #terry richmond smut

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koyagifs · 16 hours ago

Text

𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷

『pairing』: spiderman! san x reader ft. wooyoung 『au』: marvel | spider-verse | 『genre』: angst | 『summary』: san knew the consequences of being spiderman, but he didn't realize the fact that you would someday be apart of it as well.. 『word count』: 3.4k 『warning(s)』: green goblin, san trying his best :(. Woo to the rescue ( as a bestie )

San's hands trembled slightly as he handed you the cup, though he tried to play it off by scratching the back of his neck. He avoided your gaze, knowing full well that the guilt of lying to you was evident on his face. Being Spider-Man had changed everything in his life, including the way he loved you.

"Work's just been... crazy lately," he muttered, sitting across from you on the couch. The faint bruise on his jawline, just barely peeking out from under his collar, didn’t go unnoticed.

You narrowed your eyes, setting the coffee down on the table. "Crazy enough for you to miss date night three weeks in a row? And for you to show up looking like you lost a fight with a wall every other time I see you?"

San flinched but forced a weak laugh. "I'm clumsy, you know that."

You leaned forward, concern softening your features. "Sannie, you can tell me if something's wrong. I just... I feel like you're keeping something from me. Is it the job? Did something happen at the Bugle?"

He looked at you then, and for a moment, his heart clenched painfully. You deserved the truth. You deserved to know everything. But the memory of the last time he let someone close to him know about Spider-Man played over and over in his head. The danger, the consequences—it wasn’t worth risking your life.

"It’s just the job," he lied, hating himself more with every word. "Jonah's been running me ragged with all these deadlines. And, uh, there’s this big assignment I’m working on. It’s been keeping me out late."

"An assignment?" you asked, tilting your head. "Does it have to do with Spider-Man? You’re always bringing in those crazy photos of him."

San swallowed hard, forcing a casual shrug. "Yeah, something like that."

You studied him for a moment, clearly unconvinced but choosing not to push. "Okay, fine. But if you’re overworking yourself, promise me you’ll take a break, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this."

San smiled faintly, the warmth of your concern only deepening his resolve to protect you. "I promise."

But as he watched you sip your coffee, blissfully unaware of the world he carried on his shoulders, he knew it was a promise he couldn’t keep.

The weight in your chest grew heavier as you stared at the blank screen of your phone. No missed calls. No texts. Just the same empty silence that had started to feel all too familiar. You sighed, setting the phone down on the table next to the untouched breadbasket, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment coursing through you.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, filled with the soft hum of chatter and the clinking of silverware. Yet, in that moment, you felt completely out of place, like a painting hung in the wrong gallery.

The waiter approached again, their polite smile faltering slightly. “Would you like to order something while you wait?”

You forced a small smile. “Not yet, thank you. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

They nodded, retreating back to the kitchen, but you could feel their pity lingering in the air.

Another glance at your watch. He was over an hour late. This was supposed to be a night for the two of you—a rare moment where San had promised you his undivided attention. No work. No excuses. Just the two of you and the kind of love that had once felt so effortless.

You tried to brush away the doubts creeping into your mind, but they were relentless. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this—missed a date without so much as a word. The excuses always came later, flimsy and unconvincing, but you wanted so badly to believe them because it was San.

" yn? is that you?"

You looked up to see Wooyoung, you gave him a polite smile, waving at him. He was quick to sit across you.

" what are you doing here alone? waiting for san?"

“Wooyoung,” you said softly, surprised to see him. His sudden presence was like a gust of fresh air breaking through the suffocating heaviness you’d been feeling. “Yeah, I’m waiting for San.”

Wooyoung tilted his head, his ever-curious gaze settling on the untouched wine in front of you. “Hmm, how long have you been waiting?” he asked, his tone light but laced with concern.

You hesitated, swirling the glass absentmindedly. “About an hour.”

His eyes widened slightly before narrowing in annoyance—not at you, but at the situation. “An hour? Seriously? What’s he doing, fighting off villains or something?” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You gave him a weak smile. “You know how he is. Work gets in the way a lot.”

Wooyoung frowned, leaning forward, his voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “That doesn’t mean he should leave you sitting here by yourself. You deserve better than this, Y/N.”

You looked down at your hands, his words stinging in a way you didn’t expect. “It’s not always like this. He’s just… busy.”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened as he watched you struggle to defend San. He reached across the table, resting his hand lightly over yours.

" why don't we hang out hm? It's been years since we last seen each other anyways"

You glanced down at Wooyoung's hand resting over yours, his touch gentle yet steady. The weight of his words lingered in the air, a mix of nostalgia and comfort that pulled at your heart.

“It really has been years, hasn’t it?” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. Memories of late-night adventures and endless laughter with Wooyoung flickered through your mind like an old film reel.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Exactly. So, let’s catch up. No pressure, no strings. Just two old friends grabbing a bite or doing something fun.”

You hesitated, your mind drifting to San. You’d been waiting for him all night, hoping for some time together, yet here was Wooyoung, offering you the one thing San had been struggling to give: his undivided attention.

“Are you sure you don’t have somewhere else to be?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing.

Wooyoung scoffed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Y/N, I’m offended. Do you really think I’d leave you here by yourself after all this time?”

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself. “Okay, okay. You win.”

His grin widened, and he gave your hand a light squeeze before letting go. “Great! Where to? Fancy wine isn’t really my style, but I know a killer street food spot nearby. Unless you’re craving something else?”

You looked at him, his enthusiasm infectious. For the first time that evening, the disappointment and frustration that had been weighing you down seemed to lift. “Street food sounds perfect.”

Just as you stood to grab your coat, your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced at the screen to see San’s name flashing, a wave of conflicted emotions washing over you.

Wooyoung noticed your hesitation and leaned closer, his voice low and sincere. “It’s your call, Y/N. But whatever you decide, just make sure it’s what you want, not what you feel obligated to do.”

You met his gaze, his words resonating deeply. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone, but instead of answering, you slid it into your bag.

“Let’s go, Woo,” you said, a newfound sense of clarity in your voice.

His face lit up, and he offered his arm with a playful wink. “That’s what I’m talking about. Lead the way, my lady.”

San’s brow furrowed as he swung through the city, the wind rushing past him. His grip tightened on the web-line as he landed on a nearby rooftop, staring down at the glowing city streets below. He glanced at the time on his phone. An hour and twenty minutes late. The guilt he’d been carrying all night only deepened as he realized just how much he’d let you down—again.

San’s mind raced as he approached the restaurant, his heart pounding. What if you were still there? What if you weren’t? The thought of you leaving, of giving up on him, was enough to make his stomach twist.

Swinging down to the alley beside the restaurant, he quickly pulled off his mask, stuffing it into his backpack and smoothing his hair. He stepped inside, scanning the room, but his heart sank when he didn’t see you.

What he did see, however, was the waiter clearing the table where you’d been sitting. The half-empty glass of wine, the untouched breadbasket—it all painted a picture he couldn’t ignore.

San approached the waiter hesitantly. “Excuse me. The woman who was sitting there—did she leave long ago?”

The waiter gave him a look of recognition, paired with mild irritation. “She waited for over an hour. Another gentleman joined her for a bit before they left together.”

Another gentleman? San’s jaw clenched. “Did she say where she was going?”

The waiter shook his head, clearly unimpressed. “She didn’t mention anything. Maybe try calling her.”

San nodded, murmuring a quiet thank you before stepping back out onto the street. His mind reeled as he pieced things together. Another man? Who could it have been?

Then it hit him. Wooyoung.

San pulled out his phone, his fingers hovering over your name in his contacts. He wanted to call, to explain, to beg you to give him another chance—but he didn’t.

Instead, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and started walking, his head hanging low. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t let his double life hurt the people he loved, but tonight, he’d failed you.

And now, he couldn’t shake the image of you walking away with someone who might actually make you feel like you mattered.

You were laughing at something Wooyoung had said as you two walked side by side.

" so, how are you and San? Surprised that he hasn't put a ring on it just yet?"

You let out a soft chuckle at Wooyoung's playful teasing, though his question hit a little closer to home than you’d expected. “San and I…” you trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you glanced at the ground.

Wooyoung noticed the hesitation and slowed his steps, his usual grin softening into something gentler. “Hey, I was just joking,” he said quickly, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “No, it’s okay. It’s just…” You paused, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Things between us haven’t exactly been easy lately. He’s so busy with work, and I just feel like… like I’m always waiting for him.”

Wooyoung frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. “Y/N, that doesn’t sound fair to you. Relationships are supposed to be a two-way street, not one person doing all the waiting.”

You shrugged, your hand brushing against his as you walked. “I know he’s trying, but it’s hard not to feel… invisible sometimes.”

Wooyoung stopped walking, gently catching your wrist to make you turn toward him. “You are not invisible,” he said firmly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Anyone who makes you feel that way doesn’t deserve you. And I’m not just saying that because I think you’re amazing.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his words. “Woo…”

He held up his hands, taking a small step back to give you space. “Sorry, didn’t mean to go full motivational speaker on you,” he said with a small laugh. “I just hate seeing you like this. You deserve to feel loved and appreciated, not like you’re some afterthought.”

Your chest tightened at his words, emotions swirling inside you. Wooyoung had always been honest—sometimes to a fault—but hearing him say these things out loud made it harder to ignore the doubts that had been creeping into your mind for weeks.

The joyful moment between you and Wooyoung shattered as piercing screams echoed through the street. People began scattering in all directions, panic and chaos erupting like wildfire. Your heart pounded as you instinctively grabbed Wooyoung’s arm, your breath catching when you heard the sinister laughter reverberating above the chaos.

“Green Goblin,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, his grip on your hand tightening protectively. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Before you could respond, a deafening explosion shook the ground, sending shards of glass and debris flying through the air. Wooyoung yanked you closer, shielding you with his body as the two of you ducked into a nearby alley.

Your mind raced as adrenaline surged through your veins. “What the hell is he doing here?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Wooyoung peeked around the corner, his face pale but resolute. “Whatever it is, we don’t want to stick around to find out.”

The eerie cackle grew louder, closer, and your stomach churned as you caught a glimpse of Green Goblin’s glider swooping through the air, smoke trailing behind it. He hurled another pumpkin bomb, the explosion lighting up the street and sending more terrified civilians scrambling for cover.

Wooyoung pulled you further into the alley, his hand steady on your back as he guided you toward an exit. “We’ll head toward the subway. It’s safer underground.”

But as the two of you started running, another explosion rocked the area, forcing you to stumble. You looked up just in time to see the glider hovering above the alley entrance, Green Goblin’s twisted grin visible even from a distance.

“Well, well, what have we here?” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “A lovely couple out for a stroll? How quaint.”

Wooyoung stepped in front of you, his stance tense but unwavering. “Stay behind me,” he whispered, his voice low but firm.

“Woo, we need to run,” you urged, panic bubbling in your throat.

Green Goblin tilted his head, clearly amused. “Oh, don’t run now. The fun’s just getting started!” He tossed another bomb, but before it could hit, a streak of red shot through the air, webbing it mid-flight and flinging it away.

Your heart skipped a beat as Spider-Man swung into view, landing gracefully between you and the Green Goblin. His suit gleamed under the flickering streetlights, his posture tense and ready for battle.

“Sorry, Gobbie,” Spider-Man quipped, his tone sharp but calm. “Date night’s officially canceled.”

“Spider-Man,” Green Goblin snarled, his grin turning feral. “Always ruining my fun.”

San had to do a double take when he realized who he had just saved. His heart pounded loudly in his ear now when he knew your life was on the line. Goblin noticed his double take, causing him to swoop down and grab you away from Wooyoung who you tried to hold to.

“Y/N!” San’s voice cracked as he watched Green Goblin swoop down, his clawed hand yanking you away from Wooyoung’s grasp. You screamed, reaching out for Wooyoung, but the Goblin’s iron grip held you tight, dragging you into the air.

“Ah, this one’s special to you, isn’t she, Spider-Man?” Green Goblin taunted, his laughter echoing through the chaos. He ascended higher, dangling you precariously over the street below. “Let’s see how well you fight when your heart’s on the line!”

“No!” San shouted, panic surging through him. He launched a web at the glider, trying to pull it down, but Goblin swerved at the last second, sending the web latching onto a lamppost instead.

“Let her go!” San demanded, his voice shaking with barely contained rage. He swung after you, his mind racing. Every instinct screamed at him to act fast, but he knew the Goblin would exploit his desperation.

Wooyoung stumbled back, his face pale as he watched the scene unfold. “San...” he murmured, realization dawning on him. He shook himself out of his shock and turned, looking for a way to help, but the battle raging above was beyond anything he could do.

“Poor Spider-Man,” Goblin crooned mockingly, his glider zigzagging through the air with you in tow. “What will you choose, hm? The girl or the city?” He tilted his head, then suddenly hurled a pumpkin bomb toward a nearby building.

The explosion sent debris raining down onto the street, and San’s stomach twisted. He didn’t have time to think. He shot a web to catch falling rubble, using all his strength to yank it away from the scattering civilians below.

“Stop it!” you cried, struggling against the Goblin’s grip. “You’re insane!”

“Oh, my dear,” Goblin sneered, his grip tightening on you. “Insanity is just another word for freedom.”

San swung toward the Goblin with everything he had, firing a web straight at the Goblin’s arm. This time, it hit its mark. “I said, let her go!” he roared, yanking hard enough to jolt the Goblin off balance.

With a snarl, Green Goblin flung you aside, sending you plummeting through the air. Time seemed to slow as your scream tore through the night.

San’s heart stopped. He didn’t think—he just moved. In one fluid motion, he shot a web toward you, snagging your waist before you could fall too far. He yanked you toward him, catching you in his arms mid-air as he swung to safety.

“Got you,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tightly.

A choked sobbed left your lips as he put you down next to Wooyoung who was quick to take you into his arms.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung murmured, his voice shaky as he pulled you into his arms. He held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head as you buried your face into his shoulder, the sobs wracking your body uncontrollably.

San stood there for a moment, his mask hiding the raw pain etched into his face. His chest heaved as he fought to steady his breathing, the image of you being torn from his grasp burned into his mind. He wanted to hold you, comfort you, but seeing you in Wooyoung’s arms brought a sharp ache to his heart.

San’s hands curled into fists as he turned away, unable to look at you in Wooyoung’s arms for a second longer. His heart twisted with every step he took toward the edge of the rooftop, but he forced himself to push those feelings aside. He had a job to do.

Without a word, he leapt off the building, his webs shooting out to carry him back into the fray. The city’s chaos blurred around him as his mind honed in on one goal: taking down Green Goblin and ensuring no one else got hurt tonight.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung guided you carefully through the streets, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as you trembled against him. Your apartment wasn’t far, but every noise—a car horn, a distant shout—made your body tense, your mind flashing back to the terrifying moments from earlier.

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung reassured you, his voice soft but steady. “We’re almost there. You’re safe now.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight as the weight of everything pressed down on you. Your legs felt like jelly, barely able to keep up with Wooyoung’s steady pace as he guided you toward your apartment. The revelation that San was Spider-Man played on a loop in your mind, intertwining with the terrifying memory of being in Green Goblin’s grasp.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of Wooyoung’s jacket like a lifeline. The warmth of his presence grounded you, but your thoughts were anything but steady. How long has he been Spider-Man? Why didn’t he tell me? Questions swirled like a storm in your head, each one heavier than the last.

Wooyoung glanced down at you, concern etched into his face. “You’re shaking,” he murmured, stopping for a moment to steady you. “Y/N, you’ve been through hell tonight. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

You blinked at him, your lips parting as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, a tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, until you were trembling in his grasp.

“I-I don’t even know what to think,” you choked out finally, your voice barely a whisper. “He… he kept this from me. All this time. And I almost—” Your words broke off as a sob escaped your lips.

Wooyoung’s grip tightened, his expression softening as he pulled you into a hug. “I know,” he said quietly, his voice steady and calm. “I know it feels like the world just got turned upside down. And I can’t pretend to know how you feel, but I’m here. Okay? You’re not alone in this.”

You clung to him, burying your face in his shoulder as you let the tears fall. The dam had broken, and everything you’d been holding in—fear, anger, betrayal, confusion—spilled out in messy waves.

#san x reader angst #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #angst #ateez #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #spiderman au #spiderman x ateez #ateex x yn

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alkalineapparition · 2 days ago

Text

Jaws

Simon Ghost Riley x Hybrid!Reader|Full Chapter

Part 12– Basking in the solace of regret

"RIPPER, NO!"

This is the moment that will stay with Simon for the rest of his life. Someday, when he's watching his mistakes play in frantic strokes of color on the canvas of his eyelids, this is what will haunt him most.

You, for all your ferocity, gift him one last look. Soft, apologetic. No intention of heeding his command. When he reaches for the handle on the back of your vest, you slip through his fingers like water. Gone.

Just. Like. That.

You'd both been pinned for a while now. The others were farther behind, providing rear security so you could retrieve what they came for. They hadn't known, couldn't see past the smoke clouding your positions. And he hadn't had the time to tell them, between returning fire and holding position, before a close call shot his comms to shit. He hadn't had the time...

He should have made the time.

And now there would never be more time. The clock had stuck twelve, the hour glass run out of sand.

Because you had decided your life mattered less than his. Mattered less than the mission. Goddammit.

He no can no longer see you, he's lost sight and all he can think is how he'd rather become dust and smoke himself than come home without you.

Leaning back against the small outcrop of rocks you'd been taking cover behind, his eyes close. Then, he does something he hasn't done since he was a child.

He prays.

He prays to the bastard that's never bothered giving an answer before. Teeth gritting down to the nub, he wills the asshole to hear him.

Bring her back to me.

In this moment, Ghost hates himself. He's never been more useless—he can't just charge in after you, the lack of vision would make it suicide. Perhaps you'd been able to see what he couldn't. But then why did you go alone, if not to save him from whatever it is you saw? If he got up and charged after you now, would he find you grinning in triumph, or be faced with a wall of enemy soldiers riddling his body with bullets?

Some fucking leuitenant, huh?

As if he could summon you by mere thought, his mind drifts, one final goodbye.

—

You stand before him, head cocked, mouth curled in mischief. His skullplate sits on the desk after having gone missing for a few days (during which you swear you haven't seen it, of course not Lt!), now doodled with little pink ghosts. "Y' little shit." His hand snaps foward to snatch your collar, but you duck, snickering as you make for the door. [It washes off Lt! No, please! Uncle, uncle!]

—

[Ghost.]

"Hm?"

[Why do you wear the mask?]

He looks up, watching your face as you gnaw your lip. His tug up in a smirk. "To hide my face."

[Are you ugly?] The bluntness of your question almost makes him laugh. [It's alright if you are.] Sweet girl.

"Quite the opposite, love."

Something in his stomach flips at the sight of your face going red.

[Oh.]

He can't resist. "No' as pretty as yours, mind you."

You sputter as expected, and he does laugh.

[What do you look like?]

He pretends to think it over.

"Got a tattoo of the queens arse on m' left cheek," he says solemnly.

You choke, eyeing him and his inked arms speculatively before deciding he's full of shit.

He lets you believe what you will.

—

The dove-grey light of Sunday mornings filters through the blinds. Your eyes are filled with tears, body trembling with the force of your sobs. Simon wraps his arms around you, cheek pressed to your hair.

[I don't even have a name. I am nothing, it's like I don't exist.] He closes his eyes, searching for the words that will soothe this ache.

"Your name's Ripper. Ya ain't nothin', either. You're our best girl." It's the best he can do, offer placations, even if they are true. He hates that he can't do more.

[That's a not a name, Ghost, it's a callsign! I don't... I don't even know what my mother named me.] You're still for a few moments. [I... don't know if I have a mother.] Simon rattles his brain for a way to make this right, something that can be a salve to your pain.

"How about... I give ya a real name? Somethin' other than what that bloody scot came up with." He doesn't think this will be enough, it's a stupid idea–

[What... would you name me?] Your eyes are on him, curiosity shining through the tears. Seems it was enough to distract you, for now atleast.

Humming, he contemplates. "I'll find somethin' that fits. Wait for inspiration an' all that."

[How will you know it's right?]

"I'll know, Rips. Promise."

—

Simon never did pick out that name.

He wonders what they'll put on your headstone.

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hrtwayne · 1 day ago

Text

My Girl Only Breaks Her Favorite Toys || Alexia Putellas

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Lionesses Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Where sometimes a breakup wasn't just about a lack of trust, but rather the constant breaking of promises.

Note: Chapter inspired by My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys by Taylor Swift! (English is not my first language!)

Warning: Mention of Neglect and Possible Angst!

Women's Football Masterlist | Masterlist

The silence in the apartment had never felt so deafening.

Y/n dropped her suitcase by the door, feeling the tension weigh down on her shoulders. The familiar scent of Alexia—a soft mix of lavender and something that always reminded her of home—was gone. No jackets carelessly thrown over the couch, no cleats resting by the entrance, no sign that this was still a home shared by two people.

Maybe, deep down, it wasn’t anymore.

She let out a long sigh, running her hands over her face. She had played for the English national team that night, crossed the continent to come home, only to be met with the same emptiness as always. Alexia wasn’t there. Again.

For the thousandth time, Y/n tried to convince herself that their schedules were demanding, that sometimes missing each other was inevitable. But the truth was, when something matters, you find a way. And she always had. Alexia, on the other hand, seemed less and less willing to do the same.

She opened the fridge, already knowing what she would find. Nothing fresh, nothing new. The coffee she had made before leaving was still untouched in the corner, and the water bottles Alexia always drank from were in the exact same spot. She hadn’t been home since Y/n had left.

The weight of that realization hit her all at once.

It was a story nearly two years in the making. A beautiful story of support, of genuine love. But it was also a story filled with broken promises, empty excuses, and absences that only grew more frequent.

And Y/n finally realized she didn’t want to live like this anymore.

The following days felt like a loop. Alexia came home late, left early. When they were together, silence spoke louder than words. Y/n had tried to talk, tried to make Alexia see what was happening between them, but every attempt ended in promises that never materialized.

So, on an ordinary morning, as she pulled on her training jersey, she picked up her phone and opened the email she had been avoiding for weeks.

The club that had shaped her career had made an offer. A good one. Going back home had never felt so right.

That night, when Alexia finally arrived, she found Y/n sitting on the couch, her suitcase packed beside her.

"We need to talk."

Alexia frowned, dropping her backpack to the floor before sitting down next to her.

"What’s wrong?"

Y/n took a deep breath.

"I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting for you to keep promises you’ll never keep."

"Y/n…"

"I love you, Alexia. But love isn’t enough when only one of us is trying."

Alexia opened her mouth to argue but closed it just as quickly. She knew. She had always known.

"You’re leaving?"

"Yes. My old team wants me back. And I want to go back."

The silence that followed was the heaviest of all.

Alexia finally let out a long sigh, shaking her head.

"I never wanted us to end like this."

Y/n smiledtired, resigned.

"Neither did I."

And deep down, they both knew there was nothing left to say.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #fem reader #gxg #imagine

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yawchi · 2 days ago

Text

DIFFERENT

sano manjiro x gn!reader

includes: best friend's brother mikey. slight alternate au.

notes: old fic reupload

To be completely honest, this wasn’t really how you expected to be spending your Friday night.

When Emma had called you in sheer panic, rambling so fast you’re pretty sure she could qualify as an auctioneer, asking if you’d seen her black heels because she was going out with Draken tonight and just had to wear those or the entire night was going to be a disaster and he would break up with her and— yeah .

Needless to say you grabbed the black heels from where she’d left them on your bedroom floor the last time she came over and hurried over to her apartment before she had a full blown conniption.

“Thanks again, babe. You are such a total life saver,” she’d smiled, tugging you into a quick hug before she slipped on the shoes in the doorway. Then she flicked her gaze over to the man standing beside you as she reached for the doorknob. “I won’t be coming back tonight, so don’t wait up on me.”

Mikey had made a cheeky remark at that, a teasing glint to his eye as he dodged the discarded slipper his sister threw at his head. Then Emma was gone and you were left standing in the apartment alone with him.

Which really would’ve been far more normal than whatever the hell you were doing now.

“Mikey, you said you were walking me home. This is not walking me home,” you hiss at him in an exasperated groan, glaring at the back of his head. You hope he can feel your gaze burning holes in his scalp.

Because, seriously, spying on his sister and best friend through the window of the restaurant they’ve chosen for their date? What is he, twelve ?

This is wrong on so many levels.

“Shh shh, you’re gonna make me miss the best part,” he hushes, waving a hand at you as he leans impossibly closer to the glass.

You gape at him, stunned he’s actually shushed you, as if he can even hear what they’re saying from inside. Not to mention you’re starting to feel the stares passerby’s are giving the two of you, and you’re sure it must be a sight—crouched down on the sidewalk peeking over the windowsill of a (kinda fancy, you must admit) restaurant, in hoodies no less because the first snow of the year is just around the corner.

Yeah, you’ve totally thought this through.

“What are you even talking about?” And you aren’t sure why you’re whispering really, because it’s not like your friends could hear you from where they’re seated in the restaurant, but it’s like you can’t help but copy Mikey’s tone.

“Oh.” Mikey freezes momentarily, grin on his face turning sheepish as he looks over his shoulder at you, biting the edge of his lip. “I was supposed to tell you last week. Guess I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” You ask, quirking a brow at his sudden change of demeanor.

He stares at you for a moment, gaze switching between your eyes, and that little nervous tell he has, him running his tongue over the corner of his mouth twice, is so prominent now. (And no, you don’t find it attractive, thank you very much). In all honesty, it makes you worry just a tad bit.

Because Mikey only gets nervous about two things: when he’s done something really really bad (like switching out Emma’s conditioner for black hair dye as a joke), or when he’s trying to keep a secret he can’t tell anyone.

“Uhm,” he pauses, just a moment, and turns his head back towards the glass to mumble, “Ken-chin is gonna propose to Emma.”

“ What ?!”

Your surprised yell, though you don’t register it right away with the way your focus is still trained on that of your best friend’s brother, was loud enough to catch the attention of a certain man inside the restaurant—the thin divider of glass not muffling it at all. You let out another smaller, clipped yelp as a hand grabs the back of your head and yanks it down.

Mikey has the both of you lowered just enough that your heads can’t be seen over the window sill, and it’s adorable, really, the hushed ‘ please don’t see us please don’t see us please don’t see us ’ that slips through his lips as he holds you there. You reach back to remove his hand from your head, holding a finger up to your lips as you ever so slowly peek back into the window.

A whoosh of breath rips out of your lungs when you see Draken and Emma back in their own little world, focused on each other once again.

Soon Mikey’s head pops right back up beside yours, and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the image of you two as little groundhogs popping their heads out of the ground. You’re beside him now, both of your hands on the little ledge as you peer in. You nudge him with your shoulder.

“When’s he gonna do it?” You’re whispering again, darting your eyes to Manjiro for just a second, so you don’t miss anything.

It’s ironic how five minutes ago you were mentally berating him for his little stalking game, but now you’re just as immersed as he is.

“Right before dessert.”

And Mikey’s beaming, eyes wide and sparkling, happiness quite literally radiating off of him. He’s excited, you can tell, and it makes your heart tug at the simple sweetness of it. Because of course he enjoys this, he loves Emma and he loves Draken, and seeing them happy makes him happy. He’s a good guy, though no matter how much you seem to forget. This is just a reminder of that.

You’re caught up in your staring—at the wrong sano you should be, given the situation you’re in—which is the only reason you notice how Mikey’s eyes widen and suddenly there’s a hand yanking the back of your head down again. Except this time, it doesn’t go as smoothly, and Mikey slams his own forehead on the side of the brick as he goes to duck down.

“Oh my god, are you—“ but your question is cut off by Mikey’s palm pressing to your mouth.

“Shh, shh, shit —“

A bell jingles behind you, the sound of the door of the restaurant opening, and the hand on the back of your head grapples for your palm, tugging you up and down the sidewalk at a speed that nearly has you tripping over yourself. Just before you round the corner you’re able to glance over your shoulder and see what Mikey is so freaked about.

And there, in the doorway of the fancy restaurant is Draken, a knowing and annoyed look etched in his face as he takes a step forward, as if to follow the two of you.

You force yourself to speed up immediately and attempt to match Mikey’s pace because an irritated Draken is a deadly Draken and dying in your old ratted hoodie is most certainly not how you planned to go.

The two of you keep running down the streets, feet splashing in stray puddles and weaving through the sea of strangers. And all the while, Mikey doesn’t let go of your hand, leading you through the twists and turns and squeezing tighter when he feels the two of you start to separate. Until finally, he passes an alleyway and abruptly stops, nearly giving you whiplash from how fast you’re jerked back and suddenly slamming into his chest, forcing his back up against the cold, concrete wall.

“ Ow ..” He mumbles as the back of his head hits it, and the second the two of you make eye contact, laughs bubble out of your lips.

It’s odd—in an easy, overwhelmingly comfortable sense—how neither of you seem to care how close you are, even as the laughter dies down. It’s thoughtless as your hands rest on his chest and his slip to the small of your back like he feels the need to steady you. It’s natural, breathing in each other like you’ve always shared the same air, always occupied this same compact space.

There’s another six feet width of an alleyway to back up to, and yet neither of you make the move to separate at all.

The laughter stops, but the racing of your heart doesn’t. Your oxygen feels low, but you can’t tell whether it’s from the running anymore. Your cheeks are hot, but you’re not so sure it’s from your little bout of exertion. Your chest hammers, but you don’t think the adrenaline is to blame.

You blink to try to clear your thoughts, to try to snap yourself out of the trance that’s going on between you and Mikey, the captivating eye contact that threatens to keep you enthralled forever. In doing so, something catches your eye, and a small gasp slips out of you.

“Your head. It’s bleeding.” You raise your thumb up to it, swiping at it and gritting your teeth as you hear Mikey wince at the pressure. “Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

“What? No, I'm fine,” he huffs, furrowing his brows, but you’ve known him long enough that you can register the panic behind those dark irises in a millisecond.

“A grown man and you’re still afraid of doctors,” you tease, swiping at the small gash on his head again to collect the new drop of blood.

“I’m not scared ,” he instantly interjects, pouting, pursing his lips out as he stares down at you.

“Great, then you won’t have any problem going to get checked for a concussion.” And it’s evil, the way you step back as if you’re actually about to lead him to a hellhole of a hospital. It takes everything in you not to grin as a hand shoots out to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Can’t you just take care of it.” It’s quiet, as he says it, like he’s embarrassed to even ask. Which is silly, you think, since you and Emma have been doctoring up him and Draken since you were kids. They should be used to asking for help by now, especially Mikey.

Always Mikey , your mind supplies, and you mentally curse yourself for such a thought.

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling at him reassuringly, blowing a short laugh through your nose as you watch his shoulders sag in relief. You pull your wrist out of his hand only to slip your own palm into it, closing around his and giving a gentle tug. “Let’s go.”

And that’s how you find yourself in your apartment bathroom, Mikey on your toilet with your fingers gripping his chin, telling him to sit still or it’ll just burn worse as you swipe alcohol over his cut.

“It hurts ,” he grits, knuckles white on the toilet ceramic as he glares up at you.

“That’s because you won’t stop moving ,” you hiss right back, gripping his chin tighter between your fingers. You could’ve had this done ten minutes ago if he would stop acting like such a brat. “Geez, Haruchiyo never complains this much.”

It’s weird, the way Mikey freezes in place, the fight leaving him entirely even as you swipe the alcohol pad over his cut one last time. He blinks up at you, like he’s completely baffled by your admittance.

“You do this for Sanzu?”

Your brows knit together slightly as you drop the used pad onto the counter and reach for the gauze. “I mean, yeah? Sometimes? He does those underground fights you know and he can’t really go to the hospital for those. See, he actually has a valid reason.”

And you’re laughing, trying to lighten the sudden shift of the mood, but Mikey’s face has turned serious. His jaw set like it does when someone’s seriously pissed him off, or back when he used to beat people up in high school for hitting on you and Emma. The aura in the room has flipped, and your fingers are slow as they apply the bandage to the blond’s forehead.

“I didn’t realize you were that close.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re close ,” you dismiss, smoothing your fingertips over the gauze gently before stepping back to start putting everything away in the first aid kit again. “He just comes over when he needs help is all. We’re friends.”

“Are we friends?” Mikey asks, standing up from the toilet lid and taking a step forward. He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating from him, his gaze burning into the side of your head.

“Uhm, yeah? I’d like to think we are. I mean, you’re my best friend’s brother and I've known you since we were kids, so.” A nervous chuckle comes from your chest and you hate that his proximity does this to you. Because he is your best friend’s brother. Thoughts like this are wrong on so many levels. Even more wrong than spying earlier at the restaurant.

You kind of want to shrivel in on yourself, just a little bit.

Cool fingertips trace under your jaw, drifting down your neck before skimming back up to your cheek. Then they push, turn your head towards Mikey without a choice, like he knew you were trying to avoid eye contact. Though you suppose as long as you’ve known each other, he probably can map out every little tell of yours by now.

Your mouth is dry as you hold eye contact with him, and you come to the stark realization that this is nothing like the moment the two of you shared in that alleyway. This one’s intimate, yes, but it’s different, somehow. Mikey’s thumb brushes against your cheekbone, rubs circles into the apple of it, as he stares at you like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Hey,” he says, finally, after what feels like hours of your heart trying to climb out of your throat, “I ended up walking you home after all.”

Then, that smile is back, curling the edges of Mikey’s lips and carving a dimple into his left cheek. That smile has ruined you—for anyone else, yourself , it doesn’t matter. It’s addicting, and contagious, so the upturn of your own lips is practically a given right after.

“I guess you did,” you grin, turning yourself to fully face him. “But you still owe me for fixing up your whiny ass.”

“Well what can I do to repay you, then?” His smile turns cheeky at the question, the gleam in his eyes mischievous as he leans down, close enough you can almost feel your noses touch. Close enough you can see the faint freckles beside his eyes, along the rise of his cheekbones.

“Uhm,” you choke, bite your cheek as you try to keep your eyes anywhere but Mikey’s lips. This isn’t fair, at all, and you hate the way your hands instinctively reach forward to grab the front of his shirt.

“Hm? What’s wrong? Delinquent got your tongue?” If it were any other moment you would smack him, roll your eyes and tell him to shut the fuck up before you beat his ass.

But now, all you can do is swallow, take a shaky breath, and give in to the way your gaze falls to Mikey’s mouth.

It’s on yours a second later, like that was the only signal he needed.

Kissing Mikey is.. Different. He’s good, incredibly so—which should be a damn sin—but it feels forbidden almost. You’ve had kisses before, of course, but none like this. None in your apartment bathroom with your hands tangled in your best friend’s brother’s hair as he tugs you ever closer by the waist while also pressing you against the bathroom counter. Yet the whole time it doesn’t feel rushed or needy or wrong. It feels nice, and sweet, and soothing like putting lip balm over chapped lips. And Mikey, he’s just so gentle .

Because even as he grips your hips, his fingertips are rubbing soft circles into them. Even as he presses his mouth hard against yours, he moves it slowly so as not to be too harsh. Even as he lifts a hand to force your head back further, he traces over the nape of your neck so serenely. It’s a push and a pull and gentle and unruly. He squeezes your hip as he pulls away, but pecks your lips so sweetly that it has you dizzy.

You hate to admit you’re slightly out of it as he leans back, just a few inches, enough to actually look at you. He swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at it then to your eyes as a smirk twists up his mouth.

“Bet Sanzu never paid you back like that.”

This time you do smack him, swatting at his chest as you shake your head with a laugh, attempting to catch the breath he just stole from your lungs.

“No, never,” you admit, hands cupping the back of Mikey’s neck, staring up at him, admiring him freely for the first time in your life. No fear of getting caught.

Well.

“Oh my god, Emma,” you mutter, smile instantly dropping, a hand coming to your mouth at the realization. “If she finds out—“

“ If ,” Mikey accentuates, cutting you off and pulling your hand away. “Who says she’ll ever know?”

“So, what, you plan on just sneaking around behind both of our best friends’ backs? Because you know we’ll have to hide it from Draken too. He’ll tell her.”

Mikey hums, looks up a minute like he’s actually deep in thought, then turns his attention back to you as he leans in again.

“Why not? Sounds kinda fun to me.”

You don’t get another chance to protest before his mouth is slotting against yours once more, stealing your words, your breath, and your heart all in one go. You’d like to say you hate this, hate Mikey, even just a little bit—but you can’t. He might’ve just roped you into the biggest, most stressful scheme of your life, and you still don’t have any complaints.

If. If is good.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

#yawchi writing #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev x reader #mikey sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader

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nameless-jamie · 12 hours ago

Text

NOT LIKE HIM

Glimpse Into the Future - Jamie Tartt x fem!PA reader

Masterlist

TW: cursing, angst, crying

Y/N woke up to an empty bed.

At first, in the haze of half-sleep, she thought maybe Jamie had just shifted in his sleep, rolling away from her like he sometimes did when he got too warm. But when she reached out, her fingers met nothing but the cool emptiness of the sheets, the space beside her void of his warmth. She frowned, blinking blearily at the clock on the bedside table—3:27 AM—before sitting up and rubbing at her tired eyes.

It wasn’t unusual for Jamie to get up in the middle of the night. He had bouts of restlessness, times when sleep didn’t come easy to him. Sometimes, he’d go downstairs and watch old match replays with the volume barely above a whisper, analyzing every movement, every play, because his mind never truly shut off when it came to football. Other nights, he’d be stretching in the living room, claiming he needed to “stay loose” at all times, even at ungodly hours of the night.

But something about tonight felt different.

There was no sound coming from the TV. No soft grunts of effort from Jamie pushing himself into a stretch that most normal people wouldn’t attempt at this hour. No quiet rustling in the kitchen, no faint hum of a late-night snack being made. Instead, the house was eerily still, a suffocating sort of silence wrapping around her.

Then, she heard it.

A noise so faint she almost missed it—a quiet, choked breath, like someone was desperately trying to keep themselves together and failing.

Her stomach twisted.

Kicking off the covers, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, pulling Jamie’s hoodie over her head before padding out of the room. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet as she moved down the hallway, following the barely-there sound like a thread pulling her forward.

When she reached the staircase, she spotted the faint glow of the living room lamp, its dim light barely spilling into the hallway.

And then she saw him.

Jamie was sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the couch, his knees drawn up, arms resting limply over them. His head was bowed, his hands clenched into the fabric of his sweats, his entire body curled inward like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. His shoulders trembled with each ragged breath he took, and when she stepped closer, she saw the way his jaw was clenched, like he was fighting a losing battle to keep it all in.

Her heart ached at the sight of him like this.

"Jamie?"

The moment the word left her lips, Jamie stiffened.

For a long second, he didn’t move, like he was debating whether or not to acknowledge her. Then, slowly, he swiped at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, as if he could erase the evidence of whatever storm had overtaken him before looking up at her. His eyes were red-rimmed, lashes wet, and the vulnerability on his face was so raw that it made her chest tighten.

"Hey, love," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion. "Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you."

Y/N frowned, stepping closer. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," Jamie said quickly, sitting up straighter, shoulders pulling back. "Just couldn’t sleep, that’s all. Go back to bed, yeah? You need your rest."

That was when she realized—he wasn’t just trying to be strong for himself.

He was trying to be strong for her.

For their baby.

Her heart clenched at the thought.

"Jamie," she said softly, sitting beside him. "You don’t have to do this."

"Do what?" he asked, still holding onto that fragile mask.

"Act like you’re fine when you’re not," she murmured. "Not with me."

Jamie exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "Babe, I just—look, I don’t wanna stress you out, alright? You should be restin’, not worryin’ about—"

Y/N didn’t let him finish.

She reached out, gently pressing her hand to his arm, her touch warm and steady. The second her fingers made contact, Jamie inhaled sharply, his whole body stiffening.

And then, just like that—

He broke.

A choked sound escaped him, and before she could say anything else, he was burying his face in his hands, his breath coming out in harsh, uneven gasps. His whole frame shook as he tried—and failed—to keep it together, and without hesitation, Y/N shifted closer, wrapping her arms around him.

That was all it took.

Jamie collapsed against her, his hands fisting the fabric of her hoodie, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. A strangled sob escaped him, muffled against her shoulder.

She held him tighter.

"I—" He cut himself off, swallowed hard, then tried again. "I’m scared."

She frowned. "Scared of what?"

His jaw tightened, his grip on her hand growing just a little stronger.

"I—I don’t wanna be like him," Jamie choked out, voice thick with emotion. "I don’t—I can’t—"

Y/N’s heart ached.

She didn’t have to ask who he meant. He was talking about his dad...

She just ran her fingers through his hair, soft and slow, grounding him. "Jamie, listen to me," she whispered. "You are nothing like him."

Jamie shook his head against her shoulder. "You don’t know that," he rasped. "I’ve got his fuckin’ blood in me, Y/N. What if—what if I end up like him? What if I—" His voice cracked. "What if I mess this up?"

Y/N pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands, tilting it up so he had no choice but to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with so much fear and self-doubt that it made her chest tighten.

"You won’t," she said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the dampness on his cheeks. "Jamie, you are good. And you try so hard. You are not him. I know because I see you, Jamie. Every single day. I see the way you love, the way you care about people. You are kind and thoughtful and so fucking perfect. And you try—every damn day—to be better than what he taught you. That’s who you are."

Jamie swallowed hard, his breath still shaky. "But what if—"

"You won’t," she cut him off, pressing her forehead against his. "Because you choose to be different. Every single day, you choose to be better than what he was. You’re already better than him, Jamie."

Jamie let out a ragged breath, his grip on her hoodie loosening just slightly.

Y/N softened, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against his skin.

"You think I’d have fallen in love with someone like him?" she murmured.

That made Jamie pause.

He let out a shaky, broken laugh, one that still had the remnants of his tears in it. "Dunno," he mumbled. "You are a bit of a bad boy magnet."

Y/N smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. "Yeah, but only the reformed ones."

Jamie huffed, but his body had started to relax, the worst of the storm passing.

Y/N brushed his hair back, her touch gentle. "Come back to bed, we miss you?"

Jamie hesitated, glancing at her stomach, at the tiny life growing inside her. Then, slowly, he nodded.

She led him upstairs, her hand in his, fingers laced together. When they reached the bed, Jamie curled around her, one hand resting over her stomach, his touch tentative but reverent.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice hoarse from crying.

Y/N smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you too," she whispered.

And Jamie, safe in her arms, let himself believe it.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso show #afc richmond #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #roy kent #PA x Jamie Tartt

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crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

Text

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Ten

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

With a quick snap, I lit the old fireplace and felt the warmth spread across my legs. The orange glow lit up the old home as I walked through. It was now empty, being left abandoned the last 80 years. It looked completely different when I was here a few hours ago but I couldn’t stop thinking of ways that I could fix up the holes in the walls and the missing floor boards.

The master bedroom and bathroom were what needed the most work and a slight fear of what I had gotten myself into creeped into my bones; a giant hole was directly in the middle of the floor.

“So this is what you wired the money for?”

Looking to the front doorway, I sighed when I saw Steve leaning against the doorframe.

“You followed me?”

He pushed himself off the frame, his large feet walking inside the old house. “It’s exactly like I remembered.”

“What are the odds you know your way with a hammer?” I somewhat joked.

Steve laughed. “Not at all. That’s Bucky’s forte.”

I stuffed my hands deep into the pockets of my coat while Steve stood next to me as we both watched the fire dance.

“I can’t believe you bought Bucky’s childhood home,” Steve spoke after moments of silence.

“He deserves something good when he comes back,” I stated.

Steve looked over to me with a confused stare. “He has you.”

I shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of bad things the last five years and I don’t think Bucky could accept it.”

“You’re talking about The Winter Soldier,” Steve reminded me, bumping my shoulder with his own.

I looked around the run down house with a large sigh, knowing that there was going to be no way that I could get it fixed up in time. I wanted to surprise Bucky when the fight was over with his old home being fixed back to its former glory. He deserved a home to grow old in.

“Yikes, what are you two doing hanging out in this dump?”

Turning on my heels, I smiled at Natasha as she slowly maneuvered her way inside over the holes.

“Hey, this is my dump you’re shitting on,” I defended. “What are you doing here?”

She held up a bag of food. “Figured you two were hungry.”

We all sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, eating and laughing about old memories of us working together; before everything changed. I missed the way our banter bounced off each other, Nat and I giving Steve a hard time for how old he was.

“I missed this,” Natasha admitted.

“Me too,” I smiled. “I hope that after everything, we all can retire and enjoy the life we have left.”

“Soon this house will be filled with Bucky Jr’s running around,” Natasha winked at me.

I tensed up at the mention of kids and noticing the uncomfortable look on my face, he motioned towards the door.

“We should head back.” Steve helped me to my feet, giving my hand a squeeze.

He knew that I had reverted back to the dark hole with the mention of kids. I hadn’t coped with the loss of our kid, not wanting to come to terms that I could actually have a little Bucky Jr here with me right now.

Steve wrapped an arm around my shoulders leading me back to the Avengers Compound.

With a soft sigh, I turned over in bed, staring out the large windows. I could see the sun beginning to rise over the treeline, indicating that I hadn’t slept at all after returning back. Thoughts of the life I could have in this moment kept me awake.

How could I tell Bucky that we should have had a kid by now?

For a fast moment, I thought of not telling him, to spare him the pain of knowing that we lost a child in the snap. I hated, however, keeping secrets from him. He deserved to know the truth, about everything that happened the last five years.

Right?

With a loud groan, I tossed off the covers and forced myself to take a shower knowing that today was the day; the day that we would all go back in time to retrieve the infinity stones. I knew that it would work but there was a lingering fear that we wouldn’t get what we wanted without a price. It had always been like that for us, the Avengers. One of us always paid the price for our actions, one way or another.

Once dressed, I made my way down the elevator to the common area of the tower, where everyone else was waiting for my presence.

Nat, Clint, Rhodey, and Nebula were sitting at the large table watching as Bruce and Scott went over every detail about going back in time to them.

Tony and Thor were standing in front of the monitors with Carol, figuring out exactly where we needed to go to get the infinity stones.

And finally, Steve was sitting by himself in a chair on the other side of the room with a low scowl on his face. I had seen that same scowl many times in the past and it only ever meant one thing. Something heavy was on his mind.

“Someone’s in a cranky mood for it being so early in the day.” I joked as I sat in the other chair across from him.

The sight of me brought a smile to his face.

“Just thinking.” He stated.

“About what?”

I could see the hesitation on his face, knowing that he wasn’t sure if he should actually tell me what he was thinking.

“If this doesn't work, I don’t think I could take the feeling of failure from everyone; especially you. I don’t know what I would do if you hate me because I couldn’t bring Buck back for you,” Steve admitted with a sigh.

“Hey,” I spoke while lacing our fingers together, “I could never hate you, Steve. And this is going to work because it has to. We need to bring them all back, not only for me, but for all of us.”

I could see in his sad eyes that he still didn’t believe what I was saying so I gently leaned close to him, letting a soft kiss linger on his cheek for a brief second. Turning to look into my own eyes, we were meters apart and I felt his warm breath fan across my lips.

“I love you too much to ever hate you, Steve.” I muttered my admittance.

It was brief but I saw the way his eyes darted from my own down towards my lips, slowly licking his own. I couldn’t stop myself from slowly leaning closer to him.

Dorogaya.

“Hey lovebirds, if you’re done staring lovingly into each other's eyes we can start the meeting now.”

We both sat back from one another, my glance now on Tony.

“What’s the plan?” I coughed, hoping that would hide the arousal and redness of my cheeks for what almost happened.

As Tony went over the teams and who was going where, I felt Steve’s eyes on me the entire time. Daring a glance over to him, my heart hammered in my chest when I saw the look of desire in his face.

I shifted in my seat once I heard my name being called.

“Jesus Tony, you’re making me feel like I’m in school again,” I said while crossing my arms.

“Well if you weren’t giving googly eyes to Rogers, you would have heard what I was saying and I wouldn't have to yell at you,” Tony stated.

All these years had passed since we fought together in New York and I still hated how much of an ass he was.

“You, Banner, Lang, and Steve are going back to New York in 2012 to retrieve the time, mind, and space stone. Thor and the badger are going back to 2013 Asgard to get the reality stone.”

“I’m a racoon,” Rocket interjected.

“Same thing,” I waved him off. “Rhodey and Nebula are going to hitch a ride with Natasha and I to Morag to get the Power Stone while Nat and I go to Vomir for the soul stone.”

Once finished, I smiled smugly at Tony, knowing that I in fact was listening to him go over the plan while staring at Steve.

Steve said back in his chair, mirroring his own smug smile, before looking at Tony.

“Anything else, Mr. Stark?” He joked.

Tony let out a deep breath while pinching his eyes. “Let’s get suited up then.”

Before we all left the room, I gave Steve a quick wink and followed Natasha to her living quarters so we could get suited up together.

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