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pandorxxx · 2 years ago

Text

To-do list

Neteyam (19) x Omatikayan fem reader (19)

[he is so goddamn fine, I am FROTHING over this picture]

Warnings: SMUT THE HOUSE, oral, neck grabbing, fingering, p in v, squirting, cursing.

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

For the best reading experience, listen to #icanteven by The Neighborhood (ft. French Montana)

You loved your Na’to; he was sweet, kind, protective, caring. Everything about him was perfect. You two had been dating for around 5 months, and it was normal for you two to have mated already. However, you just weren’t ready yet. You didn’t really know if you wanted to commit to him for life yet, and he was on the same page. You two were just having fun, and it made you happy. Although you two hadn’t mated officially, you would give in to his lustful advances from time to time. The sex was…good, but it wasn’t great.

When you two started getting alittle more serious, he introduced you to his friends. Among them were none other than Neteyam, the future olo’eytkan. You couldn’t deny that you were slightly attracted, but was it a crime? You would never cheat on your boyfriend, but you would think about it here and there. You’d think about Neteyam specifically, and how it would be to feel him, really feel him. Would he be better than your boyfriend? Hold you better? fuck you better?

“Y/n? You ok, baby?” Na’to asked, waving his hand infront of your face, as you sat on his lap. You scanned your surroundings briefly, noticing where you were and who you were with. Neteyam sat across the room, conversating with Na’to as laid against his chest.

“Umm yeah, I’m fine.” You smile loosely, turning your head to kiss Na’to. You turned back around to a straight faced Neteyam, no emotion as he glared at you. You glanced away softly, feeling super uncomfortable. Neteyam was always staring at you in strange ways. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was eye fucking you. However, you did know better, and Neteyam would never do that to his best friend. Or so you thought.

Neteyam wanted you since the moment he saw you. It was love at first sight for him, but Na’to got to you first. Neteyam envied Na’to because he got what he wanted, and was flaunting it in Neteyam’s face every chance he got.

“Stop looking at my woman like you want to eat her alive!” Na’to said jokingly, holding your waist tighter.

Neteyam laughed sarcastically, waving him off.

“Ahh, no way! She’s all yours.” Neteyam replied sarcastically, sitting back on the wall, as he glared at you once more. Na’to laughed before tapping your leg, signaling for you to get up.

“Whatever, I have to go train the children. I’ll be back later, baby.” He stood, towering over your small frame as he bent down to engage in a passionate kiss. Neteyam was furious, he felt like Na’to was trying to get under his skin.

Na’to pulled away, eyeing you up and down as he backed up towards the door. He turned to Neteyam, shooting him a grin before walking out completely.

“So, what do you have to do today?” You asked Neteyam innocently, taking a seat on your cot. He said nothing, just staring at you intensely. You were growing confused as your eyebrows scrunched up.

“Umm, Neteyam?” You asked, tilting your head at him as you watched him stand up.

“I didnt have much to do, until now.” he spoke, shutting the hut door. He turned around, leaning onto the door with his arms crossed.

“I am not understanding.” You shook your head in confusion, waiting for him to explain.

“You’re number one on my to-do list.” He licked his lips as he stared into your soul. Your heart stopped for a moment, as beads of sweat formed on your forehead. Your entire body started tingling, as you watched him walk closer to you.

“Neteyam, I am to be mated with Na’to.” You stated calmly. He finally got to you, putting his fists into the cot beneath you, now face to face.

“I simply do not care. I’ve wanted you for a long time, and I always get what I want. I know Na’to is not what you need, I AM what you need.” He explained, glancing at your lips, trailing back up to your eyes.

“Neteyam, this is not right. I love Na’to, I will not betray him!” You spat, growing frustrated with his games. He chuckled before pushing you back on the cot. He hovered over you, bending down until his nose what touching yours.

“If you love him so much, why are you two not mated yet? Hmm?” He asked, holding your neck softly. You didn’t have an answer for him. Not an answer that would be in your favor, anyway. You really didn’t know if you wanted to be with Na’to for a lifetime.

“We are waiting. It is not time yet!” You replied breathlessly, trying your best not to melt under his warm touch. He smiled before bending down to your ear.

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t want to wait. I can make you feel so good, y/n.” He whispered, kissing your neck. You automatically threw your head back, in turn pushing your chest to his. You slid your hand down to his abdomen, trying to push him off of you. He grabbed your hand, pinning it to the cot underneath you.

“I know you want this. If you don’t want anything to do with me afterwards, then i will leave you alone. But I have a feeling, that you’ll be begging for more after I’m done.” He whispered, backing up to get a good look at your body. He flipped you on your stomach, sliding your loincloth down with his teeth. He started at your ankles, kissing them hungrily as he slid all the way up to your ass. He kissed it before gnawing at it ever so gently. He trailed his hand down to your heat, massaging the slit.

“N-Neteyam, w-we can’t.” You moan trying to pull up from his grasp, but the pleasure was consuming you.

“Your body is telling me something else, princess.” He smirked, sliding 2 fingers into your soaked cunt. You felt instant pleasure as he twirled his fingers inside of you. You threw your face down into the cot, moaning softly.

“Yes I know, princess. Let it out for me.” He growled, leaving hickeys on your ass. You arched your back, lifting your hips as your head still laid on the cot. This position had your soaking wet cunt in his face. He licked his lips, ready to attack before speaking.

“Did you still want me to stop?” He asked sarcastically, kissing your clit. The friction sent you over the edge as you pushed your cunt to his mouth. He immediately went to work on you. Flicking your clit, and sucking all of your juices up.

“Yesss, don’t stop!” You moaned, holding yourself up with your hands. He made it sloppy for you. Spit flowing down his chin as he lapped up your essence.

“Does Na’to do this for you?” He mumbled into your cunt, vibrating your entire body. Your legs twitched, almost giving out on you.

“Fuck, nooo.” You whined, gripping the cot as you shut your eyes tightly. He spread your lips apart, trying to give your clit some more attention. He flicked it fast with his tongue, making you convulse as you felt your high approaching you.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” You screamed, as your juices flowed all over his tongue. He sucked them up greedily, wiping his mouth. He came up, hovering over you.

“How bad do you want it?” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

“I want it so bad, neteyam!” You whinned, pushing your hips into his groin. He bit his lip as you dry humped him, trying desperately to find some friction. He held your hips steady for a moment.

“As much as I like you in this position, I want to see your beautiful face.” He chuckled, flipping you over on your back. You grinned, now flipping him over on his back, straddling his lap. He bit his lip, laying his hands behind his head.

“You know what to do, right?” He asked, glaring up at you. You titled your head, as you untied his loincloth. His throbbing cock sprung out, hitting the bottom of your breast. You glared at him through your eyebrows, before looking down again.

“Is it too much for you?” He teased, shifting his hips underneath you. In one swift movement, you rose up, and plunged down onto him.

“Goddamn!” He grunted, balling his face up in pleasure. You leaned down to him, pecking his lips gently.

“Is it too much for you?” You moaned, bouncing slowly while maintaining eye contact. He gripped your hips thrusting into you hard and deep. You grabbed hold of his shoulders as you felt the knot building in your stomach.

“Don’t test me, y/n.” He growled before flipping you over again. He grabbed your neck, using it as leverage to thrust into you nice and slow. You became more and more sensitive with every stroke, deeming the pleasure unbearable.

“Neteyam! too deep, too deep!” You screamed tapping his wrists, but he wasn’t trying to hear it.

“I have wanted you for so long, and now that I’ve got you…” he pulled you up to him by your neck.

“I’m not letting up…” he growled, thrusting into you faster. You squealed, shutting your eyes tightly.

“I know baby.” He moaned kissing your forehead. He leaned back, admiring your flushed face.

“I know you’ve been wanting me, too. Well, you got me baby, take all of me!” He muttered in your ear, sending you spiraling. Your moans got caught in your throat as your jaw dropped. He looked you in your eyes before he kissed your bottom lip. The room was silent, minus the sounds of skin clapping. The pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even talk.

“You can do it, princess. I got you.” He whispered into your lips. You shook your head no, and he nodded, communicating to you that you could. You were in a euphoric sense of pleasure, nothing could compare this feeling, not even Na’to.

“Na’to could never make you feel like this.” He moaned, kissing your neck. You finally came to, gasping for air. You held him tightly, scratching his back as you felt your high approaching. He rolled his hips slowly, massaging your sweetspot just right.

“Neteyam, I-i can’t hold it!” You cried as your legs started to shake under him.

“Are you going to break up with that skxawng!?” He grunted, slapping your face lightly. You nodded frantically.

“Who’s making your legs shake like this? Huh?” He asked, gripping your neck as he looked deep into your eyes.

“YOU! pleaseeee let me cum!” You whined, tears streaming down your face as you gripped his arm tightly.

“That’s right! Say my name!” He shouted, going deeper with each stroke. You couldn’t hold it any longer, so you finally gave in.

“Neteyammm!!! I’m cumming!!” And with that, your entire body spasmed as you squirted all over his lower abdomen. The scene underneath him made him lose it.

“Ohh fuck!” He grunted, bottom lip between his teeth as he let loose. His seed filling you up just right. You sat up, watching his cock twitch inside of you.

“Mhmmm…” you hummed, glancing up at him as he was already glaring back at you. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, still emptying himself inside of you. He pulled back, admiring your gorgeous face.

“Can I be at the top of your to-do list more often?” You joked breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath. He chuckled, grabbing your neck to peck your lips.

“You’re always top priority, princess.”

Ummm, y’all forced me to write this [I literally enjoyed it so much😈] and I don’t condone this type of behavior🤦🏾‍♀️. As alwaysss, I love y’all to death, and I’ll see y’all soon❤️🫶🏽!!!

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

Outtie ❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam headcanons #neteyam smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam

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inkykeiji · 1 year ago

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Possessive yandere koko would fuck you SO GOOD sgoooooood ahhhh i cannot

HE SOOOOOOO WOULD ANON, HE SO WOULD!!!

character: kokonoi hajime x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour + toxic relationship, daddy kink, rough sex, markings, implied overstimulation + multiple orgasms words: 743

possessive yandere koko is sweeter than sugar, so sweet he rots your teeth from your skull, so sweet he spoils you rotten, straight to the fucking core. possessive yandere koko is soft, gets all melty in your presence as he tends to your every wish and whim and will—he just wants you to have the very best, always, no matter the circumstances, he promises. possessive yandere koko is strict and stern when you don’t fucking listen, when you fail to comply with all of the ‘suggestions’ and ‘propositions’ and ‘advice’ he so graciously bestows upon you—because they aren’t really optional at all, the impression of free choice merely an illusion, a mirage in the distance, just for show; because Daddy knows best, you silly, stupid little thing. Daddy knows better than you (or anyone else) ever could, and Daddy only does what he does to protect you, he swears it. he only wants the best for you, he assures you.

possessive yandere koko takes his precious time staining his essence into your body using his tongue and his touch and his teeth, bursting blood vessels beneath his grip and carving his name into your inner thighs in a full set of thirty-two little indents. possessive yandere koko wants to twine your ribcage with his, knit it together in a plait and fuse it into one so you’re always with him, so you can never leave him, so you won’t ever get hurt, won’t ever be in danger, won’t ever escape his protective sight ever again.

possessive yandere koko has to fuck you every single goddamn day, just to remind you who you belong to, just to remind himself that you’re his. possessive yandere koko needs to paint your womb in his seed every single fucking night, needs to fuck you until he’s pumped every last drop of cum he has into you, until he’s bruised your cervix swollen and raw and bloody, until he has instilled an ache within you so deeply it roots itself at the very core of your body, of your soul; something that is irremovable, something that is irrevocable, something that, no matter which way you move or how slightly you shift, pulses and stings, thrashes and gnaws, reminds you of him.

it’s the best way to bury himself within you, to implant himself within your very quintessence, to make sure you never forget who you belong to, who owns and takes care of you, and he reinstates it every single night, with plunging thrusts and blunt nails and sharp hipbones.

possessive yandere koko fucks you so goddamn good that it makes up for all of the marring and marking, all of the pain and the soreness he leaves in his wake, with absolutely mindblowing orgasms.

he fucks you until your body is nothing more that a sweet, stupid little boneless heap of limbs, bones turned liquid and muscles gone heavy and pliant and soft, yielding to his every demand.

he fucks you until your throat’s been abraded by the constant stream of moans and whines and mewls pouring from your mouth, flow only interrupted by the the vicious pounding of his hips, juddering your flesh.

he fucks you until your cute little brain has gone fucking numb, fucking dumb, hazy and incapable of comprehending anything other than him, him, him; his name, his lips, his cock.

he fucks you until you can no longer cling to those tattered shreds of consciousness, until it’s all too much and you have to shut down in every sense of the word, vision whiting and mind wiping as your wrecked body seeps into the mattress, gone practically comatose as sleep finally claims you.

he ensures you end your day like this every single night, with his name splintering to shards on your tongue, messy and mangled in thick strands of drool, and his hands snapping blood vessels in the shapes of his fingerprints beneath your skin, and his seed stuffing you so full that it’s oozing out from your abused little hole, his cream smeared across your thighs and dribbling down your ass to puddle in the ridges of the sheets.

he embeds himself in you in all respects; in your body, in your mind, in your soul, depositing fragments of him in you day in, day out and working ceaselessly to guarantee they never fade, so you won’t ever be able to forget who owns you, even if you wanted to.

#kokonoi smut #kokonoi hajime smut #kokonoi x reader #kokonoi x you #kokonoi hajime x reader #kokonoi hajime x you #koko x reader #koko smut #tHIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS LONG LMAO #IT JUST KINDA #GREW OUTTA CONTROL #ENJOY ANON!!!#also stay safe n stay healthy!!#inky.koko #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years ago

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Can you do head canons for vox machina after you have to get revived

Depending on how you died, it would’ve hurt the group all the same. Having someone out of their rag tag group meeting an unfortunate end and they’re unable to prevent it from occurring? It’s not a nice a feeling in the slightest.

So it was only natural for Vax, Vex, Percy, Keyleth, Scanlan, Pike and Grog to feel as though they were all partially to blame for your death. It’s a feeling that they would carry with them even after you’ve been revived.

Death wasn’t something one can easily walk away from after being revived and you weren’t any different. If anything the experience of dying then being brought back changed you in ways unknown to yourself until someone were to be upfront about it to you.

Keyleth and Pike would constantly be checking on you after even something as small as a minor inconvenience. Healing you almost straight away even if it was something as small as a paper cut. One of them would always be seen by your side during battles with the additions of Percy and vex acting as long range shooters for opponents Pike and Keyleth couldn’t quite reach with their depleting energy.

Vax would be watching over you like a goddamn hawk, making sure no one tried to pull a fast one over you, always having your back during fights. Vex would also go out of her way to have your back during a fight but in a more discreet manor then the reckless manor her twin would take. Going so far as to scold you whenever you did something reckless in battle or went a little too far out for her liking; But her tone of words and the look in her eyes didn’t match up.

Percy would make upgrades to your weapons or completely make you a new one from scratch when he wasn’t satisfied with the lack of efficiency from your weapon. He’d go through all the processes with you on what does what but it doesn’t really matter as much like Vax he would look out for you in battle, gunning down assailants from a distance and then deny it when confronted about it like…your the only one in the group with a fucking gun dude, I heard gunshots. So naturally I’m going to assume.

Scanlan would take a more light hearted approach in comparison to his friends. Whilst they’re all trying to provide you with protection from any and all harm, the bard would go instead provide you with some company. He’d joke and jest but you noted how his smile reached his eyes nor did his laughter sound completely genuine, Alamo as though he were distracted.

He also makes a mean sandwich so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made an extra special one for you and when you’d ask for the occasion for this random act of service, he’d merely shrug it off as him doing something for a friend.

Grog would probably be protective over you in battle, always picking off the hardest ones so that you would’ve ever have to deal with it yourself. He’s your wall of protection and is more then willing to take all the physical punishment then allow you to even pertain a harmless bruise.

Over all, they would be protective over you in their own way and would gladly form a protective shield out of their own bodies strewn out in front of you if needs be. A good majority of them (Percy, Vax, Vex, etc) have lost good people that were once close to them. They’ve lost you once and there’s no way in hell would they allow that to ever happen again. Get mad at them all you like, try to push them away but they don’t care, their hearts can only take so much breakage despite what their hardened visages would like to say.

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unholy-screeching9 · 2 years ago

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Hey dear! I'm glad I made your day with my comment the other day! Your recent works have been such a blast to read! I love 'em!

Anyways! I would like to request a head canon for the reader that leans more on the plus side as in they kinda thicc. They're usually very confident with themselves but they had a off day and they get insecure about how they look and wonder if KD still loves them despite being a bit heavier.. Perhaps they need some "reassurance" from the king himself. ;)

— Mints 💗💫

Sure thing, sweetness! I hope this is up to your tastes. If not, let me know and I’ll fix anything you might not like. 💋

NSFW CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Chubby!Reader NSFW Headcanons

King Dice x Chubby!Reader NSFW Headcanons (GAME)

You have always been on the chubbier side. That’s never really bothered you, it’s just something you live with.

You’ve never had much trouble with confidence before you met King Dice, and afterwards? Once you two started dating, and eventually got married?

The King taught you how to love yourself. Sure, you never saw your chubbiness as a bad thing, but your partner helps you love that part about you.

No one has given you much grief over it in your life. It’s really nothing people worry about anyway. And if anyone dares to poke fun at your figure when your husband is around? Well…

He deals with them. Personally.

To the point where no one in the casino dares speak up about it. As they shouldn’t. Why should they be bothered? You’re not there to please anyone. Your figure is, quite frankly, none of their goddamn business.

Thankfully, it’s never really a problem. Your confidence and your husband’s protection keep the jealous broads off your back.

You love yourself. You love your body, each and every curve. Your husband loves you. Frankly, he loves your body more than you do. He adores the way your soft, squishy flesh feels against his hands.

For the most part, you’re very happy with yourself and how you look. But some days…

Some days are harder than others.

Sometimes, you don’t love yourself as much. Sometimes, you avoid the mirror so you don’t have to be reminded of your size. Sometimes, you hide in the corner on the casino floor to avoid people’s eyes.

Those are your bad days.

And of course, some people just have to make the bad days worse.

Usually, you brush off any snarky comments you might occasionally receive, or bark back with a witty insult. It keeps those patrons away from you, and you feel more confident in yourself when you watch them quiver and back off.

But on your off days… those comments get to you.

When this happens, you quickly down whatever drink you have in your hand, practically shoving your glass back into the bar counter where Ginette can reach it, and retreat from the casino floor.

You walk to your chambers, making sure to avoid the mirror, and just lay down. You think. You ponder yourself, questioning if you should go on a diet. Go on more walks. Anything to get the extra pounds off your bones.

The extra pounds that you usually love.

You hate them on your off days. You see them as nuisances. You hate the way your body looks. You hate your curves. Your pudginess. Maybe if you were skinnier, you wouldn’t have off days.

You sometimes feel bad for your husband. You wonder if he puts up with it out of pity. You think of his past lovers, wondering if they were skinny and sexy. The opposite of how you felt.

The King is looking for you at this point, wondering where you went. You weren’t at your usual spot. During his shift he’s scanning the floor, searching for your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. He finds nothing.

Maybe you just got tired. Yeah, that’s it. Rumulus might have overdone it on the gin this time. Or maybe you smoked one too many cigars with Mr. Wheezy. Maybe you were off watching the horse races.

…Maybe someone said something to you. They wouldn’t dare…

Would they?

You never leave Dice’s mind. He’s constantly on the lookout for you until the second his shift ends. Then, he’s asking around. Asking Pirouletta if she’s seen you. Pip and Dot. Phear Lap. No one knows.

Except…

“The poor dear… I think today’s one of the rough ones.” Ginette murmurs in response to Dice’s question. “And of course, some drunk bastard felt the need to open his trap. You’ll probably have more luck searching in your quarters, boss.”

Your husband hurries off as soon as she finishes. Dammit! He shouldn’t have waited to ask until the casino was closed. He should have kept a closer eye on you. Maybe if he did, he’d be able to teach that little prick a lesson on respect.

Now, all he can do is go back to his room, hoping you just needed a break from the chaos. If he finds you in tears…

Well, there’s just no telling what he’ll do.

The soft clicks of the doorknob bring you from your thoughts, and you lift your head from the pillow, watching your husband walk inside. He’s so… quiet. Careful.

He’s concerned.

You sigh softly and sit up as he approaches you and sits on the edge of the bed. He takes your hand, gingerly rubbing his thumb along your knuckles.

He looks in your eyes, searching for any signs of crying. Even one tear.

He finds one.

Despite your best efforts, you feel a small, wet droplet roll down your cheek, falling onto his hand from your chin. You sigh shakily and look down at the floor, shaking your head in defeat.

“I… I’m sorry, King. You shouldn’t have to put up with—”

“Stop.”

You hesitantly lift your head back up, studying the die’s face. He’s angry. Furious. But as you examine closer, he’s not angry at you. No, he could never be angry at you for something like this. So then…

“Who said those remarks to you?”

“What…?”

“Who. Said. Those remarks to you?” He repeats, slower. Tenser.

You shake your head again, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know, King. It was just some drunk man at the bar. It’s not a big deal—”

“He made you cry.”

Dice is seething at this point. How dare someone make you cry, no matter how drunk he was?! He has no right! Why, he oughta send that bastard straight to Hell.

And you? Well, you’re just tired. You just want to curl up and float away, where no one else can hit you while you’re down ever again. You just…

You want to be loved. You want to feel appreciated despite your heaviness. You want to be loved because of your heaviness. But do you deserve it?

“King?”

Dice snaps out of his angry trance and gazes into your glassy eyes, gently cupping your face. He feels nothing but worry right now. He hates the sound of insecurity in your voice. Hesitation. He never wants to hear you speak like that.

“What is it, my love?”

You sigh shakily, leaning your face against his gloved palm. He’s holding your head with such care. He’s gentle. Kind. Fuck.

“Does my weight ever bother you?” You whisper in question, staring sadly up at him. “Please be honest with me… if it does, I could always start a diet. I could start going on walks, or maybe wait tables on the floor to lose the extra—”

“Darlin’, stop it.” His firm voice cuts through your ramblings.

You slowly shut your mouth. When you finally have the guts to look at him again, you see the pain on his face. He’s hurting. It breaks his heart to see you so upset with the way you look, when you’re usually so confident and collected.

He doesn’t like it when you talk about yourself like that. He hates it.

“Let’s get one thing clear: I’m not putting up with anything. Your extra weight is not a burden. It’s the exact opposite. Your size is beautiful, do you understand me?”

He scoots closer to you, enveloping you in a warm, loving embrace. You choke out a quiet sob, resting your forehead on his chest and grabbing his waistcoat with your fist. He smells of cigar smoke and whiskey, with a dash of sweet cinnamon. You close your eyes, letting the tears flow.

Dice is nothing but caring to you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

“You will not be starting any damn diet. You will not be going on walks, unless you want to for reasons other than this silly ‘weight problem’. You don’t need any of those things, got that? Whatever that bastard said is complete horseshit.”

He holds you tighter, his hands running up and down your sides. He affectionately traces the gentle folds of your skin through your clothing. His touch makes you shudder slightly, moving closer to him.

“If I had even the slightest problem with your size, I would have said something long ago. I promise you dear, I love you just how you are. I can’t believe some jackass had the nerve to speak to you like that. I’ll beat him myself when I get the chance.”

His hand slowly traces down to your ass, and he gives it a gentle rub as he pulls you completely into his lap. He tilts your chin upwards so he can look down at you, kissing you tenderly.

“Personally, I enjoy the pudginess, doll… there’s just more of you to love~”

You let out a soft moan as he fondles you, wrapping your arms around him. You reach up to cup his face and rub his pips, earning a pleasured groan from your husband as he deepens your kiss.

“Mmm, babydoll… you don’t understand how much I adore you. Your lips, your hair, your folds… My word, you’re wonderful. Absolutely perfect.”

You melt in his arms, becoming putty for him to manipulate into whatever position he desires. His lips remain on yours as he leans forward, slowly pinning you down on the bed as he makes out with you.

Dice’s fingers gently tug at your top, asking permission to take it off. You blush hesitantly, a bit nervous to reveal your figure. You’re still a little insecure.

But your husband is having none of it.

“Sugar, please… let me show you how much I appreciate this beautiful body of yours. Let me change your mind about yourself.”

Upon hearing his words of reassurance you nod, and you help him slip off your top, discarding it on the floor. You blush harder as Dice admires you, hands running over your sides, gently squishing your stomach.

“You’re so soft, darlin’… you feel incredible. I wish you wouldn’t feel so down about yourself like this. It breaks my heart.”

You open your mouth to respond but your words are taken from you as Dice begins to press gentle, loving kisses onto your tummy. You moan slightly, resting your hands on his back as he praises you.

How the hell is he so good at this?

“All of this, baby. I love it. And I don’t want to part with it unless it’s something you feel the need to get rid of, for yourself. I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else says~”

You whine softly at his praises, barely even noticing him slip your bottoms off. You squeak in delight as he suddenly lifts up your legs, setting them on his shoulder.

Dice begins to nip at your beautiful thighs, trailing closer and closer to your pelvic area. The whole time, he’s murmuring sweet nothings to you as he marks you up.

He’s incredibly careful with you, treating you like some type of god. Which, you are to him. He worships the ground you walk on. He’d do anything to see you smile, to hear your laugh. To hear you cry, and say horrible things about yourself?

Why, it crushes him.

All he can do now is admire your naked figure with a hungry smile.

“My goodness sugar, you look delightful… please, never ever try and downgrade this figure again. It hurts me when you’re hurting like this…”

You hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly, shivering as Dice places his hands back on your sides. He leans over you and plants a kiss onto your lips, gently pinning your arms behind your head and tying them with his bow tie. You remove your legs from his shoulders and instead hug him with them, helping him get into position.

A moan escapes your mouth as he slowly inserts his shaft into you, and as you adjust to his size, his hands are all over you. Rubbing your sides. Your back. Your chest. Your thighs. Good LORD does Dice know how to use his hands. He’s magical.

You feel him start to push himself in and out of you, and in response, you squeal loudly into his mouth. Dice chuckles from above you and cups your face, caressing your cheek as he thrusts.

He makes love to you with such care. Such passion. He makes sure you aren’t hurting, being cautious of every single noise you make. Praises are thrown at you left and right, dissolving every ounce of self doubt you have left in your mind.

“FUCK, doll, you feel incredible… ohhhh my goodness, NEVER doubt yourself ever again. If I catch you crying over your body again I don’t know what I’ll do. You’re perfect, just perfect~”

His words are enough to cause a couple tears to roll down your face as you happily shriek for him, bucking your hips to his movements.

In response, Dice kisses each tear away, savoring the slightly salty taste they leave on his tongue. You giggle a little as he does, wrapping your arms around his neck area. His mustache tickles.

Dice relishes in your laughter. It’s a symphony of the angels. The closest his damned soul will ever get to heaven. He thrusts harder and harder, hitting your favorite spot, causing you to shriek in pleasure, begging for more.

“KING! Oh my SATAN, please don’t stop! I need you, I need you so much… please, my King, I LOVE you!~”

“I know, sweetness. I love you more than you could ever dream of… I’ll tell you what: how about a deal?~”

You open your teary eyes and gaze into his infatuated ones, wondering what he was trying to get at. As he continues to grind his hips into yours, you question what he means.

“A deal?”

“Yes, darlin’. Here’s my offer: I’ll help you cum, as long as you promise me something…”

You hold onto him tighter as you both slightly pick up the pace. You groan loudly and rest your head on his shoulder, barely able to ask your next question.

“P..Promise what?”

“Promise me that you’ll never criticize your figure again. I deal with everyone who even thinks about poking fun at your size, and that includes you. I never want to walk in my chambers to you in tears over something like this ever again.”

You pant heavily, your teeth sinking into his skin. Your mind ponders his words for a moment, and a smile graces your lips. It really isn’t a hard decision.

When you think about it, doubting your looks is such a ridiculous thing. If King Dice thinks you’re perfect, then by god, you’re fucking perfect. There’s nothing that could change that.

And with the way he’s making love to you now, you know that every word he says is the truth.

You chuckle as you lock lips with his, your tongue grazing over his pearly teeth. Nodding against him, you moan your answer into his mouth.

“I promise.”

Satisfied with your response, the King pounds into you, his hands holding your squishy form securely as he chases after your release.

You scream for him, hands tugging at the makeshift restraints. You’re getting close. God, he’s going so fast. So hard. He hits your spot with every single push.

It’s enough to push you over the edge.

You let out a final scream of pleasure as your fluids burst from under you, dripping down your legs. You’ve never felt so good in your life.

Dice’s climax follows seconds after yours, and you almost cum again when he fills you up with his seed, groaning loudly in pleasure. His hands lovingly squeeze your pudgy sides as he rides through his orgasm, his cock twitching inside of you.

What an amazing feeling.

You feel your hands be freed from Dice’s bow tie, and you immediately wrap your arms around his neck area. You hug him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder and moaning loudly as he pulls out of you.

Instead of laying down beside you as he normally does, your husband lays on top of you, wrapping his arms around you and using your soft chest as a pillow.

You’re so warm and squishy, and he loves it. He adores laying on top of you and hearing your heartbeat. It’s comforting for him. He loves it. He loves you. All of you. Every last inch.

You’ll never be able to thank him enough for helping you get your confidence back. But frankly, he won’t accept your thanks. He just wants you to be as happy as can be.

And you are.

“I love you so much, King… thank you…” you breathe out, resting your hand on Dice’s back as he snuggles further into you.

He responds by squeezing you tighter, smiling into your chest and gently massaging your shoulder blades.

“I love you too, sweet one. Every single part of you. No matter how big or small.”

You both doze off, peacefully content with one another. You get some of the best sleep you’ve ever had in your life.

And the next day?

Dice takes care of that drunk jackass who poked fun at you.

King Dice x Chubby!Reader NSFW Headcanons (SHOW)

Dice has only paused once in the entire time he’s aired his game show, Roll the Dice. One time.

That one time was when he first laid his eyes on you.

“Who will be the first lucky contestant to Roll the Dice?” His smooth, alluring voice boomed throughout the room as the spotlight began scanning the audience, searching for a ‘lucky’ contender.

His spotlight scanned over you for one second, before quickly passing. That one second was all Dice needed.

His heart shot up in his throat as he eyed your hopeful, eager form. Holy cow, who were you? You were gorgeous!

You must have been treating yourself on a night out, because neither of the two others sitting next to you looked like your date. And you know what?

Lucky Dice.

His spotlight stopped moving on some random, insignificant character. He said nothing. He missed his cue, creating a noticeable pause in the room as the contestant perked up. He didn’t care.

All he could see was you.

Your outfit hugged all the right spots on your soft, round form. Your hair was neat and tidy, and your eyes. Your eyes. They were like stars.

He simply had to get your name.

…After the show.

The last contestant was rushed through the show, and as soon as his curtains closed, he was out the door. He needed to find you. Ask for your name. He needed to see you again, to spot you through the excited crowd waiting for his signature..

He quickly signed every single scrap of paper his fans threw in his face, his eyes desperately searching for yours.

When the crowd dispersed, you were the last one standing, waiting patiently for Dice’s approach. You both exchanged quiet introductions, you out of surprise that the man you admired could be so timid, and him out of sheer infatuation for you.

One thing led to another, and now you’re both happily married. You’ve never been so content with your life until now.

The King is incredible to you, and is sure to remind you of just how much he loves you every chance he gets. Mostly by touch.

He adores running his hands over your curves, gently massaging every fold. You’ve always been confident with your form and never minded the extra weight, but your husband?

He loves that part about you most.

Your stomach is so soft, he loves to relax against it and drift off to sleep at night. Your smooth curves are addicting to touch, and don’t even get him started on your thighs.

You’re perfect to him. And he helps you feel perfect to yourself.

Your confidence skyrockets. You have no problem showing yourself off, and accompanying Dice to his many celebrity events. You love your body, every bit of it. You are beautiful, and you know it.

Well… most days.

Some days, you don’t feel as good-looking.

Some days, you wake up and question just why Dice would choose you of all people. When he could have anyone he want, he chose you.

Why?

You suddenly don’t feel so confident in the outfits Dice bought you. You suddenly avoid looking at yourself. You suddenly don’t feel like attending your lover’s show. You suddenly don’t want to be in front of a bunch of people.

You stay home on those days.

You feel a bit guilty when you do, because you know how much Dice loves it when you watch him from backstage, but you just can’t. Not on your bad days.

You opt for the radio instead, trying to focus on your husband’s smooth, charismatic voice. It helps bring your mood up, even if just a little.

“Mr. King Dice, this is your five minute call.”

The die sighs softly in his chair as his cards wrap up the finishing touches, ironing his suit, freshening up his pips, straightening his mustache. He barely notices them.

The only thing he notices is that you’re not there with him. It’s all he thinks about.

You’re still absent when he gets through the first contestant. Then the second. It’s hard for him to focus on the show.

He wonders if you’re alright. If something happened to you. If he did something to upset you.

If you’re in danger.

Dice isn’t present in his mind as he wraps his show up, strutting off the stage. He blankly grabs a couple things from his vanity, and sneaks out the back door. There will be no autographs tonight. Not when you’re not by his side.

The limo ride home is not nearly as enjoyable when you’re not there to share some champagne with him.

You’ve fallen asleep by the time he walks through the door, tears staining your cheeks. Your hand rests limply against the radio, the aftermath of Roll the Dice sounding quietly through the room.

Dice watches you closely, silently shutting the door behind him and taking off his shoes, placing them nearly by the door.

Oh, you poor dear.

You wake up to the soft, gentle feeling of your husband stroking your wet cheek with the backs of his fingers, and you open your eyes to see his concerned expression.

“King, I’m sorry…” you start to apologize, feeling horrible for skipping his show because of some damn insecurity.

“My dear, what for?” Dice shakes his head in shock, cupping your face. What on earth would you need to apologize for? Missing his show? That was the last thing on his mind. He just wants you to be happy.

“I missed your—”

“I don’t give a damn about the show, sweetheart. To hell with it. All I care about is you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, honey.”

“No you’re not.”

Dammit. Damn him. Damn him for being so fucking caring. So worried. He’s making this way harder than it needs to be.

“You’re not fine. You missed the show, and cried yourself to sleep listening to the radio. Something’s wrong. Please, doll, tell me.”

You sigh shakily and sit up, leaning against him as he wraps his arms around you. He rubs your back, massaging your shoulder blades and giving you a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

Your hand grips the trim of his waistcoat tightly as your eyes find his. His hand strokes your cheek once again, and you lean into his touch.

“…Why did you choose me, King?”

Dice is taken aback at this. What do you mean by that? Why wouldn’t he?

“I… what?”

“Out of everyone you could have had, why me? Surely, you could do so much better. There are so many others who would kill to be your lover, who are much more beautiful than I’ll ever be. People who wouldn’t be such a dead weight on your—”

“That’s enough.”

You jump slightly at the sudden interruption, and look back up at Dice. His expression makes your heart ache.

He looks so… heartbroken. Like you just told him his mother died. Your eyes well up with fresh tears as he hugs you tighter, refusing to let go of you.

“Don’t ever say that to me again. I don’t want whatever the others have to offer. They couldn’t possibly make me feel the way you do.”

Here come the waterworks. You sniffle slightly as the tears in your eyes roll down your cheeks, falling from your chin and landing in your lap.

“Dice…”

“Come here, pumpkin.”

He holds you tightly in his embrace, allowing you to bury your face into his chest. His heart cracks with every soft sob you give.

You feel your husband gently tilt your chin up, and sigh shakily as he dabs your tears away with his handkerchief.

His touch is so comforting. So cautious. You yearn for it.

“You are not a ‘dead weight’ to me, darling. Not even close. If it’s your size you’re worried about, I need that to get out of your head right now. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight. I, for one, adore it.”

“Wait, what?” The declaration catches you off guard.

“I’m not a touchy person, honey. I hate it when people get too close to me. But I just can’t keep my hands off of you. You know that. I wish I could take away every insecurity you have. All the bad days.”

Dice brings you closer, his hands resting on your plump sides. He gives them a loving squeeze, coaxing a soft whine from your mouth.

“I could tell you how much I love you and your body until my tongue falls off. But who am I kidding? We both know that actions speak louder than words.”

His hands slip up underneath your top, and he gives you a look asking to take it off. You nod hesitantly, and lift up your arms as he gently strips you.

It’s cold in the room. But it doesn’t matter. His hands warm you right up.

Your bottoms are off a second later , leaving you in your undergarments. And Dice is all over you.

Massaging your stomach. Your thighs. Hungry eyes scanning over your figure. He’s needy. And you’re starting to get there as well.

You tug at his waistcoat before slipping it off, letting it drop over your discarded clothing. Dice lets you strip him down, helping you unbutton his vest and undershirt.

You’re both hungrily fondling over each other now, your lips locking onto his. You wrestle tongues with each other, hungry for a taste. Boy, does he taste sweet, a lot like caramel.

“Mmm… lay down for me, darling.”

You obey, and lay on your back. But Dice has other plans.

“On your stomach.”

You obey curiously, turning over on your stomach for him. You feel your bottoms being tugged off, and yelp in surprise when your legs are spread out. Hands pry your cheeks apart, and Dice’s sweet voice reaches your ears.

“You look so delicious, babydoll. Don’t mind me, I just have to have a taste…”

A pleasured shriek is ripped from your throat as Dice puts his mouth to work. His tongue slips in your ass, eating you up and savoring the taste. Your stomach clenches in excitement as he continues, his saliva lubing you up quite nicely.

His hands continue holding your cheeks apart, and he occasionally gives them both an affectionate squeeze. God, you wish he’d do this more often. It feels amazing.

He stops after several minutes, satisfied at his handiwork. You whine desperately, wishing he would continue, and he chuckles softly in response.

“Don’t you worry, baby… I’m not done with you yet~”

You hear the telltale sound of Dice slipping off his boxers, and you eagerly arch your back, waiting excitedly for him.

His tip presses against your ass, and with a soft murmur of praise, he slips his cock inside of you.

Fuck, that’s incredible!

There could not be a more perfect fit. You both are like lock and key. He fills you up so much that pleasured tears leak from your cheeks, falling onto the pillows.

“I wouldn’t do this with anyone else, sweetness. You couldn’t pay me to. You’re the only one I’ll ever need~”

He affirms the message by beginning to rock his hips against your ass, thrusting in and out of you. You screech in elation, moving along with him to match his rhythm. You know damn well he’s telling the truth.

He loves you, for all that you are. Including your extra weight. Your curves. Your folds. Your tummy. He loves it all. And he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

And you? You’re head over heels. You’ve known how perfect he is since the very beginning, before you even introduced yourself. You’ll thank the lucky stars for giving you this gift for the rest of your days.

You moan loudly for him as he tugs at your hair, leaning down and nibbling your tender flesh. He pounds into you, hitting your g spot, his hands holding you in place.

“Ohhh, KING! Please, don’t stop-! Faster, King! I beg!~”

“I hear you, sweetheart. Your wish is my command~” He murmurs into your ear, picking up the pace. His hands travel to your front, resting on your round stomach and giving it gentle squeezes.

Good god, he’s magical. The more he praises you and rubs his hands on your curves, the more your insecurity fades away. You can barely remember being sad in the first place.

He’s fucking you senseless.

With a shriek, you throw your head back, allowing Dice free entry to your neck. He takes this opportunity to nip at the side, groaning loudly as he sucks at your flesh.

“Delicious… you taste delicious, doll-!” He moans into you as he continues to ram his hips into you, chasing after both your climaxes.

He finds them in no time.

“KING! King, I’m close! PLEASE— I’M GONNA CUM!~” You scream in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“IT’S OKAY! DO IT! CUM! CUM FOR ME, SWEETNESS!~”

That was all you needed to hear. You screech in euphoria as you catch up to your release, fluids exploding from under you. Your insides tingle in excitement, your legs trembling from the sheer power of your orgasm.

You cum a second time when Dice does, exploding his seed into your ass with a loud groan. He fills you up so much that his spent leaks out of you once he pulls himself out. It drips down your crack, spilling between your legs and combining with your own seed.

As a last little favor, Dice holds you steady as he leans down, lapping up every single drop of seed his tongue finds. He leaves nothing behind, cleaning you completely. You’ll never be tired of how his tongue feels against you. It’s heavenly.

You’re completely full. You’re satisfied. You’re… happy. You’re so happy. You’ve never been so thrilled in your life.

Dice collapses beside you, panting heavily. His body glistens with sweat. He’s exhausted. But when he looks over at you, all you see is infatuation.

He’s falling in love with you all over again.

You breathe out a soft laugh, snuggling closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

He rests his head on your soft chest, taking comfort in your racing heartbeat. You sigh softly in content as his hands gently knead at your sides, massaging the tension out of your muscles.

“I hope this helped you, sugar. I love you so much, and I don’t want to trade you for anything.” Dice smiles softly at you, planting a soft kiss to your lips. “Every single part of you, I adore. Never change.”

Happy tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you hug him tighter, deepening your kiss. That declaration, you think, is enough.

More than enough.

“You’ve helped me more than I’d ever deserve, my King. I love you too.”

Dice pulls the duvet over you both, and you drift off in each other’s arms, just happy to be with one another.

You wouldn’t change yourself for anyone. You don’t need to. Dice is the only person whose opinion matters to you, and he thinks you’re perfect.

And if King Dice thinks you’re perfect, well…

Who could argue with that?

#cuphead #cuphead dont deal with the devil #king dice #king dice headcanons #king dice x reader #smut #the cuphead show #king dice cuphead #headcanons #asks #my asks

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wayvsphantom · 1 year ago

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ok hihihi im home from kcon so i wanna write everything i felt n saw before i forget it lmaoooo

nmixx: honestly super cute!! i didnt know the TWO songs they did but they were fun little summertime bops! i was up and moving for their "the feels" twice cover tho and i thought i was sick of that song shout out to the girlies for performing it really well!

ive: ok i dont know if my section is just women hating or women defending but my whole row sat down for their TWO songs and everyone got on their phones (including me!) instead of watching. I was genuinely upset and angry that the stylists for ive put them (actual minors, actual schoolgirls) in slutty schoolgirl uniforms, furthering the sexualization of minors needlessly and im glad people around me were also not supportive of it. anyway i heard them perform kitch (got literally no love from my section) and love dive (slightly more love from my section) but pls can they get some help im tired of seeing them do an overly sexual love dive dance break in slutty outfits when they are actual minors

cravity: they had good energy! i didnt know their TWO songs but they had good vibes and worked really hard!

taeyong: ok i thought i wasnt gonna vibe w his set but he came onstage and i LOST MY FUCKING MIND!!! like he really just has a star energy on stage it cant be stopped like he was my first ever nct bias and hes everyones bias for a reason!!! also shalala was so fun live the bass shook my bones fr ! taeyong you were great !! he should be really proud of that performance (of his TWO songs)

shownu n hyungwon: ok i did not realize how much i loved them until they performed on stage they were both so fucking good ?? like i fully need a mx tour bc i wanna see them so bad now ?? they peformed those TWO songs w such a fun sexy grown man energy that i was deeply missing lmao 10/10 pls come back to LA

wayv <3: OK U KNOW IM SOFT ON THEM BUT OMG THEY WERE SO FUCKING CRAZY GOOD WEISHENV U WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS THEY CAME OUT TO SCREAAAAAAAAAAAAMS I COULDNT BREATHE I WASNT READY AND THEN IT WAS A NEW SONG (that i was not feeling i cant lie) BUT THEN I FOUND OUT IT WAS THE KCON THEME SONG OR WHATEVER so i was able to breathe again.... anyway fake out over they came back later in the night and they WE4RE INSANE!!! LOVE TALK!!! U WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!! EVERYONE KN EW EVERY GODDAMN WORD TO THAT FUCKING SONG!! I was getting teary wayv u r not a flop u are the most famous group in the world!!! xiaojun is unreal pretty btw also yangyang and hendery.... omg TEN!!! TEN IS SO TALENTED AND PRETTY!! also i fully understand the winwin hype now i would die to protect that man ok okokokokokokok INCREDIBLE!!! they also gave us eng ver of phantom she was cute too!! the dance break finale gave me chills omg but i was missing kun :/ wish they couldve at least mentioned him but whatever.... WAYV WORLD TOUR ASAP

taemin <3: honestly the greatest performer ive ever seen live like holy shit thats a once in a lifetime talent right in front of me like yes i am very biased that is my ult right there but like he truly cannot ever be replicated. he came out swinging w advice and the boom that was "NEVER GET THE KEYS TO MY LOCK" the crowd was readdyyyyyyy and after advice this man got a 5min standing ovation every single person there recognized his god given gift to serve and it was incredible to see LITERALLY FUCKING CRAZY AND THEN THIS MAN GETS ON THE GROUND AND WE'RE DOING FUCKING CRIMINAL??? THE SONG THAT MADE ME WHO I AM TODAY?? and he even did the slutty little cuff removing w mouth move and i lost my v oice screaming so hard i feel so lucky to have seen that my life cannot get better anywayyyyyy MOVE!!! WE MOVED!!! HE MOVED THEY MOVED I MOVED WE ALL MOVED!!! THE GIRL THE MYTH THE LEGEND THE MOVEEEEEEEEEEE!!! those hips.......... yeasssss......... !!!!! he was swinging that concave ass like his life depended on it! he was also soooo flustered from everyone going insane like ik he wasnt expecting it taemin you will be famouus for a thousand years babygirl and he said big shinee news coming soon so !!! soooo!!! world tour!!!!

ok i think i hit every group i will unpack the wayv m&g too but i just had to get this all out kcon will pay for their crimes of 2 song every artist like i'll never go to kcon again or recommend it to anyone but i had fun!

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years ago

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The Trouble of Love Languages

Dean Winchester x plus size reader

Dean’s love language is quality time and acts of service while the woman he loves most in this world craves physical touch, which is the one thing he can’t stand.

Warnings: angst to fluff, they’re both in a bit of the wrong here, Dean has touch aversion, arguing, Dean is definitely an asshole with lots of unresolved issues, slightly toxic relationship?, break up, reader is ever so slightly touch starved, lovers to ex’s to lovers again, drinking, crying, comfort, hopeful ending, Sam is a good wingman

WC: 4.7k

Minors DNI

Dean Winchester hated to be touched. After spending all of his life with minimal kind physical touch with the people he cared about, it was no wonder he had an aversion to it. He could put up with a hug or slap on the back to his brother and fleeting kisses to his girlfriend’s cheek or forehead but everything else was off limits.

She did her best with what she got but sometimes, she just wanted to be held against his broad chest and inhale his unique scent of cheap cologne and gunpowder with just a hint of cherry pie. She wanted to feel the warmth of his body pressed tightly to her but her love for the hunter kept those needs locked behind a steel door that she never noticed had begun to rust.

Y/N sighed, putting down the massive book on werewolves that she had been studying for the past few hours. There was a tight band around her head that was slowly drawing tighter and tighter as a killer tension headache set in. She glanced over to the other side of the library where Dean had his feet perched up on the table as he leaned back in his chair, mindlessly sucking one of the lollipops Y/N had bought for Halloween.

He was only wearing a gray henley today instead of his usual many layers of plaids and shirts so she could see, very clearly, the way his muscles moved under the fabric and the slight pudge of his belly. Those dazzling green eyes were fixed on a new edition of some car magazine he picked up on the way back from a hunt. Y/N couldn’t help it.

Slipping from her own chair, she glided over to him. “What’cha reading?”

“Magazine.” He grunted but she knew he wasn’t being mean, sometimes Dean just didn’t want to talk. Without thinking, she laid her hands on his thick shoulder and gave them a squeeze.

Dean flinched out of her grasp, turning so quickly that Y/N had to take a step back to avoid being knocked over. His chair clattered to the floor as the library settled into an explosive silence. Y/N knew Dean could be scary, he’s been through so much trauma, seen and experienced things twenty times over that no human should ever have to see or experience even once. He told her of his time in hell and as a demon but promised that she would never be scared of him because he would protect her.

But now, as his chest heaved with heavy breaths, he was positively terrifying. “How many times have I told you not to do that?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “You know I don’t like to be touched and yet you still continue to do it. How long is it going to take before you get it? I. Don’t. Want. To. Touch. You.” His voice was level but filled with anger, a rage she had only seen when he confronted the worst kinds of monsters imaginable.

“Dean I’m sorry I-“

“You know maybe we shouldn’t even be together. Time and time again, you do this and you always say you’re sorry and that you won’t do it again but then a couple days later, you do.” Y/N’s heart was breaking right in front of the hunter but he was too blind with fury he couldn’t see it. “I can’t be with someone as fucking needy as you. It’s every goddamn day! I can’t get one second of peace with you being so clingy.”

That was the last straw. Y/N pushed a finger into his chest, shoving him backwards. He knew how insecure she was about her need for affection and constant reassurance, but until now, he never made her feel like it was an inconvenience. “Then yeah we shouldn’t be together. But you’re not going to be the one to break us up, I am. You’re a selfish man Dean Winchester. I don’t ask a lot from you. I ask that you take care of yourself, that you don’t cheat on me, that you treat me with respect and maybe the occasional hug so I don’t feel like one of your one night stands when you roll off of me after sex.

“I deserve someone who wants to be near me, who tries to understand what I need instead of brushing me off because you don’t want to make the effort. I am sick of being treated like a toy you can pick up and put down whenever you want a quick fuck or comfort. So Dean, you got your wish, we’re done.” Y/N turned and stormed off, her eyes burning with tears that didn’t fall until she could no longer hear her now ex destroying the library.

It was sad how quickly her bags were packed, only a duffle bag and a backpack that housed her entire life. She paused as she lifted the flannel she often wore to bed, the red and black fabric was soaked in Dean’s scent and never failed to make her feel safe every time she wore it.

It felt like a reminder of her faults, of all the things wrong with her that he couldn’t put up with. Scoffing, she threw it onto the bed they had shared only a couple hours ago. There was a quick knock on the door jam.

Sam, the gentle giant that he was, leaned on the wood, brown eyes big with concern. “Where’s Dean?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” She snapped, quickly zipping up her bag and tossing it over her shoulder, barging past him.

“Hey hey, what’s going on? Did you and Dean have a fight?” He trailed after her like a puppy, sadly watching as she stomped towards the garage which notably was missing the prized Impala. A cruel part of her mind cooed that it was probably parked at some bar where he would find someone better than her.

“If you can call it that.” She muttered, throwing open the door to her truck and shoving her stuff in. Just as she was about to climb in herself, Sam’s hand wrapped around her forearm to hold her back.

“What happened?” Tears quickly rolled down her full cheeks, wetting the shirt she was wearing as they made their way down her neck. She turned to look at the men who had become her best friend, her voice firm with a slight quiver of sadness.

“We broke up.”

With a quick pull of her arm, Sam released her and she stepped into the cab of the truck. She rolled down the window, giving him a somber look. “Take care of him, ok. And-“ Y/N debated her next words carefully before speaking again. “Tell him I love him, even if he doesn’t believe it. He needs to know he’s loved.”

And with that, she drove off, leaving behind a very confused Sam and a life that she wished she could have kept.

——————

Another town, another hunt, another bar. That’s how it always went and for a long time, Dean was content to keep it that way. Then she blew into his life like a hurricane, knocking everything off path and forging her own. No more random hookups or drinking beer with every meal. She even made him get rid of all the guns he mounted on the wall in his room.

And now, the hurricane had passed, leaving behind destruction and a hole the shape of her in his heart. But she would not come back, he made sure of that when he called her clingy. He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. He regretted it the moment it left his mouth and watched as the light in her eyes died.

She was gone, because of him, because of his stupidity he lost the best thing that has ever happened to him and the only thing he could do was accept it. So, he went back to his old ways, paving over the path of destruction in his soul the only way he knew how, beer, hunts, and women.

Sam decided to stay in the motel that night, shooting his older brother a look so devastating that Dean couldn’t meet his eye for fear he would see the disappointment and pity he already felt in himself. But Dean slipped out the door anyway and headed for the closest bar, truly not giving a shit if it was any good or not.

The music was too loud, the lights too dim, the beer too stale. Dean, however, was determined to stay, trying to convince himself that he could go on without her. He downed his first drink quickly, not letting the taste hit his tongue before his glass was drained. Signaling for another one, he rested his elbow against the sticky bar counter.

It was familiar, like returning to your childhood home. But it felt wrong. The voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him to leave, to find her and crawl on his knees begging for forgiveness until she came back. That voice was silenced with another glass of cheap whiskey.

The hand planted on his chest was familiar too. A touch he could tolerate because he knew what came after, sweaty bodies rutting together until that rush of dopamine hit him and he could feel like a normal person for a while. She was pretty, young too and obviously enamoured by the sexy older man with a gruff voice that bought her drinks and made her feel special.

Another drink. She asked him to go back to hers and he agreed, following blindly after her as she led him away. He couldn’t remember the walk to the non descript apartment, only coming back to himself when she took his hand in her own, shooting him a wink that he supposed was meant to be sultry but just served to lessen the ache in his cock.

Her slender fingers hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, tugging his thin hips into hers and pulled him into her home. The door slammed shut behind him, blindly following her.

A grunt was knocked from his lungs as she moved him onto her bed, sinking to her knees with hooded eyes. “Lemme take care of you baby.” Her voice was grating on his ears. Dean resisted the urge to flinch when her palms were laid on his muscular thighs.

It was so wrong, a nightmare he couldn’t escape but at the same time, didn’t want to because he wanted to prove something to himself, to validate his anger and his rage at the woman that loved him so much. Dean felt her tug at his belt and was broken from his thoughts.

“Stop. Just stop.” He all but shoved the girl off of him in his haste.

“What the hell!” She chastised, quite obviously offended at having been rejected by this man that until a few seconds ago, seemed very keen to have a night of fun with her. Dean shook his head and with a muttered ‘sorry’ left her kneeling on the bedroom floor.

“You fucking dick!” She called after him, and he couldn’t help but agree.

——————

Jody’s home was pleasant enough to live in. With home cooked meals every single night and a deluge of girl talk with not only the Sheriff but the two teens in her charge. It was a good distraction for a while, getting caught up in the usual antics of the young women that Y/N imagined Sam and Dean were like when they were younger.

But even the best distractions can only last for a little while. And each night, as she settled into the small bed graciously given to her, Y/N just felt alone. She was out of place here, a passing visitor that had overstayed her welcome long ago. No matter how much Jody may have protested the opposite and Claire and Alex insisted that they loved having her there, this wasn’t Y/N’s home.

Her home had always been Dean. His presence had soothed her soul in a way that nothing had ever done before. She lived for nights where they would drink and laugh themselves silly or when he would prepare her coffee just the way she liked it in the morning. She desperately missed how his face would break out into an uneven and frankly goofy smile when she teased Sam.

In a vain attempt to stop her mind from going down a road that she knew would make her spiral, Y/N shoved her headphones in her ears and blasted a random playlist. The soft guitar and crooning voice so similar to Dean’s had her eyes burning with tears. Her chest ached as she thought about the way he sang to her in the car, his hand on the seat beside her plump thigh, not quite touching her but close enough she knew it was there.

Tears rolled down her temples wetting the pillow beneath her head as she let herself mourn the love she had lost. Her sobs were silent, mere hiccups as she forced herself not to make any noise to alert the others. She couldn’t take anymore of their pitying looks.

She hugged herself tightly as her nails dug into her soft forearms, her chest heaving with her cries. Images of the man she considered her soulmate with another woman sent her deeper down the rabbit hole of self-despair. She could only imagine what he had gotten up to in the weeks since she left and it was driving her crazy.

The song faded out, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts for a second too long. The brightness of the screen blinded her for just a moment before she clicked on the last text exchange in her phone.

I love you sweetheart

The low buzz of the outgoing call rumbled against her chest where she placed her phone face down. In the silence between each ring, she was doubting her decision more and more. Why should she reach out first when he was the one that broke them?

“Hello?” His raspy voice came out crackled through her head phones, making her heart jump slightly.

“S-sorry butt dial.” She panicked, quickly hanging up but not before hearing him call out, “Wait! Plea-“ Y/N threw her phone onto the pile of her clothes in the corner of the room, ignoring how it was now ringing again, a photo of her and Dean lighting the screen.

Sleep did not come easily that night even after her cries ceased, her eyes finally fluttering closed as the sun began to peak over the horizon, dousing the room in a soft pink.

——————

It was rare that music didn’t play in the Impala. There was almost always a constant stream of classic rock that spewed from the radio, yet the silence was more overwhelming than the usual loud songs Dean sang along to.

Sam was deeply concerned for his older brother. He knew the break up hit him hard, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, but the younger Winchester didn’t think it was this bad. Dean reeked of the same whiskey he religiously drank after they lost Bobby. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, the Impala, his prized possession looked dull and lifeless, caked with dirt and dead bugs.

Dean hadn’t shaved in the weeks since she left so he now sported a semi-impressive beard which Sam attempted to make fun of just the same as his own facial hair had been but Dean had merely grunted and ignored him. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” He attempted to start a conversation.

“Jody’s.”

“Why?” The one word answers were nothing new, but at least he was talking. Dean’s green eyes flicked briefly over to his brother before returning to the road.

“Hunt.” Sam sighed, slumping back against the leather bench of the car, his focus shifting to the world that was speeding past them. He was sick of this self-pitying attitude that was slowly driving the older man to madness when it could be solved so easily.

“If you pulled your head out of your ass, you could get her back.” The air in the car turned to ice. “Don’t act like I didn’t hear you frantically calling her last night.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He growled, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. But Sam kept pushing.

“She’s the best thing to have ever happened to you and you just let her leave. Or maybe you just never loved her since you went home with someone only a week ago, that’s why you didn’t put up a fight.”

“Shut up Sam.” Sam, that should have made him worry. He was only called Sam when Dean was pissed and on the edge of an almost toddler-like melt down.

“I’m just saying, if you really wanted to, and I mean really really wanted to, she would forgive you. But you don’t want to make the effort.” The tires screamed as Dean pulled off the road with a flick of his wrists. Sam was jerked sideways with the force but then was sent the other direction as Dean fisted the front of his flannel and shoved him back against the car door.

His eyes were wild with fury and his next words came out in a snarl. “I can’t get her back. Don’t you understand that. I just can’t.”

“Why not?” He pushed, desperate to get his brother to finally come to his senses. “You know she loves you and that she would do anything for you. What made this fight so terrible?”

“Because I can’t touch her!” The silence quickly returned as Sam tried to comprehend what he was just told. “I can’t touch her Sammy.” Dean was on the edge of tears. He released his shirt from his grasp like the fabric had burnt him and buried his head in his hands.

Sam had never witnessed Dean like this before, like his world was crumbling down before him and he wasn’t doing anything to stop it because he had just given up. No matter the circumstances or insurmountable odds that had faced him, he always pushed through with his can-do attitude and unwavering loyalty to those he loved. But now he was being consumed by a hopelessness so many monsters had attempted to instill in him but never could.

He was heartbroken and suffering. He lost the woman who knew his soul and yet still loved him. Sam knew what that despair felt like, to have such a great love ripped away and not giving yourself time to lament on that loss.

“Dean.” He started but was quickly interrupted.

“I couldn’t give her what she deserved. I couldn’t be that loving boyfriend she wanted so badly. I couldn’t even fucking hug her without feeling like I wanted to push her away. And I knew it was hurting her but she was right, I am selfish. I wanted her to myself even if I could see her slowly dying inside.”

The sun was quickly setting over the brothers, the reds and purples giving way to a deep blue. They watched, for a moment, as the stars began to appear and the darkness surrounded them. “I’ve hurt so many people in my life. My hands have been stained red with blood for so long and she was the one person I couldn’t stand to hurt. Yet I hurt her so badly that she ran away from me.”

“But you do want her back don’t you?”

Tearful green eyes looked back at him. “More than anything.”

“Then we need to make a pitstop, I have an idea.”

——————

Y/N couldn’t help but notice Jody’s worried glances towards the front door as they ate dinner. “Alright Mills, that’s the eighth time you’ve looked at the door in five minutes. What’s going on? Do you have a secret lover coming over?” Claire snorted in her drink but quickly recovered as her surrogate mom shot her a glare.

“No, I do not have a secret lover. Thank you very much. I’m just waiting for a package.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at the older woman, still incredibly doubtful.

“It’s almost 10 at night, why would a package be delivered this late?”

“Well, I-“ The doorbell rang, saving her from having to give another lame excuse. “Excuse me a moment, there’s my package.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at the Sheriff, not saying anything else.

Alex sighed, shaking her head, like she was in on some conspiracy that Jody had set up. “Have you got anything to add?” Y/N teased.

“Nope, nothing at all. Isn’t that right Claire?” Said girl, who was sitting to Y/N’s left, just huffed and took another large bite of her food.

Y/N ignored the muffled voices coming from the entryway, assuming that Jody, being her usual friendly self, was making conversation with whoever was at the door. Then, “hey girls, I need your help for a minute.” And without so much as a groan of annoyance, both teens stood and rushed from the room.

Before Y/N could follow after them, she heard the front door slam shut and the obvious sound of a car engine starting up and then driving away. “What the hell?” Just as she stood from the table to investigate, a large figure blocked the doorway.

“Dean?”

“Hi sweetheart.” She melted at the sound of his voice clearly after so long and not through the crackly and broken version she heard through the dozens of voicemails he left her the night before. She itched to run into his strong arms but remained in place, her hand absentmindedly falling to the table, laying her palm flat against the butter knife she had been using. “I hope you’re not planning on using that on me.”

Dean gestured to her hand in a joking manner but only succeeded in making her scowl at him. “You look like shit.” He winced at her tone.

“I deserved that.”

“You deserve a lot worse. What the hell do you want Winchester?” Dean sighed. His body tilted forward, like he wanted to get closer. Running a hand through his hair, which was slightly longer than he normally kept it, his eyes dropped to the ground.

Y/N watched as he deflated, the usually stoic image of the hunter before her crumbling to dust and leaving a man that looked truly broken. “I didn’t mean to call you clingy.” Straight to business, good. She thought.

“But you did. And you did it knowing full well how I feel about that word.” Unconsciously, her voice softened as he nodded along to what she was saying.

“I know and I’m sorry about that. I’m- fuck- I’m sorry about everything.” Y/N didn’t object when he took a tentative step forward and she cursed her body for not recoiling as he drew closer. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to move away. “I wish I could be the man you want, the one you deserve, but I’m not and I don’t think I will ever be.”

“Not really selling your case here Dean.”

“Just- just let me get to my point and then you can cuss me out. I love you and I want to change for you. I want to get better at touching you and I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home. Besides Sammy’s been pouting a lot without you there and it’s getting really fucking annoying.” Of course the man couldn’t get through a serious discussion without being a dumbass.

Dean stood inches from her now, and Y/N could see how his hands trembled, either from anxiety or the copious amounts of alcohol she smelt from him, she didn’t know. “I don’t want you to change, Dean. I love you for who you are but you really hurt me and-“

“I know.” He cut her off. “I know and I want to make it right, if you’ll let me.” His green eyes shone with tears

“Goddamn you and your stupid puppy dog eyes.” She grumbled. Dean smirked. “Alright! Jesus, we can try again but I expect so much fucking grovelling, like ten times more than I had to do when I accidentally ate the last slice of pecan pie.”

He smiled and nodded, placing his hand on the dining room table mere millimeters from her own. “Anything you want sweetheart.”

“And no sex for the foreseeable future, not even over the clothes stuff.” He winced at that but still, his smile did not waver.

“And, and, fuck I can’t think of anything else with you looking at me like that.” She whined and turned her head so she didn’t have to look into his eyes anymore. Y/N gasped as a finger hooked under her chin, guiding her gaze back to the man she still loved so much. His smile was even softer now, almost dopey with love.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means never getting to see you in anything less than fully clothed for the rest of my life and giving you all of my pie. I just need you, sweetheart.” His forehead dropped to her own, the tips of their noses brushing together in an act so intimate it made her chest burn with affection.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” The question hung heavily in the air, pressing down on both of their chests like a massive weight. Dean breathed out harshly through his nose and Y/N froze, already fearing his answer, she began to pull away. But without any hesitation, his right arm wound around her thick waist and tugged her into his chest. Caught off guard, Y/N planted her hands on his chest.

She felt the way his body tensed beneath her palms, still so unused to being touched but he didn’t let her go like he would have before. “The short answer: no.”

“And the long answer?” Her throat felt like it was closing up with the onslaught of tear building behind her eyes.

“A girl brought me back to her place and tried to go down on me but I didn’t even kiss her. I left before she got my belt off.” Unable to stop herself, Y/N chuckled.

“You just left?”

Dean’s cheeks coloured with a rare flush. “Yeah, I walked out the door and she was still on her knees calling me a dick.”

“Well she was right about that.” And they stayed like that for a moment, letting themselves be reminded about how much they loved each other. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, Dean stepped away.

“Wait here, I have something for you.” With a few long strides, he left the room and then quickly reappeared holding a canvas bag with the phrase ‘act like a lady, think like a boss’ printed on the side in big, bold lettering. “Don’t diss the bag sweetheart.”

And before she could snark something back, he pulled a teddy bear from the bag. The bear seemed to be a regular plush at first glance, but when Dean handed it to her, Y/N couldn’t help but smile brightly. The toy easily weighed 5 pounds and suspiciously smelt of Dean’s cologne. “I thought that this could be a substitute for when you want to cuddle. But this is temporary, cause I will get better. He’s just a placeholder.”

“He?”

“Yeah.” He sighed happily. “Little Dean Jr.” Holding the bear tighter to her chest, Y/N stood on her tiptoes and finally planted her lips on his. Her skin burned as the soft kiss quickly turned more passionate and his newly grown beard scraped against her. Fingers curled into his hair, Y/N yanked him even closer as Dean’s hands fell to her generous ass, giving her cheeks a light squeeze.

Reluctantly, she pulled away first, her lungs screaming for oxygen and her brain telling her that if she kissed him any more, she would end up in the back seat of Baby with her legs over his shoulders. “This is a start. But I will not have you talk to me like that again. If you do, I’m gone and you won’t ever see me again.”

“I promise, I’ll do better.” Content with his answer, Y/N pecked his swollen lips.

“The bear was Sam’s idea wasn’t it?”

“But I named him!”

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years ago

Text

The Laundromat

Summary: After your smarmy landlord refuses to fix your broken washing machine, you resign yourself to spending your days at the laundromat. That is, until your boyfriend, Andy Barber, gets involved. Also be sure to check out the follow-up fic, The Incident.

Warnings: Frustrated Reader, Smarmy Landlord, Sexual Harassment, Angry/Protective Andy, Daddy!Kink, Light Spanking, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @writer84 - hope you enjoy. Part of Early Growing Pain. Written on my phone. All mistakes my own.

___

Fuck! You couldn’t believe this had happened yet again. Gritting your teeth, you watch as your washing shakes and rattles before giving you one final, dramatic clunk.

It had died. For the third goddamned time.

Trying to keep your breathing under control, you stomp your way up the stairs to grab your phone. It was time to call Rodney, your deadbeat landlord.

Thankfully, he answers on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Rodney, hi! It's -“

“Of course I know who this is! Always happy to hear from one of my favorite tenants.”

His overly enthusiastic response has you rolling your eyes.

“Rodney, my washing broke down. Again.” You run a frustrated hand through your hair.

“Oh. What a shame. But I’m afraid I’m real busy today, sweetheart. Not sure if I have time to fit you in until sometime in the next week or two.” You could hear the smile in his tone.

“Seriously? This is the third freaking time in three months! I need it fixed today.” Your left hand goes to massage your temple. "Please."

“Well, sweetheart, there’s always the laundromat.”

Argh!” You slam a fist onto your counter. “That is unacceptable - especially since you didn’t fix it right the first time. C’mon, dude.”

Rodney heaves out a dramatic sigh on the other line. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there by 2:00pm.”

“But it’s after 10:00am already and I have plans tonight.” With your boyfriend, Andrew Barber. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Aw, well, you know, I just looked at my schedule and I actually can’t make it out there until closer to 3:00pm. Sorry, honey.” Your landlord does not sound the least bit apologetic.

“Fine.” You grumble. “See you then.”

“Bye for now, sugar.” And then the line goes dead.

Fuck!

——

Rodney rings your doorbell a little after 3:30pm. You swing open the door, clearly pissed.

“Sorry, about the delay. I was pretty busy.” The man with crooked teeth and salt and pepper hair holds up his old-looking toolbox.

“Whatever. Can we just get to fixing my machine? Please. I have somewhere to be tonight.”

“Of course, but I was hoping you might be kind enough to offer a tired man a glass of iced tea while he works.” There was that crooked, slightly yellowed grin again.

“I only have lemonade. If you head down to the basement, I’ll bring you a glass.”

He nods his head again and then trapse down to the basement. You quickly pour him some fresh-squeezed lemonade. And then you hurry to join him, handing over the glass when you do.

“Boy this is a tough one.” Rodney moves the machine away from the wall. With a small shudder, you watch as he starts to take off his shirt as well.

“Wife just bought it for me - can’t come home covered in dirt.” Here’s the thing, the man wouldn’t come off so icky if he bothered to invest some teeth whitener.

Oh…and if he wasn’t rocking the whole predator vibe. So, ew factor engaged.

“Sweetheart, can you hand me that Flathead screw driver?

“Uh, that’s a little beyond my wheelhouse. Is it this one?”

“No, you pretty thing. That’s a Phillips. Lemme’ show you.” And then suddenly he’s behind you, breathing on your neck, the smell of his breath threatens to make you gag. His hands are on top of yours.

Heart pounding in your ears, you pick up the biggest wrench in the box - which you're fully prepared to use as a weapon.

“Aye now. I didn’t mean any harm.” He backs away, palms up. His chubby belly bouncing lightly. “I just like helping pretty girls is all. How about I take out to the little sandwich shoppe down the street as an apology?”

“No.” You huff, wrapping your arms across your dark blue blouse. And, of course, you’re still holding the wrench. “Either fix my machine or leave.”

“Come have an early dinner with me and I will.”

“No! Do your job and get the fuck out of my home.” You can feel your chest heaving as your skin grows flushed.

“Technically, this is my home. And if I don’t like the people who rent my homes, I can make their lives difficult.” Rodney tells you, his mouth set in a firm line.

“Get. Out. Now.

“Fine. But first, give me back my wrench.” He holds out his hand expectantly.

“I will. As soon as you step foot out my front door.”

___

An hour later, you sat baking at the laundromat - the only laundromat within a thirty-minute range.

And it was bustling. So far, you’d only been about to secure one washing machine for yourself and you needed two more.

You look down at your outfit, and sigh in dismay. Your sneakers, worn gray yoga pants, and blue shirt just weren’t going to cut it tonight.

Just then you spy an open machine. You shoot your man a brief text, apologizing for having to cancel last minute and shove your phone back in your pocket.

By the time you remember to pull out your phone, you still have one load of laundry spinning in the washer, and two more in the dryer.

God, were you sweating!

2 Missed Calls from Andy Bear

2 New Voicemails

3 New Texts from Andy Bear

Biting your lip, you check the messages. All of the messages. The first two voicemails ask what came up and whether or not you’d need to push back dinner.

While texts came off a bit…annoyed.

Andy Bear: Baby, where are you?

Andy Bear: Just answer your goddamned phone, please. Are you okay?

Andy Bear: Jesus, what fuck, honey? As soon as I’m done with this last case file, I’m coming over.

You: Sweetheart, there is no need. I’ll see you tomorrow.

*Silence*

Rolling your eyes, you keep working to finish your laundry. Once you’re done, you take your time hauling out the bags and throwing them in your truck.

While you had initially been trying to fold your clothes, at some point you had given up and just chucked them your over-sized IKEA bags.

___

Forty minutes later…

You finally pull in front of your two-family brownstone, only to dismayed when you see your man’s Audi parked there as well.

Great. Super duper awesome.

And he had a key to your place, which meant he was already inside. Huffing and puffing as you carry heavy bags up stairs, you’re not surprised when your Big Man opens your door.

“Hi, now please move.” You brush by him, winded and sweating while he follows behind you.

“What the hell?! Why the fuck are you suddenly giving me the cold shoulder?” He growls.

“I am not!” You snap back. “I told you didn’t have to come over, Andy.”

He grabs a bag from you, looks inside, and then tosses it on the bed with a thunk.

“You blew me off to go shopping?” That one thick vein in his neck is pronounced and throbbing. “Do you know bad I was dying to see you today? Goddamnit!”

“Oh. My. God.” Your hands sink into your curls and pull. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

You move to walk by him again, only for him to wrap one big, slightly calloused hand around your tiny bicep.

“Do not walk away from Daddy when we’re speaking, little girl.” You turn and level a decent kick to his shin, eliciting a curse from as he hops on one foot.

“I will have you know that my washing machine broke. Again.” You dig through your kitchen, desperately looking for something to eat.

Oh, look! A box stale saltines.

You turn back to Andy. "It broke for the third time and I called my fucking dick of a landlord who claimed that he couldn’t come by until 3:00pm, which was really more like 3:30pm. And then, the smarmy bastard took off his shirt, got a little handsy, and basically refused to fix anything unless I grabbed dinner with him.”

“He what? That little fucking bitch did what?” Andy’s face goes red, his nostrils flaring.

Unfazed, you pour yourself a glass of lemonade.

“Exactly what I just said! So, I threatened him with the biggest wrench he had and then kicked him out.”

“Uh huh.” Is the only thing your Big Man says.

“So, I just spent over three hours sitting in a hot, sweaty laundromat fighting people for fucking washing machines.” You throw your hands up in frustration.

You chug your drink as Andy approaches you, effectively pining you against your kitchen sink. He plucks the glass from your hand polishes off himself before leaning down to whisper in your ear:

“Do you know who else has a state-of-art washing machine? Complete with air conditioning, food, and a full bar?”

Trembling slightly, you look into enticing blue eyes and shake your head “no”.

“Your Daddy.” He growls against the tender flesh of your throat. “Your man has all that and more.”

He flips your body around and delivers two smacks to your ass.

“I - I didn’t want to bother you and -“

“Ow!” He pops you again. “Ow! Ow!”

“Baby girl, you are never a bother. Now I’m going to take you out for a sandwich. That little shop around the corner. Let’s go.”

“Okay, Sir.

“Bothering me…” He mumbles, still shaking his head in disbelief.

___

You’re halfway to the sandwich shoppe when you stroll by Rodney’s own home.

“Ugh!”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You say before rolling your eyes. “My skeezey ass landlord lives there and…

You trail off when he turns away and proceeds to head up Rodney’s stairs.

“Oh, god! Andy, come back! Jesus - baby, let it go!”

Let’s just say that, a month later, you found yourself moving in with Andy. After a while, it simply became too hard to deny your man the one thing he seemed to want more than anything.

Especially after The Incident.

END

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thebackseatofjimsblazer · 2 years ago

Text

Pairing: Hopper x F!Reader

Rating: M — no smut for this part, but still graphic. MINORS!DNI

CW & WC: 4.4k — you and robin flirt, Jason and you have a sex scene but it sucks? You kick jason out of your apartment. You publically humiliate jason at a bar & hopper protects you from him (slightly violent) description of sex with hopper. Use of alcohol!

Summary: Robin talks you into going out to the bar for drinks and attention, but you meet Hopper & he promises you things no man has been able to give to you.

Part 2

“I’m telling you Y/N, you need to just get dressed up, go to a bar, and find a rebound. I mean, hell, I think just about anyone would do; it’s not hard to be better than Jason,” Robin rambles. You look at her, rolling your eyes at the idea of doing that. It had been three weeks since you had broken things off with your — now ex —hook up, Jason. Robin chuckles before continuing her playful teasing, “I… I could be better than Jason, if you’re tired of talking to guys.” Robin and you had always flirted playfully together, before and after she had came out to you, so you found her proposition in a humorous way and chuckled.

“Oh, you’d just love that, wouldn’t you?” You ask, playing along with her. A smirk tugged at your lips as you looked at her from your position on your bed. You both snickered, Robin’s nose crinkled up when she did.

“Oh, Y/N… I know you’d love sitting on my strap as much as I’d love seeing you on it. But we both know that isn’t going to happen, so why don’t you spruce yourself up and get ready to go out,” Robin instructed, getting up from her spot on the ground to walk to your closet.

Going out to a bar and trying to find a man again just didn’t sound that appealing to you. Three weeks ago, you were determined to get rid of men — well, specifically Jason — because they just didn’t seem to benefit you in any way. You can still recall the night you kicked Jason out of your house.

“Ugh,” Jason grunts as his hips still, finishing in you exactly four minutes and twenty-seven seconds after he had entered you; exactly nine minutes and five second after he had touched you for the first time that night. No, he hadn’t been giving you this magical form of foreplay that didn’t need the use of his hands. Jason was just a jackass. So as he pulled out and rolled over to his side to lay next to you, you spoke up.

“Hey Jason,” you mutter, blanket clamped tight to your chest. Your eyes bore into the sealing as you lay on your back. Jason grunts in ackowledgement, not giving you any more energy; just like his style of fucking. “Get out of my house, like now.” Jason didn’t understand at first, thinking you had said it as some kind of joke. That was until you repeated yourself.

“What? Why?” He inquires, sitting up to get a better look at you. You think for a minute before deciding on what exactly to tell him, but you ultimately decide on speaking your truth.

“Jason, look… you don’t feed me, you don’t pay any of my bills-“ You begin to list off, but Jason interrupts you before you could get through them all.

“Yeah, because I’m not your goddamn boyfriend!” he barks. The tone in his voice begins to make your blood boil. Lips pursing together and nostrils slightly flaring, you sit up with the blanket still clenched to your chest.

“Jason, you didn’t make me cum!” You bark back. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you watch him react to you also raising your voice. You notice the muscles in his face as he registers what you told him.

“What does that have to do- God dammit, you’re so confusing,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. You jump out of your bed and begin throwing his clothes at him to hasten his exit. Jason, catching his clothes and standing up to face you begins to protest, “Y/N, what the fuck?! Come on-“

“No! You didn’t make me cum, you’re not paying my bills,” you continue to find items of his and throw them at him while shouting, “You’re not feeding me, you’re not my boyfriend,” you stride over to where he’s at and grab him by his bicep and pull him to your bedroom door as you continue your rant, “hell, you don’t even buy toilet paper for here. So, lower your goddamn voice because you clearly haven’t earned the right to speak to me like that,” you pull him through the apartment to the front door, “and get the fuck out of my house. I’m done Jason… I’m unsatisfied and done.” You finally say as you push him out of the confines of your apartment, slamming the door in his face as he stands there dumbfounded.

“Wait, Y/N!” He tries yelling through the door, anger clear in his voice. You couldn’t give a damn about what he was wanting to tell you, but you walked over to the small window near the door.

Sliding the window slightly open, you yelled, “Shut the fuck up, Jason. Come talk to me when your dick grows a few more inches and can actually make me cum.” With that, you slammed the window shut and walked to your bathroom to clean yourself up. All of this didn’t have to happen. Jason could have simply got up, got dressed, and left when he was told to do so when you first said it. Instead, he chose to do… whatever the fuck that was.

You snap back to where you were currently sitting on your bed as Robin waved a short red dress in front of you. Your nose scrunches up at it, still not sold on going out tonight.

“Come on, Y/N… at least go out and let someone buy you a drink. We both know that it’ll happen. No money spent; no harm done,” Robin does her best to get you to agree. You ponder the thought of getting a little tipsy for the least amount of money possible, and then finally agree with a slight nod and smile.

“Okay, but I’m not wearing that…” You say, getting up from your spot to take the dress from Robin. Placing it back into the closet, you flick through your other ones to find one you thought fit the mood better. You finally land your sights on a light blue number that you had bought last spring. Grabbing it and turning to Robin, you say, “It says ‘Hi, I can flirt somewhat’ and not ‘Come fuck me’ like the red one did.”

“And what’s wrong with wanting to express your yearning for a good fuck?” Robin questions, quietly sitting on the bed as you got dressed.

“Oh, absolutely nothing. I just- I’m not going to the bar specifically to find someone to fuck me. I’m going because, like you said, I can let someone buy me a drink.” You reason, slipping the dress over your body and letting it fall against your skin. You haphazardly swipe some mascara on and mess with your hair until it looks how you prefer before you’re slipping into the passenger seat of Robin’s car. In the car, Robin continues her rambles about bar room safety and how to successfully spot danger before falling into a trap.

“I’m serious, Y/N… One split second that you don’t feel safe, you make a collect call to the apartment — remember the safe word is ‘cherry bomb’ — and just hide in the wome-“ You clamp your hand over Robin’s mouth and giggle as she comes to a stop in front of the bar you had chose. Out of retaliation, she licked your palm. “Alright, I’ll be up and waiting for when you’re ready to come home. Do you remember what to say for that?” She asks, brows raising in question as you start to get out of the car.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s ‘I’m ready for you baby’.” You giggle as you begin to climb out of her car. Turning to shut the door, you tell Robin that you love her and you’ll see her later. That was always something the two of you did, no matter how frustrated one of you may be. Which wasn’t the case right now, but it had been in the past. Before she could drive off, you’re already turning around and walking towards the entrance of the bar.

Dense smoke filled the air and scratched at the inside of your nostrils when you walked inside. For it being a Friday night, it didn’t seem like a lot of people had come to this specific bar. To be fair, it was closer to the end of town and was named “Calamity Jane’s”. It had always been known as “Chlamydia Jane”, making it hard for many people to go there seriously. You made your way to the bar and took a seat, politely waiting for the bartender to get done serving a lovely looking couple at the opposite end of the bar. You knew that you’d have to at least buy your first drink, despite how much confidence Robin had in you to just walk in and make all the men your slaves. You chuckled at the thought of how much Robin put you on a pedestal; raising your worth in the world above everyone else, leading you to have a higher confidence since the beginning of your friendship.

“What can I get for ya’?” The bartender asks, wiping down the part of the bar in front of you and placing down a coaster in preparation for a glass.

“Just a rum and coke with whatever the house rum is, please,” you smile at her. You wait patiently for her to mix up your drink as you hear a gruff voice from a few seats over from you speak up.

“The only people who willingly order house anything are the ones who know they’re not only going to have a few drinks, but also know what they’re getting into and don’t give a fuck about the consequences,” he says, looking at you out of the corner of his eyes while taking a sip of whatever cheap beer you saw Jason drink at a party back when you both were still in high school.

You nod your head and hand the bartender your debit card to open a tab for you when she hands you a glass, “Put it under Y/N, please,” You say to her before turning your head to the man, “You’re absolutely right about that.”

You take in his features as you take your first sip, allowing your eyes to scan from his face down to his legs. The dinghy lighting casted a light shadow across the man’s face, but there’s no denying that he’s attractive. The slight beard growing in helps contour where his jaw and neck meet; mustache adding a sense of authority you couldn’t quite put your finger on yet. He quickly turned his head and made eye contact with you, catching the way you were observing him. You simply smiled at him after taking a sip from our drink.

“Do you have a name?” You ask, tracing the rim of your glass with your middle finger as you await his answer. He chuckles a little bit before nipping on his beer bottle.

“It’s Jim, doll.” He crosses his right hand over his body to reach out so he could shake your hand. You take it daintily, giving him an oh so sweet smile before greeting him with your name. “What brings a pretty girl like yourself to a dump like this?” He asks, turning in his stool to face you better.

“Eh, I dont think a man of your maturity would care to hear about my problem; it’s pretty juvenile,” you huff out, rolling your eyes at the thought of Jason. “What about you? What’s a good lookin’ guy like yourself doing in here when I know you could be at a place like Gamber’s, having specialty drinks served to you by high class servers?” You ask. This causes Jim to chuckle with a grin because yes, he could be there instead of here. But he’s not.

“For one, I’m not at Gamber’s because they don’t have my PBR,” he explains as he lifts his beer in the air to punctuate the importance. “Plus, they may have high class servers, but they definitely don’t have beautiful young women like yourself, teasing me with the thought that her problems are too juvenile for me to understand. So tell me, why’re you in here drinking piss poor rum?” His eyes squint slightly as he scans your figure. Unable to come up with a proper response on the spot, you tilt your glass at him as a way to say touche. What’s the worst that could happen? He tells you exactly what you already think about Jason?

“Alright, grandpa…” You say as you twirl around in your barstool, “Come with me to that booth and I’ll lay it all out on you.” You make your way over to a booth in the corner of the bar, sitting on the side that faces the back wall of the room. As Jim sits opposite of you, the overhead light gives you a better opportunity to see his features more clearly. His gloomy, deep blue eyes stare at yours in anticipation; waiting for you to spill your thoughts out on the table between the two of you.

“You must be going through something awful if you wanted to come all the way over here to talk about it,” He says, reaching a hand out to yours to run a thumb over the top. You smile at him, biting the inside of your cheek before continuing the conversation.

“Nah, I just don’t want the gross ones to hear about my love like,” you say, voice slightly above a whisper so as to not grab anybody else’s attention. Jim’s face lights up with a smile that reaches his eyes as he bobs his head in a series of short chuckles.

“And what’s got your love life in shambles, darlin’? Boyfriend act-“ You cut him off before he could even go farther.

“No, absolutely not. Jason was never my boyfriend and he never will be,” you explain. You cross your arms, signifying that you were confident in your statements. You didn’t want anybody to think that Jason would ever be more than he was. Hell, he’s lucky enough to have even gotten it in with you as many times as he did — which was not that many times to even begin with. “We fooled around for a couple of months, but that’s about it.” Jim’s face purses up in confusion, eyebrows knitting before he begins to pry for information.

“So what’s got you all hung up on him?” The way he squinted his eyes more than hinted that he was confused. You shoot your eyes around the wall behind him, contemplating how much you’re willing to tell him and what you want to keep private. “Just tell me… maybe I could give you some advice since I’m, according to you, a grandpa,” he adds, warmly smiling at the recollection of your name for him.

With a final sigh, you begin your rant, “Alright, so pretty much- god, I’m just going to come out and say it so that it's out of the bag… he is horrible in bed and doesn’t know how to satisfy a woman. Like, he- jeez, I’m sorry if that was too forward but that’s the reality of it. He just tries to rush everything, doesn’t take my pleasure into consideration, and- and well he just thinks he’s all that when he’s really not.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers as you dip your head, waiting for any type of reaction. You look up to see Jim with a frown on his face, eyes boring into yours. You wait a few seconds before continuing.

“I came out tonight because my roommate suggested that I come out and find a rebound, but I don’t even know if that’s what I want right now. Him and I… we hooked up for months. I can’t help but feel like I gave him so much pleasure and he didn’t give me anything in return,” You say, tone becoming somber as your share your true feelings with Jim. He reaches out his hands to grasp yours, engulfing both of them and lightly shaking them to get your to look up at him.

“Please, for the love of Christ, tell me that you at least kicked him to the curb,” He says. You begin to chuckle thinking back to how it all happened.

“Yeah, i kicked him out and made him get dressed on my front porch,” You snickered, nose scrunching up at the thought. A bellowing laugh came from the deepest part of Jim’s chest as he shook his head.

“Jesus, girl! You know, you are something else. You know that?” He says, leaning back into the seat as he releases your hands. He lets out a chuckle of disbelief as he thumbs his eyebrow.

“Yup, I kicked him out right after we had sex. Gross fact, but everything,” you begin, starting to care less about how much details you tell Jim, “like, from first kiss to him cumming, was nine minutes and five seconds,” you say, eyebrows raising to punctuate how unbelievably disappointing Jason was. Jim shakes his head, hand over his mouth in disbelief when he heard what you said.

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s just tragic,” he whispers, a smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth. You playfully throw your napkin at him before asking what he found amusing about all of this. “Oh, nothing… just the fact that whoever this Jason is, clearly is a boy. Maybe one day you could step out and give a more mature man a taste,” he suggests. “I mean, that’s only if you’d be into it. I’m sure there's guys your age that could definitely make you- er, uh… finish.” He says, whispering the last part and leaning over the table closer to you so that it would just be the two of you who could hear him.

“I don’t think its an age thing for me. I think I just want someone that’s willing to-,” you begin to further explain your feelings, but are interrupted by shouts of your name. Quizzically, you turn your head and have the misfortune of seeing Jason. You quickly turn back to Jim, eyes widened and lips puckered up in frustration.

“Is that him?” Jim questions, looking at the blond man walking towards him as you bow your head. You let out a quick ‘Yep’, still looking down at your lap as you twiddle with your fingers.

“Is he com- Oh hey, Jason,” You say and then quickly follow it with, “Okay, bye now Jason.” You give him a snarky smile and a little wave of your fingers, trying to express some attitude towards him. You didn’t want to be rude to him here, but the thought of it wasn’t off the table. As long as Jason was nice and just walked aw-

“What? No, what are you doing here?” He asks, waving his free hand around to signify that he was talking about the booth with Jim.

“None of your fucking business,” you snap. Jim looks like he’s thinking about interjecting if things get too ugly, but you put your hand on his to silently tell him that you got it covered. “Did you dick grow a few inches like I suggested or are you just that dense?” You ask, referring to the last thing you told him three weeks ago and quipping up your eyebrow. You were always this mean? No. But, it was very mean for Jason to not get you to finish and weeks of that was about to come out here and now if he didn’t walk away soon.

“Shut the fuck u-,” he begins, but is immediately cut off by you getting up to stand right in front of him.

“No, Jason. You shut the fuck up. You don’t get to just come in here and try to hound me for meeting with Jim for a few drinks,” you counter. You could feel your blood rushing all around inside your body, heating your face as you stare him right in his eyes. But even more, a small plan is beginning to form in your brain. You don’t want to make Jason jealous. No, not at all. You just want to make him mad enough to leave you alone for good.

“Didn’t know you’d go after someone so old…” he trails off, hand reaching out to point at Jim. He was still sitting at his spot in the booth, maintaining his distance but still staying in the loop of everything. Watching the disgust on Jason’s face as he looks between you and Jim is what finally lets the last puzzle piece fall in your head. You just hope Jim does not take offense to what you're about to say.

“Jason, I actually want to say thank you…” you trail off, smirking as you look up at him. “Thank you for being so bad in bed, that I came here to find a rebound. The past three weeks with Jim have been just so amazing. God,” You sigh as you roll your eyes. You look back at Jim, not being able to read his expression just yet before you give him a wink and turn back to Jason. “I can’t even begin to describe how much better it is to be with an older man. My cunt just responds so much better to his thick, mature cock than it did to you,” You say, punctuating your description of Jim’s member to Jason. “I’ve never been more satisfied in my life than when I’m completely stretched by Jim. So thank you Jason, for having a good for nothing shitdick,” you finish. Jason’s face is completely red by the time you finish and you can tell his fuse is very close to burning completely off. He just needed one last nudge, “Have a nice night, Jason. I know I will.”

You go to wave at Jason, letting him know that now was a good time to turn around and go back to whatever he had been doing at the bar before coming over to you, but stop when you see his arm reach back. Swiftly, Jim stands up and rushes to get between you and Jason, grabbing the younger’s arm with one hand and his throat with the other. Your immediate thought was of shock from teetering on the line of being assaulted. Your second thought was for the thick roll that happens in the pit of your stomach from seeing Jim grab Jason like he had. You couldn't help the arousal pool inside, admiring Jim’s tense back muscles as he pushes Jason a few feet away from you.

“You listen here, boy. You ever, and I mean ever,” Jim grits his teeth, tightening his grip on Jason’s throat, “lay a hand on her or any woman, I’ll make sure I’m the one taking the report so I know your sorry ass lands in a cell. You hear me?” Jim’s threatening demeanor causes Jason to panic, fear filling his entire body as they maintain eye contact. Jim pushes on his throat one last time to get any kind of response out of him. Jason quickly nods his head, letting Jim know that he understood and hoping that he would let him go.

With a sigh, Jim lets him go but continues to stand in front of him, “You’re going to walk out that door, get in your car, and drive off. Do I make myself clear?” Jim looks down his nose at Jason. Without giving him an answer, Jason makes a bee line for the door. He didn’t give a look in your direction nor did he pay his tab. Still stuck in your spot, you watched as Jim walked over to the bar and closed both your and his tabs. His back was still tense with an aggressive manner as he finished up business with the bartender.

Part of his lecture to Jason stuck with you, though. ‘I’ll make sure I’m the one taking the report…’ It finally clicked for you that he was the Jim Hopper. How it never clicked to you is completely foolish, but still makes sense as you had not gotten into any trouble growing up in Hawkins. Watching him still, you couldn’t help but think about what it would feel like for him to take charge of you like that; to feel his hand wrap around your neck as he presses his body against yours.

Jim pulls you out of your daze when he steps in front of you again, waving your debit card in front of your face. “I figured it would be too awkward with all the quote, unquote, gross ones looking at you for the rest of the night after hearing what you had said, so I got our stuff,” he says, ushering you to get your purse from the booth and slam your drinks before escorting you to the door.

“I’m sorry if I ruined the mood…” you trail off once both of you get outside. The cool breeze shifts your hair and makes the bottom of your dress whip up. “Thanks for not letting him hit me, it means a lot,” you say, voice quieter than before as you dip your head. “I know I can push buttons sometimes… my mouth has gotten me in a lot of trouble in the past.” You say, looking up through your eyelashes to look at Jim in the face. He adorned a sly smirk as he started sauntering towards you.

Jim reached out and placed a hand on your jaw, tilting your head to have you look up at him. He scanned your face, allowing you to do the same to his. Goosebumps danced over your skin and your breath hitched; your body naturally responded to how close Jim was to you. “I would never let something like that happen if I could prevent it. It was the least I could do, doll,” he whispered, analyzing the way your breath picked up. “Why don’t we go back to my place? We could pick back up from where we left our conversation…” Jim reached his other hand to rest on your lower back, pushing your body even closer to his in the process. Dipping his head down to your ear, his hot breath grazed your skin when he spoke again, “And we can see just how much trouble that mouth of yours can get you in.”

#Stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things fandom #ao3 author #jim hopper #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #stranger things x reader

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ticklishraspberries · 3 years ago

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Playing Doctor (Riff/Reader)

Summary: Riff comes home with a few bruises from a fight, and the reader anxiously checks him over, only to discover something much more fun. (Here it is, some Riff x reader. Inspired by a conversation I had with @bigirlgiggles. Hope y’all enjoy it!!)

Riff sits on the edge of the bathtub, sporting a bruise to his jaw and several other minor injuries, and although he’s insisted that he’s fine multiple times, you just won’t let it go until you’ve checked him out.

“It was just a little fight,” he says, his tone the perfect mix of exasperated and touched by your protectiveness.

“And you come home looking like shit,” you reply. “Sit still and let me make sure you’re okay, or I’ll give you a new bruise.”

Your comment makes him chuckle. “Alright, alright. But if this is just a ploy to get me undressed, I’m gonna feel real betrayed.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish.”

Carefully, he pulled his shirt over his head, resting it over the sink. “All yours, doc,” he teases.

There’s no obvious signs of serious injury, but your anxiety won’t stop whispering in your head; broken ribs, internal bleeding, all sorts of things you aren’t equipped to fix, and convincing Riff to go to a hospital will be impossible.

Reflexively, you reach over to inspect his skin, little bruises and scars from previous nights like these litter his torso. “Let me know if anything hurts,” you say, carefully prodding.

Riff is good at hiding his reactions to pain, you’ve learned, but this time, he jerks away the moment your fingers touch his ribs with a muffled sound.

“Are you okay? Does that hurt? Do you think anything is broken, or—?”

He reaches out and gently takes your wrist. “I’m not hurt, baby doll, quit your worryin’,” he says softly, but the tips of his ears have flushed pink.

“Then why’d you flinch away?” you ask, annoyed by his need to act rough and tough all of the time. If he was hurt, why wouldn’t he let you help? These goddamn Jets, so proud and masculine, he's going to be the death of you.

“Just startled me,” Riff replies, but he’s looking down at his knees. There’s none of that usual Jet-like swagger in his tone, and his ears are definitely flushing.

Bullshit excuse, you think, and reach your hand out to touch the area once again. Instead of a wince or shout of pain, Riff lets out a huff that almost resembles a laugh, and pushes your hand away.

Oh. Oh.

“No fuckin’ way,” you say.

Riff’s blush has spread to his cheeks. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare what?” you ask. “I’m just looking after you!”

He has nowhere to run; the bathroom is too small for him to dart around you, and if he scoots any further back, he’ll go sprawling into the bathtub. You watch his eyes dart around for an escape and the almost instant realization that there is none.

Your touch is soft now, no longer clinically prodding. Your fingers are gentle, using your nails to stroke the bottom of his rib cage, and you watch him shiver and suck his teeth, holding back the urge to laugh. Goosebumps start to rise on his arms. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable.

It’s fucking adorable.

“I didn’t realize you were so ticklish,” you coo.

“Shut it,” he replies. “M’not as bad as you, at least.”

That comment earns him a quick squeeze to his sides, which successfully startles a laugh out of him, causing you to grin. “This is too good.”

You tickle at his sides, listening to the melodic sound of his giggles, and you watch as he makes a valiant effort to not shove you off, probably fearing he’d accidentally hurt you if he did. He’s used to roughhousing with Tony and the other Jets, but he’s always gentle with you.

“Quit it,” he says, but he doesn’t sound mad. In fact, he almost sounds like he’s having fun.

“Not a chance,” you reply. “Where else are you ticklish, hm? What about your stomach?”

Instead of letting him answer, you test it for yourself. He hunches over, trying to block your hands, giggles still spilling from his lips. Yup, definitely ticklish there too.

It’s a truly adorable sight. It’s rare for Riff to act silly like this, always putting on a brave face. You wonder when the last time he laughed like this was, sparking another question.

“Does Tony know? I’m gonna have to ask him for all your worst spots,” you tease.

“I’ll kill you both,” Riff chokes out.

“You don’t sound so intimidating when you’re giggling.”

“I don’t giggle!”

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, and swipe your fingers against his belly again, making him twist away with a sound that’s as close to a giggle as you can imagine.

“Sure you don’t,” you reply, smirking.

You move back towards his ribs, and he finally reaches for your hands, holding them tightly to prevent any further attacks. “No more,” he says, almost like begging, although he’d deny that.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods. “Just fuckin’ tired. And besides, I thought this was a check-up. What’s the prognosis, doc?” he asks, giving you a grin.

“I diagnose you with ticklish,” you reply, giggling.

His face is still red, and no matter how grumpy he tries to look, you can see the smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up from the edge of the tub. “You comin’ to bed?”

You follow him back to the bedroom happily, storing memories of his sensitive spots for the morning.

#riff west side story #riff wss #riff x reader #west side story #wss fic #tickle fic #ticklefic #riff wss x reader #raspberry writes

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lilithbasically · 3 years ago

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A.N.: This is INCREDIBLY overdue. This was for @touyasdoll ‘s TPND collab. Life got really fucking insane and I just now got the time to finish it. I’m so sorry it took so long, bby. Ilysm, thank you for being a great friend and so patient while I got my shit together. I hope this was worth the wait 🖤🖤

*Minors DNI*

“Time”

W.C.: 8.4K

Reader x Izuku x Shoto x Kirishima x Bakugo

Warnings: A bit of angst, some fluff, lots of oral (f and m receiving), plenty of dirty talk, exhibitionism, no protection used, reader is pretty subby, fingering, some degradation, praise, somnophilia, rh, foursome with an audience member, branding, triple penetration mentioned

__________

“No, fuck you, Enji. You asked for help and I’m here. Stop being a little bitch and assign me where you need.”

Shoto, Kirishima, and Midoriya stopped to look at each other.

“There’s no way that’s her…”

“No, she’s still in America, right?”

“Uhh…pretty sure that’s her,” Shoto commented as you stepped out of Endeavor’s office.

“Hey, guys! Didn’t know I’d see y’all today but hi,” you gush, sending the trio your best smile.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you came back. What are you doing here?” Midoriya asked.

“Oh I was fine in America and then my agency got a request for help from that fucking asshole in there. So now I’m here again for the foreseeable future.”

“How’s Bak-“ Shoto started to ask before receiving an elbow to the ribs from Kirishima.

“It’s fine, Kiri. I don’t know how Bakugo is. I followed him to America like he asked and then he disappeared with a note that said, ‘I need time’. And time he has had and will continue to have. I’m just living for the moment.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” Midoriya asked, surprised by his own brashness.

Shifting your eyes to those bright emerald ones you respond, “No, I’m not seeing anyone. Why, Deku?”

The emphasis you put on his hero name had his dick twitching in his pants. If it had been up to him, Midoriya would’ve had you years ago but Bakugo just couldn’t help himself; he always did have to have the best of the best and goddamn if that wasn’t you.

“Because I’m taking you out. Shoto and Kirishima are too. I’ll see you tomorrow night, Doll.”

“Oh and, Y/N? You might want to tell Mina and Jirou you’re back soon. You know they’ll lose it if they have to find out from someone else,” Kirishima chuckles as he turns away.

Eyebrows almost lost in your hairline, you watch the three heroes walk away wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

_____

“Alright, babes, Jirou is on speaker. Tell us what’s going on,” Mina prompts as she leans against the headboard of your bed while you rummage through your not yet unpacked boxes of clothes.

“Ahh, see, about that. I had to go to Endeavor’s agency yesterday and I ran into Kiri, Deku, and Shoto on my way out.”

Jirou laughs, “Did you think you’d come back and be able to avoid everyone?”

“No! I mean, it was definitely unexpected but not unwelcome. It’s just what happened after that’s got me a little…how do I put this? Shook as fuck.”

“Y/N, spill it, I’m dying over here,” Mina pleads.

“They all asked me out. Well, Midoriya told me he was taking me out and that Shoto and Kirishima would too and neither of them said no.”

The silence permeating through the room might have been intimidating if you hadn’t been watching Mina’s face morph from shock to excitement before a squeal erupted from her lips with Jirou’s supporting cheers from your phone.

“Oh my god, oh my god, OH MY GOD, Y/N!!”

“Wait, not to bring down the mood or anything but, what about Bakugo?” Jirou asked.

“Oh, right. Well, I moved to America with him, like he asked. We were perfect I thought, until I came home from patrol and saw most of his clothes were gone and a note on the bed that said ‘I need time’. I tried calling him and it said his phone was disconnected from service and he didn’t leave anything telling me where he went so I tried Kirishima. Kiri said he got a text from Bakugo the night before saying he wasn’t in danger or being held hostage or anything like that. So,” you shrug your shoulders and let your friends take in the story.

“THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE,” they both exclaim. You chuckle at their response and continue digging through boxes, “It’s honestly whatever at this point. I worked through it and I’m fine. Also, Mina, I’m expecting a text from Deku so watch for that pretty please.”

Your phone chimes and Mina perks up, “Ooooh a text from Midoriya, right on time apparently, he says, ‘A sundress or the equivalent is perfect, Doll. See you soon’ AND HE PUT A KISSY FACE,” Mina squeals along with Jirou adding her approval through the phone.

“Okay the fact that he calls you Doll is way more adorable than I’m comfortable admitting,” Jirou states.

“Alright, ladies. I’ve got to get ready because he’ll be here within the hour. I love you both and I’ll fill you in the first chance I get,” you say as you take your phone back and walk Mina to your door. Hanging up with Jirou, you look at Mina who pauses in your doorway before turning around to face you.

“Look, Y/N, we love you. We missed you so much and are so glad you’re back. If you need or want to talk about the shitty stuff, we’re here. Never gonna turn down a girl’s night,” she laughs. You step forward and give her a hug, “Thank you, Mina, but really I’m good. If I ever need to though, I know where to find you both.”

You shut the door behind you and lean against it, take a deep breath and start toward your bedroom determined to find the perfect dress for the night.

_____

The knock at your door causes your pulse to spike and your nerves to come back tenfold. Grabbing your phone, purse and keys, you open the door to see Midoriya in black slacks and a crisp white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N. Ready for our night?” He asks, holding out his left arm for you to take and lead you to his car.

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing, Deku?”

Opening the passenger door for you, he gave you a small smile and kissed the back of your hand, “Patience, Doll. You’ll see soon enough.”

You watched his hand work the gear shift as he pulled from the curb and drove into downtown, finding yourself unable to stop watching the muscles in his forearms rippling under his skin that was riddled with scars. Coming to a stop at the local farmer’s market, you look at him questioningly but hold his offered hand anyway, intertwining your fingers, and stepping out of his car to join him through the stalls.

“I’m cooking for you tonight but I remembered how often you talked about going to farmer’s markets and how much you loved them so I thought I would bring you to one to get last minute ingredients before we go to my place.”

Surprised anyone would remember such a mundane thing about you took you completely off guard. Reeling from the realization that Midoriya had an interest in you for far longer than you anticipated made you almost miss the swell in your chest as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across your finger.

Still a bit dazed from his confession, you say, “I’m surprised you remember that, Midoriya,” playfully bumping your shoulder into his arm.

He chuckles and bends down to press a soft kiss to your hair, and murmurs, “You’ll be hard-pressed to think of something I don’t remember about you, Doll.”

The drive to Midoriya’s house was innocent enough if you discount the filthy thoughts that flitted through your head when he put his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles against your skin with his thumb. Your mind raced with the possibilities of how the night would end. Midoriya was always a perfect gentleman but a girl could dream, right?

Once you both get the groceries inside Midoriya looks to you, “Find something to watch, I’ll get dinner started.”

Quickly searching for your go-to series, you start playing it and head into Midoriya’s kitchen. Leaning against the island, you ask if you could help.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can handle the garlic if you want,” Midoriya relents, handing you a small cutting board, cloves of garlic, and a knife. Getting to work dicing, you mindlessly hum with the song on the radio, lightly swaying your hips, completely unaware of the audience you’ve attracted. Until you feel arms around you, his hands surrounding yours, his hips placed firmly against your ass, hands guiding yours when he whispers, “Like this, Doll.”

Slightly breathless you ask, “Was I doing it wrong, Deku?”

“Nope. Just wanted a reason to touch you.”

Attempting to calm the pulsing in your core, you shift your legs together and turn to Midoriya, looking up at him through your lashes, “Anything else you need me to do?”

“Oh I can think of a few things, Y/N but I think adding that to the pan would suffice for now,” he whispers, reaching an arm behind you, his breath warm on your skin, “Thanks for helping, Doll.” Giving you a swift kiss on your cheek, he pulls away to add the garlic, leaving your brain a scattered, reeling mess. Wondering what the hell he’s actually capable of if that simple act could turn your panties into an ocean, you didn’t notice him setting the table until he cleared his throat. An amused smirk plays at his lips and dances in his eyes as he gestures to the chair he’s holding out for you.

Dinner with Midoriya was oddly comforting and truth be told, you couldn’t remember the last time a first date felt so…natural and easy going. He asked how America was and you asked what he’d been up to since you’d left. No mention of Bakugo, no press to know what happened, just your run of the mill conversation between old friends with an insane amount of sexual tension floating through the air. Once you had both finished dinner and put up the dishes, you followed him to the couch. He raised an arm, inviting you to snuggle into his side, and picked a movie to watch, you realize it’s the first movie you watched together when you were teenagers. A small smile pulls at your lips as a warm feeling tugs at your heart.

“Oh my god, Deku, do you remember the first time we watched this when-“

“When you took a drink and then laughed so hard it came out of your nose?” He chuckled, “I definitely remember that, Doll. That’s one of my favorite memories.”

Pulling you closer into his side, he rests his head against the top of yours and you giggle when you feel him lip syncing the words like he’s watched it a thousand times.

Midoriya pulls away with a smirk and gently grips your jaw with the tips of his fingers, pulling your gaze to his, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing! It’s just…cute how you still do that,” you say with a shrug.

His face forms into one of confusion before asking, “Do what?”

Giggling again at his reaction you explain, “You still do the thing where you mouth the words along with the movie if you know it well enough. It’s adorable and I love it.”

His freckles almost disappear behind the pink tint blooming beneath his skin and he groans with slight embarrassment. Now, Midoriya wants to even the playing field. Reaching over to grab your other thigh, he hauls you over onto his lap and lets his hands settle on your hips. Pulling you into his chest, he whispers, “I’d love to show you what else I can do with my mouth, Doll.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you press your chest to his even further as you roll your hips against him, ghosting your lips across his you murmur, “Then show me, Deku.”

Muttering a small ‘fuck’, he picks you up, his hands gripping your ass, and walks you to his bedroom.

Throwing you onto his bed, you see green lightning fill the room while he sheds his clothes. Pecs and abs glittering in the light of his quirk, the muscles in his arms flex with every move. Slowly starting to undress yourself, you drink in Midoriya’s eyes roaming over you as he burns every curve, bend, and outline into his mind before a light growl leaves his lips.

“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you, Y/N?”

You smirk and slowly spread your legs, “I’m open to some show and tell.”

Licking his lips at the sight of your arousal glistening on your skin, Midoriya lays between your legs and works his way toward the apex of your thighs, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses and bites in his wake. Chuckling when you whine in impatience, he finally reaches your core and wastes no time in flattening his tongue, running it along your folds and stopping at your clit, flicking over it a few times. Slipping two fingers into you, moaning against you while sucking your clit into his mouth, gentle nibbles send your body into overdrive. You moan as he curls his fingers and ruts his hips against the mattress to relieve the ever-growing throb of his dick. Feeling your walls pulse around his digits he pulls away and withdraws his fingers, mouth and chin soaked, his fingers glistening with your arousal. A whine of disapproval leaves your lips at his absence and your pussy clenches around nothing in desperate need.

Chuckling, he brings his fingers to your lips and you open, allowing him control over the moment. Retreating from your mouth, he holds your jaw as he did before, demanding your undivided attention, “Aww…did my pretty baby want to cum?” A snicker slithers past his lips as his grip tightens a fraction and pulls you toward him until your lips are a mere breath away from his, “The first time you cum with me will be on my cock, Doll.”

Pulling himself up to rest his throbbing length against you, he kisses you hard. Tongue and teeth collide with each other until he smirks when you moan at the stretch of his cock sinking into you. Slowly at first, making sure you feel every inch of him sliding against your walls and gliding against the spots that make you lose yourself; Both of you gasping when his hips sit flush against yours.

“Fuck, Doll…you’re gonna ruin me.”

Giving you small teasing thrusts, sliding his thumb in agonizingly slow circles around your clit, he chuckles and asks, “You still wanna cum?” Seeing you nod, sweat plastering hair to your forehead, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, he gives in. His hips piston back and forth coaxing you over the edge; until he hears you say, “oh fuck…Deku”

His thrusts quicken with a, “Fuck, Y/N, you have no idea what you do to me…need’ta fill you, Doll.”

Whimpering a small, ‘please’, you succumb to the onslaught of pleasure rippling through you. Body shaking and mind reeling as Midoriya relaxes against you, finally sated enough to sleep.

Your eyes drift to a close, slipping into dreamland and the last thing you hear is, “Hey, Y/N? You’re probably asleep but I just need you to know…I…fuck…I just want you around. So, please don’t leave again. I need you, sweet girl.”

_____

Two days later at the agency, you walk into the break room to grab a snack and bump into Kirishima coming through the door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Could I talk to you for a minute?” He asks, his smile as bright as ever.

Nodding your approval, you step back into the room, allowing his enormous form to enter.

“Would it be alright to go on our date tonight? I mean, if you want to, that is. I’d never make you go on a date with me and I don’t want you to think that but you didn’t say no when Midoriya said-“

You cut him off with a giggle and chaste kiss on his cheek, “I’m free tonight, Kiri and it’s very sweet of you to double check with me. Thank you but I’m more than okay with going on a date with you. What should I wear?”

Blushing as red as his hair, Kirishima clears his throat, “Um, sports or casual? Like shorts and a T-shirt with comfy shoes would be perfect. I get off patrol a couple hours before you but I’ll be parked outside when you get off.”

“I’ll meet you out there then. Can’t wait, Kiri.”

_____

Finally done with patrol, you walk out of the agency to see Kirishima dressed in basketball shorts and a fitted band shirt that hugged his bulging muscles, leaning against the passenger door of his car, a brilliant smile crosses his face when he sees you. Stepping forward to take your bag, he wraps you in his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, emotions swelling in your chest at the gesture. He opens the door for you before putting your bag in the trunk and sliding into the driver’s seat. He pulls away from the curb and as if it was as normal to him as breathing, Kirishima reaches across the console to take hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and rubbing soft circles against your skin with his thumb.

“Oh, um, when’s the last time you ate?” He asks, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Hmm, lunch. So it’s been about 6 hours.”

Breathing out a small sigh of relief and smiling, he looks at you and squeezes your hand, “Good.”

“Can I ask why that’s important?”

“You’ll see in about five minutes,” Kirishima smirks, giving you absolutely no hint as to where he’s taking you. You wonder if Shoto is going to be as secretive as Deku and Kiri are. Maybe they just like surprises. Kirishima didn’t lie though, almost exactly five minutes later you saw why he had asked about you eating.

He brought you to an amusement park.

You let out a little squeal and shimmy around in your seat, momentarily forgetting you weren’t alone until a deep chuckle fills the car, “I’m glad you’re excited. I was a little worried you might not like roller coasters like you used to.”

“Are you kidding?” You ask, still bouncing in the seat, “I still love them. Always have, always will.”

Parking and walking around to your door, he holds his hand out for you to take, which you do without hesitation. Clearly he’d bought tickets ahead of time as he guides you through the turnstiles, showing his phone to the person standing watch to scan. He turns to you once you’re through, that bright smile once again gracing his features, “I just remembered you saying how much you loved them but you never had anyone to ride with. I hoped you’d like this.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest because this man just has the annoyingly amazing ability to make you swoon. Not giving you the chance to respond he asks, “Biggest one first?”

“As if you don’t already know the answer to that,” you giggle. Smiling impossibly bigger, Kirishima takes your hand and leads you to the biggest roller coaster available.

Standing in the ridiculously long lines at amusement parks was never your favorite part of the day but, being in them with Kirishima was an experience in and of itself. Watching him interact with those around him was more entertaining than you would have guessed. Adoring fans recognizing the “manliest hero” and wanting his autograph or a picture with him warmed your heart. Especially when you were in line for food and a toddler waddled up to him, arms extended and hands making a grabby motion saying, “Kiwipima, Kiwipima” and he scooped him up, talking to him like he was just another friend.

It wasn’t until you’d both reached the ferris wheel that Kirishima started to get antsy.

“You wanna go?” You asked, nudging his shoulder a bit.

“Only if you want to, Little One,” he responds and you nod, his nickname for you drawing a shiver down your spine.

Kirishima mutters something to the attendant that you can’t quite catch but you do see him slip a generous amount of money to him, nodding subtly. You laugh watching him try to shrink down his massive frame to fit into the cart, once again holding his hand out to help you in as well. Stepping into the small space, even smaller with Kiri in it, you’re pressed against him so much that he has to drape his arm over your shoulder to accommodate the both of you. You had the drifting thought of asking what he could have possibly needed to pay the attendant for but that question was soon answered when the ride came to a stop. Perched at the top you could see all of the lights across the city but even more so, the stars twinkling throughout the night sky. Kirishima just sits and watches you take it all in until he sees the sparkle in your eyes that could rival the stars themselves. He can’t help himself, reaching out a hand to gently cup your cheek, he kisses you. His tongue slips through the seam of your lips, tangling with yours, his hands roaming but never quite getting exactly where you’d like them.

Pulling away he chuckles breathlessly, “I was really trying to not be so cliche on the first date.”

“I don’t know, Kiri,” you say, amusement shining in your eyes, looking at his hand on your inner thigh and then at him through your lashes, “I think some cliches are pretty manly.”

If you still didn’t have any inclination as to what Kirishima paid for, it was made clear when a voice came over the speaker of the cart: “Not to worry ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some technical difficulties. Everyone is safe, no need to panic. Give us 5 minutes and we’ll get you back down.”

“Wow,” you declare, still a bit breathless from his kiss, and look at Kirishima, the air turning heavy and thick with desire, “What could we do to pass the time?”

“I have something in mind, Little One. You just sit there and…admire the view,” he says, sinking down to his knees between your legs, relieving you of your shorts. Sucking in a breath when he pulls your panties to the side and sees you already wet, he glances up at you silently asking for permission and you nod fervently. Delving forward, Kirishima laps at your clit, drawing sinful moans from your lips. He works a single finger into you and you suck back a gasp. If one finger is enough to fill you, you can’t wait to feel the stretch of his cock. Smirking against you, his tongue circles your clit, prodding a second, thick digit into you, curling them up to reach the spot that he knew would unravel you.

“Oh fuck, Kiri…please,” you moan.

Feeling your legs start to shake and your walls flutter, Kirishima murmurs, “Wanna cum, Little One? Do it. Make a mess of my fingers.”

Just as your body tenses, the waves of your orgasm rushing through you, the Ferris wheel jerks to a start. Kirishima chuckles as he lets you ride out the aftershocks then pulls his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. You pull your shorts back on and try to steady your breath, attempting to make it look like you hadn’t had your soul sucked through your clit just moments before. There’s no doubt the attendant had an idea of what had happened and that’s made clear by the sly smile and, “I hope you both continue to have a wonderful night.”

You walk back to the car with Kirishima hand in hand, fingers intertwined when he looks down at you, desire still blazing in his eyes and asks, “Still okay with cliche, Little One?”

Looking up at him and letting out a breathy laugh you say, “I wouldn’t consider anything about that last bit cliche but, yes I am definitely more than okay.”

“Well then, to take it a bit further, would you like to come home with me?”

“I would like that very much, Kiri.”

The drive to Kirishima’s house was tense to say the least. He kept a hand on your thigh, switching between kneading your plush skin every few seconds and rubbing up and down just close enough to your center that it made your pussy ache in anticipation. Chancing a look at him from the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw tense and rigid like he was holding something back. You started to ask if anything was wrong until he parked and immediately got out of the car, once again opening your door for you and offering a hand to lead you to his apartment. You could tell he was still tense but thought it best to hold off on asking. As soon as his door shut behind you, Kirishima spun around and closed the distance between you, putting his hands on either side of your head against the door. Dipping his head to your neck, he let his tongue slide up from your collarbone to your jaw before his sharp teeth graze the shell of your ear. A deep rumble you could feel through your hands on his chest filled your hearing before he sucked in a breath.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you, Y/N? I haven’t asked about your time away because I already know. I watched every interview, all the news footage, saw all of your posts on every social media because I needed to stay connected to you. Now that I have you, there’s no way you’re slipping from me again. You’re mine, babygirl.”

Slamming his lips to yours, he pulls you with him as he steps back, walking backward to his bedroom while each of you pause the make out session to take off different articles of clothing along the way. The second you’re in his bedroom he has you against the wall again.

“Just to warn you, I’m going to pick you up and fuck you against this wall until the only thing that pretty little head knows is my name. Any objection to that?”

“Kiri, I’m too heavy. There’s no way-OH my god!”

A deep chuckle resounds from his chest as Kirishima lifts your legs over his arms, hands gripping your ass, and pins you to the wall, “If I were any less of a man, I might be offended by that. You may want to hold on, Little One.”

You never got to see exactly what awaited you but just from feeling the head pressing against you, you knew you were about to be spit open and pushed to your limit. Kirishima thrusted into you in one fluid motion, leaving both of you gasping and muttering curses. Feeling him pressed snug against your cervix almost took you apart on its own. Finally slowing sliding out until just the tip remained, he slams back into you hard enough to take your breath away. Removing his hands from your ass, he puts one flat against the wall and the other against your lower back, fully spreading your legs, hitting even deeper than before while he sets an unrelenting pace. Moans, muttered curses, and whines fill the air between the sound of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

“Fuck…you’re so wet for me…so tight, baby girl. Need you to cum on my cock. Need to feel it so I can fuck my fist to the thought when you’re not here…”

“Oh god, Eiji!”

Your body responds immediately, walls clamping down, gushing around his thick cock. Groaning your name while he cums, Kiri stays buried inside you planting sweet kisses across your face before walking you to the bed. Slipping out of you and laying you down, he falls into his bed behind you, draping an arm over your waist to tug you against his chest as close as possible. You were sticky with cum and sweat but neither of you could find the energy to do anything about it.

“Hey, Little One? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Kiri, I’m more than okay,” you whisper back.

“Is it okay if I drive you to the agency tomorrow?”

“Of course. The other guys know so I don’t care who else sees.”

Pressing a kiss to your temple, Kirishima lays back down. Dragging you into a peaceful sleep with his fingers scratching soft, comforting circles over your back.

_____

The next morning comes much faster than you would’ve preferred but waking up in Kirishima’s arms had definitely made the early hours better. His warmth radiated throughout everything around him, even asleep. You look at the clock and realize you have 45 minutes before you actually need to be up and decide to repay Kirishima for his little Ferris wheel stunt. You roll your hips back against the prominent bulge sitting against your ass, smiling when he moans and unconsciously ruts back against you. Thanking whatever sex god exists that you both fell asleep naked, you untangle yourself from his arms ever so slowly and coax him onto his back. Sliding down beneath the sheets, you let your hands ghost down his pecs and abdomen before lightly wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock to give a few teasing pumps. Dipping your head down you lick the bead of pre from his tip before wrapping your lips around the head and sinking down, taking him to the back of your throat.

Grunting from the sensation and canting his hips up, Kirishima wakes and meets your heated gaze with one of his own. He gives you a few deep thrusts before winding his fingers through your hair to grip a handful. Jerking your head up and off his dick, sleep still wrapped around his throat, he asks, “What has my girl so worked up this morning?”

You lick your lips and chuckle, “I had the most amazing dream, Eiji…Nothing but you using me like a doll. All for your pleasure,” you reply, your tongue darting out to lick the seemingly never-ending stream of pre beading and falling from his tip.

Hissing while your tongue connects to the head, he asks, “You wanna be used, Little One? I can make that happen,” he says, gripping your waist and lifting you to straddle him. The feel of the tip of his cock teasing and prodding your core mixed with the desire to fulfill him has you canting your hips in time with him as you feel your arousal soak his length.

“Kiri, please…” you moan, tossing your head back and rocking against his thrusts.

“Tell me what happened, Little One,” slowing his hips to a grind, “Tell me how I can make your dream come true.”

Meeting his gaze, you smirk, “You held my hips and used me, daddy.”

A predatory look passes through his eyes when he does just that, his unintentionally hardened fingers dig into your hips as he slams into you, making you take his full length.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he pants, “Are you sure?” He asks.

Finally regaining some composure you plead, “Please, Kiri…use me,” crashing your lips to his once again.

A tortured groan leaves his lips while his still seemingly unnoticed hardened fingers wrap around your waist. Kirishima lifts you with ease before dropping you onto his cock. A shockingly sadistic smile crosses his face just before he lifts you and starts thrusting. Agonizingly hard strokes knock the breath from your lungs and leave you scratching his chest and moaning, almost screaming, for more. When his calloused hands bring your hips down to meet his thrusts is when you fall apart. Screaming his name unabashedly, drawing blood from how hard your fingernails dig into his shoulders and chest, you unravel. Gushing around his length as he continues to pound into you, he smirks, “Love feeling you cum on my cock, babygirl. Fuck…keep going for me, yeah? Keep grippin’ me til I fill you up. You’re gonna walk around all day with my cum inside you, understand me?”

Your eyes cross as one of his hands snakes down to your clit, rubbing slow, intense circles around the sensitive nerves, bringing you right to the edge again. Kirishima’s hips stutter as you moan his name while his cum coats your walls. Pressing gentle kisses across your shoulders and neck, he picks you up and walks you to the shower.

“Gotta say, Little One, that is now my favorite way to wake up.”

“We’ll have to do it more often then, Kiri.”

_____

Kirishima parks in the garage of the agency and walks with you to the elevator. You’re both greeted by Shoto in the lobby and he calls Kirishima over.

“I wanted to know if you would be okay with switching patrols with me today? I need to discuss a few things with Y/N about our date but I don’t want it to be rushed.”

“Of course, Brodoroki! I don’t mind at all. I will tell you though, that girl is wild so whatever you have planned, I’m sure she’ll be fine with. Hella manly of you to make sure with her though.”

Shoto gives him a small smile before walking over to you, “I just wanted to let you know I would be with you on patrol instead of Kirishima if that’s alright?”

“Of course, Shoto. I don’t mind at all, see you then!”

_____

Shoto leads you through the door of the agency and falls in step with you, “I thought we could use this time to discuss our date tonight if that’s alright with you.”

Genuinely surprised he’s not being as secretive as the others but excited nonetheless you nod your consent with a small hum of acknowledgement.

“I wanted to go last because my tastes are more…specific than Midoriya’s or Kirishima’s. For example, I wrote a list of my interests and you’ll find it on your desk when we get back. If you decide you don’t want to go on this date with me after this talk, I will obviously understand and won’t push. Shall I keep going?” Shoto asks.

The smile you had, so far, kept polite stretches into a grin as you look up at him, “Absolutely you should.”

“It’s really just particular kinks and if the evening should take that route, I wouldn’t want you walking in blind. I wanted to make sure you knew everything.”

Your mind is reeling but you can’t recall a time where such a docile conversation, regardless of the context, had left your panties soaked. Nodding your head you say, “Oh I’m definitely still on board, Shoto.”

“Good. As far as what to expect tonight, I do have a surprise planned for you. Details that would be better discussed in private will be in the list on your desk. I will ask that you read it carefully and thoroughly to ensure your willingness to continue.”

“Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

——-

Never before have you been excited to read a list but here you are practically vibrating with excitement. Opening the letter, you see what Shoto meant about needing to be discussed privately. A list of kinks and things that might happen tonight greeted you first followed by a short message:

‘-Temperature Play

-Branding

-Light degradation

-Sensory Play

-Bondage

-Occasional exhibitionism

-Praise must be earned

-I use the stoplight method and I also require you to have a safeword

If you understand and agree to everything, the garment bag has your outfit for the night. I have a driver waiting for you downstairs.

-S.T.’

There is no way in hell you’re passing up this opportunity so you quickly change into the breathtaking dress and heels Shoto bought for you and make your way to the car.

You reach out and push the button to call the elevator just as a voice calling your name stops you dead in your tracks. Slowly turning your head to the opposite end of the hall toward the offices, your thoughts are confirmed. Bakugo stands in the hallway staring back at you with emotions that you can’t track swirling in his eyes. Mirroring his step forward with a step back you gently shook your head. His eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off before he gets the chance.

“I’m late for a date, Bakugo. I’m not doing this right now.”

Right before the doors of the elevator close, you hear a high pitched voice call out, “Katsuki, baby, who are you talking to? Can we go home yet?”

Bile rises in your throat as the puzzle pieces start to connect. He said he needed time then he just found someone else. Your head spins and your chest aches with the mix of bitterness and dejection wrapping firmly around your heart. The elevator ding snaps you from your spiral and you remember the night you’re about to have. You shake your head, breathe deeply, and shove the pain aside. He’s done enough damage, he’s not about to fuck this up too. You refuse to give him the satisfaction.

The driver opens the door for you with a tip of his head, “Miss,” and closes it behind you. Getting into the driver’s seat, he looks at you through the rear view mirror and asks, “Ready to go?”

You take a deep breath and clear your throat to get rid of the sudden lump of an unwanted emotion, “I am, thank you. You’re not allowed to tell me where we’re going are you Mister…?” A teasing tone lilting your voice.

The driver chuckled, “You can call me Todd and no ma’am, I’m not.”

“Ohhh I figured as much. Oh well, a surprise is just as well and please call me Y/N.”

“Yes, Miss Y/N.”

Shoto, dressed in a red button up shirt, black jacket and pants, stood along the curb awaiting your arrival when his phone chimed. Looking down at the screen he saw a text from Kirishima, “Bakugo is back. He said he ran into Y/N already and he had his girlfriend with him. Just wanted to let you know in case she seems a little off. Good luck, bro!”

Muttering under his breath about Bakugo having perfect timing, he pushed that away when his driver pulled up. Shoto reached out to open your door and offer a hand to you which you eagerly accepted. Looking up at the building you’d arrived at, your jaw dropped slightly and you whipped your head around to look at Shoto.

“Sho, this place is always booked six months in advance. There’s no way we’ll get in,” you insist, looking at the extremely exclusive restaurant in front of you.

A small shrug of his shoulders, “I have my ways. Shall we?”

The hostess greets you both with a smile, “Ah, Mr. Todoroki, your table is ready and waiting for you. I hope you enjoy and as requested, once your food is served, I will be the only one here and I’ll remain here at the host desk. Thank you again for choosing Prim for your night.”

Shoto thanks her and leads you into the dining area where you realize all of the tables have been cleared from the room except one. Pulling out your seat for you, he gives you a small smile and moves to sit across. Dinner is as relaxed as a day at the beach would be and you can’t find it in yourself to wonder why each of these men, with vastly different personalities and qualities, made you feel so at ease. With that ease came a certain…ache but you could shove that to the side for now. You were pretty sure where this night would end up. Shoto, while still his quiet self, is surprisingly open with compliments and light PDA, never missing an opportunity to tell you how breathtaking you look or reach out to gently trace a finger along your jaw or gently hold your hand within his. Conversation flowed easily as well, he asked about America and how you were transitioning back to Japan. He told you about his mom’s recovery and gave you a genuine smile when you expressed how happy you were for him and her. When dessert was brought out, Shoto cleared his throat and fidgeted a little in his seat. You could have sworn it almost looked like he was avoiding your gaze as well.

“Shoto? Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure how to bring this up without ruining the evening. I was debating saying anything at all but I want to make sure we’re on the same page about everything,” he explains.

“Oh, well feel free to ask me anything, Sho. If you’re wondering about after dinner though, I’m still on board if you are.”

“That’s relieving to know but I’m afraid this is more difficult than that. Before I forget, what is your safe word?”

“Water,” you answer, holding his gaze. No doubt showing every ounce of desire swirling through your system.

“Water it is. Now the hard topic. Kirishima texted me before you got here and told me what happened. I guess he ran into Bakugo as well and I just wanted to make sure your decision to go home with me wasn’t influenced by heightened emotions. Not that I don’t trust your judgment, it’s just very important to me that you make that decision with a clear head.”

“Sho, I was sure when we were on patrol. Even more so after I read the note and that was all before I ran into him. I assure you, every decision I’ve made tonight has been made of sound mind and body,” you assure him, your words trailing off into a little giggle. “If you want me to be completely honest, the most it did was shake me a little. I dealt with the emotions and healing already, it just…I guess it just made my heart hurt a bit. One of those things you’d like to forget for however long you can, I suppose.”

“Well then, please allow me to help you forget.”

Shoto slipped under the table and started bunching the skirt of your dress in his hands, working up to your thighs. He moved forward leaving a line of kisses and bites toward your core before flattening his tongue and running in along your seam through your panties.

“Shoto…w-what are you doing,” you stammer.

You would have assumed he was unaffected by the current situation if not for the heated, lust-filled gaze peering back up at you, “Enjoying my dessert while you enjoy yours, obviously. Tell me your safe word again,” Shoto demands, his fingers lightly teasing your already drenched slit through your panties.

“Water.”

A rumble of approval reaches your ears, soaking your panties even more, before he pushes them aside and slowly slides a finger inside you, “Already this wet and I’ve barely touched you. I’m not sure if that’s pathetic or I should take it as a compliment. Take a bite.”

Just as the spoon leaves your mouth, Shoto wraps his lips around your clit, fervently licking and sucking as he adds a second finger, coordinating with his mouth. You swallow before one of the most lewd moans escapes your throat, your cunt clenching around his digits.

“Feel like sharing, Y/N?” Shoto asks, his fingers stalling as he flicks his eyes up to the table. You gather a bite of your dessert and try to steady your quaking hand as you bring it to his lips.

“Mmm, it’s good but, I prefer what I was having,” he says, diving back down to your pussy, lapping and sucking at your clit while his fingers piston and curl inside you.

“Fuck, Sho…please…I need…” you start.

“You need? No, you want to cum. You want me to make you cum, say it.”

“Please, Shoto, I want you to make me cum…”

“Good girl.”

Shoto’s gaze stays locked onto your face as you come undone, reveling in the moans spilling from your lips, committing them to memory. His hands grip the outsides of your trembling thighs while he licks every last drop from your cunt. Humming in satisfaction, he moves your panties back and returns to his seat across from you. Your phone chimes with an alert from the agency, calling you in.

“Shit. Sho, I’m so sorry-“

“No need, baby. Go ahead, I’ll be seeing you soon anyway. Todd is still parked outside. Tell him where to go and he’ll get you there.”

“Thank you, Shoto,” you give him a small but genuine smile and a quick kiss before turning and hurrying to the car.

Shoto pays and calls another driver to pick him up before texting Kirishima and Midoriya in their group chat, “It went very well. She got called into the agency just a moment ago though, so our night got cut short.”

Not a minute later his phone chimes with a text from Kirishima, “Uh, I just got home from the agency. The only one there is Bakugo and nothing is happening in the city that would make someone call her in.”

“I’m on my way there,” Midoriya instantly replies.

“Yeah, same,” from Kirishima.

“I’ll see you both soon then,” Shoto replies, opening the car door before it’s stopped and telling the driver to get to the agency as quickly as possible.

_____

Walking into the agency you’re confused when you don’t hear the chatter of other heroes or ringing phones. Instead, you’re steeped into still waters; not a single sound or movement. Just as you’re about to step into the elevator, your phone rings with a call from Shoto.

“Hey, Sho, is everything okay?”

“I’m afraid not completely, baby. Bakugo is waiting for you upstairs. He’s the one that called you in, there’s nothing going on. The three of us are on our way there and have a plan to pay him back for all he’s done to you if you trust us and agree.”

“Of course he did. I’m down, Sho just tell me what to do.”

_____

Bakugo sits in his office at his desk waiting for the elevator to announce your arrival, sure his plan will work exactly as he needs. Grumbling under his breath about you still never being on time, his eyes dart up when the telltale ding sounds throughout the hallway. Instead of you though, he’s greeted by Midoriya.

“Hey, Kacchan! Just had some last minute paperwork to take care of.”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugo went back to busying himself until you finally decide to show up. He thought it was pretty irresponsible to be so late to a call in from the agency, even if it wasn’t a legitimate matter. Maybe he was being petty. He did have a girlfriend after all, but the way his blood boiled at the thought of you in the arms of another man made all rational thought in his brain evaporate. Five minutes later, the elevator dings again. This time his entire head shoots up only to see Kirishima and Todoroki entering the hall instead of you. Disappointment and frustration make his teeth clench and fists ball. Another ten minutes creep by when a thought strikes him as odd. One of them showing up at random would be normal but the three of them? That’s just weird. Not only that, but they didn’t go into each of their offices, they all went into the conference room. Walking from his office to see what the hell was going on, Bakugo stops when he hears passionate grunts, moans, and the unmistakable sound of skin slapping. Pushing open the door, the sight in front of him shocks him so much all he can do is stand and stare as rage and jealousy flood his body.

_____

As hesitant as you were with this plan, you can now say without a shadow of doubt, you are extremely pleased with yourself for agreeing.

Izuku with a fist gripping your hair as he fucks your mouth with reckless abandon, settling a hand around your throat, “That’s it, Doll. Swallow my cock. Fuck yeah, sweetheart.”

Kirishima fisting his cock while worshiping your tits, switching back and forth to nip and lick at each nipple before biting love marks across your chest and neck while praising you with sinfully dirty remarks and his fingers work your clit, “God look at you, Y/N. Taking their cocks so well, baby girl. Can’t wait until you’re ready to take all of us at the same time. Fuck that’d be a sight…just thinking about your pretty little mouth, tight ass, and perfect cunt being stuffed full and leaking our cum has me so fucking hard.”

Shoto holding your thighs open, almost painfully so, while his cock glides against your walls, thrusting so deep you’re positive he’s fucking your cervix, “Looks like we’ve gathered an audience, baby. I know you’d like to cum, but I think we should really show him who’s little slut you are first, hmm? You want that? You want everyone to know who you belong to?”

Izuku pulls his length from your mouth and moves your head so you can see Bakugo through teary and lust laden eyes before making you look at Shoto, “Please…” you whimper.

A eyebrow raise from Shoto and a particularly sharp bite from Kiri makes you yelp before correcting yourself, “Yes, Sir. Please.”

Kirishima chuckles as Deku continues fucking your throat. Shoto heats his index finger before bringing it to your inner thigh writing an “o”, his thrust never slowing. A “u” quickly follows and by the time he starts the “r” you’re ready to combust. Whines and whimpers slip from you just as Izuku says, “Fuck m’gonna cum. You have to hurry, Shoto.”

“Shit, me too. Gonna paint these pretty tits for you, baby girl.”

Feeling your walls fluttering wildly around his cock, Shoto smirks and finally starts the “s”, he leans down to your ear and whispers, “Cum, baby.” Your wails of pleasure almost drown out the grunts and strings of curses falling from your three men as they each find their release inside or on you. Panting, each of your lovers remove themselves from you, gently helping you stand and redress, whispering sweet affirmations and pouring their love into you as you gather yourself.

As soon as Kirishima is fully dressed once again, he walks to you and picks you up bridal style, starting toward Bakugo who is still frozen with rage in the doorway. Shoto and Izuku follow, each of them sending Bakugo smug smirks as they pass, and join you and Kiri in the elevator. Bakugo finally turns to look in your direction and is met with Izuku’s smug grin, “You might need some time to process that, Bakugo.”

__________

General tags: @fatbitchgeek-blog @sunflowers-rae @totally-not-bakus-hoe @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care @cellophanes-princess @literotica @jems-all-in-a-wood

#bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #izuku x reader #shoto x reader #kirishima smut #deku smut #shoto smut #TPND collab

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charliecoxisdaredevil · 3 years ago

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Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun (Chapter 1)

Matthew Murdock x Reader [✨Series] 18+

(minors do not interact w/ explicitly sexual chapters. But if you do, remember fanfic is a safe but fictional space. Always put your safety first in real life, use protection and communicate. It's my goal to always emulate safe and healthy sexual encounters in my writings.)

Series Themes: fluff, enemies to lovers (very flirty enemies), found family trope, age gap *but not craazy ya know?*, smuuuuty smut smut, angst, canonical injuries (realistic, but nothing graphically described), NWH SPOILERS!!

Chapter Themes: best friend!peter vibes, peter gets to be happy because i said so, cocky mf matt murdock, ?alcohol?, ?Italians?, flirty mf matt murdock, sexual themes (no smut)

Description: Murdock & Nelson were looking for a PA, and you were so sure it would be the best job in the world that you practically begged your best friend Peter to put in a good word for you... Until you realized pleasing the Devil would be hard work.

Excerpt: "Being friends with Peter Parker has its own special quirks. Its' ups and downs. Its' Star Wars marathons and near death experiences. I love Peter and I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything. Even after all the peril and drama and stupidity of being best friends with a 25 year old boy, nothing has ever made me lose love for our friendship…

But if Matthew Murdock throws one more goddamn file on my desk right at 6pm, before waltzing out of the office; Peter is a dead man."

Chapter 1:

Peter Parker is a dead man.

He’s the one who got me this job. The one who sent me to this hell.

Did I beg for him to get me this job? Okay, yes yes- BUT as my friend he should’ve known that this fucker was going to drive me crazy. Where is that goddamn “spidey-sense” when you actually need it?

And I ask Peter exactly that when I’m across the table from him, sipping on a strong drink after working away three hours of my life for free.

“Well that’s a thing right there you should bring up,” Peter points his beer in my direction across the table.

I pin him with a deserved incredulous look, “What thing?!”

He anxiously hunches over the table and makes twitchy movements with his hands as he tries to articulate a defense, even though we both know this really isn’t his fault.

It’s that fucker Murdock’s.

“The- the working overtime for free thing! You should talk to him and Mr. Nelson about at least getting some kind of compensation. Or- or you know I could talk to them for you! I mean it’s only fair since I got you into this whole mess.”

Poor Peter looks at me with guilty eyes and a very wrinkled forehead, so I reign in my urge to unjustly take my anger out on one of my only friends who did an incredibly big favor for me.

It was my idea to explore non-vigilante career options and it was my suggestion that working for the least corrupt legal group in town would not only keep me fed and give me skills other than crime fighting. Working for attorneys is a great way to keep your finger on the pulse of crime.

I smile kindly and put a hand over Peter’s reassuringly, “I’m sorry Pete, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t get me into anything. You did me a huge favor, and you shouldn’t have to solve my problems for me.”

He squeezes my hand in understanding, “Yeah I know… I just can’t help it sometimes. You’re like a sister to me, and I mean I owe so much to Mr. Murdock but- but I mean I can’t believe the type of crap he’s putting you through! He’s always been such a nice guy!”

And I can’t even be mad with Peter’s disbelief that Matthew Murdock could be anything but a godsend. The man saved Peter and Happy from twenty five to life in a federal prison, he’s locked up some of the most despicable people to ever have the audacity to roam the Earth and he does it for next to nothing.

Hell, I thought the man was an angel after everything I’d heard. It’s when we met that I finally saw him for the devil he was.

We sit in contemplative silence for a while, Peter’s still in disbelief while I stew in my annoyance.

“Well, if anything you should tell them to at least wait around for you if they’re gonna make you stay till after dark. It’s not safe for you to be walking home alone so late at night,” Peter looks me over with a paternally furrowed brow and a shake of his head as he takes another swig of his beer.

This pulls an amused smirk and a breathy laugh out of me, “Pete… I think Spider-Girl can handle walking ten blocks by herself. And if she can’t, maybe she should look into a different profession.”

Peter frenetically looks around the bar, like someone in this dive is able to hear me over Måneskin blasting through the ratty speakers or is even slightly interested in a conversation between two worn out, poor but professional looking 20 somethings.

“Would you please take the secret identity thing more seriously,” he manically whispers at me.

I take a long sip of my gin and tonic, “How am I not taking it seriously? C’mon Peter no one can hear us because the music is slowly turning everyone deaf, and I haven’t told anyone else but you!”

“First off, you didn’t tell me. I found out because you thought it was low-key to crawl up the basement walls when the laundry room flooded,” I roll my eyes in annoyance, once again, because he will never let that story go.

“And second, I’m just saying you need to be more careful. This… identity doesn’t affect just you. It affects everyone you love-”

I cut him off to bitterly say, “Well ya know Pete that’s not a very long list, and I’m not too worried about the one person on it because he can also climb walls.”

We sit in silence by my doing for the second time tonight, but this time I don’t budge and stubbornly stare back at him.

Peter’s eyes soften and he’s the first to break the silence this time, “All I’m saying… is that one of these days the wrong person will hear you and it’s going to screw up your life. Forever.”

That look of past tragedy in his eyes makes me drop mine to my fidgeting hands cradled in my lap.

“Believe me. I know.”

I look back up at him in shame from being so insensitive, “I’m sorry Peter… I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

We share a look of truce, “It’s okay… Look. On the bright side, if everything had never happened to me I wouldn't have found you! And I got MJ back,” he smiles and blushes at the thought of her, “and Ned back and everything worked out for me in the end.”

He tiredly sighs, “I just- I just don’t want you to have to work anything out.”

Nodding my head in appreciation and agreement, I take my glass and clink it lightly against his, “Good speech Dad. Aren’t I great practice for when you and MJ have wonderful, mischievous spider-babies?”

Peter spits up some of his beer, “Alright. You’re done. You’re done.”

We both break out in laughs, “God, I’m so sorry for being such a pain tonight. Tomorrow morning I promise I’m gonna go straight to Foggy and Karen and… ugh, Murdock and demand my very much earned overtime.”

A proud smile stretches across Peter’s face and he reaches across the table to clink our glasses again, “Now that I’ll cheers to!”

“Why do the spider-babies not deserve cheers?”

“Oh my god, ENOUGH with the spider-babies!”

~ ~ ~

Waking up in my cramped, frigid apartment the next morning, I have renewed purpose.

I’m not going to let Murdock push me around any longer. I’m going to walk in there, march right up to Foggy and demand fair treatment. He’s a logical and just boss, I’m sure he’ll see my side no problem…

But, if I’ve learned anything from Foggy, bribery with free coffee and pastries to warm the palette is never a bad move.

It’s freezing out today, so I shimmy into my favorite wool pencil skirt. And while squeezing into my nicest turtleneck, I’m reminded of the aching bruise I earned during last night's crime fighting session that takes up most of the real estate on the right side of my back.

What a great reminder to look where I’m swinging next time in case the city decides to plant another new lamp post.

After lots of wincing and groaning, I have successfully dressed myself for the day. I throw on a coat, grab my bag and bumble out of the raggedy apartment building towards my second home, Anton’s Coffee Shop on the corner of 10th Ave and West 42nd Street.

Anton’s is this teeny coffee “shop” that’s more like a broom closet, but it’s the best espresso you can get in fifty blocks and the owner, Tony, always treats me to a free biscotti. Being within a reasonable walking distance to this place is one of the only benefits of moving into Hell's Kitchen when Peter officially moved in with MJ last month.

“Stellina! Come sta?!,” Tony is furiously wiping down the countertop but his sweet face pops up to greet me.

Tony’s a tall, thin man with dark tanned skin, sparkling green eyes and a wonderfully white beard. He’s one of the longest friendships I’ve ever had, and he is absolutely insane.

I take my gloves off and root around in my bag for my wallet, “Morning Tony! I’m good, how’re you?”

But he merely tsk’s me, “Stellina! In Italiano! Per favore!” Tony starts to make my usual coffee order while accosting me.

“Spiacente, spiacente umm… Buongiorno Tony,” he looks up and eagerly nods in encouragement, “Io sono buono e… come sta?”

Tony’s recently started teaching me Italian because I wanted to learn and also because he wants to set me up with a “friend’s son’s cousin’s step-brother.”

He smiles and finishes making my oat milk latte, which he relentlessly bullies me for because “This is not latte?! This is water?!”, but he continues to make the drink for me every morning regardless.

“Very good Stellina! I will make an Italiana out of you someday, eh?” He pops two biscotti in a paper bag and hands me my coffee.

I take the goodies gladly, “Someday, Tony. Now I’ll need three more coffees today if you can, per favore, make another one of my regulars, two double shot lattes and throw in a few more biscotti.”

He gasps comically at me while he gathers more cups, “Dio! Has my stellina made friends?”

I laugh at his dramatics, “No, no these are for my bosses. I need to bribe two of them with your magic caffè so they’ll convince the other to stop being such an ass.”

Tony nods in understanding as he flits around behind the espresso machine, pulling levers like a madman, “Ah and the third coffee,” he holds up a cup and points to it, “this is for the ass?”

“Yeah unfortunately I can’t leave him out. It’ll just give him another reason to make my life, come si dice… hell?”

He’s frothing the milk for Matt’s drink, “Inferno.”

“Inferno,” I say matter of factly as he rings me up and I place the coffees in a cardboard tray.

Tony hums, “Well, nipote, if anyone is making your life un Inferno then they will be hearing from me.” He hands me my change along with my extra biscottis and I smile gratefully at his conviction.

“Thank you Tony,” I tuck the change into his tip jar, “Next time I’ll let you spit in his coffee.”

~ ~ ~

By the time I get to the office I’m still five minutes early, and I’m hoping Murdock has pulled his usual arrogant stunt of strolling in late so I can plead my case to Foggy and Karen alone first.

Before going inside I stand in front of the frosted door, giving myself a firm pep talk. You deserve this. You deserve respect. You’re going to wipe that unfortunately handsome smirk right off of Murdock’s face.

Balancing the tray in one hand I open the door with the other and the smile is wiped right off of my face as I see Matthew lounging front and center. He’s leaned back onto Karen’s desk in his usual well tailored suit that stretches over his broad thighs, and If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was staring right at me with that stupid fucking smirk, like he knew I was about to walk in.

But thankfully he can’t because someone drawing up fate’s design knew this man would cause too much trouble if he had all his senses.

“Ah the chosen one! She brings us sustenance,” Foggy emerges from the kitchenette to my right and rubs his hands together, “What’d we do to deserve such free tastiness?”

I pop one of the double shots out of the container and hand him the biscotti bag. “Well… I just,” I see Murdock is still phantomly staring through me, still wearing that godforsaken smirk and my conviction crumbles.

“I just thought… it would be a nice pick me up on such a cold day.”

Foggy hmm’s and nods his head as he devours Tony’s legendary almond biscotti and takes the rest of the bag into his office.

As he leaves Karen flies out of the conference room and into the waiting area, “Ooh not shit coffee, thank god!” I pull the other double shot out of my container before handing it over to her, “There’s also some almond biscotti, but you might want to get in there before Foggy inhales them.”

She gasps and scurries into Foggy's office all the while shouting that he’d better save some for her or he’ll have to start killing the spiders in his office himself.

And just like that, suddenly I’m alone. With the asshole.

“So,” here we go, “I see you take after Foggy with the subtle bribery approach,” Matt shoots over his shoulder as he walks through the doorway into his office before settling into his desk chair.

And just like that, I am in Inferno.

I choose to ignore his comment and walk towards the arrogant son of a bitch. I go around to set the third coffee on the desk next to his hand, “Here’s your coffee. It’s a double shot oat milk latte.” He furrows his brow in confusion since he’s never made me be a lackey for his coffee and therefore, has never told me his preference for oat milk. It’s one of the few pieces of my dignity I have left.

“I saw you added an oat milk carton to the fridge,” which is not entirely untrue, but I can’t tell him the real source of my information. That I saw him buy said oat milk at the same bodega Spider-Girl had promised the owner, Señor Flores, she'd watch over while his teenage nephew worked the night shift.

Matthew tilts his head up and a gust of heat from the air vents consumes me in his fresh scent before his hand suddenly yet tenderly grips my wrist. He’s smiling up at me, it almost seems genuine. Grateful.

The thing that makes this man all the more infuriating is how fucking handsome he is.

It’s despicable.

“Don’t I get a cookie too?,” he smiles up at me as his thumb brushes against the inside of my wrist.

My heartbeat picks up and I want to say I’m glad he can’t see the instant flush of my cheeks at his touch, but his smile still seems to grow deeper.

I try to regain my composure and take back control, “That depends. Do you think you’ve earned a cookie?”

He chuckles darkly and leans in, grasping my wrist a bit tighter, “What? Don’t you think I’ve been a good boy?”

Well, if he didn’t know my heart was racing before he can definitely feel it flying off the handle now with his firm grip on my pulse.

My mouth goes dry but my lips are wet, and my present arousal is eerily followed by a subtle flare in Matt’s nostrils and a stuttered rise of his chest. His mouth parts and his tongue interrupts heavy breaths by darting out to wet his flushed lips.

“Matty, stop torturing the office angel and come help me with these opening remarks please!”

Foggy’s distant call from behind his closed office door snaps both of us back to reality and I begin to lean away from him, but Matt still doesn’t release my wrist.

He simply waits, and I finally give in as I wrap one of my biscotti in a napkin and place it on his desk.

“Thank you,” he smiles up at me again but doesn’t move for the biscotti. “It smells so good,” but still doesn’t release me, “I know it tastes even better.”

My eyes widen in disbelief and I lightly gasp at what I think I’m hearing or possibly imagining, but Foggy covers the involuntary sound with another yell for Matt’s assistance.

Matt turns his head towards the door and shouts back, “Coming,” before turning back to face me, “Would you be an angel and transcribe these affidavits for me?”

I stare back at him pulling myself together. But before I can respond he purses his lips, like the most perfect red rose, and rumbles out a husked, “Please?”

My mouth gapes a bit as I try to blink myself back to reality, I nod dumbly before shaking my head like an idiot, “Um, yes! Sorry, yes.”

He releases me finally, and I’m grateful to be able to breathe again. Then he hands me a stack of papers, plucks the coffee from its spot and struts towards Foggy’s office.

Did he just call me an angel? No sorry, was he flirt- No, no way… no way…

I look down at the uneaten biscotti, then back up at Matt’s retreating figure.

No, I’m sorry, did Matthew Motherfucker Murdock just say “please”? To me?

- - -

Let me know if y'all want to be ?tagged? in this series for updates I guess?? I've never uploaded works to tumblr before, so please give me grace. this is a learning experience.

#nwh spoilers #matt murdock x reader #best friend!peter parker #matt murdock #matthew murdock x reader #peter parker #no way home spoilers #peter parker x mj

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fatalitysficbakery · 3 years ago

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Hrs and Hrs. (Songfic. ADA!Sonny Carisi x Black AFAB Detective!Reader)

Genre: Fluffy/Smut.

Warnings: Talks of Incest, Abuse, and Pedophilia. None just sleepy fluffy smut and sweet aftercare. Slight Breeding Kink.

Synopsis: After stressful jobs sometimes all you and your husband Carisi need is each other. To take care of one another.

❤︎ Heaven’s Baked Goods (Masterlist) ❤︎

It was stressful, your jobs were those that not many could stomach. Seeing such violence against kids, women, minorities, etc. It was a struggle but you had each other’s backs. You and Sonny. That was until he became an ADA, you saw him a lot less but he’d be there when you guys had a case for him and you couldn’t deny how amazing he looked in his suits. You’d been married for a year now, meeting while working as SVU Detectives, at first you were sure he was crushing on Rollins until figuring out she was helping him plan to ask you out and helping you both sneak around until you were both ready to go through the whole fiasco of telling Benson. When you did it went better than you thought it would, although Benson and the team confessed that they knew something was up in the first place. Sonny couldn’t hide his love for you well.

Nowadays, it was a struggle for either of you to come home without crashing into bed and cuddling to sleep instantly. No date nights, no sex, you desperately missed your husband and he missed you. Sometimes in his office, he’d watch your wedding tapes and reminisce. You looked so goddamned gorgeous that night, you knocked the air out of Sonny’s lungs. He couldn’t stop telling you how gorgeous you were all night, your first dance spent with him whispering sweetly in your ear about how much he loved and adored you, how beautiful you are. That night, he made love to you until the morning arrived all while whispering sweet nothings about your beauty, how he could barely control himself, along with those beautiful grunts, groans, and absolutely delicious moans that were so uniquely his. It was magical.

———————————————————————

“I don’t usually this, but, uh. Can I sang to you? Yeah Yeah”.

You loved the days Benson sent you and Dodds to go get warrants from Carisi, a chance to see him while working was always an opportunity to get a kiss or two before going back to busting perps. Dodds always knew to stay in the car while you went up, being a family man himself he understood the need for at least a moment of intimacy. He was an amazing partner, and trusted you deeply so he knew you could do it alone. Knocking on the door, a grin big on your face, faltering a little when you saw the state of your husband. Shoulders tensed, forehead creased, and brows furrowed. He looked so stressed, it made your heart clench.

“Hey, Son. I, uh, came to get the dna warrant for the Lillard case” You spoked meekly, softly, not wanting to irritate or startle him. His head looked up from the pile of paper on his desk, eyes immediately softening when he saw you. He’d known you’d be coming soon so the warrant was already there for you but what he really needed was a hug, a kiss, just to see your face. You saw that familiar look on his face, it was one of need. Not for sex but for affection. You knew it well because it was reflected on your own face. Stressed, working a case about incest, abuse, and pedophilia. An 11-year-old who’d disclosed that it was her brothers baby but with how protective the parents were and how easily they’d pinned it on the boy and a new disclosure that it was the fathers baby. You had finally had enough to get DNA warrants to prove that the baby was either the fathers or the sons.

“Yours, Mines, Ours. I could do this for hours. Sit and talk to you for hours”.

“Doll, ya look beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous”. Sonny spoke complimenting you as if he hadn’t watched you get dressed this morning. His voice had always been a favorite of yours. Smokey and a little raspy but this time exhaustion lie underneath. You could hear it in his voice, he desperately needed a break and a lot of hugs and kisses. Maybe even a massage. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile weakly, “You look good too, Risi. A little tired though”. pecking his lips, he sighs in relief feeling your touch, being this close to you. He missed it.

“I am…These cases are wearing me thin. I’ve seen more CP than I’d like to admit and my heart is breaking for these families, Doll. I’m ready for the day to be over wi-” You cut him off, shushing him. Carisi sighed, leaning his head on your shoulder. You simply held him, patted his back before you knew you had to go. Looking into his eyes, you fell in love all over again, he was your king.

“I’m sorry I have to go, love but…I’ll see you at home. I hope we can at least eat before we both pass out”. You giggled and stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his for once last kiss before leaving.

———————————————————————

“I wanna give you your flowers, and some champagne showers”.

When you got home that night, you were tired but your main concern was Sonny. You loved him deeply and wanted to do something sweet for him, something special. After cooking dinner; Lobster, Steak, Steamed Brocoli, and Potatoes. You lit some candles in the bathroom near the bathtub. You had also made a fruit platter and two bottles of champagne. Tonight would be all about him. You didn’t dress up sexily or anything, you know he enjoyed when you wore his clothing so you put on one of his shirts and a pair of thigh high socks that ended just above your knee, showing a bit of a thigh peeking from the shirt and your socks. He was in love with your thighs.

When he came through the door that night, he wasn’t expecting to see you in the kitchen, fixing two plates for dinner, moving around the kitchen looking effortlessly beautiful in his t-shirt, his eyes immediately trailed down to your ass and legs. Sonny was a gentleman but he was still a man, and seeing his woman setting the table, her ass just barely poking out from under his shirt. He felt more awake than he had before arriving home. You spun around to see him and ran up to him immediately, squeaking. Dropping his briefcase, he catches you, spinning you around, a chuckle bubbling in his throat.

“What’s all this, Amore”? You wrapped your limbs around him, clinging tightly. He didn’t mind, his love language was reassurance, touch, and affection. To him this was the best welcome home he could’ve asked for. To be hugged by you, inhaling your perfume while you kissed every available part of his skin that you could find. His smile could get no bigger.

“I just thought that you deserved to come home to something special. Tonight’s all about you, Son. C’mon let’s eat”.

The last thing on Sonny’s mind was food but he digressed.

“Order Shrimp and Lobster towers, but it’s me that gets devoured”.

———————————————————————

When dinner was over, you ran a bath for you and Sonny and Sonny was enjoying the view of you bent over the tub, removing his suit and tie before joining you in the bathroom. You flinched a bit when you stood up and felt him behind you, about to scold him when he started placing sweet kisses down your neck, whispering just like he did on your wedding night, “Thank ya, Doll. Truly, doing this for me…Ya didn’t have to at all”. you shook your head, turning to face him, you caressed his cheek and pecked his lips twice.

“You deserve this, big dope. I’d do it daily if I could”. You were sweet, loving, but he could see it in your face. The stress and tiredness. You could both use a little TLC and he intended to make this night about not one but both of you. In his eyes you deserved this more than anyone. You were the strongest person he knew, “Ya’know…No one deserves this quite like you do, Pet”. when he said the name, that familiar pooling in your stomach happened, but you let nothing on. Didn’t react, just hugged him before pulling away and moving to get undressed. No big surprise that Carisi watched you the entire time, nearly forgetting to take off his own boxers in the process.

“Ouu, When you do what you do. I’m empowered. You give me a superpower. Together the world could be ours”.

The entire bath was spent with you reveling in each other’s company, you bathed one another, washed each other’s hair and just sat there, soaked, and talked to one another. Conversation dwindled down into sweet kisses, which turned into Carisi groping all over your body yet in the most tender ways. Suddenly, You were both out of the tub and Carisi was carrying you into the bedroom, lying you down gently, he crawls in beside you, kissing up your shoulder. Usually your sex was rough, sometimes it was love-making but tonight it was different. Both were exhausted and overworked. You needed something quick, slow, sleepy. Just needing each other’s touch .

“You sit me up on the counter. Instantly it’s thunder showers, storming for a couple hours. When we’re finished take a shower”.

Your back against his chest, him sliding into you slowly, unprotected since you were ovulating and you’d been trying for a kid for months now. The first slow pump woke you up a little more, your body now focused on the new sense of pleasure it was getting. He took his time, holding you against him and pressing kisses to your hair, he grunts softly, “God, ya feel so good, Doll. I missed this, fucking into you. Feeling ya grip me so good…You’re perfect for me. So perfect”.

“I could do this for hours and hours and hours x8”.

Sonny was most definitely vocal in bed, his hips rolled deeply into you and with each thrust a moan dripped from either of your lips, grunts and groans coming from him occasionally. You always swelled with pride knowing you could make Sonny feel so good. One of his hands moves to your nipple rolling it between his fingers while the other came up to rest on your throat lightly, “Fuck, Son. I missed you inside me like this… Fuck a baby into me, Counselor”.

“Usually I don’t like nobody, and when I say nobody I mean nobody. All these niggas full of shit, You just a homie once they hit. I felt like giving up on love…These niggas almost made me quit”.

Sonny absolutely loved being called Counselor by you in bed. Sometimes when you called him counselor on the job, he had to restrain himself from dragging you away, being reminded of you moaning it while underneath him or tied up, against the wall, etc. His pace sped up slightly, you were both on the edge after not having sex for awhile. The hand that was on your nipples moved to your clit and whispered in your ear, feeling you clench around and your body tensing up, “Ya gonna cum, Doll? C’mon, cum for me, Puppy”.

“Then I met you, When I met you. I knewww this was it. I’d never been in love like this”.

Lights blinding, your eyes squeezed shut, your legs quivered with the force of your orgasm, your chest rose and fell quickly and Carisi loved every second of your moaning and you coming undone on his cock, “F-fuck. I can barely move, Princess. Yuh doing such a good job for me, Doll. So. Fuckin’. Good”. he grunted, growling deep in his chest as he orgasmed, releasing his seed deep into your cunt, “Gonna fuckin’ impregnate ya. Ya hear me? Gonna Fuck my baby into that pretty little pussy”.

It was as if he’d been pent up for years, load after load of cum filled you to the brim, spilling out onto the bed. When he finally stopped, you’d came again.

———————————————————————

“A love like ours, I pray for it on my knees. Every night for some hours, and hours, and hours. x4”

Soon after, he’d gotten up and got a towel to clean up while you lie there in bed, smiling. Carisi really was the perfect lover. The perfect gentleman and absolutely amazing in bed. When he came back, he was smiling. He was not only holding a towel but some snacks and drinks. You rolled your eyes playfully and sat up, blushing when you felt his cum leak out of you which in turn made him smirk.

“Hey, Doll. I brought a a warm wet rag and snacks. We’re gonna watch Encanto while we fall asleep, sound good”? He smiled gently, crawling into bed with you, kissing your lips he uses the wet cloth to clean you up before wiping himself off and bringing you into his arms.

“I love you, Son”.

You said quietly as he turned on the movie. He sighed in content, he’d needed this. You’d needed this. A special moment between the two of you. Perfect.

“I love you more, Amore”.

“What’s yours is mine, and ours, and yours, mine, and ours”.

———————————————————————

“I could sit and talk to you for hours, Sit and look at you for hours, Making love to you for hours. Laying on your chest for hours, Tellin’ you jokes for hours, Holdin’ you close for hours and hours and hours”.

A week or two after your encounter with Risi, you were feeling sick, puking, and thought it might be time to take a test. Carisi stood by you waiting for the time to go down so you could see if it finally worked.

“Fuck, I’m sweating. I really hope it worked this time, Baby. We’ve been trying so hard”. You sat on the countertop, Sonny standing between your legs, his arms resting on your shoulders. He had to admit, he was nervous too. He’d always dreamed of being a father and he wanted it more now that he was with you.

“We’ll try again if it didn’t, Doll. Promise ya. Gives me a chance and an excuse to keep fucking my wife into our mattress”. He nibbled at your ear, grinning hearing you giggle and push him away teasingly. The timer startled you both when it went off, grabbing it you looked at Carisi with nervousness in your eyes, picking up the tests. You looked at your husband one last time before looking down at the tests. You saw two lines one and the other simply said ‘pregnant’.

Looking up from the tests, you stared at him is disbelief, simply muttering a small, “We’re pregnant”. Those two words set off a sugar rush in Sonny, he picked you up and spun you around, laughing at your squeals and giggles before finally putting you down. Leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, happiness shone on his face, a healthy glow on yours.

“We’re gonna be parents, Belleza…We’re gonna be parents”.

Staring into each other’s eyes, you both realized you’d finally achieved happiness and you decided there and then that you could be with him for hours and hours and never grow tired of his prescience.

“Hours and hours and hours…”

———————————————————————

A/N: Lazy little scenario because Sonny deserves the absolute best.

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

Text

A Beautiful Darkness (3)

Summary: Bucky and Steve meet another super soldier with a dark past and an unpredictable vicious nature. Both are drawn inexplicably to the woman who was now temporarily joining their team to help take down an enemy that had once again reared its ugly head.

Fandoms: Avengers

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: SMUT (DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE BELOW 18), Angst, Dry Dark Humour, Unapologetic Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Lots of Cussing, Torn Limbs, Biscuit Thievery, Choking, Unprotected Sex (don’t be an idiot. use protection. always!), All the Kinks, All the Sin, Degradation, Sub-Dom Themes, Forced Orgasms, Oversensitivity, Just Filth

A/N: I need a moment. I’m screaming! And I wrote this mess. Nomad Steve Rogers just hits different.

Masterlist

3: The Control of a Captain

Your feet tapped incessantly on the floor and you cracked your knuckles repeatedly. You sighed in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour.

"Steve," you groaned as you banged your head against the wall. You closed your eyes as you continued to fidget with a Rubik's Cube. You had solved and resolved the damn thing 47 times already. You wanted to chuck it out the window at this point.

"Yeah?"

"I'm so fucking bored."

He chuckled as he continued to watch the building two streets down. The plan was to pretend to still believe the lies Hydra were planting, sending a small group to the decoy bases and purposely failing to get anything of worth. Another group dug up intel the traditional way outside of the SHIELD and Avengers network which meant physically stalking possible leads. You and Steve had unluckily drawn stakeout duty on Allan Levy's supposed hideout.

Logically it made sense to have you there. You were both too recognizable to trail people, but if the lead turned out true and you were made then you could easily hold the frontline until the rest arrived. But you were just so bored. You had been watching the goddamn building for two days now and there has been no movement or suspicious activity. You were praying for some kind of gun fight to break out. Anything to break the monotony. You would settle for a minor fist fight or even a drug deal. Anything.

"Sorry I'm not more pleasant company," he teased.

You snorted. If anything the only redeeming quality of this assignment was his presence. You appreciated the fact that he had grown out his hair and beard again. There was just something about him this way that lent a magnetic dangerous edge to him, far from the apple pie Captain America that the public first met. He looked more than just a damn snack, he was a full course meal of a man. If only the brooding Captain wasn't such a professional then you would definitely be taking advantage of his pleasant company. He was on mission mode though; focused on the task handed to him and always poised to fight at a moment's notice.

"Can we at least play a game please?" you pleaded. "Play with me, Steve."

There was now a wicked glint in your eyes when you saw his jaw tick at your choice of words. He wasn't as unaffected by you as he led on.

"Let's play truth or dare," you suggested.

He shook his head immediately. He had only just met you, but he could easily guess how quickly that game can escalate with you involved. You whined again and the sound was starting to stir less than appropriate things in Steve.

"Fine. 20 questions then. I'm sure there are plenty of things you would like to know about me and I have a few for you too."

He mulled it over. He looked through his binoculars once more and saw nothing at the enemy's hideout. Even the audio surveillance you had planted was returning nothing good. The game seemed harmless enough and even he had to admit that he was getting bored as well. He nodded and you squealed in delight.

"Awesome! I'll go first," you said. "Are you fucking Bucky?"

He choked on air. He was sorely mistaken. This game was not harmless. Apparently nothing was with you.

"What?" he spluttered, his face turning red. "No. Why would you ask that?"

"I don't want to step on anyone's toes or anything because I for one am definitely fucking Bucky," you shrugged. "And that counts as your question so my turn again. Have you ever shared a woman with Bucky?"

Steve's earns burned and he was sure he looked red as a tomato with your unexpected line of questioning. He has never been asked these types of questions and he wasn't sure how to react. You were so blunt and direct that it completely threw him off.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N. What is with your questions?" He shook his head and cleared his throat. "No, I have never shared a woman with Bucky."

"Would you like to start now?"

Steve felt like all the oxygen in his body had been drained from him. He couldn't believe that his best friend's girl was asking him these questions. He was having an internal battle, struggling between his moral compass saying he shouldn't overstep with a woman who was clearly not his and his more baser instincts telling him you would look even more beautiful choking on his cock.

You took great pleasure in how flustered he had become. He looked downright scandalized by your questions. Taking advantage of the opportunity while he was trying to decide on how to respond, you made your way to him with slow deliberate steps. He watched the sultry sway of your hips and the inviting sparkle in your eyes. His brain short circuited when you wound your arms around his shoulders and straddled him.

Steve's eyes dilated and you could hear the pounding of his chest. You ran a hand through his soft blonde hair, purposely dragging your nails just the tiniest bit on his scalp. You purred and pressed your hips further down on his growing erection. His own hands moved on their own to grip your ass. He was hypnotized by your scent and the feel of your warm body against his.

"Bucky was right. You respond better to a more direct approach."

He snapped out of the spell you put him under and froze under you. He looked angry and hurt for a moment. "Bucky put you up to this?"

"No one puts me up to anything, Steve," you chuckled. You ran your hands on his hard chest and wide shoulders until he relaxed once more. "But Bucky did say that you would prefer a direct and honest proposition."

He started to melt back into the haze with each stroke of your hands and wind of your hips. You smiled sweetly as you saw his eyes glaze over.

"You haven't answered my question." He shivered when you nibbled on his ear. "Would you like to share me with your best pal, Captain?"

That did it. His pupils blew up until only a thin blue ring remained. You smirked. It seemed like America's golden boy had a few kinks you were surely going to enjoy exploring.

His hand shot up to fist your hair, pushing you down to crash your lips to his. His tongue forced your mouth open and you moaned at how dominating he was. His other hand gripped tight on your hip, keeping you in place as he thrust his straining cock against your clothed core. You struggled to catch your breath when he roughly pulled you apart. Your clothes felt restricting and the fabric was burning your skin. His eyes on you were predatory.

"Tell me you want this, sweetheart," he said his voice gravelly. "Because once I start I'm not going to stop."

You were careful to keep eye contact to reassure him that you trusted him completely. To assure him that he didn't need to hold back. Not with you. Never with you.

"I want this. I need you, Steve."

The growl he let out was animalistic and you felt the vibrations as he conquered your mouth once more. You barely registered the sound of him hurriedly unbuckling his belt until he had pulled you off again and your mouth watered at the sight of his freed cock.

"On your knees," he commanded.

"Yes, Captain."

You slid off him and obeyed; on your knees, hands behind your back, patiently waiting for his next instructions. His cock grew impossibly harder at the sight of you. You were the human equivalent of a violent wildfire and yet here you were, still and compliant. For him. He gripped his cock and painted your lips with its wet tip.

"Open that pretty mouth for your Captain."

You opened up slowly not breaking eye contact. Both of you had assumed wrong about the other. You thought Steve would gradually feed you his sizeable member, but instead he rammed the entire thing into you until it hit the back of your throat. On instinct you pushed at his thighs but he held you in place by the back of your head. He moaned loudly when you choked and swallowed around him.

Steve thought you would look beautiful gagging on his cock but now that he's actually seen it you looked fucking ethereal. He pulled out leaving a trail of spit. You only had a moment to take a few gasping breaths before he was abusing your mouth once more.

"Good girl. You're taking my cock so well, sweetheart."

You preened at his praise, feeling yourself soak through your panties. He held your head in place with both hands as he fucked your mouth, the brutal pace making your eyes water. You relaxed your throat and stuck out your tongue to accommodate him better. You breathed through your nose and watched enraptured as Steve lost himself in the warmth of your mouth.

You choked hard and struggled when he unexpectedly shoved himself deeper into your mouth, your nose hitting his pelvis and his cum shooting straight down your throat.

"Fuck!" he yelled as he rode out his climax.

When he pulled out you opened your mouth to proudly show him that you had swallowed every drop. He smirked darkly at you and grabbed you by the neck to raise you up on your feet. He rewarded you with a messy kiss and a sharp bite on your lower lip before he tossed you onto the bed.

"I'm going to enjoy ruining you, sweetheart," he mumbled as he pulled your clothing off you. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Left in only your flimsy panties, he turned you around and lifted your hips off the mattress. Your face pressed into the mattress and your ass was high in the air presented to him like a prize. You yelped as you felt a sharp smack on your bottom followed by his hand rubbing roughly at your heat.

"Bucky was soft on you, wasn't he? He's always been the gentler and more considerate one between us, but that's not what you need right now. Am I right, darling?"

He was kneading your ass with one hand while his hand rubbed faster. Your body was buzzing with pleasure and your hips moved to press closer to his hand. Your mind was starting to go hazy, too distracted by the wonderful friction. Another smack jolted you to attention.

"Answer!"

"Yes! You're right, Captain."

A high pitched moan came from you when he pushed your panties to the side and slid two fingers in. The pace he started with was fast and exactly what you needed. You were more than ready. Your juices already coating your thighs and your orgasm already on the brink.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart. You hear that? You hear how fucking wet you are for me?"

You could only answer with another moan as his fingers moved faster. One little curl of his fingers and you came tumbling down, clamping on his fingers, arching your back as the spasms travelled through your body.

Proving that he and Bucky were indeed best friends, Steve didn't let up and instead inserted another finger and added his tongue lapping from your cunt to your puckered hole. You screamed and your thighs shook as another orgasm immediately followed.

"Shit! Stop. Please!"

"One more," he growled against your sopping heat.

You practically jumped off the bed when he reached around to rub rough circles on your clit with his thumb. You clawed at the sheets and tried to regain control of your own body. You were powerless when yet another orgasm was ripped from you.

"Fuck, Steve!"

You were still in the middle of your last orgasm when he quickly exchanged his fingers with his rock hard cock, burying himself until his tapered hips slammed against your ass. He groaned as he felt the end of your orgasm pulse around him. Your knees gave out and the only thing holding you up was Steve's hands on your hips.

"Goddamn, sweetheart. You feel even better than I imagined." His thrusts were relentless, easily slipping in and out from all the cum. "This is what you want, huh? You wanted to be fucked stupid, darling?"

He pounded into you and the knot in your core tightened with each filthy word that spilled from his mouth. He pulled you hard against him meeting his thrusts. You tried desperately to clutch at anything to steady yourself, the oversensitivity frying your brain. He rolled his hips into you, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars.

Your body convulsed and instinctively tried to move away, but Steve pulled you upright with a hand to your neck until your back was flush against his front. He turned your head to meet him in a punishing kiss as he palmed roughly at your breasts. You struggled in his arms as he continued to thrust into you. He bit into your neck and growled.

"Mine!"

"No more," you sobbed. "I can't. Please."

"Just one more, darling. You can give me one more."

You shook your head even as his hand slid down your body to rub and pinch at your clit. You let out a strangled scream as your walls gripped him, already responding to his will.

You gave up all control and surrendered everything to him. You had needed to be in control of everything in your life for so long with only yourself to rely on. You've had to take care of yourself. You've had to be strong for yourself. You've had to keep yourself safe. You were exhausted. Offering yourself to Steve was liberating. You soared to your high and let the pleasure consume you. Your back arched against him and your body spasmed uncontrollably. The sparks that sprung in your sight blinded you and you cried his name as you drenched the mattress with your release.

Steve has had everything spin out of control in his life; from losing Bucky, crashing that plane, waking up in a different time, finding Bucky only to lose him again, to the fucking Snap. Everything has been one shit storm after another and he felt helpless during it all when everyone turned to him for solutions he didn't have. Feeling your complete trust in him to do with you as he pleased gave him back some of that control he had been grasping for. It empowered him and renewed that passion he had lost. He moaned your name loudly as he spilled everything he had into you.

You fell in a heap next to each other, out of breath and sweaty. Your limbs felt like jelly and you did not protest when Steve pulled you into his arms. The gentle way he cradled your head and stroked your hair was a stark contrast to the rough hair pulling. You smiled into his neck as he kissed your forehead. You felt your body melt as he ran a hand lightly up and down your back.

"I got you, sweetheart," he whispered softly. Your heart grew warm knowing the words were true.

"I got you too, Steve."

An hour later, the computer rang insistently alerting you both of a disturbance in the target's hideout. You jumped to your feet to watch the chaos that had broken out. The audio was filled with yelling and loud curses and Steve could see erratic movement through his binoculars.

"What the hell is happening?"

"I may or may not have express delivered a bomb to their base," you said simply.

"You what?"

Steve stared at you in disbelief. How you even managed that without him suspecting a thing was something he would not even try to understand or his brain would explode.

"Relax," you waved him off. "It's just a glitter bomb. The most it will do is make them look like a unicorn vomited on them. They'll look fabulous."

"What were you hoping to achieve from this, Y/N?" he huffed running a hand through his hair.

"This."

You gestured toward the audio equipment which was now broadcasting to you the enemy repeating Allan Levy's name over and over asking him for his orders between angry shouting at the absurd mess. You finally got the confirmation you needed that he was in fact in the building.

"I queued a message to everyone to get their asses here according to when the bombs would arrive. They're 10 minutes out," you said with a wink at Steve's dumbfounded expression. "Better suit up, Cap."

"Sweetheart, how many glitter bombs exactly did you send them?"

"27," you shrugged and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Under Tony's name," you added with a cheeky grin.

"And his credit card."

You were going to be the death of Steve.

Taglist:

@fckdeusername @fanofalltheficsx @hersilencedscreams

Masterlist

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captainsimagines · 4 years ago

Text

traitor

Summary: It was only one night, no strings attached, just two friends working through their grief together. Steve went to live his life with Peggy and within two weeks of returning, he peacefully passed. Unimaginable things happen everyday, jokes have negative consequences, and protection doesn’t always protect from the possibility… the possibility of carrying a child. He would have stayed if he knew, everyone agrees with this, so why is the world calling Steve Rogers a traitor?

One-Shot (with a happy ending)

Pairing(s): Avengers x Fem Reader; brief Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Warnings: Unexpected pregnancy; serious talks about abortion; brief mention of suicide (if you squint); mentions of Endgame deaths; strong language; minor descriptions of actual birth; ANGST but with a happy ending! This is purely fanfiction.

Word Count: 6,600+

A/N: So, Olivia Rodrigo’s album just came out and dude, jfc every song is magical. like... wtf. This is essentially a ‘song fanfic’, but ehhhh not quite. The lyrics don’t match the fanfic lmao but the melody does??? idk this is a shit ton of angst, be warned. It was from a request I got a while back, so this is kind of a request fanfic.

Up until the moment Steve pressed his soft lips to yours, you were certain you had never experienced such a wonderful sensation of magic. You had been witness to actual magic, to beings from other worlds, and yet Steve’s gentle touch was enough to erase any other image, to completely overpower your senses, a kind of magic that dug deep into the trenches of your heart and settled in its new home.

No, you and Steve were not a couple. There were some flirty remarks over the years, some fantasies that lay dormant, but there was never the craving to actually act upon them. But when half the world disappeared and the remaining Avengers came up with a plan five years later, the loss of a teammate prompted the sudden push of two touch-starved individuals. The rest of the team had gone to sulk in their own corners of the compound, some hard at work at constructing the final piece to the puzzle, and you and Steve ventured off to the kitchen. Two cups of tea each, silent but heavy tears mixing in with the sugar and milk.

You were the first to break, shoulders crumbling and knees rocking under your weight. You fell to the floor, sobs and hiccups forming into a full-blown attack, your hands scratching at your neck. Steve fell beside you, pulling you into his chest and rocking you back and forth. He cried too, the final words of his best friend ringing in his ears like a dreaded song on repeat. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. See you in a minute.

Time was irrelevant, you had enough of counting time, estimating it, time-traveling through it. If you could sit there all night, all week, another five years huddled close to Steve Rogers, then so be it.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ you had sobbed.

‘I can’t believe it either. I can’t,’ he had cried back.

You had simply lifted your head and turned his face toward yours, searching his eyes for any hesitation before you had leaned in first. He had returned the intimate gesture almost immediately, gripping you tightly. Tears dripped in between your moving lips, sobs caught inside breathy moans, grips becoming tighter and tighter as each of you shared your first time together. No other partner up until that point had ever pulled such a pained but grateful cry from your throat, no other human being had ever made you feel so safe and peaceful.

The final battle was over, you had lost yet another teammate, but the world had a chance to start over. And Steve had pulled you aside a few days before he returned the stones, letting you know that he wasn’t coming back the same man. He had been so scared of telling you, of possibly betraying you, but when your palms cupped his cheeks and you gave him a kiss on the lips with a soft whisper of ‘Be with her. Cherish her. Be happy. We’ll meet again’, his worries instantly shattered. He could only rapidly nod his head, grabbing your hands that were soaked in his tears, and kissing them until he said his final goodbyes.

And he returned such a different man, but with a smile you had never quite seen before. Yes, he was older and you only had a few seconds to actually process that, but he was happy. He had been happy. He finally lived the life he deserved.

Sitting in that pew two weeks later, both sad and happy tears streaming down your face, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You simply gripped Wanda’s hand as they carried the casket down the aisle, a sad melody drowning the church.

The first round of sickness hit you the day of the funeral, but you obviously didn’t think much of it. It was the fits of sadness and grief, the hot coil in the middle of your stomach, you thought. It had to be. It wasn’t until your breakfast was regurgitated into your toilet only a few minutes after enjoying it that you were suddenly worried.

You sneaked to some liquor store a subway ride away, careful of not leaving a trail. This was embarrassing, it was insane, it couldn’t possibly be real. You gave the cashier your money and ran to the stall provided, peeing on the stick the best you could before placing it on the dirty sink in the corner. You patted your hands on your thighs repeatedly, careful to not touch any other thing in a goddamn liquor store bathroom.

‘Friday?’ your voice was so defeated, tears already stinging your eyes.

Your little bluetooth sprang to life, ‘Yes, Y/N?’

Your bottom lip was trembling wildly, hands now shaking. ‘Can you stay active with me while I read the results? I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.’

‘Yes, Y/N. Anything you need, I’m here.’ You sobbed openly, thanking her under your breath. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to contact anybody else?’

‘I can’t face them. I can’t face them if it’s positive, Friday.’

‘Okay, it’s alright,’ her voice was so delicate, so quiet and reassuring. ‘Just keep talking to me, Y/N. I think the results should be ready now.’

You inched closer to the test. ‘I’m scared, Friday.’

‘I know,’ Friday sighed, ‘But you will get through this. No matter the result.’

Grabbing the small device from the sink, you swallowed so much saliva that it actually hurt. The plus sign was so clear, so evident in its visibility, and your ears only registered the loud cries escaping your painful lungs because Friday was practically yelling in your ear.

‘Please, calm down Y/N! Your heart rate is too fast-” she was stuttering, an AI was stuttering. ‘I’m calling for help. You need someone to be here with you. I’m sorry.’

It took ten minutes. Ten minutes of banging outside the bathroom door from the cashier, ten minutes of blurry vision and a strep throat. Sam broke through the door as quickly as he could, eyes flying around the small bathroom until he saw you huddled in the corner, a pregnancy test clutched in your small hand. He crouched down beside you, hands extended but not exactly touching you, and eyes trying to lock with yours.

‘Y/N, Y/N?’

Just the sound of his voice, the voice of someone who didn’t need this added pain in their lives, it was just too much. Another weight added to your shoulders.

‘I don’t know why,’ you choked out, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Sam’s face contorted into a pained expression, eyes brimmed with salty tears. ‘What are you talking about? No one is blaming you for anything. You’re safe, I’m here.’

You shook your head violently, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

But as quickly as those words left your mouth, the pounding in your head had become too unbearable. You collapsed into Sam’s arms.

You woke to a single doctor who was monitoring your vitals. She was just sitting beside your bed, clicking random buttons on the screen in front of her. You whimpered slightly, the bright lights temporarily blinding you. The doctor quickly stopped what she was doing and removed the tube from your nose, allowing you to breathe on your own. You ignored the weird scratch that caused, and asked her the question you needed to have answered by a true medical professional - not a liquor store device.

She confirmed what you already knew. There were no ‘congratulations’ or even ‘I’m sorry’s’, just the fact that you were pregnant and it was very early on. There were still options for you, it was healthy so far, you were healthy so far-

Wait, options?

The team were all huddled outside, nerves all over the place. They didn’t know what was going on. Sam knew but it wasn’t his information to pass on. It wasn’t until Bucky’s angry demeanor actually turned violent, a hole forming through the hospital wall. You were all on a private floor, completely displaced from the reality down on other levels, so any freak-outs were only slightly justified. Slightly.

‘Sam, you gotta tell us. I made a promise to Steve, Sam! I promised to take care of her!’

Bucky’s words gripped Sam’s heart in a metaphorical vice. ‘She’s gotta tell you guys, man. It’s not my place.’

You had curled in on yourself, the doctor’s words echoing louder and louder.

‘Abortion is an option. At this rate, it would be quick and safe. I can promise you that. It’s your choice.’

You wanted to die. You wanted the world to swallow you up and bury you alive. You wanted to disappear. If you had died in the snap, this wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened.

The ride back to the compound was a quiet one, with Sam driving you and the radio on low volume.

‘Are you going to tell them?’

You bit your lip, ‘The doctor said I had options.’

Sam’s breath hitched and he tried to mask it, but you had heard it. You felt guilty, disgusting, like you betrayed Steve and the rest of the team. They had just lost him, you had just lost him, and you were carrying his child. And if Steve would have known, he would have wanted it. He would have encouraged you to have it, he would have been so happy, he would have been such a great fa-

‘The choice is yours, Y/N.’ He glanced over at you, ‘Can you at least tell me who the father is?’

The wrecked sobs were like second nature now, choking you with their strength. ‘I’m so sorry!’

Sam pulled to the side of the road and quickly took off his seatbelt, sliding over in the connected front seats to pull you into his chest. ‘Shh, hey. We are not going to be mad at you. Everything’s going to be okay. It may not seem like it now but-’

‘Sam!’ you cried, clutching his shirt in a tight fist. ‘I swear it was an accident! Steve didn’t know! He didn’t know, I swear he didn’t know!’

Sam’s mouth dropped open, an almost embarrassing noise of surprise sounding from the depths of his soul. He ran his hands through your hair, eyes rapidly searching for a single viewpoint. But he couldn’t focus on any one thing, not when you were shuddering against him and apologizing nonstop.

Steve didn’t know.

The team had reacted in a similar manner. They so desperately wanted to wish you a congratulations, it was the norm for this kind of thing. Especially with such a rough few years - bringing life into this world could be considered an ultimate blessing. But this was Steve’s child, his baby, his only baby in this timeline. It was a part of him, something he had unknowingly left behind.

The team took a few days. The pain of losing Natasha, of losing Steve, of losing Tony. The gift of life. It was just too much.

And you found yourself in front of Wanda’s bedroom door, hands clutching your night robe closed and knees wobbly. She brought you tea, she laid underneath the covers with you, she spooned you until you stopped crying.

‘We weren’t together.’

‘You weren’t?’

You sat up, muscles straining due to your thousandth crying session that week. ‘No, it was one time. It was a mutual thing. We just… felt safe. And we made love.’

Wanda shut her eyes briefly, only to open them for two parallel tears to slip. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

‘We used protection. It really was an accident.’

Wanda interrupted, ‘No, don’t try and justify yourself. It happened. It’s done.’

You whimpered, reaching out to grab her hands. ‘I feel so guilty for even talking to you. I don’t know how you did it. I’m so selfish to be pouring all this on you-’

‘Hey, hey,’ she whispered, ‘But I am the only one who can truly understand. I have lost more in my lifetime than anybody ever should. But I am going to help you get through this, Y/N.’

You pulled her into a hug, ‘I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.’

Wanda slowly pulled away, eyes cloudy and touch of red twinge flying in her irises. ‘Alright. I won’t leave your side. No matter what you decide.’

The chair was cold, the room was cold, no matter how inviting the hospital tried to make this room. It was decorated in the most neutral colors, so delicate in its designs, pamphlets and books scattered on every available surface. It was made to make the pregnant person feel secure, to feel comfortable in the hands of their doctor, but it just made you sick.

And when the doctor asked if you would like an ultrasound first, that it wasn’t actually necessary for you to view it, you found yourself saying yes. You were at six weeks, it would be there. Wanda clenched her eyes shut, because even if you were strong enough to do that, she wasn’t. But she was here to hold your hand. She would hold your hand no matter what.

It was the size of a grain of rice. That fuzzy, white figure off a little to the right of your uterus was the size of a grain. A literal grain of rice. The monitor shifted and the doctor cleared their throat, the slimy device absentmindedly being circled around your lower abdomen.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered, eyes locked on the place the doctor had their finger. Wanda brought her hand up to her mouth and looked away.

That’s when you heard it.

The steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat.

Your chest started heaving, tears staining your cheeks as you listened to the beautiful sound.

‘I’m so sorry,’ the doctor mumbled, ready to pull the monitor’s plug to end the live video but you gripped their arm before they could.

‘No, no!’ you yelped, the heartbeat still sounding, so early in its actual life that this was for sure Steve’s child.

You turned to Wanda, face contorting into one of agonizing regret. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Steve.’

Wanda gulped and took in a ragged breath, ‘Y/N, Steve’s not here.’

‘No,’ you whined, head turning back to look at the monitor. The monitor with yours and Steve’s child on it. ‘This is the only real part of him we have left, right?’

Wanda opened her mouth but shut it again, unable to formulate a proper response.

‘This is Steve’s child,’ you stated, sucking in a breath through your sobs. ‘This is my child.’

The team was alerted of your decision the minute you walked into the common room. They had known what you left for, dread itching in their souls and morals twisting greedily, but they hadn’t stopped you. They couldn’t do that to you.

‘Hi,’ you mumbled, placing your things on the counter. Everyone kept their heads down, lumps growing in their throats as each second passed. ‘I’m okay.’

Clint was the first one to speak. ‘Did everything go well? Did they hurt you?’

You smiled with your teeth for the first time in weeks, ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even touch me.’

For a few seconds, no one caught on to your words. But Bucky was the first to register them, to etch them deeply into his brain, to stand from his seat and walk to you cautiously. ‘You decided-?’

You smiled wide now, happy tears falling over your strained cheeks. ‘I’m having a baby.’

The team erupted, cries and cheers deafening you. Bucky stumbled over and hugged you close, arms wrapped over your shoulders and face buried in your neck. He had to bend his knees to keep that position. He weeped into your shoulder and thanked you repeatedly, his own body rumbling with broken sobs. You held him close, fingers digging into his shirt and the skin of his back.

‘We promise, Y/N,’ Sam said off to the side, waiting for his turn to hug you. ‘We promise to take care of you and this baby.’

A few more long-awaited congratulations were shared. ‘Guess I’m on desk duty for the next nine months, huh?’

Bucky held you tighter.

The first four months were certainly eventful. Wanda insisted on taking pictures of you every few weeks. She had you model with a nice tight shirt to show off your growing stomach, different props in your arms as the weeks passed on. Flowers, sporting equipment, random Avengers inventions, signs that read the number of weeks you were at. You even did couple shoots, with your teammates posing behind you with their hands on your stomach and an equally bright smile.

She had them printed out and framed, the compound common rooms now littered with random photos of you and your growing child. It was like a timeline, a museum considering you would catch someone inspecting the photographs. This time it was Scott, casually eating his cereal and balancing it in his hand as he walked the hallway. He had this silly smile on his face the whole time, milk dripping from his bottom lip. In his photo, he was posed behind you with a giant smile, back arched and head thrown back while you were trying your best to arch your back as well. And then he saw you watching him, eyes falling from your face to your stomach, and that silly smile growing wider.

Happy insisted on doing yoga with you every other morning, his chosen playlists actually Tony’s. Half expecting the songs to only emit the essence of rock and roll, you were surprised when the playlist only contained acoustics. Happy winked at you, ‘He was a man of taste, Y/N. He, too, had those sad driving songs.’

Peter was hesitant to visit at first. He was still mourning Tony, as you all were, and seeing everyone again was certainly a hard thing to do. But he managed, and the moment he saw you there, trying to balance a plastic bottle on your tiny stomach, he burst into a fit of giggles.

‘Oh, oh! I almost got it!’ you encouraged yourself, stomach not yet protruded enough to quite get it.

Peter rushed over and caught the bottle as it slipped, ‘You’ll get there. How do you feel?’

You grinned at the kid, ‘Like I’m pregnant.’

Peter chuckled, ‘I wouldn’t know, so.’

‘It’s weird,’ you admitted, turning back to your abandoned bowl of fruit. You popped a piece of pineapple in your mouth, ‘But I just remind myself that they’re gonna be an angel when they come out.’

‘All slimy and angelic.’

You swatted at Peter, ‘They’re healthy. That’s all that matters.’

Peter placed his hand on your stomach, half-expecting something to happen. ‘I can’t believe you’re having his baby.’

You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. Steve should be here experiencing this. ‘Me neither.’

The next month had come so quickly. Your friends - your family - made sure to keep you occupied. Whether it was to shop, to nap together, to eat together, to exercise together, anything, they were by your side. It was so overwhelming at times, but not wanting to scare anyone, you took time for yourself whenever you could. You’d settle in your room, in a nearby cafe, in Natasha’s room, and just sit and breathe. With one hand on your stomach, you couldn’t possibly fathom the luck on your side. It always tore your heart in two when you realized Steve would never meet his child, absolutely mutilated it. But the realization that this child was going to have such a massive family, your family, uncles and aunts who would die for the kid - that realization was sometimes too much.

The thunder from outside startled everyone. The quiet night everyone was having was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a certain god, hair now cut and beard trimmed, running into the common area. He was practically hyperventilating, his quick pace halting as he scanned the room. ‘Is it true?’

‘You got my message?’ Wanda asked, shutting off the water from the sink.

‘I’m sorry, I was away. I just got the message and-’

Thor lay his eyes on you, your obvious stomach, and he started crying softly. ‘It’s true?’

You smiled at him, opening your arms for an embrace. But Thor fell to his knees in front of you, forehead resting on your stomach. ‘This is a miracle.’

‘It really is,’ you laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. ‘The condom broke.’

Laughter sounded almost instantly.

Thor looked up at you, eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. ‘He didn’t know?’

You shook your head, ‘No, Steve didn’t know. I promise.’

Thor nodded, believing you. He stood slowly, encasing you in a tight squeeze. He hadn’t changed much since you last saw him, but he did seem to be drinking less. ‘After so much loss, the Heaven’s send us a gift from a beloved friend.’

Bucky seemed to be the happiest. Although he shared your beliefs that Steve should be here to experience this, to cherish this, to be the father he had deserved to be, Bucky couldn’t help but feel grateful that you decided to keep the baby. He knew he needed to stop relying on Steve to fix his mind, this he had to do on his own, but the bundle of joy inside of you just added to his undying love for his best friend. This was a piece of him, a true half of Steve’s heart that would soon be breathing air and opening its eyes.

He was currently laying beside you, just woken up from a nap and lazily drawing circles over your clothed tummy. You were still asleep, deep breaths a little ragged since you were twisted slightly to your side. You had given up trying to sleep on your back nowadays.

‘Hey there,’ Bucky whispered, a funny smile forming on his face because he can’t believe he’s talking to your literal stomach. ‘You know you’re a miracle, right?’

There was no response, obviously. But Bucky just positioned himself to lean on his elbow, temple resting in the palm of his hand. ‘We’re going to love you so much. Steve would have loved you so much.’

He placed his metal hand on your stomach, careful not to apply so much pressure. He was hesitant though, the metal hand now from Wakanda but still something he didn’t entirely trust. Still, he rubbed smooth circles on your side. ‘I already love you so much.’

Kick.

Bucky widened his eyes, a hitch in his breath. Was that real?

‘Did you just respond to me?’ Bucky asked, a little laugh escaping his lips. ‘Should I say it again?’

Nothing happened for a long while. He switched hands, rubbing a little deeper now. It was a free massage for you, anyway.

Bucky bit his lip and looked up at your face, still peacefully dreaming. He leaned closer to your stomach and repeated his earlier confession. ‘I love you.’

Kick.

Bucky shot up from his spot on the bed and covered his mouth, a loud laugh accidentally escaping and startling you awake.

‘W-What?’

‘They kicked! They kicked!’

‘Seriously?’

Bucky was shooting through the stars, because even though it was a long shot, he felt like somehow Steve was telling him he loved him back.

Sam’s leg bounced madly as he watched the doctor slick up the generator. You repeatedly tried to calm him, tell him that it would be quick and simple, and there was nothing to be worried about.

You were six months now. Belly now protruding to the point where you could only see the tips of your toes when you glanced downward, and the baby was positioned farther into your back. If anything, you were having a giant freaking baby. He was a product of a super soldier.

You remembered having that scary conversation with the doctors, your whole family beside you as they heard and relayed the information.

‘Your baby is perfectly healthy. The serum isn’t affecting it. His lungs are forming less quickly than the other organs but there’s no serious worry.’

Bucky had literally cackled at that, confusing everyone in the room. ‘Steve and his shit lungs.’

But now you were finding out the sex. Only one person was allowed in the room this time, and Sam had literally begged you with his eyes to choose him.

‘Are you two ready?’

You each nodded at the doctor, waiting for the monitor to spring to life. After a few seconds, the heartbeat was detected. You gripped Sam’s hand in yours, a quiet ‘thank god’ passing through his lips.

Then the giant image of a literal baby appeared on the screen. It was so surreal. It resembled a quick sketch, like one Steve would have casually drew, and you couldn’t help but imagine him drawing that very image from memory.

‘Y/N, I-’ Sam cleared his throat, smiling at you.

‘Would you like to know the sex of the baby?’

‘Yes, please,’ you answered, gripping Sam’s hand harder.

The doctor moved the generator a few times more, hitting the spacebar on the computer to capture the image. ‘Congratulations, you’re having a boy.’

You shuttered a tiny laugh as Sam flew out of his seat, arms extended upward for a moment before he brought his hands down to kiss them over and over.

‘I’ll print this out for you,’ the doctor smiled, leaving you and Sam to celebrate.

Everyone had gathered later that night to find out the news. You had printed enough copies for everyone who wanted one. Bets were placed, a multitude of gifts already mounted in online shopping carts.

‘Don’t keep us waiting!’ Rhodey shouted, champagne bottle at the ready and propped up on his thigh for when you made your announcement.

Sam was standing beside you, a massive grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him and urged him on, telling him that you were fine with him saying it. Sam didn’t need to be told twice.

‘It’s a boy!’

Pop! Drinks were poured and hugs were shared, with even Friday coming over the monitor to congratulate you.

Even in the midst of all the excitement, you felt a little empty. But you enjoyed your pre-baby shower, happy that everything was so unbelievably working out.

It was midnight when you alerted Friday to call Happy to your room. You needed a ride.

Happy was slightly irritated at being woken up, but once you told him where you were heading, he obliged. The ride was silent, comfortable, with Happy glancing at you once in a while to make sure you were okay.

You walked across the grass slowly, hands resting on your stomach and just a little waddle in your walk. You flashed your phone light over the headstones even though the headstone you were looking for was in a secluded area. Happy trailed you, keeping a respectable distance.

You stopped in front of the small building, the fence somewhat blocking your path. But there was no security around, and even if you were caught on camera, your face let everyone know who you were and your connection to Steve. You had no worries.

You broke the lock easily and opened the door. It was almost entirely marble, a good deal of Steve’s actual aesthetic. So simple, not overly patriotic, and secluded. He had refused to be buried in Arlington.

You sat on the bench provided, the three names in front of you standing out like they were begging to be read out loud. So you complied.

‘Sarah,’ you muttered, smiling as the name rolled off your tongue. ‘Thank you for sending everyone a literal angel.’

You muttered his father’s name as well, but felt no personal connection to it. You spent at least ten minutes building up the courage to utter his name, to say his name in front of him again. He was buried right underneath your feet, his name the only thing for you to see.

‘Steve,’ you sighed and rubbed your stomach. ‘Steve.’

You sobbed silently and watched as the tears fell on top of your resting hands. ‘I don’t regret it.’

You were met with silence. ‘I don’t regret any of it. God knows why he did this. But you lived your life, and I just can’t believe I have to bring life into this world without you here.’

‘It’s a boy, Steve. A lovely little boy.’

You brought your hand up to your mouth to bite the side of it, throat clenching. ‘Everyone is so happy. I am, too. I promise you.’

You lowered your hand back to your stomach. ‘I just wish that you could feel that happiness.’

The moonlight moved slightly, shining on his name brighter now. ‘He’ll know about you, don’t worry about that.’ You laughed.

You didn’t want to keep Happy waiting. You stood from the bench slowly, feet sore. You walked closer to him, wishing you could easily bend down and give him a kiss. But you physically couldn’t right now, so you blew him one instead. ‘Thank you.’

Somehow the rumor got out that an Avenger was pregnant. And when Wanda was seen outside without a large stomach, all fingers were pointed at you.

The news went ballistic, most positive and raving, while others pondered just who had gotten you pregnant. You had been seen with everyone in paparazzi photos, so no actual conclusion had been made.

Until a picture of you at Steve’s gravesite was leaked.

It was constant bombardment, timelines were stitched together, magazines and their headlines were having a field day. Rhodey had tried to cancel these news stories, to threaten lawsuits, but to no avail. The world was now cursing Steve’s name - ‘how dare he leave her while pregnant?’, ‘how could he leave her pregnant and for another woman?’, ‘did he even know?’

The team had done everything in their power to try and clear yours and Steve’s name, but no one was having it. Steve’s love story was now tarnished, with many calling him a traitor and a deadbeat. It was no use.

You struggled to climb the stairs, inwardly cursing the staff for not installing a ramp instead. The flashes were blinding, the lights were hot, and the various microphones placed on the stand were comical.

Everyone hushed, looks of sympathy and pity slapping you in the face.

‘I know what you’re all thinking and what you’ve all been saying,’ you started, eyes wandering to the far corner of the room where your team were huddled. ‘But I need to clear a few things up.’

‘Steve didn’t know.’

The crowd erupted, questions flying at you like fast bullets. They were silenced after a few moments. ‘We shared a moment with each other before we brought everyone back. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after his funeral.’

The crowd murmured amongst each other. ‘He told me he was planning to stay in another timeline. To live his life. I encouraged him. He did not leave me alone and pregnant. He truly didn’t know.’

You finished, they didn’t deserve a deeper explanation. You ignored their calls for questions, some even trying to crowd you at the doors. But you pushed through them, cradling your stomach with a newfound sense of pride.

It was time.

You sat up in your bed and quickly wiped away the hard crusts from the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a few seconds before you felt another harsh twinge. ‘A-ah!’

You didn’t know why you paused, legs now thrown over the side of the bed. They felt like menstrual cramps, it could be false labor. You let out a heavy breath and pushed yourself up, legs wobbly. But the moment you did, it was like something snapped. Your legs were wet and a tiny puddle had started forming on the floor.

‘Friday!’

The lights in your room turned on immediately, ‘Y/N, is it time?’

You moaned at the uncomfortable cramping, ‘Yeah, I think it is.’

‘I’m waking and alerting the team right now, Y/N. Sit back down, please.’

You listened to Friday, sitting at the edge of your bed for a few moments before you realized you had to pack a bag. You shuffled across your room and grabbed the duffel bag Scott had left for you a few days ago. You packed a pair of socks, sweats, underwear, vaseline and your toothbrush, hairbrush, and phone. You zipped your bag just in time for both Bucky and Sam to throw open your door, Sam struggling to put his shoes on and Bucky slipping on a jacket inside-out.

‘Y/N, is it really time? Are you ready? Are you okay?’

You ignored the cramping in your back and laughed at them, ‘Yes! My water broke, I’m in pain, it’s time.’

With both Sam and Bucky at your sides, they held onto you as you all stumbled down the hallway. Thor was already waiting with the elevator open, the biggest smile on his aging face.

‘Wanda and Bruce are preparing the room. Scott already called the doctor. Clint’s in route,’ Bucky reassured. The three men huddled into the elevator with you, all instructing you to breathe and to squeeze them if you needed to.

But even though you were in pain, albeit not as extreme as it was going to inevitably get, you were so incredibly happy. They were all so loud, so chaotic, and you were as calm as a cucumber.

The elevator dinged. ‘Good luck, Y/N,’ you heard Friday call after you. You pinched your eyes closed, the thought that Friday was ultimately a part of Tony’s consciousness - Tony was wishing you good luck.

The pressure in your hips was starting to build and you didn’t know how long this would actually take. Some people had quick births, some people lay in labor for hours, some for a day. But it seemed like this was going to be pretty quick, because your next scream was completely involuntarily.

Bucky winced, leading you to the bed Wanda had just lay sheets on. ‘You’re doing great, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.’

You laughed at Bucky and gripped his hand in silent thanks before slipping into the bed and trying to get comfortable. Before you could truly feel like you made it, like the first hard step was done, you sat up quickly.

‘Wait, wait! Nat’s sweater! I was gonna wear Nat’s sweater!’

Thor was already out the door, ‘I’ll get it! Don’t worry!’

You smiled at the ceiling, beads of sweat now rolling down your forehead. ‘Oh, this hurts!’

It was an hour. Once you shimmied into Natasha’s purple knitted sweater, you lay there trying to control your breathing. Everyone had piled into the room one right after the other. The room was big enough, spacious enough for even Bruce to roam freely. Although you were in an immense amount of pain, you still focused on your team.

Scott was on his third cup of coffee, sipping excitedly as he conversed with the others. Bruce was constantly checking your vitals and wanting everything the doctor was saying repeated. Wanda was beside you, a hand gripping yours and the other running ice chips along your lips. Bucky was on your other bedside wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts because it still smelled like him. His logic was that if he was wearing something of Steve’s the first moment he held your baby, then the first thing he smelled would be the remnants of his father.

And Thor was practically speechless, silent in his own little corner and feeling like the god’s really did bless everyone in this room after such turmoil.

Clint arrived with Peter trailing behind him just when the doctor instructed you sit up - you were at ten centimeters.

‘You gotta push, Y/N! You gotta push when the doctor says push!’

You yelled until your lungs gave out, head almost rolling back but Sam held it in his palm. ‘C’mon, Y/N! You’re doing great!’

You usually had perfect pitch when you sang, never faltering when it was time to hit a high note. But your voice was cracking at the most unusual times, throat rubbed raw as you felt your hips splinter open.

‘He’s crowning!’

Wanda traded places with Sam real quick, deciding that she wanted to see the baby when he was finally out. Bucky had a death grip on your hand, tears flowing freely and a smile to match Thor’s.

‘Push, Y/N! Push!’

‘I’m-I’m! I’m sorry! I can’t!’

The doctor was working her hands around the head, trying to ease the baby out easier. ‘Trust me, Y/N. One more big push and the shoulders will be out. That’s the hardest part.’

The doctor’s words were starting to drown out, and your head lolled back again. You felt tiny smacks on your cheeks, ‘C’mon, Y/N. You can do this. Everyone believes in you. You’re so goddamn strong, Y/N!’

That was Bucky’s voice. Bucky.

You opened your eyes, delirious for a second. ‘Steve?’

Bucky whimpered and nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing kisses all over. ‘He’s here. I feel him, Y/N. You can do this.’

And you could feel him. You could see your family but you could feel him. It was so light, like a gentle whisk across the cheek, a promise that this truly was a miracle.

You screamed as you pushed under doctor’s orders, feeling numb and abused but satisfied. His shoulders slipped out and along with them came his arms and torso, legs and all ten toes. The doctor caught him quickly, lifting him up vertically to let you see him. He was already crying.

‘He’s here!’

You sobbed and smiled widely, laughter rattling your chest as the team bombarded you with quick hugs. Sam remained at your side, his eyes motioning for Bucky to go see the baby.

‘Who’s cutting the cord?’

You looked around the room but you knew. You answered the doctor’s question. ‘Bucky.’

Bucky was truly confused. Not because of your decision, but because he couldn’t possibly be worthy of this. His hands, those hands that had killed so many people involuntarily, had almost killed Steve, those hands were now gripping a pair of medical scissors to cut the symbolization of new life entering the world. He turned to you for permission one last time, before he gripped the cord in his hand and cut where the doctor pointed.

His shoulders felt a million times lighter. Like he was set free all over again.

They cleaned the baby up quickly and swaddled him. The doctor placed him in your arms, all warm and utterly safe, to look back up at you with the same blue eyes as his father.

You sobbed happily, brushing your fingers delicately along his pink cheek. ‘Hi. Hi there.’

He was no longer crying, just staring up in pure astonishment at the various faces staring back at him.

‘Y/N, he’s beautiful,’ Clint said, tissue already in hand.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you spoke softly.

‘Do we have a name?’

It was like everyone said it in unison. ‘Steve.’

You snuggled into the bed and Natasha’s sweater, somewhat aware of the doctor still fixing you up down there. You would try feeding later, but for now your newborn needed to be passed around the group and be awed at.

You carefully guided him to Bucky, holding his head gently in your palm. Bucky took him, arms instinctively curling in the correct position. Once Bucky had him in his arms, it was like everything that happened in the world was worth it. Absolutely everything.

Bucky watched in fascination as the baby curled deeper in his chest, little fist clutching Steve’s sweatshirt. He took the sweetest little intake of air…

xxMoni

#steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #angst fanfic #happy ending #avengers x you #captainsimagines #platonic relationships #pregnancy fanfic #marvel fanfiction #by Moni #one shot #avengers oneshot #trigger warnings listed

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