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fushipurro · 7 months

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In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 6 - Vega

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☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, heavy angst, depression, suicidal ideation, implied/reference ED, mentions of blood (nosebleed), emotional hurt/comfort, insecure/intrusive thoughts

☆ Word Count: 7.8k

After your little “diner date” as Shoko and the gang started calling it, you found yourself hanging out with Toji more often than not, much to your surprise. You had your worries that the opposite would occur during said “date”, but it appears now to have brought you closer together.

Meals between the three of you ─ Megumi included of course ─ became a common occurrence, along with shared trips to the store. With winter settling in now, Toji stated he felt more comfortable with having you in his car instead of letting you carry bags home in the snow.

“Don’t need you freezin’ to death out here,” he’d say in an effort to convince you.

Other times, he would invite you over so Megumi could share some quality time with you to make up for all the times it’s just you and his dad. And who are you to deny the sweet boy?

Tonight is one of those nights.

The day began (early afternoon for you) with some games before dinner, enjoying said meal in front of the TV while watching a movie together. Megumi loves anything that features talking animals, so you thought it best to put on Kung Fu Panda, to which he fell in love. Hard.

He tired himself out trying to replicate all the moves, leading to Toji having to carry him off to his room to sleep. Turns out in this one-bedroom apartment, the two share the same king-sized bed. Toji had said before to you that because he’s out all night working, Megumi has the bed all to himself and vice versa during the day. He even took Megumi into consideration as far as bedroom décor went, stating his only preference is the happiness of his son, even if that means his sheets have dinosaur print all over them.

“Kid’s finally asleep,” Toji tells you upon his return, sinking back down into his spot on the couch with a thump. He laughs with a simpering expression, “Now we can watch something with a little more excitement for two adults.” His eyes fall on you from the side.

You jokingly gasp. “How can you say that movie wasn’t fun?” You place your hand over your heart to exaggerate the feeling of shock. “I’m telling you now, he’s going to be doing kung fu all week and have you in the Wuxi finger hold.”

“I can fight better,” he snorts, and you giggle. “I bet I could give any dragon warrior a run for their money.” Toji raises the sleeve of his ivory-colored sweater upwards. The veins and muscles bulge as he flexes with that same annoying grin stretched across his face looking for your approval.

“Okay, Tai Lung,” you tease, your voice coy sounding. “Whatever you say.” Your eyes roll away from him and back to the TV.

Toji laughs, snagging the remote before you can even think about it. “Just for that, I’m picking the next one,” he declares.

He pans through the options, debating what might be a good choice. He has a few ideas, but his primary goal like always is to get a reaction out of you. So, when he lands on a classic you know and love, he wastes no time putting it on.

Bride of Chucky.

“Perfect.” The words roll out like a purr. Or maybe a warning growl? Either way, he puts the remote down, leaning back against the couch and draping his arm over the back.

The movie picks up right away with an introduction to the main characters as you remember quite well. Rob Zombie’s “Living Dead Girl” playing while the one and only Tiffany Valentine makes off after the first kill of the movie.

Toji had thought the combination of blood and murderous dolls would have you leaning into him for protection, but to his surprise ─ and disappointment ─ you don’t. The most he gets out of you so far is a recoil during the first murder committed by Chucky himself.

“That’s what gets a reaction out of you?” His question comes out with a pout he doesn’t even hide.

You laugh through your nose, “Hey, the stabbings are one thing, but piercings getting ripped out?” You shudder. “No thank you.”

“Not even a little afraid of some creepy ass doll running around, killing people with a knife…” He goes silent for a minute as the bathtub scene occurs. “Or…a TV?”

“If we’re talking about Slappy from Goosebumps, then yeah,” you huff. “That guy was nightmare fuel for me, but Chucky I can enjoy.” You reach out for some popcorn, ever so quietly humming to “Call Me” by Blondie as it plays.

Toji takes his own handful before speaking, “You’re one odd girl, I’ll give you that.”

It’s funny the things that can affect you. Meeting new people turns you into a stuttering mess, yet you watch horror movies without a care in the world. As if the blood and guts doesn’t do anything to you unlike the words or actions of others do.

To others, you’re that of an iceberg. The image of you that others see is only a mere glimpse with the rest hiding below the surface. All it takes to reveal that side of you is time to warm up, something Toji is finally starting to see as you grow comfortable with him in your presence. No alcohol needed.

Throughout the rest of the movie, even if you weren’t clinging to him in order to shield your eyes, he still had his ways of keeping the distance close. There’s the brushing of fingers reaching for popcorn that seemed like more than accidents or the arm he has resting behind you this entire time for you to lean your head against.

It's like the awkward theater date you never had as a teen, except you’re the only one feeling awkward about it now. But at the same time, it’s endearing because you’re going through this milestone event in your life.

Except… you still aren’t aware if he’s single or not.

All signs point to yes since you’ve never once heard of another woman, or Megumi even talking about a mother. But she could just not live here, or they’re going through something, or she’s working abroad. The fact is, until you mount the courage to ask, or he tells you, you don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’s single. You’re enjoying this too much to think about this crush of yours falling apart.

Toji is sweet as could be and he makes you laugh every time you’re together. He continues to treat you and while you can’t return the favor financially, you’ve been trying with the little things like bringing baked goods over with the excuse that you made too many to cover up your nerves.

It's all you could ever hope to have with a friend or even a significant other, even if all it must be is platonic. It’s something you haven’t had in a long time, and one thing you don’t want to ruin by desiring more.

The movie ends and Toji stands up to stretch, collecting the leftover dishes to clean. You take a few, following him into the kitchen area.

“I would say let’s watch another, but I can’t be late for work tonight,” he groans, and you swear you can hear him pouting even with his back facing you.

“There’s always another night,” you reassure.

“I think we should just start the kid now with the good stuff.” His head turns in your direction flashing a mischeavous grin. “What do you think about watching Alien next time?”

“And scar him for the rest of his life over the spaghetti scene?” you reply with a sarcastic tone. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Hey, I saw much worse at an earlier age and look how I turned out.” He raises both his hands and shrugs all nice and proud.

“And it’s a miracle you’re sane.” He rolls his eyes with a laugh. “I vote that we watch Finding Nemo next time. I’m sure he’d love that one especially with how similar one of the characters is to you.”

He looks to you dumbfounded. “In what way could I possibly resemble a fish?” he says with disbelief lacing his words.

You giggle, “Personality for one; Gill is tough, smart, and cares a lot almost like a dad.” You extend your hand, gesturing to the man. “And two, you share similar features, like the color black, how you glare at others, scowl, even having a facial scar.”

You bite your tongue, eyes widening at what you just said. Another piece of info Toji hasn’t told you about yet is how he even got the scar on his lip. You know more than anyone that it may not be the easiest thing to talk about, mainly if there’s trauma tied to it versus something mundane like getting cut by a sticker bush.

It doesn’t help that he’s facing away from you so you’re unable to read his current expression. “I’m sorry, I–“

“You think I’m all that, huh?” He interrupts with a huff, appearing unbothered. “Bet I’m tougher than any fish in the sea,” he tells you again, with another flex of both his arms this time around.

You sigh in relief, “What about an orca?” you ask, and he flashes you a toothy smile.

“Now that’s a better comparison for someone like me over some stinkin’ fish.”

You both laugh and continue to chat for a little while longer. While Toji is cleaning the dishware, you’re occupying yourself with Megumi’s toys, helping to tidy up. When all is said and done, he walks you out, hanging back in the threshold of his home and the hallway.

“I’ll see you later then, hope you have an easy time at work.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Try not to have any nightmares later.” He winks, and you laugh.

“If I do, then I know who to blame,” you scoff. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Sleep tight, and don’t let the cursed dolls bite.” You roll your eyes, calmy walking into your home. Once inside, you’re anything but calm. You practically skip your way over to your couch, throwing yourself onto the cushions to pet Tsumiki.

Sweetheart.

He calls you that from time to time, and the butterflies you feel are something else. It takes a few breaths to relax from such giddy feelings. It’s been far too long since you had someone like Toji in your life, and you crave this kind of attention. This closeness. For the first time in what’s most likely been years, you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

You eventually pick up your phone that you haven’t bothered to look at in the hours spent next-door, and there were several notifications to greet you.

The first dozen were some cheers from work, namely from Kento regarding the publication of the magazine you modeled for.

The second bunch were the obligatory Instagram mentions, the most important being the one from Satoru’s post alongside a series of his choice photos from that day with you.

That’s when you remember things can and will go wrong, as the third set are all various notifications of strangers blowing up your account. The majority falls under Satoru’s post, a bunch of his followers spitting venom your way to target you.

Who’s this nobody he’s with?

Can she get any closer to him? I bet she’s just using him for clout

Must’ve been torture for him :( she’s not even that pretty lmao

Would look so much better with only Satoru.

You want to look away, you really do. You’d love nothing more than to shut your phone off and throw it at the wall, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

It’s nothing new for you to be hated on like this. The sad reality is that it’s to be expected, no thanks to the anonymity of the internet. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

They’re jealous.

You know that.

Just obsessed fans taking out their anger on you because they wish it was them at his side.

You know that too, but it doesn’t stop the dark cloud that hangs over you wherever you go.

Why don’t you just stay in your lane? Be a flower on the wall?

You should’ve turned the project down, given it to someone else. You don’t deserve the recognition it brings.

This is your fault, you know. You should’ve listened to your parents when they said you weren’t going to succeed in life.

You sit up properly on the couch, tucking your knees to your chest. For a while, all you can bring yourself to do is stare blankly at the screen, watching all the new messages come through every passing minute. It’s a given, considering Satoru’s astonishingly high following. It isn’t until your phone shuts down from a low battery that you throw it aside and fall to your side, letting the tears come cascading down.

You wake up later, still lying on your side with a damp feeling against your face. The light that comes through your apartment is soft, no doubt earlier in the day compared to when you normally choose to wake up. Begrudgingly, you push yourself off the couch, listening to every creak your bones make like dated wood.

The first thing you do is plug your phone in to charge, followed by feeding Tsumiki her breakfast. You ponder whether you want anything, but even if your stomach was growling, you don’t feel all that deserving to eat. Not only does your depression take away your appetite at times, but it also puts a strain on the relationship you have with food and other things pertaining to your day-to-day life.

A shower helps. At least there you can attempt to drown out your thoughts with the water that rains down. Even when physically after you’re clean and smell nice, you still don’t feel all that great. Against your better judgement, you go to see how things were looking today on your phone.

The answer?

Worse.

More of the same shit fills your feed, but with the added bonus now of threats and other hate in your DMs, and all over your own posts that had nothing to do with the magazine. All are a courtesy from the people with nothing better to do than wish harm upon you for breathing the same air as their celebrity crush.

Speaking of, there’s a new message from him.

Satoru Gojo heyyy so sugu, sho, and I are going out to star plasma later to celebrate, you wanna meet up???

You Sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on :( hope you guys have fun though!

Satoru Gojo boooo :( well if you change your mind, we’ll be there <3

You wonder if he’s seen the same hate you have, or maybe he’s just that good at ignoring it for his own sanity. That, or maybe he just doesn’t care what they’re saying. Not everyone is like you.

Oh, how you wish you could be like that. You also wish you didn’t feel the need to lie to him about having work. The thought of the gang seeing you in this state fills you with disgust, not to mention if Toji’s working tonight.

You place your phone back down on your nightstand, eyes drifting across to your bed. Most of the time, it’s the only place you want to be in, all wrapped up nice and tight under lays of blankets.

Other times it feels like a prison.

All the fabric acting like chains, keeping you bound to your mattress with no hope to escape. It’s during these times that everything outside the walls of your apartment frighten you to no end. And like always, you give in to the call of your damnation.

Sinking down into the cold sheets, you stare now up at the blank, white ceiling. The various scuffs and spots act like sheep for you to count as you make a mental note to clean them later. That will have to wait for a day you feel capable. A day you feel better if that day ever comes before it’s too late.

Why does it seem so easy for others to ignore all the drama of life and intrusive thoughts? They make it sound so easy, that being a normal, functional being is easy but here you are, wallowing in your own misery. You long to feel happy in life rather than the sorrow you feel now.

But will that ever happen?

A few unremarkable days have gone by since then, and you still bear no signs of feeling better.

You’ve stopped crying now, but the emptiness took over. Somehow you manage to get out of bed, only to mindlessly complete your work and anything else you have to do. Tsumiki’s been hanging close-by, as if she senses how distraught you are. Her meows and cuddles are the only thing bringing a ghost of a smile to your face as you shut out the rest of the world.

Food has been minimal, most of it not even having a taste when it hits your tongue. Your appetite is lacking either for anything more than a few bites. All in all, you’re just passing time until you can fall asleep, letting time go by that you later hate yourself for missing.

Depression is an awful cycle.

Today you decided you needed to head to the store. You tell yourself it’s to get Tsumiki more food or toys for putting up with you, but the truth is that your fridge is looking scarce. Your meals have mainly consisted of whatever is easy to make, jokingly referring to it as “girl dinners” to try and make yourself laugh.

You don’t put much thought into your outfit, choosing to wear something easy to keep you warm in this December month. Sometimes it’s nice to try and look pretty to help your confidence and all, but right now you’d rather hide under bulky fabrics. There doesn’t feel like much of a point to care, either way. What does it matter?

It's a quick trip in the end, only coming back with a few bags. You keep your eyes low to the ground, counting the concrete tiles to keep your mind at bay. It works, up until you notice your neighbor hunched over an idled car out front of your building.

Something’s off, you notice, and it makes the hairs stand straight up on your neck.

Never once have you seen Toji express an emotion like the one you’re seeing ─ the death stare he’s giving whoever is sitting in the car. For someone so typically calm, this apparent anger is so much scarier than any cursed doll could hope to achieve.

Who is he talking to?

You want to know, but at the same time you don’t if they’re upsetting Toji this much. Your breathing stills as you walk by, hoping to slip into the front door without being noticed. You make it as far as a few steps up before you’re stopped short from a voice.

“Hey.”

Your body tenses up. You’ve been avoiding contact with anyone outside of work for a few days, and you especially don’t want to be near whatever was going on outside just moments ago. He doesn’t need to be burdened by you.

“Hey, Toji.” You turn your head slowly to the man, weakly smiling.

He makes a few steps up to where you are, a silent urge to continue heading up to your floor together. The fire you previously saw raging in his eyes no longer appears present, instead replaced with his normal scowl.

“I saw your friends the other night at the bar, was hoping you’d be with ‘em.”

You exhale quietly, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, I– wasn’t feeling it that day,” you mutter.

Toji’s eyes narrow with furrowed brows to match but he continues with your pace.

“I’ve got some time before my shift if you wanted to watch that fish movie or somethin’ else,” he asks. You bite your lip as you think of your response.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” You go silent for a moment, save for the tapping of shoes against the tiled floor. “Some other night?”

He raises his hand sheepishly to his neck. “Yeah, no problem,” he says with the hint of disappointment in his words.

Fuck, you don’t want to hurt him. Especially with another lie to someone close to you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, turning the key in your front door. “See you later.”

“See yo–“ The door shuts before Toji can even finish responding.

The guilt settles in like a knife to your heart. Enough so that you slide your back down the door to sit with your head between your knees.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Disgust drips off your words.

Tsumiki comes right up to you purring away. For several minutes, you remain there on the ground petting her before finally getting up to put the groceries away. Shortly after, you return to your bed, indulging yourself with some good old blue-light exposure therapy. Tsumiki joins you, bringing in one of the new toys you bought for her.

Later, a soft knocking startles you from your sleep, not even realizing you had fallen asleep in the first place. The time on your phone shows that it’s after midnight, so who in their right mind needs you at this hour?

Cautiously, you approach the door, peering through to the peephole only to reveal…no one?

Huh, wrong house?

You turn away from the door, only for there to be another knock, but still nothing through the peephole. You end up opening the door without even thinking, and now you realize why you couldn’t see anything.

“Megumi?” He stands there teary-eyed, clutching his frog plush tightly in his arms. “What’s wrong, did something happen?” you ask with a gentle voice.

“I had a bad dream.” He sniffles, his lip starting to quiver with oncoming sobs.

“Come here, ‘Gumi.” You take him into your arms, lifting him up, and closing the door behind you as you take him to the couch. With one hand, you rub soft shapes over his back as you sit him down with you. “There, there,” you coo.

Megumi holds on to you tightly like a baby koala. There’s a damp feeling sticking to your chest from the tears falling from his eyes. In this moment, you put aside whatever troubles you might have. He needs you right now.

You give him a minute to relax and calm down, waiting to ask, “Do you want to talk about it?” But he shakes his head in response. “That’s alright, you don’t have to,” you tell him softly, further adding, “I’m right here with you, you’re safe now.”

Toji must be at work for Megumi to have come knocking, so you pull up his number on your phone, texting to let him know about the situation.

“Hey, ‘Gumi? You want to try going back to sleep?” He whines into your shirt, doing everything he can with his tiny hands to stay fixed to you.

“Don’t leave me, please…” He sniffles, and your heart breaks. There are those words again, you think, remembering the time in the bathroom with him once before.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reassure.

You give him some time to calm down, humming a familiar lullaby to whisk him away to sleep. He grumbles when you place him down into your bed, the spot still warm from your earlier rest, but he finds that he can’t fight his heavy eyelids. Between your song and the fingers running through his hair, he has no choice but to fall asleep once again.

“Ma..ma…” he murmurs, and you feel a tear fall from your eye.

Tsumiki joins you now, curling right up to Megumi’s side like the comforting angel she is. You send another message to Toji to let him know he’s still with you, to which he replies that he’ll be right over after his shift ends.

So much for avoiding contact with others, but it’s for Megumi’s sake right now.

It feels like déjà vu the next time you hear the knocking at your front door.

“Hey Toji,” you greet, parting the door for him to enter. He looks around with a confused look at first. He’s thrown off by the lack of lit candles, ambient light, or anything else. Instead, it’s just you, illuminated only by the moonlight peeking through the apartment.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, meeting your eyes. It’s a good thing it’s dark, so he hopefully can’t see the evidence of your tears.

“No, I haven’t slept yet,” you admit, and it only serves to puzzle him further. There’s a lot he wants to ask, but you’re already motioning towards your bedroom. He sighs, moving to catch up with you.

“He looks right at home,” Toji remarks, brushing Megumi’s hair back to better see his face. He gives Tsumiki some attention, careful not to disturb his son’s sleep in the process. Once Megumi is up into his arms, the two of you head back towards your door. He stops, turning to look you in the eyes again. “Thanks for watching him.” He doesn’t move from his spot, though his brows begin to furrow in thought. “About earlier…is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

You feel your stomach dropping. The guilt you felt earlier comes crawling back up with razor-sharp claws. “Oh. No, no ─ I’m…sorry about that,” you stammer out, feeling your chest tighten. “You didn’t do anything, I promise.”

“What’s up then, you’ve been actin’ weir–“ Megumi interrupts with some slight stirring in his sleep from Toji’s raised voice.

“I’m okay, Toji. Really,” you try and convince, despite feeling the exact opposite. Another lie that stains your soul, but you remind yourself that it’s not his problem. You’re not his burden to bear.

You’re not sure if even bought it, especially after the noncommittal grunt he makes with eyes that stare intently, as if peering into your soul despite the darkness.

“Alright,” he says after a minute, his voice noticeably calmer, but still unsure. “If there is something, you can talk to me, okay?”

“I will, thanks.” You open the door to let him out. “Goodnight.”

His head dips to you before the door shuts completely. “Goodnight,” he replies, with your name punctuating.

For some reason it hurts to hear your actual name for once instead of a pet name.

With your apartment empty once again, it feels colder than ever. Lately you’ve been feeling that way a lot. It’s only when Toji is there that your house truly feels like a home.

You meander your way back into bed, curling up into a ball facing the window. You can’t shake the cold you’re feeling, no matter the number of blankets overtop your body. Even the dimly lit skies seem to relate with you.

When was the last time you could see the stars shining so beautifully?

There was a time you yourself felt like a bright star once, one that floated easily through the cold expanse of the universe without any issue. Unlike the other stars that met their fate, there was no spectacular supernova at the end of it all. No rainbow plumes of stardust to vividly show all of existence how good of a life you’ve lived.

It was more like a flip of a switch when it came to you. Shining one day like normal and the next, a bleak void of what you once were, absent of any light.

You roll away to face the wall opposite of your room, moving your hands to clasp either shoulder in a self-embrace.

I miss the warmth.

You wake up alone for once, with Tsumiki nowhere to be found from where you lay. It’s nothing you worry about quite yet, as you figure she’s out in the living room watching birds. You get up to investigate, but to your dismay, she isn’t out there either.

You don’t see her anywhere.

Strange, you think. Maybe she’ll come out for breakfast…?

You try that next. Heading to the kitchen to prepare her usual pampered meal, making noise as you call for her.

“Tsumi!” you croon, adding a pspsps after, but again, nothing.

There’s no way she could’ve gotten out of the house, so she must be around here somewhere. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you’re scouring in and around every piece of furniture you have looking for her. Eventually, you do find her, all tucked away inside your closet on a pile of your clothes.

“There you are!” you exhale in relief. “Do you know how worried I was?” you coo. You then move to pick her up and she doesn’t protest, but she also doesn’t start purring or mewling either.

You bring her out the kitchen, placing her down with her bowl. Your heart sinks again when she sniffs the dish and ultimately turns her nose up.

Tears weld up at the edge of your eyes. “Fuck, Tsumi’, don’t do this to me.” You start to pace, chewing anxiously on your lip as you watch her huddle up in another corner of your apartment. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Fuck, fuck, what do I do?

Searching the internet is your first idea, but the results are anything but helpful. Half the results are akin to that of WebMD (read: you’re already dead). By this point, you’re hysterical now, fixing to hyperventilate as the last bit of control you have slips away.

Of all the times for something like this to happen, it has to happen to Tsumiki. You’d give anything to swap places because you love her more than life itself. But when it rains, it pours, and right now it feels like a hurricane is hanging overhead.

She needs a vet, but you can’t possibly run with her across town. Waiting for a taxi will only prolong whatever she’s suffering from. Fuck, if only you could afford your own car, this wouldn’t be an issue!

But then you remember one thing.

Toji has a car.

Toji.

With no time to waste, you sprint out the door of your apartment, frantically knocking on his all while desperately hoping he’s even home to answer. Your prayers are answered when the door opens, revealing the man himself, half-asleep and shirtless.

“Toji, I-I-I–“ your voice cracks between sobs.

“Woah, woah, slow down,” he interrupts, placing his hands on both ends of your shoulders. He lowers his head to your level. Seeing you in distress snaps him awake. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Tsumiki ─ I-I don’t know, I think she’s sick!” you stammer out, “I need to get her to a vet but–“

“Go get her; I’ll get my keys.” His voice is calm as he tries to reassure you, bringing his thumb up your cheek, wiping away a tear with the rough padding of his thumb. “Breathe, okay?” You nod, but you’re still trembling.

Toji releases his hands from you, allowing you to run back inside to grab Tsumiki. You place her gently into her transport while at the same time, Toji enters your apartment, taking the crate from your unsteady hands.

The two of you exit the building as quickly as you can, letting Toji settle her into the backseat while you situate yourself right there at her side, cooing to ease your baby’s scared hollers. Toji wastes no time pulling out on the main road for the directions you gave him, putting on his seatbelt as he went.

From time to time, he looks back at you through the mirror, seeing you hunched over in tears over the crate. You’re trying to be calm for her, you really are, but it’s so hard.

You arrive in record time at the emergency clinic, Toji once again carrying the crate inside the building while you briskly make your way to the receptionist. You tell them your name, and everything else they need to know while they work on all the check-in procedures, eventually handing you a clipboard and pen to fill out with further information to fill out.

Toji guides you with a steady hand to the waiting area which includes several benches and tables to take advantage of. He places Tsumiki’s crate on a spot directly in front of you, pulling you down to sit instead of letting you pace the room. Both your legs and hands are shaking uncontrollably with fear, teardrops dotting the paper and ink as you try to write out what they need.

“Hey.” Toji cups your dominant hand with his own, bringing the movement to a standstill. “Breathe,” he calmly requests. “I know it’s tough, but you gotta try and relax for Tsumiki. You aren’t gonna be helpful to her if you suddenly drop over,” he tells you, and he’s right.

“I can’t let anything happen to her,” you mutter with a hoarse voice. You lean forward in your seat, moving your hands to the back of your head.

Toji slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him. “I know.” His words are low, only for you to hear as he speaks into your ear.

“I don’t know what I’d do if something h-happened to her, she’s–“ A hiccup interrupts you. “she’s all I have left. Without her, I…I can’t.”

Toji takes the clipboard from you, putting it next to Tsumiki so he can fully embrace you with both arms. Your head is pulled against his chest and the fabric of his shirt helps to muffle your shattering heart.

“That’s not true,” he begins, his tone of voice calm, but equally stern, “You have me, Megs, those other three friends, even that boss of yours. You said it all yourself to me.” He pauses, bringing his hand up through your hair. His grip is tight yet offers indescribable comfort. The bottom of his jaw settles on the crown of your head. “You are not alone. Not anymore,” he promises.

If you could put a pin on when you start to fall in love in with someone, this would be one of those moments. Even if all he’s doing is reassuring you as any good friend would, it means the world to you and more. A moment in time you’ll never forget for as long as you live.

“Toji, I–“ You lift your head from his chest, taking one sniffle before you catch that metallic scent. You move fast to clutch your nose, but it’s too late. “Shit!” you hiss.

Toji leans back to see what happened. His eyes widen upon seeing the blood trickling down the palm of your hand, hitting his shirt in the process. Thankfully, there’s plenty of tissues given the environment, so he grabs a handful to hold under your nose.

“Fuck,” you cry out, “I’m so sorry, Toji.”

“Don’t be,” he huffs with some underlying amusement. “A bit of blood is nothing, I couldn’t care less.” You swap places with his hand holding the tissues. “Are you okay?” he asks, helping to clean the area around your hand.

“I’m sorry, Toji,” you mumble, lowering your head. “I’m such a mess right now, I don’t mean to burden you.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies, resting his palm on the apex of your head, teasing your hair in the process like he does to Megumi. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you’re not a burden. Let your ‘knight in shining armor’ be here for you.” He winks.

His helpful teasing earns the hint of a smile on your face and a short-lived laugh, but it’s enough to begin to lighten the mood. At least until you hear a voice calling out your name.

You stand up, reaching out for Tsumiki’s carrier but then you hesitate. “Hey Toji?” He hums in acknowledgement. “Do you mind coming with me for this, please?”

He smiles. “Not at all, princess.”

When all is said and done, Toji drives you back home, walking you back up into your apartment. There, he places the carrier down gently, allowing Tsumiki to roam free.

“I feel, so stupid,” you sigh, kneeling down and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment. “All of that for a simple tummy ache.”

Toji chuckles, “Hey, it shows how much you love her. You can’t fault yourself there.”

You turn your head to look at him with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I took so much time out of your day.” Your mind flashes back to when he opened the door earlier in his sleeping form and you can feel the heat reawakening in your body. “I woke you up for it too,” you breathe out a laugh.

“What did I say about the apologies, princess?” He crouches down in front of you causing his denim jeans to bunch up. One of his knees bumps against yours given how close he is. “I’d like to know what else is bothering you though,” he suddenly inquires, and you feel the same guilt you felt the last time creep back up like bile in your throat.

Once again, you border on the crossroads of what to say. It’s a huge step to trust someone else enough to share your vulnerabilities ─ but if it’s Toji… maybe you can? You did it before and it worked out better than expected.

You remain quiet as you stand from your spot, moving towards the couch. While you’re busy pulling your phone out, he rises and makes his way over to your side.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, trying to meet your eyes. “But we’re friends. I want to help you if you’ll let me.”

It’s a lot coming from Toji.

You’ve learned over the course of knowing him that feelings don’t come easy. He does what he can, and what he feels is the best course of action. It’s a big reason as to why you struggle to pay him back for all his moments of kindness. You’ve come to realize that that’s how he best expresses himself, not only through teasing, but also through acts of service.

Being not only a bartender, but also more importantly a father, it’s forced him to open up more to others and to himself. To reflect on his own feelings and shortcomings so he can be better for Megumi. It’s not easy and he certainly doesn’t do all this effort for others, but for you, he will.

You pass him the device silently, pulling your knees to your chest. You let one knee rest against your cheek as you look his way, and at the same time you avoid eye contact. Toji’s expression softens, and there’s the slightest hint of red on his ears, but mainly there’s some confusion in his features.

“These are beautiful ─ you’re beautiful,” he tells you, looking back your way. “What’s the problem with ‘em?”

You want to smile. It’s hard not to let alone the blush trying to come alive. There’s just one issue.

“This,” you proclaim, scrolling down to expand the comment section with your finger. “This,” you repeat, “is the problem.” You wrap your arms around your legs, hugging them to you with an empty expression.

He looks back and his face immediately darkens into a scowl. “You know they’re just spewing shit out of their asses, right? Bunch of dumb fucks that don’t have anything better to do,” he grumbles, more curses following under his breath.

“They’re not all wrong though,” you let out a dry chuckle.

“No, uh uh.” He shakes his head, the words spilling out fast and like that of a growl, “Do not do that to yourself. Don’t think for a second this shit means anything.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it!” you exclaim, drawing out each word. Your fears have come alive as the dam breaks. The tears that fall from your eyes are hot and heavy, flooding down your cheeks. “Every single thing they say sticks with me, and I hear it all the time in my head!”

He moves to sit in front of you, placing one hand down on your knee. “You shouldn’t listen to anything on here,” he says more calmly this time, scrolling further down the post. “It’s all garbage, they’re garbage.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” you mumble, tightening your grip around yourself to the point your nails are digging into the fabric of your pants to reach your skin. “I hate it so much,” you drawl, “and I hate mys–“

“No.”

His tone makes you flinch, stopping you from continuing. The only noises shared between you two is that of the sobs you try and hold back to not make a sound. To not let another hear you sob.

“Look at me,” he almost whispers to you. “Please?” he insists when you don’t respond.

You eventually do, keeping half your face hidden beneath your forearms, but your eyes finally meet his own and you see the worry behind them.

“No matter what anyone says, you deserved to be on that magazine. Satoru didn’t make you the model you are, that was all you, do you understand?” He pauses, waiting for you to nod before he continues, “Listen to me when I tell you that you are beautiful. These assholes don’t mean shit, and even he agrees,” he finishes by handing you your phone back.

You’re puzzled until you see what Toji is referring to ─ a recent update on Satoru’s page where he expresses how disgusted he is by the comments. He goes on to bash the people spewing hate at someone he deems his friend and how you deserve none of it. The words bring more tears to your eyes, but not all of them are sourced from a well of sorrow this time around.

Toji goes on to say, “You should post your own pics too from that day. Be proud of yourself and the work you put in.”

You still can’t help but scoff, “Yeah, and give them more fuel? It’s bad enough they’re under all my other photos too.”

“So?” he scoffs back. “Fuck whatever they have to say. Remember what I told you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, wiping your tears. “I’ll do it.”

His lips upturn into a wolfish grin. “Good girl. Show ‘em who’s boss.” He pats your knee a few times before returning it to his side. “Now what do you say about ordering in some food? We can watch that fish thing too with Megs if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widen, darting to the clock on your phone to see how late it is. “Oh my god, Megumi! I’m so sorry, is he–“

“Relax, he’s fine,” he states, appeasing your worries. “I had his sitter pick him up from school.”

“Oh, thank god,” you sigh again. “I was so caught up with my own shit, I completely forgot.”

“No harm done, so quit apologizing already,” he teases.

“I’m sorry ─ fuck, sorr–“ You clasp your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. Toji gives you a blank stare with his mouth stretched in a fine line before your stomach breaks the silence with a loud growl. You hide yourself behind your legs from the humiliation, meanwhile Toji breaks out laughing.

Funny how the tables have turned.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He stands up, pulling his phone out from his back pocket. “Speaking of the kid though, his birthday is coming up.” His hand meets the back of his neck. “It’d mean a lot to him if you’re there for it, we’re havin’ a small party.”

“I’d love to,” you reply with a bright smile ─ the first and most genuine one you’ve made in several days.

“Thanks.” He returns your smile. “I’ll go get the kid then and order your favorite, so get comfortable while I’m gone.”

As he leaves, you go back to some of the latest posts on your profile. To your surprise, a lot of the hate and threats you saw were no longer there. Even the threats in your DMs disappeared or their accounts suspended. You have a feeling Kento has something to do with this, to which you’ll have to thank him later.

You pan through the official photos from the shoot, choosing all your favorites. With a shaky hand, you remember Toji’s words and hit the button to upload your post. Moments later, a new message comes through from your group chat.

Satoru Gojo oi oi, you’re posting again! are you okay??? we miss you :(

You I’m okay now, I’m sorry for worrying you guys.

Suguru Geto Don’t be, you have every right to want your own space. We’re just happy to hear from you again.

Shoko Ieirinext time though you should tell us so we can help you feel better 💕

Satoru Gojo yeah^^^ I was this 🤏 close to getting that double D DILF you like to drive us to your place so we could see you

You oh my god, don’t even start

Satoru Gojo hehehe I can see you blushing through the screen >:3

Shoko Ieiri no need to deny the obvious :)

Suguru Geto I’m with them on this. :)

You wipe the happy tears off your face just in time for Megumi to come running in. He throws himself into you for a nice big hug, with Toji following closely behind.

“Food’s on its way, you feelin’ better?”

“Yeah.” You nod in response. “And thank you, Toji. I’m glad we’re friends,” you tell him with a sincere sounding voice.

“Me too, sweetheart.” He plops down next to you, pulling Megumi into his lap to bounce on his knee. “Now let’s get this movie going then so we can watch Alien later.” He gives you a devious grin.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, funny joke.”

“We’ll see about that,” he teases.

Megumi ends up thoroughly enjoying Finding Nemo, reciting Dory’s iconic line “just keep swimming” over and over to the amusement of you both. Toji on the other hand tries his best to deny the Gill allegations, but it proves to be an impossible battle once Megumi began to point it out and back you up on the claim.

After dinner, Tsumiki ends up joining you three on the couch as well, feeling better than ever now that she has the laps of three people to choose from for love. But between all the laughing and combined joy, you can safely say that in this moment, you feel a whole lot warmer than you did before.

☆ Notes: I will self-indulge myself with movie and song titles that I know and love unapologetically. It’s my way of giving recommendations in a self-insert fic where I try and make the reader as inclusive as I can within the realm of what I’m trying to achieve. jennifer tilly is my celebrity crush <3

also I don’t know about you all, but when I get super stressed out and cry, my nose starts bleeding like hell which is why I wanted to add that scene in specific to add to the depth of the reader's anxieties

revising this chapter makes me realize how much dialogue is hard to do for me. I get so stuck on whether or not I believe a character would actually say what I’m making them say, but then I try to remind myself that there’s some wildly outlandish stuff I’ve seen in other fics that’s still enjoyable to read even their personalities are crazy OOC. Hope that isn’t too much the case here, as soft!toji is something I really try to focus on given all the shit he’s been through.

Here's a fun toji edit by the way >:)

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #toji zenin #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jjk au #toji x you #model!reader #megumi fushiguro #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento

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fkinavocado · 2 years

Note

Imagine they are at a friends Halloween party and as the party starts dying down and rest of the guests leave only Harry, Y/n, the friend, their partner, Niall and some other close friends are left, they decide to play truth and dare, Harry is really not into late night party stuff anymore so he asks her to leave with him but she begs him to stay because she is actually having a lot of fun and he gives in because he loves seeing her happy and then one of Harry's friend gets the dare of giving the person sitting on their right a hickey, Harry realises that it's y/n...

🍟

fhsds i love how you weasel niall in everytime ahahaha love that truly lmao HOWEVER for the sake of not overcomplicating things (and you’ll eventually see why) i’ll exclude him from this lil get together this once 👀

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

It's us (word count: 5k)

*this was originally slightly different, i switched up a few things so that it could fit in the narrative after they get back together!

*timeline: somewhere after the main story

Harry was tired. It'd been a long week. He'd finished a project that had been a major pain in his ass and he was more than glad to be finally done with it, and all he wanted was to stay in with his lovie and watch some true crime docuseries splayed on his couch, his head in her lap while she carded her fingers through his curls and scratched at his scalp- it put him right to sleep. See, he wasn't a fan of watching eerie stuff before bed but Y/N was and he was humouring her watching these shows with her, but if he could fall asleep before he saw something that would make him double-check the locks, he was glad for it.

Unfortunately, Y/N had some other plans in store for them that weekend. Well, in actuality, it just so happened that it was Halloween that Friday and when he saw her dressed up as a sexy kitten he felt conflicted. First of all, she wasn't really wearing a costume- so the "sexy" bit was his personal interpretation of it cause he found her sexy anyway. She'd just put on a headband that made two kitten ears point out of her luscious head of hair, she did a dramatic winged eyeliner and drew on whiskers on her cheeks complete with coloring the tip of her nose a cute pink.

It was... doing things to him. He wanted nothing more but to keep her inside and make her... purr.

But when she insisted they went out to their friends' that had invited them over for the occasion, he felt inadequate. "I don't have a costume!"

"I don't either! This isn't exactly a costume!" She pointed at her kitten ears she'd gotten from the Chinese discount shop.

"Yeah but it's something. I'll probably be the only one not wearing anything..."

Y/N pouted. "You can just be the hot DILF. C'mon baby... We talked about this...."

Harry couldn't fight the grin off his face. "The what? Come here, you..."

She dodged him. "Nuh-huh. We'll never leave the house if we get started and you know it!" She couldn't keep the smile off her face either as she was circling around the dining table trying to not let him get to her.

"I don't need any more convincing to stay in, darling," he smirked.

"Oh, shush! C'mon Harry! I really wanna go! Please? We won't stay long if you don't want to, but we've been cooked up in the house for the past 2 weeks, I wanna get out for a few hours at least," she bit her lower lip and looked at him from under her eyelashes. "I'll make it up to you. What say?"

Harry squinted at her. "Oh. You can bet on it"

Harry was nervous.

She'd met some of his friends before, after they'd ran into Mitch and Sarah and their, then, newborn baby. Y/N had fit in perfectly. It wasn't surprising to him that she did, but he'd been apprehensive about his friends' attitude towards her for the longest time- what with her being 16 years younger than him (and most of them) and whatnot. But turns out he should've had more faith in his friends. They knew Harry well enough to know he wouldn't bring just about anyone as a date anywhere if he wasn't serious about them. And they were mature enough not to judge a book by its cover.

In the meanwhile though, he'd been pretty absent.

None of his friends except for Mitch and Niall had known about his struggles for the 17 months him and Y/N had been apart for. At least, he hoped they didn't know... he'd been MIA for that whole entire time, and this was the first time he'd be seeing the extended group, let alone get acquainted to the new additions.

Mitch had reassured him that nobody would ask any uncomfortable questions, and that they all just knew he'd been through a rough time, but that all was well now and they all were excited to have him back.

That's why he'd been postponing meeting them for so long. He felt like he would be scrutinized. He feared they'd been gossiping about him, wondering what had happened, and now they'd try and pry it out of him.

Y/N knew he'd alienated himself from his friends that whole entire time, but she'd been the one to talk him to it. This was the perfect time for a casual way to reintegrate themselves into his group of friends.

"Baby. Don't be nervous. It's just your friends in there. They'll be happy to see you. I promise."

Harry was really only closer to Mitch and a couple others, and their respective partners, but there were other people invited to this little get together, people he hadn't met before. He hadn't been expecting this. Mitch made it out like it was just gonna be their usual group. A friend of Sarah's was hosting and she'd invited other people too, apparently.

But Y/N had been right about the costumes. Only a few were costumed, hardly so, and most of them were just wearing whatever. Part of him was glad she hadn't been the only one putting something together, even if only those cute little ears. He wouldn't have wanted her to feel out of place. In fact, Mitch was apparently a vampire for this. He'd put on a whole lot of powder and a deep burgundy lipstick and it did the trick, fangs or no fangs. The long hair helped too along with his usual aloof demeanor.

"I'm not a vampire," he grimaced.

"Oh?" Y/N gave Harry a look as if asking him to save her.

"I'm Brad Pitt. I just so happen to be Brad Pitt in 'Interview with a vampire'."

Harry rolled his eyes while Y/N chuckled but he knew she was doing it to save face. "Stop being a dickhead."

Mitch just smirked to himself going to get a refill of his rum punch and they proceeded to mingle with the rest, Sarah introducing them to those they weren't already acquainted with.

His closest friends really did seem to be genuinely happy to have him back, Y/N too. He felt a bit silly for having postponed doing this for so long. He'd really missed them too.

Hours went by however, and Harry was getting antsy. Not only was he genuinely growing tired, but he really wanted to love on Y/N. She was just too darn cute slash sexy slash adorable with that pink button nose of hers and he wanted nothing more than to have her wear nothing else than those kitten ears and her heels for a couple of hours before they went to bed.

"Darling, let's leave. Please?" He hummed into her ear. He'd been so worked up about seeing his friends again, all that stress and anxiety getting to him, plus his social batteries had drained already, not being used to doing this in so long.

"Just a little longer," she pouted. "I'm having fun."

He eyed her glass. "Hm. I can see that."

She furrowed her brows, deadpanning. "What?"

He smiled at her, "nothing. You're getting a bit tipsy. I just don't want you to get sloshed, though. You got to make it up to me, remember?" He whispered that last bit into her ear once more and that had her giggling more than she would have normally.

"Ok," she placed her glass on the coffee table in front of them. "I'll be good, daddy."

Harry's eyes widened dramatically while shushing her simultaneously, going in for a kiss to make sure he silenced her more effectively. "You're in so much trouble," he mumbled smilingly against her lips.

She was looking at him all dreamy eyed. Maybe she was more far gone than he'd realized. The fact was, Y/N was a cute drunk. She never drank till she blacked out, definitely not enough to embarrass herself in any way, ever, but she was a cute, horny mess.

She whispered looking right into his eyes, their lips still touching slightly. "Let's go find a bathroom."

Harry bit his lower lip and pinched her thigh making her yelp far more loudly than was necessary, throwing her into another giggle fit. "Shhhh," he shushed her again. "You little minx. That costume of yours isn't that far off. We're going home. C'mon," he stood up and offered her a hand but immediately one of the other women cut in.

"Hey! You two, what's with all the commotion?" She laughed, "c'mon. Pay attention. We're playing truth or dare."

"Seriously?" Harry furrowed his brows smilingly but Y/N pouted at him and he eventually dropped his hand and went to pour himself another coke.

He normally would've needed a drink to find this even remotely entertaining. He was sober now, though, had been since they'd gotten back together. No exceptions.

He did however insist Y/N have a drink whenever she felt like it. She shouldn't have to suffer the repercussions of his own actions. This was a decision he'd taken for himself and he was fine with it. It was, however, the first time he was in a setting with such heavy drinking all around him. It was the social habit that was hardest to break, and that indeed prove to be quite difficult althrough the evening.

But these were grown ass adults playing truth or dare, for god's sake. How did it even get to this? Was this how silly they'd always acted when a bit tipsy, and only now that he was seeing it all clear-headed he found it a bit too funny.

He spotted a group chatting to the side and joined them, keeping his eyes on his lovie from afar.

She was so beautiful. He couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing her so carefree and giggly. Made him feel all warm inside, and it made this whole evening worth it, with all the anxiety and stress that came along with it for him. He was paying attention to the conversation the group he'd joined was having, trying to keep himself occupied but when he heard a lot of oohs and aahs he turned to look at the group playing truth or dare once more.

Dean, was it?- had apparently agreed to a dare. Lizz, the woman to his left squinted at him playfully, plotting for an appropriate one. Harry realized they were all a bit tipsy, not just his Y/N. Actually, he may as well have been the only sober one there. It was well into the night by now. Past 11pm. And apart from being fairly bored he was getting quite tired. He would wait for her to play a round as to not come off as rude and then they would take their leave. "I dare you... to give the person on your right a hickey," Lizz's eyes glistened and Harry straightened up at that immediately, turning his back to the group he'd joined.

This Dean guy turned towards Y/N and raised his eyebrows at her suggestively and Harry was seeing this all unfold in front of his eyes as if in slow motion. Y/N just looked at the man, dumbfounded and then scanned the group seeing everyone eagerly awaiting for it to happen, so she just extended her neck towards him, gathering all her hair to the side, granting him access, and squeezing her eyes shut, smilingly.

Was she... enjoying this?

The second the man's lips touched her skin he turned away, rushing to get away from the scene unfolding in front of him.

He found a bathroom and locked himself inside, panting heavily. He wasn't feeling well. He could see red in front of him, that's how out of it he felt. He downed the coke he had in his glass and then placed it on the bathroom counter a little bit too forcefully by the sound it made, but he was hearing it all muffled. He looked at himself in the mirror and he almost couldn't recognize himself. Turning the faucet on, he splashed cold water and slapped his face lightly, shaking his head.

What was happening? It felt like he was having a panic attack.

He hadn't felt like this since...

He shook his head again. No. This wasn't happening again. He wouldn't allow himself to go in that dark place again.

He held the edge of the counter to stop his hands from shaking, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grasp. He needed to get it together. Because all he could think of was rushing back in there and knocking out that son of a bitch in one swift motion.

And her smile... that was the worst of it. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why did she smile like that?

He needed a drink so badly.

"Harry?" He snapped his eyes open, unaware of how long he'd been in there. Then he heard her voice again, more softly. "Baby, are you in there? Are you ok?"

"Y-yeah. Be right out," he cleared his throat. He wasn't ready to get out of that bathroom, he didn't trust himself. But he had to, he couldn't hide in there forever. He splashed some more water on his face, took a few deep breaths and then emerged only to see her waiting for him propped against the wall outside the bathroom.

"Harry, oh no... you look so pale. What's wrong?"

"I'm just... not feeling too well. Can we leave, please?" She tried getting closer to him but he closed his eyes taking a halfstep back.

It took her aback, he noticed, but she didn't say anything. "Ok. I'll just get my purse."

"I'll get the car started."

She turned back to give him a worried look. "Aren't you gonna say goodbye?"

"I'd rather we just left... I'm not up for it," he mumbled, looking away.

She wanted to say something, he could tell, but she decided against it and went to get her things as he rushed for the front door, making a run for it almost. The moment he stepped foot outside he gasped for fresh air.

Good. He was out of there. Nobody got hurt. He could do this.

God. He needed a drink so badly.

He avoided eye contact when Y/N finally got into the car and he drove right off. She didn't ask him anything, didn't try to talk to him.

Was she feeling guilty?

The scene kept replaying in his head, that jerk's mouth closing in on the delicate skin of her neck. And her smilingly offering the side of her neck up to him.

He glanced over to her and could actually see the hickey. The car swerved and Y/N yelped in shock "Harry!"

He pulled himself together enough to drive them home safely, but he was losing it.

After they got inside the house Y/N remained by the door watching him pace around, trying to busy himself. He was visibly shaking and he was trying to hide it but before he could head for the bedroom to undress and jump into the shower he caught his hand in hers and stopped him in his tracks "Harry. Talk to me. What's going on?"

He couldn't look at her. He knew he was overreacting. That much he was aware of. It was just a silly party game. It didn't mean anything. But it was incredibly triggering to him. And he couldn't help the visceral reaction he was having to it.

"I'm not well, Y/N," he said, his voice small. "I'm trying to get my shit together... but I just can't."

"You're shaking," she pointed out whisperingly. "You're worrying me. Please talk to me... Tell me what's wrong."

He finally looked into her eyes and what she saw appeared to have sobered her up completely. "Baby," she got closer but was still mindful of his personal space, still holding his hand with both of hers. "What's happening? You're scaring me... please."

He exhaled shakily and looked away again; after a beat he finally reached over to her hair and pulled it all to one side, mimicking her gesture from earlier, exposing the hickey. His eyes darkened looking at it unobscured now.

Her breath caught, "Harry... Wait. Wait, you saw that?... I looked for you as soon as it was over and you... you weren't there... and I realized how that must've looked to you and I was so relieved when I saw you weren't there and I just... I didn't know how to react... I didn't want to be a party pooper, I didn't think it through--"

"You smiled."

She blinked at him confusedly. "Huh?"

"When he was doing it. You smiled," his voice was coming off as if strangled, he didn't recognize it coming out of his mouth.

"Baby, no. What? I was just playing along! What are you saying?"

He just looked at her and smiled a humourless smile. "I know it's silly. It's just a game, right? I know all that. It's just a hickey on a dare at a stupid party with tipsy people having a bit of harmless fun. But it did something to me, and I can't help it. I had to run away before I jumped the guy. I wanted to... God." He squeezed his eyes shut, "I haven't felt like this in so long. And I thought it was all behind me."

Y/N's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. "No! No, baby, no. It's ok! It's ok! You're just jealous, alright? It's who you are. You're possessive. Doesn't mean anything!"

"Yes it does," he grimaced. "And you know it." He pulled his hand out of her grasp and took a step back. "I'll never get better." He could feel his own tears welling up.

"No..."

He shook his head and could feel tears blurring his vision completely so he just let them drop heavily on their own accord. "I'll never get better. This is who I am."

"Stop!"

He kept shaking his head walking backwards away from her until his back hit a wall when he was forced to stop and she rushed toward him, cupping his face in between her palms. "No! Listen to me! That's not who you are! It's not! Because you didn't do anything! You hear me?" She tried searching his eyes but he wouldn't make eye contact "You ran into that bathroom and you snapped yourself out of it and you were in control of the situation! You didn't let it get the best of you! You're in control, Harry!"

"I wanted a drink" he cut her off, shaking his head as she tried keeping him still. "I wanted a drink so desperately..." he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling more tears fall down his cheeks and she thumbed them away lovingly, cooing him and shushing him.

"You're fine. You made it. It's alright."

"It's just that... it was so triggering..."

"I know, baby, I know," she pulled him into her arms and he slumped against her, crying in earnest now/ "You're safe now. It's all behind you. You did it, you were in control. You did so good, baby." she pulled back a bit and kissed all over his face, kissed his silent tears away and stroked the back of his head until he stopped shaking. "I would never do anything to upset you, nothing to make you jealous. You know that, right? I love you."

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she wondered if he purposely chose her right side, the untainted side. "I know," he mumbled. "Rationally.. I know. But the way you smiled kept repeating in my head, on a loop..."

"I was just..."

"I know!" He squeezed her to his chest, possessively, "I know. But still... I couldn't help how jealous it made me feel. How possessive. I can't stand it. Him touching you... anyone touching you..."

"It'll never happen again. No matter the circumstances. I promise," she carefully snaked her hands around his neck and tried her luck for a kiss. He didn't fight it. In fact, he urgented the kiss immediately.

"I need you," he told her in between frantic kisses and she nodded her head, their mouths desperate for one another.

"Have me, Harry. I'm yours. Never doubt that."

He groaned, turning on his heels and pressing her against the wall instead. "Mine. Mine. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he managed in between kisses.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just--"

"Shh. Enough talking. I was on edge the whole evening. Never wanted to leave in the first place," he pulled away and looked at her, taking in her Halloween makeup and letting his lips quirk up a bit but then when he reached her eyes his own saddened again seeing how her winged eyeliner had gotten smudged with tears. "Did I ruin our evening completely? Should we not? I don't want to do anything if--"

"No! Please. This is us, Harry. This is how we communicate too, alright? I need this just as much as you do. I'm yours. I want to show it to you. Let me show it to you. Ok? Can I? Can I, daddy?"

"Fuck," he cursed, closing his eyes and going back in for a searing kiss. "Yes. Yes. It's us."

"Want you to show me who I belong to," she reached a hand in between the two of them and pressed it against his crotch, happy to find him ready and wanting. "God, I need you," she mewled. "Please, daddy."

She meant to get on her knees but he stopped her. He couldn't wait to get inside her, he wasn't in the mood for teasing. He unbuckled his belt, freeing himself rapidly and pushed her skirt up past her waist. Her heels would aid his access and he kicked her legs apart, pulling the crotch of her panties to the side and feeling her up. "Fuck. Always so ready for me, aren't you sweetheart?"

He grabbed one of her thighs bringing her leg over his hipbone, she grabbed his cock lining it up with her entrance and he sunk into her without preamble. It was a very tight fit, and it sent painful shockwaves through her core. Wet as she was, he was still large and she always needed to be properly warmed up by him before actual penetration. There would be none of that tonight though. After a few deliberate thrusts, her pain rapidly turned into pleasure and she moaned loudly, throwing her head back and bumping it a bit too harshly against the wall behind her.

"Yes, yes! Oh God!"

He brought his other hand to her neck then, squeezing tightly at the sides, his thumb pressing into the tender spot inhabited by the hickey and she gasped in pain. "Say you're mine. Tell me you love me."

"Yours, always. Only you. I love you, daddy. So much," her voice grew fainter, his fingers pushing into her throat more and more and then he kissed her harshly, pushing his tongue inside of her mouth and making sure he stole all of her breath away. By the time he pulled back she was sufficiently light headed to slump against him and he pulled out, turning them around again and throwing her over the edge of the sofa near them. He pushed her front further down into the cushion and propped her ass up, her waist snug against the armrest, and impaled her again, making her groan.

His pace was punishing. He didn't know where he summoned the energy from, but he was relentless. She felt so good around him, her words had been so reassuring. He felt safe. He felt like he was in control, like she'd said. He could reign it in. He could fight his primal tendencies. He still wanted to punch that fucking bastard, but he recognized that he could control his actions even if he couldn't control his feelings of jealousy and possessiveness. He loved her. She was his. He couldn't stand the thought of another man touching her like that. Where did being human stop and where did his violent streak begin? He didn't know, but she was right. He'd been in control.

And he was in control now. She let him be in control. She gave this to him, trusted him, always put herself in his palms like putty trusting him to take care of her, to push her to the brink and then catch her when she fell.

"So good. So good for me, sweetheart," he pulled away and kneeled in between her thighs, pushing them further apart and burrowing his face against her wet cunt.

"Oh god!"

He held her by her thighs, pulling her flush against his face, eating her out like a man starved. He needed her to come, needed her to let go. He'd been so close, he had to reign it in.

"That's it," he slapped her ass soundly. "Drench me, baby, want you coming all over my face. And then I'll have you coming all over my cock," he slapped her ass again and again and kneaded her cheeks in his palms as he pushed his tongue inside her, throwing her off the edge.

When she came down from her high he kicked his pants off along with his briefs and sat on the sofa, and he fully intended to grab her from underneath her arms and scoop her into his lap but she was quicker. Still propped over the armrest, she grabbed a hold of his painfully hard cock and got her mouth on him. He humoured her for a bit but finally tugged her hair and yanked her off of him. "Fuck baby, you're too good. I want to finish inside you. Get up here."

On shaky legs, she straddled him on the couch and he sank into the backrest, letting her move over him and love on him the way she wanted. He enjoyed her slower pace, the deep kisses, enjoyed mouthing at her breasts and her tugging at his hair but soon he was on edge again, and he'd promised her he'd make her come again. "Touch yourself, darling. Come on. Show daddy how you rub that pussy."

She moaned, throwing her head back and doing as instructed and his eyes darkened again seeing her bruised flesh. He groaned, grabbing her hips and slamming into her, getting impossibly deep inside her. "Oh my god! Oh god, oh god! Fuck! Daddy, don't stop!"

"Never!" He gritted his teeth. "Want you to feel me for days, never forget whose you are."

"Yours," she mewled, her kitten ears having fallen off her head at one point, her drawn on whiskers smudged. She was perfect. And she was his.

"Mine. All mine. Come for daddy, baby. Show me what a good girl you are."

"Yes! Please! Fuck!"

As soon as he felt her clenching around him he let go, pressing her against his groin and letting her milk him for all he was worth. "God, I love you."

She slumped against him, pushing him into the backrest, both panting heavily. "I love you too, so much. Never doubt it again. Alright?" She lazily pulled back a bit to look him in the eye.

He nodded solemnly, "I never did. I just... want to be worthy of your love. Never want to disappoint you again..."

"I never want to disappoint you again, either," she searched his eyes. "But this is the only way we can do it. Together. Talking. Communicating. Loving eachother. Ok? Never try to hide from me. It's us."

He kissed her, squeezing her flush against him. "It's us."

Daddy issues- Masterlist

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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pluviophile-imagines · 2 years

Note

pluuuvi if possible could I order ur bf kuroo with 16 and 25 🥹🤲🏻

16: The low, steady purr of a big orange tabby curled up, slumbering 25: The first dark morning, pitch black when there once was sunlight MONTY MY BELOVED tysm for sending this in i hope u enjoy 🥺 i went a lil out of the box but i think its so sweet,,,,,, friends to lovers morning after plot bunny

The sky outside is only just beginning to brighten, nothing that could be called sunrise yet to appear. The apartment is dark and chill as you pad through it carefully, praying you won’t wake its occupant before you manage to make it out the front door. You hadn’t entirely anticipated doing this before dawn, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. You need to be gone before he wakes up, or he’ll convince you to stay.

In your haste your socked foot slams into a table, sending pain shooting up from your toe. You wince, biting down the impulse to yelp, squeezing your eyes shut where you stand and listening for the sound of your friend (the one you should not have spent the night with, the one you should not be crushing on, the one whose bed you should not sleep in because he's your friend and you won't be able to take it when he tells you to leave in the end) shifting and waking within his bed. There’s nothing, so you straighten.

And pause. A large orange cat sits on the back of the couch, staring at you with big green eyes. She’s statuesque as she regards you, entirely still, and you’re about to turn to leave when she blinks once, slow and purposeful.

“Fine,” you whisper. “I’ll pet you, you spoiled brat.”

When you approach she finally leaps down on silent feet, a blur of pumpkin fur that brushes up against your shin and leads you past the couch to the tall cat tree she frequents.

You wait for her to hop up, watch her circle in place for a good few turns and kneed the plush cushion with delicate paws before she finally settles down and looks up at you expectantly.

It only takes a few strokes for her to fully sink down, eyes shutting as her chest rises and falls more and more rhythmically until the low, smooth sound of purring begins to fill the quiet room. You smile; it’s a sweet scene.

“You’re her favorite, you know.”

The voice that speaks is low and rich, still husky with sleep, and in the quiet of the morning it fills the empty apartment comfortably. It still makes you jump, straightening from how you’ve stooped to pet the cat. Kuroo’s hands fly to your waist to steady you, the warmth of them seeping through the hastily thrown on shirt you’d retrieved from the floor of his bedroom, and for a moment you raise your own to remove them. But then he’s pressing himself up against your back, tucking his face into the back of your neck and letting out a content sigh, and you’re resisting the urge to melt back into his hold.

“Her favorite?”

“Of all my friends you’re the only one she’s really warmed up to. She doesn’t even fall asleep with Kenma around.”

You snort despite yourself. “Oh, I bet he loves that.”

Ordinarily he would respond in turn, give a full chuckle and take the excuse to shittalk his best friend, but he busies himself with something different. You fall quiet as he presses a kiss to your nape, and when he pulls away your breath hitches. He gives you another further towards the crook of your neck, and then another down your shoulder, which is laid bare by how wide the collar of your shirt is. You shiver, and it’s assuredly not from the chill; not with how warm you feel, not with the heat of him draped around you.

“She wants you to stay,” he murmurs against your shoulder.

The attempt earns him a breathy puff of laughter. “Yeah, she wants me to stay.”

“It’s cold. She wants you to come back to bed.”

“I think she wants us to leave her alone so she can sleep in peace.”

“Coming back to bed is leaving her alone, except I get to hold you and the bed won’t be so cold.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Your hand raises without you willing it, finding his face to cradle his jaw, and he turns into it with another of those deep, rumbling noises of content that makes your heart flutter.

“Tetsu, I—” You sigh, taking a moment to collect yourself. He presses his face further into your palm and meets your gaze with those pretty grey eyes, but you break the contact immediately, casting your own back down to the cat as your face heats up. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll never want to go.”

“Mmm.” He hums, still all low and rumbly, and reaches up to take the hand that cradles his face. Lacing your fingers with his, he keeps ahold of it and leans in to press his forehead to your temple. “Well, I already never want you to go, so we’ll be even.”

And what are you supposed to do with that except let him lead you back to bed?

#ask.🌧#shibaraki #pluvi’s pals #mine.🌧#char.🌧 kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #haikyuu x reader

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crackinglamb · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Tagged by @theluckywizard, thank you! 💕

Tagging...uh, whoever has something they want to share. Yes, that means you.

I've been a bit out of the loop lately. I've had a metric butt ton of IRL things going on and the Muse has been burned out sleeping. BUT! Suddenly! I fell into an old fandom and had Ideas(tm). So I've been writing sporadically and generally enjoying myself. Have a nice chunk.

---

The trouble with being semi-employed by a vampire was the hours she now kept. It was after two in the morning, and she should have been sleeping. Instead, she was curled up in the living room with a book, Gran’s afghan tucked around her legs. The empty mug from her cocoa sat on the coffee table. She heard the car pull up, recognized the purr of the corvette and only glanced at the door. He had a key of his own. It had only made sense that he should since he was often here for one reason or another.

Eric was always larger than life, and no less so this evening as he strode into the living room like he owned it. He was still wearing his Fangtasia ‘uniform’. Black jeans, form fitting tank top, leather jacket, matching boots and belt. He sat on the couch, throwing one arm across the back of it. His long legs sprawled under the coffee table. She bookmarked her page and looked at him. Drank him in, really. It had been probably a week since they’d seen each other in person. He seemed to be cataloging her, as well. She would bet that his lascivious look was stronger than hers, although she might not bet that much. She ignored the way his nose wrinkled when he smelled her hot cocoa mix. He wasn’t generally bothered by human food smells, but he thought drink mixes were cheating. Which was entertaining considering he couldn’t possibly know the difference, not being able to consume them.

“So why did I take a stroll that didn’t hardly accomplish anythin’ tonight?” she asked, putting more drawl in her voice than was strictly necessary.

“You were closest. And I had someone breathing down my neck.”

Not literally, of course. Vampires didn’t breathe, as a rule. But he did try to keep up with his idioms, to her endless amusement. “I figured,” she said aloud. “What with the formal address and all.”

“I like it when you’re clever, lover.”

“Thank you,” she simpered falsely, batting her eyelashes at him. It cracked the stoic stone-face and he started to smile. But it didn’t last, because this wasn’t a social call. At least, not at present. “So, can you tell me what’s really going on?”

#tagged #wip whenever #sookie x eric #southern vampire mysteries #true blood #canon mashup #y'all know me; never met a canon I couldn't yeet

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holylulusworld · 2 years

Text

The devil's assistant - Prologue

Summary: Being the jack of all trades to Homelander makes your life miserable. You find a way to fuck him over...literally.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader (main pairing); Homelander x fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: we all hate Homelander here, Homelander being the ass he is, concurrence, language, angst

A/N: Just a little prologue before the story gets...dirty...

A/N2: I do not follow the plot of the show. (mostly)

The devil’s assistant masterlist

He snaps his fingers in front of your face and forces you to focus on him, not the chaos going on right now. You hate how he makes you feel. Small. Worthless. Dehumanized. One single mistake and you lost your life, job, and freedom.

How could you ever … never mind. That’s a story to tell on another day. Not today. What’s more important happens right in front of you.

A miracle some people said.

A disaster the supes said.

A hot piece of ass, you said.

“Best timing ever to show up, Soldier Boy. Maybe you can teach blondie a lesson in being a hero and throw a few punches at him,” you whisper to yourself.

“What did you just say?” it’s not as if Homelander didn’t hear you talk. He just wants you to admit your lapsus and beg for forgiveness.

The supe still doesn’t know why he didn’t kill you yet. Somehow he likes to push you around more than adding you to his long list of victims.

“I said it’s cool they found him,” you watch the scene unfold, smirking to yourself as the girls in the front row start to scream. “As I said…nice piece of ass…”

They found Soldier Boy, one of the strongest supes, alive after decades of being hidden in an abandoned laboratory. He was in a tank, kept alive but unconscious, waiting to wake one day. His wild hair and long beard are a stark contrast to his piercing green eyes.

He looks like a lunatic fresh out of an asylum, a wild man to anyone but you.

“I-“ his voice fails for now and he looks for help. There is a pull toward the new or rather original supe you can’t explain. “I will answer all of your questions. I just woke.” He coughs a little.

Everyone told him to not step in front of the cameras yet. But Soldier Boy insisted on showing the world he’s still out there, doing his best to save this rotten world.

“Soldier Boy shouldn’t be here,” Homelander huffs next to you. He puffs his chest before crossing his thick arms over it. “He’s an outdated model. Just look at him. He can barely talk.”

“He just woke from a decade-long sleep, Sir,” you grit out. You don’t know why you defend the stranger leaving the podium. He’s just another supe wanting attention and to make money. None of them is a hero to you. You learned this lesson years ago and paid your price.

“Whatever. Get back inside and get me my food. I hate waiting,” as if you don’t know the self-declared God next to you hates waiting, or anything else in this world but his reflection in the mirror.

“On my way, Sir,” he hisses as you glare up at him. “Food extra spicy for you.” You walk off, ignoring he catches up with you without any effort. That bastard and his freaking abilities.

All you want is to go to your room, curl on your couch and watch another episode of your favorite guilty pleasure. No such luck. Your master wants to toy with you for a little longer today.

“How was that?” another deep voice purrs next to you. Great, now you are sandwiched between two supes. “I bet I will have them eating out of my hand soon enough. All the girls almost threw their panties at me. I could smell their arousal.”

Great job Soldier Boy. Now you are wet too. It’s not as if you don’t have enough lovers on your plate already. What’s one more, right?

“If the gentlemen would excuse me,” you walk a little faster to get away from your boss and the man from another time. “I guess you want to talk in private…”

“Do you fuck her too or is she just a maid?” Soldier Boy asks, and you roll your eyes. You wouldn’t poke Homelander with a stick. He’s the only guy you’ll never fuck…never…

“Why do you ask?” Homelander grunts when he believes you are too far away to hear him. “She’s my personal assistant. Keep your eyes and hands off her.”

“Yeah, keep your hands off her,” Queen Maeve singsongs as she admires your ass in your too-tight jeans. “Other people might get the wrong idea and want to have a piece of her too…” she smirks darkly. “See you later, or not…”

>> Part 1

Tags in reblog.

#The devil's assistant - prologue #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #homelander #homelander x reader #angst #the boys fanfiction

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years

Text

Warnings: SMUT, husbandau!, aged up Johnny (by a little, he's around 32), sex without a condom, he fucks you back to sleep

You're usually not one to wake so easily. Well, truthfully, it's just your willpower in allowing yourself to be released from the peace of slumber that's weak. However, your body seems to know exactly what it wants before your mind does.

You're a little vexed to be pulled from your dream by the throbbing between your legs, the content in said dream being the cause for it. You can feel the slight slickness of arousal as you rub your thighs together underneath the comforter.

Instinctually, you reach over your husbands side, only to find an empty space where he'd usually be lying. Mouth agape, hair a messy halo around his peaceful, enchanting face, and all yours to rub up against and hopefully rouse.

You're a little upset, admittedly. Not at him, it's quite the normal occurrence for him to get up in the middle of the night to do some reading when he can't sleep; you just wish that you weren't so needy and desperate to feel the warmth of his palms against your skin. You wish your dream would have let him continue touching you, if waking up to his absence was the ladder.

Even so, not even your dreams can do him justice.

You begrudgingly pull yourself from the warmth of the bed, the floor cold against your bare feet as you walk to the door, and out the room. It's not hard to scout him from the top of the staircase, sat in his usual spot on the far right corner of the couch, a book perched between his long fingers.

He doesn't notice you at first as you descend towards him, too engrossed in his novel, black rimmed glasses perched on the elegant bridge of his nose.

You really are sort of sad for the people who might not ever get to see him like this, bare faced and still heartwrenchingy beautiful in a loose tee shirt and sweats fit for bed. He makes your chest unbearably warm.

"I'm coming to sit on your lap." Your voice is quiet enough to not startle him completely, being any louder would be unnecessary anyways since it's just the two of you.

A warm smile tugs at the corner of his heart shaped lips, his adoring eyes finding yours in the dim light of the livingroom. He corners his page and leans over to place it on the coffee table, before opening his wide arms in a welcoming manner.

"What woke you, sweetheart?" He presses a kiss to the crown of your head as you settle against his sturdy frame, knees locked on either side of his hips, hands warm between the broad plane of his back and the cushions that he's reclined against.

"Mm, a dream." He feels you smile against his neck, and suddenly realizes exactly what type of dream it was, as your lips place a deliberate kiss to the soft skin just under his ear. He'd be able to guess your advances under any circumstances.

Still, he decides to feign obliviousness, the timbre of his voice sending vibrations through your chest as he speaks.

"Oh really? What kind of dream was it," His hands, wide and fever inducing, rub your back, up and down. "was it a nightmare?"

You shake your head, the tip of your nose gliding against the sharp edge of his jaw, absentmindedly admiring his familiar, redolent scent.

"It was a good dream, too good." His resolve to be teasingly indifferent begins to crumble when you wiggle your hips against his crotch like that, your underwear leaving such a thin layer between your pussy, and his dick that sits freely underneath his pajama bottoms; half hard and twitching.

His hands venture lower so he can cup the softness of your bum, a shiver of excitement slithering up your spine and raising the hairs on the back of your neck. Your body and senses alike will never not respond to him.

"Well, tell me what happened baby," You let out a gasp against his throat as he guides your hips to rut against him, spurring you on with a voice that is almost akin to a purr. "I bet it had something to do with us, hmm?"

All you can do is hum, too easily enthralled by the feel of his length and the friction the cloth covering it provides for your clit. It's still an overwhelming thing, knowing he's yours, completely. It's been two years since getting married, and you're almost positive it'll always be this all consuming.

He knows you so well too, content with taking influence over the situation. After all, it's one of his favorite things; to have you in such an intimate way, to love you in all the ways he knows will have you putty in his hands.

"Let's see..." He begins, pushing his hips up against you in a manner that is too slow, and too light for your liking. "did I have my mouth on you? Was I making you feel good with my tongue?"

Heat fills your belly, thighs trembling slightly. Your soft whimper is melodic in his ear, your face nuzzled against his neck. He shivers.

"Or maybe, hmm...maybe I was fucking you," He doesn't give you time to asnwer his questions nor does he speak as if he is demanding one. He's taking his time, working you up.

"I'll bet I was holding you just like this, huh baby? Bet I was making you cry over my cock."

Your body lurches from the surge of arousal that shoots through you like a lighting bolt, piercing all other senses and forcing you to whine out into the quiet room. The rise and fall of his chest accelerates.

"Please, will you fuck me?" Your fingers are grasping the front of his shirt, head moving from the juncture of his neck to his face, the puffs of air from his plush mouth, warm against your lips.

He cups your face, not needing to strain his eyes in the dark room to already know your eyes are pleading. He feels it in the way you quiver against him, too.

"Of course, whatever you want." He smiles into the kiss, expecting it, awaiting it eagerly.

Your arms settle around his neck, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape that are a little bit longer than usual since he hasn't been able to get a haircut. You say it makes him look pretty, so he's okay with it.

He senses your urgency when your tongue slips into his mouth. He responds quickly by skimming past it with his own, skillful fingers moving between your bodies to pull his length from his sweats.

He's properly hard now, twitching. It's no surprise, he's always been weak for you. Too weak, he finds it embarrassing, but he wouldn't change a thing. There's no one he'd rather be a fool for.

You suck in a breath when you feel him pulling your panties to the side, your mouths parting for just a moment as your foreheads rest against eachother. He feels your jaw go a little slack in the way it always does when he first slides it in, and he bites down on his lip.

When you sink all the way down, backs of your thighs pressed to the top of his, he lets out a satisfied sigh, clinging onto you tighter with arms that encapsulate you like a boa.

You're thankful he takes care of you, his long legs give him leverage and allowing him to thrust into you from the bottom as you grind down onto him with a shared rythym. Your soft whines in his ear have him groaning.

"O-oh John." Your cheek rests against his shoulder, hands slipping underneath his shirt and settling on his trim waist. His skin is so warm underneath your fingers, muscles bulging from underneath the smooth surface as he works.

"Feels good baby?" His voice falters just for a second, your use of his formal name still sending throbs of warmth through his veins even after several years. Such a simple notion, so powerful when it's passing your lips.

And of course you've taken note of this, expecting the sudden and momentary fervour of his hips as they buck up into you, jolting you both as you cling to him.

You cry out, practically buried in his chest. You can smell the soap from his earlier shower clinging to his skin, the scent of the dryer sheets you used in the laundry on his soft tee shirt. Little things.

"Feels s-so good, your dick is so good." You might be slightly incoherent to anyone else, voice hiccupy through his thrusts as he hits such a sweet spot inside of you, you squeeze around him.

"I know sweetheart, you take it so well, so so well," his tone is a bit rougher now, you can tell by the sloppiness of his thrusts that he's close. But he'd never allow himself to finish first when he knows you need him so badly, woke up just to come find him.

"My sweet sweet girl, want you to cum all over me." He can feel you flutter around him, the sound of your wetness leaving an ache in his belly.

You kiss him, hard, and for a moment all you know is him. The slip of his tongue in your mouth, his nose pressed against yours, eyelashes tickling your cheek. For a moment it is as if your body never got used to being in the arms of someone so incredible.

You rock your hips against him, suckling his kiss bitten bottom lip as his cock throbs inside of you. At this point you'd never be able to wear a condom with him unless absolutely necessary, too used the feeling every vein and ridge of his thick length, the way it pulses when you say his name.

He's perfect for you, hits every spot like he's got you mapped out. His hands, big and warm come to grip your hips to help you fuck him, feeling your fatigue from the pleasure and lack of sleep alike.

"Cum for me baby, come on." He coos, kissing your neck so sweetly, in a way that makes your belly swarm with butterflies. Your clit rubbing against the area just below his navel as you grind on him combined with the warm plushness of his lips against your throat, has you meeting your end.

He holds you tightly, tighter than he has the whole night as you writhe in his inescapable arms, gasping out whines against the crook of his shoulder as you leak onto his cock. He feels the stickiness smeared on his thighs, and knows it's only gonna get messier.

He doesn't mind, not one bit, not when he can picture your expression so vividly in his head; eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy and lips swollen. You're so beautiful, too beautiful, too overwhelming.

"O-Oh baby, you're so fucking-fuck, I'm close I'm so close." He's lost now, lost in the bliss just like you are. He's pumping into your sopping entrance, the glide effortless with the abundance of your release.

"M'gonna- oh shit I'm cumming I'm cumming."

His voice is cut off by a sound so sweet you feel your lower belly swirling with a fresh wave of arousal despite your fucked out state, panting against him while he throws his head back and groans your name.

You pepper kisses along his smooth skin as he twitches, the base of his throat, over his adams apple and just under his chin. He jerks lightly as he stills inside of you, cum surely to be coating his entire length by the time he pulls out.

You're spent, still you search for his lips, missing and accidentally kissing his soft cheek before he turns his head to meet you halfway.

Your heart soars in your chest, he smiles against you and rubs your thighs soothingly, as you find your rightful place under his chin and tucked against him, your safe place.

He smiles to himself, stroking your skin.

"I love you." He states is earnestly, steadily despite his heart beat that still thunders. You're vaguely aware of the rumble in his chest as he speaks, but you're not sure if you're dreaming or not.

He looks down, and you're already asleep.

"Alright, let's get you to bed."

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justsomeclintasha · 3 years

Text

Two days, six hours, twenty nine minutes

Her voice is hoarse from the screams that had torn at her throat. Lack of water probably isn’t helping. She stares at the man in the bed before her. They’ve cleaned the blood away, but a mess of bruises and a swollen lip decorate his face. She can’t see the extent of the bandages underneath the blanket. The steady rise and fall of his chest tells her that he’s alive.

“Nat?” She doesn’t look up as Tony enters the room. He dumps a bag in her lap. “Come on. Get a shower and get changed. You’re covered in blood and you’re gross. I’ll stay with him.” She doesn’t move. “He won’t want to see you like this when he wakes up.” Her jaw clenches she grabs the bag and ducks into the attached bathroom.

Two days, seven hours, four minutes

Her hair is damp and she’s finally allowed herself to take his hand. She holds it delicately as if he’s a piece of china ready to break.

“I have a cat. Sort of. It’s not really my cat. It lives near one of my safe houses- you know, the one with the little German lady that has the flower shop? I guess it’s really her cat but it comes to visit me. It’s an ugly skinny thing. It’s grey. It’s nothing special.” Tony slips in quietly and sits on the chair next to her. He sets a bottle of water on the side table between them. “Once I let it in the apartment and it slept on the couch with me. I guess it doesn’t have fleas. I woke up and it was laying on my chest and it was so warm. I never heard a cat purr before and I could feel it vibrating through my chest. I didn’t even move it. I just went back to sleep.”

Three days, one hour, seventeen minutes

Tony requests a couch for the room. He promises to stay until she wakes up. She fights to keep her eyes open, but a few short minutes later she’s out. He replaces the two empty water bottles on the table with full ones.

“We need you,” he says softly to his friend in the hospital bed. “We all need you.”

Four days, fifteen hours, thirty two minutes

He’s used to her stories by now. She doesn’t seem to mind him listening. He’s not even sure she notices when he’s there. An empty sandwich wrapper sits on the table today and he’s glad she’s eaten something.

“Suddenly it was snowing, the horrible cold, windy, blowing snow and it was just so ridiculous because we couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I look back and Steve is just standing there like a giant popsicle because I told him to pack a heavier coat but of course he didn’t listen and the look on his face-“ she laughs, shaking her head. “And then he says we could sled down the mountain and I thought he was joking but he grabbed this old sled from the shed, I don’t even know how it held our weight and we tumbled at the end. And we were both laughing so hard tears ran down our faces but they just froze cuz it was so goddamn cold. Do you remember that cabin in the mountains we had to stay it with no heat? You were so mad. Thank god we found that firewood.” She reaches out, her fingers running slowly through his hair, then again. She blinks rapidly. Tony doesn’t say anything.

Five days, nine hours, eight minutes.

Her thumb traces circles on the back of his hand. She’s been quiet for a while, but Tony knows better than to ask. He sits in his chair, hoping his presence reassures her. She sips the coffee he brought her.

“I bet you miss your coffee, hm? It reminds me of that coffee shop you took me to. The first one. You ordered us both a peppermint mocha latte and I didn’t know what the hell it was. I was so used to black coffee but you saw right through it and found my sweet tooth. Now even Tony knows I like cream and sugar in it. I thought I was good at hiding that secret for a long time. But you saw all my secrets, didn’t you? You saw my coffee and my books and you saw.. you saw that..” She stops, her breath rattling as she turns her eyes to the ceiling. “You saw me and you gave me a chance.” Her voice cracks and she presses her hand to her mouth to muffle a sob. “You have to come back to me, Clint, please you have to, please-“ She stands up suddenly and without thinking, Tony does too. She doesn’t resist when he wraps his arms around her. When he feels her knees start to give he lowers them both to the couch. She breaks down.

Six days, ten hours, fifty five minutes.

A soft groan. Tony stirs in his chair, half awake. He’s surprised to see a pair of steel grey eyes looking back at him.

“Natasha?” The urgency in his voice is enough to wake her and before he can say anything else she’s in the chair by Clint’s side. The archer blinks sleepily at her. She whispers his name. The corners of his mouth turn as though he wants to smile, even though she knows he’s in pain. He draws in a slow breath.

“How are you feeling?” He inclines his head in a nod, the simple action requiring too much effort. His fingers twitch. She slips her hand in his and he squeezes. It’s light, it’s weak, but it’s there. It’s a promise. I won’t leave you. I see you. I love you.

She squeezes back.

#clintasha #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff

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pumpkin-pi-e · 3 years

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Ah, dang. Now I wanna make a prompt about darling being skittish around them. They can’t figure out why you never look them in the eye, and wriggle like the caterpillar.

Smol!Reader

“Kitty, why’re you running from us?”

It’s fine when they’re sitting down.

Everything is chill.

Everybody’s chill.

But when they stand up, the good times stop, so does the camaraderie and laughter. ‘Cause damn are they tall compared to smol you.

“No, babe, come back! There’s just more of us to love!”

Aizawa tries to show you the advantages of having tall lovers. If you need something he grabs it from the cabinet for you.

“Isn’t that easier than using tongs?”

(They think it’s cute, and honestly, kind of humorous how you stand on your tippy-toes and jump with the tongs.)

They get you a step ladder. Though they prefer hoisting you up on their shoulders—letting you grab whatever you want.

“Bet ya never had a view this nice, boo.”

“All the better to cover you with.” Shouta plops on top of you like a blanket.

“All the better to love you with.” Hizashi snuggles into you, wrapping his limbs around you.

He’s not letting go.

— — —

Advantages of smol darling?

We all know Hizashi is bad about picking you up and carrying you off to wherever whenever he wants.

Shouta likes to borrow you for his naps. He hugs you to his chest while he cozies up for a snooze on the couch. He enjoys your weight against him—loves having you close. (His arms are locked around your back. You aren’t escaping. Not until nap times are over.)

He advises you to take one too.

What else are you going to do for an hour or two?

— — —

No, no, wait! Aizawa calls you kitten right? Imagine if you did that thing cats do when he’s trying to nap.

— — —

At the additional weight on his chest, ebony eyes blearily open until they adjust enough to focus. They squint up at you.

“Yes, kitten?”

The hero’s voice is gruff from sleep, smoky and exceptionally deep; it’s almost a rumble, and the vibration travels through you in pleasurable tingles. You shiver in satisfaction.

You feel it in your core.

Even half-asleep, he’s delighted by your company. He’d never deprive of you his, and offers a somnolent smile. You had an annoying habit of disturbing his rest. He couldn’t figure out why, but he suspected you were being playful.

He was always so warm.

You snoozle into his chest. You’d never admit it, but his baritone after awakening from a nap was incredibly sexy. The deeper the sweeter. You must have been taking too long to answer because his eyes slowly droop shut. You nuzzle into his nose to wake him up. He groans, throwing an arm over his face in exasperation.

Is he not giving you enough attention?

Do you need more engagement?

Why’re you doing this to him?

You tell papa bear Shouta to growl/purr for you.

You’re picked up with a deadpan (much like a misbehaving cat) and dumped into the voice hero’s lap without a word before he retreats and returns to his nap.

He’ll do it for you after he wakes up.

#obviously I cannot do this because it would leave out tall reader #I’d have to do the tall version and I know nothing of being tall 🤣#let me stop before I make a headcanon or something #this is an excuse to use my new line breaks #domestic headcanons #no you can’t have context #yandere erasermic x reader #do you like bite sized fluff? 👀

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Present

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Voyeurism, Masturbation in shower, Sexting, Oral Sex, Dom/sub, Protected Sex, Established Aaron/Sophie Summary: Sophie sends Aaron a sexy video while he’s away on a case, Spencer watches it, and smut ensues. Collection: Part 1 of 5 of Present, Perfect, Patient, Promise, Pretend series Note: This is a previously published work from A03, just moving it over to tumblr because I was thinking about it today. 🤤 Link to A03 or read below! “I sprained my ankle. I’m not injured, not really. I can even walk on it,” Sophie assures as she pours them each a cup of coffee in the break room. She sets the carafe down, takes a step, wobbles, and Aaron catches her around the waist with a raised eyebrow of judgement. “Okay, so I can’t walk that well, but I can certainly sit in a conference room bouncing ideas around and drinking coffee. That’s all Rossi does, anyway.” He chuckles softly, knows she’s still… warming up, to Rossi and his idiosyncrasies.

“You know the rules.”

“Yeah, because we’re so good at following the rules,” she teases with a smirk, running her hands down his stomach, stopping at his belt. He looks over at the bullpen out of the corner of his eye, shoots her a warning look that makes her sigh and pull away.

“Think of it as choosing our battles,” he suggests, hoping that might get her back on track. “If you want to continue making out in my office, you have to stay here this one time.” She smiles, crooked, nods her head.

“Okay, when you put it that way, I’ll take the make outs.”

“I thought you might. Plus, you get to spend all day with Garcia. I figured that would be like a dream come true.”

“It is, definitely. It’s more the long, cold, nights that I’m worried about.” He sighs, because she’s being so dramatic, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of making him smile again. He can’t be looking as smitten and infatuated with her as he is all of the time. “I’m going to be so lonely.”

“Oh, I think you’ll manage without sex for a few nights,” he teases, and she looks scandalized, as if that wasn’t exactly what she was getting at.

“It’s not about sex, it’s about intimacy, comfort, sharing my bed with a big heavy man who scares away the bad dreams.” She grins lecherously and he prepares to roll his eyes. “And who has a dick that won't quit.”

“Like I said,” he enunciates, taking his travel mug of coffee for the road, “you’ll be fine for a few nights. If you do decide to touch yourself, though, make sure you send me a present,” he reminds her, because they aren’t separated often, but when they are, a couple of racy pictures or videos almost always exchange hands. He bends for a quick kiss on the lips, brushes her cheek. “I love you. Behave.”

“I love you,” she murmurs, all tenderness and no heat, now. “Be safe.” Two days after taking the case, the team is on the jet for a night flight home. Spencer is tired, but he can’t sleep; JJ is stretched out on the couch, Morgan and Emily are slumped over in their seats up front with pillows and headphones, and Rossi has been snoring softly since they took off, so it’s just him and Hotch awake. They are in seats next to each other, Spencer by the window, because he knew he would be a little restless, and that Hotch wouldn’t sleep, so it seemed like the safest bet if he didn't want to disturb anyone’s rest.

He also enjoys the comforting presence of the older man, always, but especially in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the flight home.

He tries to listen to music, a podcast, but he eventually pauses it and just rests his eyes, his head, listens to Hotch as he flips pages or taps away at his phone. He’s probably texting Sophie, who’s home with a sprained ankle and who hasn’t stopped grumbling about it since. He smiles at the thought, likes when she’s comfortable enough to complain to him. Likes being someone she turns to.

He sighs. Feelings are complicated. Sometimes he hates being part of such a tight-knit team because it makes the things he feels all the more confusing, especially when the two objects of his (totally manageable) affection are in a relationship together; he feels like the odd man out, as always, can’t deny that it hurts sometimes.

He’s drifting in and out of the not quite asleep stage when he hears sound coming from Hotch’s phone, shuffling, ambiguous noises. He lifts his eyelids just slightly to see a video up on the screen, a wall that looks vaguely familiar, like a bathroom, maybe. There’s nothing particularly intriguing about that, but then he sees a pair of smooth, bare legs standing inside a bathtub and his interest is… piqued.

There’s another sound, unmistakably a shower being turned on, and then the woman—it is Sophie, no doubt; even if he can’t see her face, the tattoo on her forearm is easily identifiable—squats down, and she is so gloriously naked that he just… freezes. His body and his mind are suspended in a conflicting state of this is wrong, I shouldn’t be seeing this, and this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, and why is Hotch watching this right now, with me right next to him, and hnnng.

She pulls the shower head into view, lets it pour over her hair from what he can see of it, then down her breasts, her stomach, arms and legs; after that, she adjusts it to a stream that is harder and more controlled than one would typically use in the shower. He wonders why, thinks it could be uncomfortable, until she moves it to hover over her pussy, moaning softly, and then he really, really gets it.

His heart is racing as she runs her hand over her body, thumbing at her nipples, sighing at her own touch. She rocks back and forth a little so the stream of water hits her clit, then lower, between her lips, against her opening, and Spencer swallows hard.

“Mmm,” she sighs, and the sound goes straight through him; he feels himself getting hard as she murmurs, pressing her hand against the rim of the tub for leverage. “Mmm, yeah.” He can see that Hotch is breathing heavily next to him, eyes fixed on the screen. It’s too dark in the cabin to see his lap, but he knows he must be aching in his pants, too, wonders what it would be like if he reached out and touched him there.

Sophie is incredibly gorgeous as she works to reach her climax, bouncing lightly on her heels as the pressure builds, her moans longer and louder, but it’s when she stops moving and presses the shower head closer, directly over her clit, that he knows she’s almost ready to come.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” she whines, pinching a nipple, arching her back, and her voice is high and breathy and addictive. He would give anything to be in the same room as those sounds, to pull her wet body close and help her get off. “Fuck, mmm,” she purrs, bringing the stream even closer, and she comes, short, loud moans that sound like they’re being ripped from her throat as her thighs shake, her chest heaves.

She drags a slow hand down her body, like she’s soothing herself, and then shudders, pulls the shower head away like maybe the pressure is too much where she’s sensitive. With a sigh, she reaches for the phone, tilts it so her face is in view, cheeks flushed and wet hair clinging to her shoulders. She turns up her lips in a coy smile. “See you soon.” The video ends.

It takes Hotch a moment to lock his phone, and he looks a little dazed when Spencer risks a glance up at his face—with good reason. If he was on the receiving end of videos like that, he would never be able to focus on anything.

The rest of the trip is quiet, certainly uneventful in comparison. Spencer makes a show of opening his eyes fully, stretching, thinks it would be too awkward now to admit he saw and heard every incredible second; Hotch looks over at him with an expression he can’t read, and then flips open a new case file.

When they land, he and Hotch are the last two to grab their bags, and Hotch brushes up against him in a way that feels purposeful, but is probably wishful thinking. “Do you have anything going on for the rest of the night?” he asks, and Spencer shakes his head.

“Nope, nothing.” Maybe masturbating—definitely masturbating—but he doesn’t need to know that. Hotch nods, thoughtful.

“You should come home with me.” Spencer looks at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“We both know that you saw the video,” he says in a low, no nonsense tone that makes him gulp. “I told Sophie, and she seemed… interested in the prospect. So you should come home with me. If you want to.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Hotch raises a hand, halting his train of thought.

“I may have had a suspicion that you were awake when I chose to play the video, so don’t be so hard on yourself.” Spencer looks at his face, trying to determine if he’s saying what he thinks he’s saying. He did that on purpose? He knew that Spencer was watching? “No pressure, if you don’t want to come over. I would never want you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I do want to… do… whatever it is we’re doing,” he rambles awkwardly, and Hotch chuckles.

“What we're doing is having sex. And I won’t touch you, or anything, if you don’t want that. It can be me and Sophie and you and Sophie.” Spencer swallows hard again, so turned on and breathless that it makes him feel bold.

“What if I do want you to touch me?” he asks, and Hotch leans in slowly, hot breath at his ear.

“Then I’m going to touch you.” When he pulls away, his fingers brush over Spencer’s jaw. “Do you want to come home with me?”

His answer is an emphatic yes. Aaron is due home any minute, and Sophie is vibrating with nervous energy, puttering around the apartment in her robe, couldn’t sit still if she tried. She waits for him on nights he has to work late and can’t bring it home, sure, but it’s almost never like this, where they are apart for days on end. It’s seriously affecting not only her sex drive, but also her mental state, which she hadn’t expected; she feels clingy, needy already, wants to smell him and touch him and taste him and be caged in by him, and it’s frankly getting a little out of hand.

It doesn’t help, she guesses, that she sent that video, but she was horny and wanted his attention… and boy, did she get it, had several texts come through a couple of minutes after she sent it, all very sweet and dirty and good.

Then she saw one about Reid, wanted to be mortified, but she just… wasn’t.

A: So, Reid saw me watching your present.

S: Oh, really? Did he like it?

A: Yeah, he liked it.

A: I bet he’d come pretty quick if he got to see the real thing.

A: Touch you… taste you.

God, how can this calm, controlled man make her such a whimpering mess with just a couple of texts? It’s unfair, is what it is.

S: Maybe we should invite him over sometime.

S: I’ve seen him looking at you, too.

S: Imagine how pretty he would look between us.

That was about an hour ago, and the only thing she received in reply was a brief message letting her know they’d landed and that he was on the way home. She hopes she didn’t upset him, knows that he’s mentioned being interested in men but that he’s never slept with one, hopes she didn’t hit a sore spot. She promises herself they will talk about it when he gets home.

But when he gets home, he kisses her so deeply she feels faint. Her body is lit up in an instant, suddenly desperate for more of him.

“I brought you a present,” he says, so low and sexy, and she grins, breathless, wraps her arms around his neck.

“Ooh, you know I love presents. What is it?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who,” Spencer says, then, from the open doorway, and she glances between them, bites at her bottom lip. He steps inside and closes the door.

Fuck.

“Hey, Spencer,” she greets, but she can hear the tremble in her voice when she does. He looks to Aaron, and Aaron reaches back, wraps a hand around his wrist, guides him closer.

“I told him what you said, about how pretty he would look between us. He happened to agree, so I figured, why wait?” He looks her over intently, like he’s making sure she’s okay with this.

She is so okay with this.

She wants to speak but she’s so out of breath, her heart beating so fast, that she just pulls him down for a kiss, messy and graceless, and then she reaches for Spencer’s shirt and pulls him close as well, doing the same. She takes turns kissing them, ten kisses each, probably, until Aaron pushes her back gently with a soft laugh.

“Easy, baby. He’s going to stay the night; we have time to go slow.” Her chest is heaving, and he walks around so he’s standing behind her, unties the sash of her robe, pulls it off to reveal the lacy black bra and panties she thought would be a sexy surprise.

He kind of outdid her in the surprise department, but she’ll forgive him this once.

He runs his hands over her panties, her stomach, her boobs, and she bends her neck back, arching up for his lips, moaning against them. Spencer approaches, a bit hesitant, puts his hands on her hips and kisses her exposed throat, her chest. She feels like she’s died and gone to heaven, two pairs of hands on her, two mouths, her body pressed between them tightly. She thinks offhand that she’s glad her ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, because she could stand between them all night long, if they keep this up, would be content to never move again.

Then one of Spencer’s beautiful, incredible hands slips down the front of her panties, and they stop kissing her to kiss each other, and she whimpers, and her knees give out anyway.

“So dramatic,” Aaron whispers teasingly in her ear as he holds her up, big hands on her body, and she shakes her head, wets her lips.

“Not being dramatic. This is so fucking sexy.” Spencer—apparently not worried about the fact that she almost collapsed on them because Aaron wasn’t—slides two fingers over the slippery wet lips of her pussy, and she groans. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take all the attention,” she murmurs, moving her hips against his hand. “Kiss some more, please.” Spencer huffs a laugh and leans in, catches Aaron’s lips with his. From her point of view she can see the slide of their tongues, lips pressing together, and she groans again.

“If it’s okay with you,” Spencer says to her when they separate, “I would really like to eat your pussy now.” He kisses her softly on the cheek, and she exhales, shaky.

“Yeah, please—please do that.”

“I’ll hold you,” Aaron whispers, lips at her ear. “I’ll be right here, I promise.” She hums, leans back against him, and Spencer drops to his knees, guides her panties down. She’s so wet there’s slick on the insides of her thighs, and when he lifts one leg to hook her knee around his shoulder, he licks it away. She shudders.

She feels like she should have known how hot and skillful his mouth would be, because he talks so fast sometimes that his brain—his incredibly high-functioning brain—can’t even keep up, and she usually finds his mouth cute, but right now she finds it sexy, will probably never be able to look at it without thinking of the way he feels with his tongue in her pussy.

He is very enthusiastic, licking her quick and deep, with one hand on her waist and the other rubbing her clit like he’s got a PhD in bringing girls to orgasm, and she knows she’s moaning like a slut, gets even louder when Aaron bites at her earlobe, kisses her neck, squeezes her breasts. “Fuck, oh fuck, yeah,” she pants, reaches a hand down to wrap it in Spencer’s hair, making him groan; she rocks against his delicious mouth, which he encourages, moving his hand to her ass and guiding her closer.

“Come for him, baby,” Aaron urges, hand inside the cup of her bra to pinch her nipple. “Isn’t he pretty, down on his knees for you?” She drops her head back against him, brings a hand to his hair, too.

“So pretty.” He stoops down to kiss her as best as he can, and Spencer’s looking up at them, gorgeous, and she comes tugging on both of them, panting into Aaron’s mouth.

When Spencer stands up and kisses her, mouth soft and wet after working her through her orgasm, and then Aaron leans in to taste both of them on her lips? It’s a wonder she doesn’t get weak in the knees again. Sophie is soft and pliant after she comes, clinging onto them, and Aaron lifts her into his arms and carries her to the bedroom, Spencer following closely behind. He sets her on the bed, unhooks her bra and pulls it off; Spencer watches closely as he does, kneels down to kiss her, brush his hands over her bare breasts, and she sighs at the treatment.

“What do you want to do?” Aaron asks them, getting down on his knees as well, and he kisses them, thrills at the similarities in their soft lips, soft skin.

“I wanna suck you both,” she says, and he touches her face gently.

“Are you sure you’re up for that? You look a little fuzzy.” He didn’t think that she would get submissive so quickly, since he hadn’t actually dominated her, but can see how feeling at the mercy of two men might make her go to that place; he just wants to make sure he does what’s best for her while she’s there.

“Might not be able to get you off, but I want them in my mouth. Can I?” She looks up at him, then at Spencer, who swallows visibly. Aaron gave him a little insight on the way there about how they normally interact with each other, how she likes to ask for permission and he likes to give it—or deny it, depending.

(Aaron Hotchner’s crash course on having a submissive girlfriend—he might have to find a way to monetize that, somehow.)

“You can, for a couple minutes. Then what do you want?” He looks to Spencer to see if he has anything in mind.

“I don’t—I’ve never done this,” he says quietly, and he and Sophie both touch him, and she nuzzles against his shoulder.

“Neither have we, it’s okay. You want to, though?” He looks at them with soft, open eyes, and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, I want to.” Aaron takes his face in his hands, kisses him deeply.

“Okay, good. Sophie,” he says softly, touches her face too, “do you think you would be alright being with both of us at the same time?” She licks her lips and frowns a little like she’s confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could lay you down, and one of us could be inside your pussy, and one of us could be inside your mouth. I’ll take your mouth,” he decides quickly, because she doesn’t like it too fast or rough and he knows her limits, doesn’t want to hurt or overwhelm her. “You’ll be full of us, baby. Do you think you want that?” She closes her eyes, nods, and Spencer touches her throat with long, gentle fingers.

“You’d give us that?” he asks like he’s in awe, and Aaron gets it, knows how much it means that she trusts them with something like this. “You’re incredible, Sophie,” he murmurs against her lips, and she sighs, pulls him closer.

Watching them make out is a very enjoyable thing, made all the more so when he decides to come up behind Spencer to unbutton his pants, untuck his shirt. The younger man moans at the feel of his hands helping him undress, and he presses back against Aaron’s chest, panting and eager. He guides him to stand, gets him naked, and wraps a hand around his long, hard cock, stroking it a couple times.

“You want her mouth on you while I get undressed?” he asks, and Spencer bucks up into his hand, nods quickly. Sophie reaches for him, pulling him closer, and she licks at the head, moans. “Gently,” he murmurs in Spencer’s ear, “let her be in control.” He nods seriously, presses a hand to Sophie’s cheek when she takes him in.

Between the two of them, their moans are so filthy, wanton, that he craves the heat of their mouths, so he captures Spencer’s in a kiss when he can, pulling off his clothes slowly so they can enjoy the time together. “Sophie,” Spencer murmurs, and she looks up at him, and Aaron’s arms around him, and whines. She pulls off of him, licks her lips looking hungry.

“I’m ready for you guys.” The simple sentence makes his dick throb, and he lays her back on the bed, kisses her soft and sweet and slow. Spencer curls around them, kisses them and rubs his hands over their bare skin.

“Spencer, can you get in that drawer and take out a condom?” he has presence of mind to ask, glad that the ones they have should fit him, and he stretches up, all long, lithe muscles, grabs one and tears the wrapper open, rolling it on. Neither Aaron nor Sophie can take their eyes off of him, and when he’s finished, Aaron moves out of his way so he can settle between her legs. She hitches up her knees, and he knows first hand how inviting that can be, understands completely when he shivers with pleasure.

Aaron kisses Sophie a few more times, whispers sweet, loving words into her ear, and then he crawls up by her head, the tip of his dick at the same level as her mouth.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, running his hands over her breasts, and she nods, puts her hands on Spencer’s hips and pulls him closer until he is fully sheathed inside her; he keeps still, panting, and Aaron leads forward to brush his hair back. “You’re so gorgeous, Spencer,” he coos, and then he presses into Sophie's mouth, sighs.

She takes him in hand, guiding him in and out at a pace she’s comfortable with, so he just lets her take the lead and runs his hands over her body, Spencer’s fingers where they press against her thighs. He is pumping into her deeply now, an easy rhythm Sophie matches with her hand, and the room is filled with a symphony of soft, wet sounds and moans and hums that Aaron doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

He is wholly unsurprised when he is the first to come, because watching Spencer’s hips move against her, his hands careful where he holds her down, and feeling her moan around his cock because she loves feeling full, it’s all too much for him. He spills with a groan, and Spencer watches his face like it’s art, which makes him feel warm in his chest. Something to explore at a later time.

Sophie lets go of him, panting, and he slides down to his belly so he can kiss her mouth, caress her. He looks up at Spencer, who appears to be trying so hard not to come, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and he rubs Sophie’s clit to help get her close, so he’ll stop trying so hard and just let himself feel good.

“Oh, god,” Sophie whines, brings her hands up to squeeze hard at her breasts. “This is good, so good, mmm.” She starts bucking hard against him, her neck stretched long, and he knows the instant she comes, her mouth opening in a wordless moan before she all but howls her pleasure. Spencer groans, shifts his legs a little so he’s hovering over the both of them, and he thrusts for a few more seconds before finding his own orgasm. “Hmm, yes,” Sophie sighs, and he kisses her slowly, passionately; Aaron rubs both of their bodies as they shiver with aftershocks, and they all sink into the mattress, deeply spent.

They cuddle together for a few minutes, until Sophie complains she has to pee, and she and Spencer go into the bathroom together to take care of business. Aaron runs a hand through his hair and exhales long, because this is the absolute last thing he expected to happen, while also being one of the most unforgettable nights of his life; he knows they’ll look to him for guidance about what to do next, and he’s really not sure what to say when they do.

When they amble back into the room, they’re both smiling softly, and Aaron smiles because he can’t help it. They climb back onto the bed, Spencer in the middle, though Sophie reaches across him to rub at the hair on Aaron’s chest.

“So that’s a thing that happened,” Sophie says eventually, propped up on her elbow, looking over at their two blissed out faces with nothing short of affection. “Is it a thing that’s going to happen again, or a thing we swear up and down didn’t happen?—No pressure, only asking so I know how to compartmentalize my many, many thoughts.”

Aaron looks to Spencer and can’t help but feel like there’s something more worth exploring, there. He thinks Spencer feels the same when he pulls him in for a tender kiss.

“I think it should happen again,” Spencer murmurs, and Sophie leans down to kiss him too.

“Yeah, it should happen again.” Aaron sits up, smiles at his girl, guides her mouth to his.

“Okay, then.” They kiss again, easy, sweet, and he breathes a laugh. “We owe you for this, you know: you and your little shower performance.”

“Oscar worthy,” Spencer says with a grin, and Sophie shoves him playfully.

“Hey, a girl has needs.”

“And we’ll help you meet them,” Aaron promises, running a hand suggestively along her body, and she covers it with hers.

“No way. I’m tapped out, buddy. Unless I get sleep or pizza, no more sex from me tonight.” Aaron feigns hurt, pulls away, flops onto his back with an exaggerated sigh, and she crawls past Spencer to straddle his waist. “So dramatic,” she teases, leans down for a kiss, then climbs off the bed altogether. “I’m good with pizza—I don’t want to go to sleep just yet, not when I’ve got two pretty boys in my bed.”

“I second pizza,” Spencer murmurs, his face pressed against Aaron’s bicep. Sophie pauses in the doorway, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you think they’ll do a third veggie, and a third pepperoni, and a third Hawaiian? Or am I gonna have to order two pizzas?” She comes back over to the bed, kisses them both soft, affectionate, and smiles. “Always complicating things, Spencer Reid.”

#aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x original female character #latina original female character #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #spencer reid x original female character #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x reader

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

Title: The Witch

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Continuation from previous chapter. The next morning, it’s finally time to say goodbye to Peter for now to drive back to New York. But before you can fully leave, his sister Wanda wants to have a word.

Warnings: Just a taste of Wanda’s scary side really. We all know how strongly she feels about her family.

Chapters: Previous Chapter Here

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen , @ikkleroniekins , @cowboyenorgy , @the-chaotic-cow , @raincoffeeandfandoms , @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul , @petermqximqffs , @we-all-are-strange , @ifilwtmfc , @dweeb-central , @summerbee53

My Masterlist

——————————

“Pietro!” Wanda’s voice called even louder from the top of the stairs.

“Heard ya the first time!” An equally loud grumble came from a shifting mass under the blankets on the nearby bed.

“Mom made you breakfast. So get up here before she has to leave for work!”

You could hear Wanda’s footsteps recede again before you saw Peter’s head pop out from those moving blankets.

“Damn, I can’t even sleep in on my first day back in my own bed?” He complained, sitting up a little with his silver hair tousled in about every direction as his blanket slid away.

You smiled a little at the messy sight of him. But you didn’t want to move from your spot on his basement couch either. You were curled and still only half awake yourself in the new sunlight coming down from the very small basement windows.

“It does smell like cinnamon rolls though doesn’t it?” He asked, looking to you as if it was just the most natural thing in the world that you’d both be waking up again in the same room together. “It means she’s trying to guilt me you know. She’s still mad about me taking off like that.” He added, then pulling his blanket back to swing his legs off the side of the bed.

Not being able to bend his leg in the cast made it a little awkward clearly as he stood up on both feet after another moment.

“But she does make a wicked cinnamon roll. And they’re way better fresh.” He said, and you could see him looking around a little.

“Your crutches are over there,” You answered the unspoken question, sticking your hand out your blanket to point back towards the TV.

He smirked. “See? What a team we are, right?”

“Uh, huh.” You mumbled through another smile.

“Peter!” His mother’s voice called this time however, loud enough that it could be heard even from the kitchen above.

“So I lose super speed for just a few days and suddenly everyone else are the impatient ones?” He questioned with an eye roll.

You had told the Professor you would leave in the morning though. So there wasn’t much point in you stalling either as you finally stood as well. “I’ll help you up the stairs,” You offered.

Peter smirked at that though, not at all arguing with the suggestion of course as he hobbled over and threw one arm warmly over your shoulder. “And good morning by the way.” He added.

He kissed your cheek too then, only making you easily forget how likely disheveled you looked as well as you slid your hand around his waist to help support him. “Good morning, Quicksilver.”

He made a sound, what you could most liken to a purr honestly in response to the name, “I’m really going to enjoy getting some use out of that codename you know. I bet I even still have a silver jacket leftover in the closet somewhere. I can make a whole outfit for this. Hell, I’m getting to work on that a.s.a.p. after you take off.”

But as you both started up the basement stairs, you cheating of course to help levitate the both of you to spare his leg, you heard his tone change again.

“But you will call me, right? I mean, when you get back to New York. Since I won’t be able to run up there for a while.”

Was he really already doubting himself again you wondered?

But you felt some odd swell of confidence in yourself. Maybe just because you were in the middle of using your powers while this conversation was taking place. You always felt a little braver with your energy field up. “If you’re willing to give me your number, and willing to answer when I call…then of course I will.”

You were to the top of the stairs easily in moments, the basement door still open as he abruptly called out. “Mom! I need a pen!”

———————————

Peter hadn’t exaggerated about the cinnamon rolls. They were delicious. Of course, this was also your first real homemade food in a while. And comparing this to anything from that navy mess hall was hardly a competition.

Even breakfast hadn’t been without some tension however as you’d looked up surprised when a check was laid down on the table in front of you.

Your earlier confidence with only Peter seemed to have waned quickly as you then stared up into his mother’s very intent expression.

“Tell me what we owe you for that watch,” She spoke rather hurriedly, but still somewhat stern.

“Mom-” Peter tried to cut in instantly though, sounding surprised himself.

“I don’t have time for this, Peter,” She retorted just as quickly, cutting him off. “Wanda told me about it, and it isn’t right.”

But you didn’t remember Peter telling Wanda. You were clearly confused now, but you spoke anyway, “It’s fine, please, it was a gift.”

“No, he’s letting you think that it was your idea. That’s what he does. It’s a con. Now tell me, how much money did you get tricked into spending on him?” She asked just as strongly, pen in hand as she readied to write a total. “I have to leave for work in a few minutes.”

You still felt rather blindsided, and the embarrassment now coming off Peter was almost palpable. But in the end, this wasn’t your house. And the way things worked here weren’t yours to argue against either. At least not outright. There was also no one who could force you to cash this check after she wrote it anyway.

With that thought in mind, and Magda still watching you impatiently, you told her the rough cost. Honestly you hadn’t bothered to remember it exactly. It was a gift for Peter, from the money Xavier had gifted you. And it hadn’t been anything extravagant.

You knew the Professor hadn’t been upset about it, a little puzzled maybe as your continued fondness for Peter had been unexpected by everyone. But if the Professor was okay with the gift, why couldn’t Magda be?

———————————

Peter’s mother had left soon after. You’d been on the phone with the motel again though by then, letting a relieved Xavier know you would now be on your way. While talking to the Professor on the phone, you’d seen Peter and Wanda talking before Wanda walked out of the kitchen as well.

You only heard him fuss at her, something about making sure to bring an umbrella on her walk before she was out of sight.

But his concern made more sense by the time you and he were both on his doorstep as well not long after. The sky had darkened greatly, even just in comparison to when you’d woken up not much earlier.

“So…” He said, smiling at you a little.

You were turning over the car keys a little nervously in one hand. “I’ll call you when I get to the motel.” You said simply, not knowing how much else would really be right to say right now. “I hope your leg heals soon,” You added.

“Dad seemed to think it would,” He answered easily.

Referencing Erik so naturally all the sudden didn’t really surprise you though. Peter hadn’t wanted to see Magneto leave you knew. Even if he was conflicted about him, there was still so much to unpack there. Maybe in time…

A rumble of thunder in the distance caught your attention, soon followed by the first little drops of rain beginning to darken the concrete driveway.

“You better go before you get soaked.” Peter spoke, but with a reluctance in his voice that you didn’t fail to notice.

“Thank you again for everything.” You answered, watching him for a lingering moment though, before you decided to take the initiative to move forward and hug him.

He accepted the contact readily of course, pressing his chin into your shoulder as his arms tightened around you.

“Be careful,” He said in your ear. “It’s a longer drive back up there than it was down.”

“I know.” You replied, but realizing you didn’t exactly want to let go.

And he didn’t either you thought. But there was no way around it. You had to go home. Yet you did turn your face just as you felt him moving his again. He kissed you then, but a little more desperately this time.

It felt good though. It still felt good like any other time in the last few days.

But then it was over as he pulled away. “I’ll see you,” He said as his arms began to let go again. He motioned to the rental car, “Don’t get drenched on my account. Go on.”

You felt like maybe he didn’t really know how to say goodbye otherwise. Maybe the rain did make a convenient excuse. But it was alright. You squeezed his hand just once before entirely letting go. “See you, Peter.” You said, as you hurried down the steps.

By the time you did get inside the car and start it, the rain was then just beginning to fall hard enough for you to fumble a moment trying to find the right lever to start the windshield wipers.

But even through the pattering water droplets now converging on the windshield, you could see Peter smiling in amusement from the doorway as you turned the headlights off and back on again by accident before the wipers finally sprung to life.

Every car was different of course, so you felt no real embarrassment even as you could tell he was barely holding back a laugh.

Yet as you put the car into reverse, watching the side mirrors to make sure you didn’t get a tire off into the edge of the Maximoff’s neat little lawn, you saw Peter wave in your peripheral vision.

You waved back reflexively, then fully in the street before you shifted back into drive. Even with the rain running down the windows, you didn’t think it was a trick of your imagination either as you saw his smile falter just as you did accelerate away.

The odd feeling came back to you as well, no longer able to see him just moments after as you continued down the street. You could only see his house getting smaller in your rearview mirror before it was gone entirely after the first turn.

If this really had been just some sort of temporary insanity, or one off emotions brought on by the stress of the last few days, it would be over now. He didn’t have to call you again. You didn’t have to call him. You both knew it.

But as you continued to drive back towards the interstate, you felt your attention only half heartedly on the road. Enough focus to be safe of course, but you weren’t thinking about New York yet.

You were still only thinking about Peter…Pietro. Or Quicksilver, he really did seem to enjoy all the names equally. As long as he was getting your attention, it didn’t seem like he cared either way.

Yes, as soon as you got to the motel you would call him. He didn’t have to worry that you were going to forget him. Why did he keep worrying about that? Why didn’t he believe you?

Because all everyone does is lie.

Your hands tightened on the steering wheel as that tell tale pain entered your mind with the foreign voice. So similar to past experiences that you knew the takeover immediately for what it was, yet it was still nothing like the Professor or Jean. Those two cared if they hurt you.

This one did not.

You fought back, but it didn’t matter. The force only grew stronger as your foot moved without your consent from the gas pedal to the brake, quickly slowing down the car.

By the time the car was stopped, you couldn’t even turn your head. But out of your peripheral vision you could see a red wisp of energy appear around the passenger door lock before it lifted with an audible sound.

Your heart pounded angrily, yet yourself helpless as the car door opened and your captor sat down, shaking her umbrella just a little before folding it back up to pull it inside and shut the door once more.

“Hello,” Wanda spoke evenly, impressive yet infuriating as she still had you locked down so easily. She looked over to you then, letting you also notice that slight red glow in her eyes as she spoke again. “I’m going to let you talk, but if you attack me, I’ll have no choice but to defend myself. Do you understand?”

You tried to relax, even in your anger. Obviously, she’d just broken one of Xavier’s cardinal rules. You did not abuse your powers with your peers. There was no consent here that you’d given. But you still agreed to her terms in your mind before you felt her finally release you again.

Immediately you glared over at her, but moved only your head as you saw her hands shift as if ready to counterattack should you do anything more.

“Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?” You grumbled at her abruptly. You’d been shy around her at the house, true. But this was a whole different game now, and you couldn’t hide your sudden defensiveness. “If you had something to say to me, why didn’t you do it at the house?”

“Because Peter would have gotten upset. And he’s already been through enough in the past few days,” She answered coldly.

Your eyebrows lowered a little at the mention of him, was he really her excuse? “Is that all this is really about? I mean, I got the idea you weren’t comfortable around me, but what are you afraid of?”

“I am not afraid of you, or anyone.” She retorted quickly, clearly some sort of nerve being struck.

God, Peter was right. She did remind you more of Magneto than was probably healthy. Which was just a natural thought to have in a situation like this. But you didn’t count on her still being able to read your mind so easily as she reacted immediately.

“That murderer is nothing like me!” Her voice rose threateningly in the small confines of the car.

You couldn’t help but wince too as her anger reverberated a little in your consciousness that she was evidently still connected to.

“Hey, watch it! You’re not near as careful as Jean…though your strength is honestly similar. Which, that’s pretty amazing if you didn’t know to have this at our age.” You weren’t trying to flatter her, it was just fact. Telepaths and psychics were not supposed to be near at this level until they were much older. But obviously no one had ever guided her into controlling it a little more, either that or she really just didn’t care if she damaged you in the process.

“I don’t care what you think. I just came to tell you to leave my brother alone.”

“Excuse me?” You stared at her, honestly not expecting that bluntness, even if you’d already assumed she didn’t care much for you being around him.

“I already told you, he’s been through enough. And I know him far better than you do. This won’t end well, so it’s better to stop now.”

There was silence for a few more moments, before you decided to be just as forthright as well. “Is this about Crystal? Because that’s stupid if so, because I-”

Yet she didn’t even let you finish. “You think you understand, but you don’t. You like my brother right now, I’m not arguing that. I see you think that it’s true. But this is how he always is.” She looked more exasperated the longer she spoke. “Like that watch you got him.”

You didn’t interrupt her then, trying to use more of your willpower to at least let her make her point before this got even worse. Though you still wanted to argue that there was nothing wrong with gifting him that watch, even if you now suspected Wanda had intentionally gotten their mother so worked up about it.

“He gets excited about new things. He’ll adore it and obsess over it, but ultimately he’ll lose it or break it.”

But you finally couldn’t help it after that clear parallel she was trying to make as you interjected. “Are we really still talking about a watch or are we talking about me?”

“It’s what’s going to happen. Just like with Crystal. Just like with everything. He needs to learn not to pour all his needs into every shiny new bauble that comes along.”

“You really don’t care how you talk to people do you?” You asked, honestly your bit of anger subsiding the more ridiculous you realized this all was. “Wanda, I don’t think I’m anything great. Sure, I know this could all be something that ends up not working out. I mean, that’s life. I’m stressed about it too! I don’t have much experience in any of this. But if everyone assumed the worst, how would anyone ever find the relationships that do end up lasting?” When was it ever more than a calculated risk or a gamble in the beginning?

She didn’t seem at all impressed at your counterpoint of course, but you kept on. “But what about him having new friends either? I don’t know how much you really saw when you were fully in my head, but I think he liked just getting to be around other young mutants too. Xavier is awesome about bringing out the best in us. What makes you think he couldn’t do that for your brother too?”

“The first time he met Xavier, Peter ended up almost getting shot at the Pentagon and breaking out a mutant who later killed how many people recently? And this time he ended up with a broken leg when he just as easily could have come home in a body bag.”

You didn’t miss how she refused to mention her own father’s name. But you had enough sense of self preservation to not delve further into that possible minefield even as you disagreed. “We’re mutants, Wanda. There’s always going to be trouble for us. But we are safer together. Yes, bad things have happened. But things would have been even worse if we didn’t act.”

“That man has you brainwashed, and you think he should do the same to my brother.”

Yes, you’d really only met Magneto in person a single time now, but the similarities were now undeniable.

“I am not like him!” She spat, making you realize quickly that she was yet again still listening to your thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly. “But I still think it should be Peter’s choice, all of it. The school, potentially his involvement in this future team Xavier may start again, and whether or not he wants to see me anymore. You’re in my head, so you should know I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Intention doesn’t matter. Crystal really liked him too you know. Until she realized it wasn’t going to work and there was no easy way to break up with him. You think you know what he went through with that, but you don’t.”

You took a breath. “You’re right, I’m sure I don’t really know. But wasn’t that years ago? Isn’t he allowed to grow, to learn? I don’t think he’s as fragile as you’re making him out to be.”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue with you all morning,” She responded, looking away again. “But you can’t say I didn’t give you a warning. I want him to be okay. That’s all I want.”

“Nobody can promise anyone that can they?” You questioned. “But I can say he deserves friends. Maybe I’m not good enough for him, I don’t know. But would you still hate me just for trying to be a friend to him?”

“You’re assuming too much, I don’t care about you enough to hate you. This isn’t personal. But it’s important to me.”

Wow, so what would she be doing if she actually hated you? As if a psychic carjacking wasn’t bad enough. “It’s going to be up to him, Wanda. I don’t know what else I can tell you. He’s his own person, even if he is your twin.”

“You were warned.” She answered back, cold as anything again before she suddenly opened the door again and opened her umbrella. She didn’t even look back at you either, maybe trying to reinforce that you were not even worth that before the door slammed shut and she was gone.

————————————

You didn’t know how long you sat there afterwards. As the anger and surprise continued to fade, you did feel more shaken. By the time you finally drove away, you were upset. There was a disbelief, wondering if you really had deserved all that. Or if it was your fault because you hadn’t said or done the right things when you’d had the chance with her.

She was frightening, but was she fully wrong?

After everything you’d already been through in the past few days, maybe this was finally the emotional attack that made it all hit home. And here you were alone for hours to come. No Jean, or Jubilee, or any of them to cheer you up and ground you again.

The only thing you could really do as you drove these long stretches of interstate in the rain was to turn the radio back on. The dial was still on the last station Peter had set it to.

You took a breath, blinking your stinging eyes and reminding yourself that you were stronger than this. You couldn’t let Wanda’s fears get to you. You couldn’t let her change you as you kept turning the volume up over the sounds of the rain.

You could imagine Peter enjoying the song that came on next, himself likely laughing and joking with you if he’d still been here beside you.

It was going to be okay. Your friends were waiting for you in New York.

Everything was going to be okay.

——————————

(To be continued!)

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x oc #quicksilver #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x oc #xmen fanfiction #xmen fic #wanda maximoff #maximoff twins

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funtimebunnyblog · 4 years

Note

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

�� "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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cowboymirio · 4 years

Text

They Want To Get A Pet - Headcanons

Summary: Your S/O wants a pet and adorable antics ensue~

Characters: Hizashi Yamada, Taishiro Toyomitsu, Aizawa Shouta, Eijiro Kirishima, Tenya Iida, Hanta Sero, Takami Keigo

Contains: Gender neutral reader, lotsa fluff, Reader has arachnophobia in Sero’s part! Crackheadery in Aizawa’s part

Hizashi Yamada - Cockatoo

📣 You guys totally didn’t plan on getting a cockatoo, or any pet for that matter. Y’all just moved into your new place for christ’s sake!

📣 But after a visit to a lil exotic pet store downtown, your plans changed. And now you’re stuck with a bird with the intelligence of a toddler

📣 According to Yama, the bird just ‘called to him’ and by that, he means the bird literally screamed at him

📣 They’ve got the most bougie cage ever like MTV cribs hit them up.

📣But he doesn’t spend too much time in there as you guys let him roam around the house all day until it’s time for bed or if you leave for a while

📣 If they’re not attached to Yama’s shoulder, you often find them waddling around the house, picking things up off of the floor and throwing them, and squawking at you when they want attention

📣 Sounds like someone else you know huh…

📣 Yama and the bird dance together so much omg. They do the lil head bobs together, he’ll blast some music for them and they go to town he even chirps along to the lyrics omg-

📣 He doesn’t even have to teach them words, they just pick them up on their own… and then never stop saying them… ever

📣 ‘YEAHHHHH’ then from the other side of your home you hear another ‘YEAAHHHHH’

📣 Make it stop

📣 You taught them cuss words for the shits and giggles though

📣 Yama finds it funny too though because he’s got that 8-year-old sense of humor… you all do to be honest

📣 But when the bird chooses to sit on your shoulder you bet your ass Yamada’s gonna fawn over the two of you for the next hour :’)

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Pyrenean Mastiff

🍢 Really wants a pet

🍢 But also really scared of crushing them so…

🍢 You guys settle for a big ‘ol Pyrenean mastiff!

🍢 And when I say they’re big they are big like… I mean knock you over if you’re not careful big

🍢 They’re literally perfect for each other

🍢 They’re both massive units, insanely adorable, and they for sure share the same appetite

🍢 Speaking of food, he makes sure he’s feeding them the best of the best foods even if that means y’all are making it yourselves

🍢 Not as afraid to roughhouse with them as he thought he’d be

🍢 Lots of fetching, frisbee throwing, ‘wrestling’ even?? They’re so rowdy and for what? My heart, that’s what <3

🍢 The dog definitely sleeps on top of him I don’t make the rules

🍢 Mf just hops on up, curls up and they’re ready to go like--- Is that- is that not y’know,,, HEAVY??

🍢 I mean,,, you sleep on top of him too so I honestly don’t think Tai cares too much

Aizawa Shota - Cat

💤 You guys already know…

💤 If he were to get any kind of pet it’d be a cat.

💤 They’re chill, independent, and sometimes want attention. Just how he likes it.

💤 Well… that’s how he thought that things should be but-

💤 BOY was he wrong

💤 After living together for quite a while, stalking animal shelter websites for the perfect cat, and finding the right one, you bring them home!

💤 When you met them at the shelter, they were a sweet lil baby with an aloof attitude that you both fell in love with

💤 But when you brought them home… They became an absolute crackhead.

💤 Forget having ANYTHING on the tables or countertops. It’s on the floor now thanks to them. Fuck your water glass, fuck those papers you were helping Aizawa grade, they’re gone! Shredded! Positively destroyed :)

💤 Forget having free hands, they’re literally attached to his side and won’t stop rubbing against his hands while he’s grading papers and such

💤 If you’re not watching his little dude/ette will try and eat food WHILE YOU’RE COOKING oh my fuckingf god

💤 Heaven forbid this dude tries to leave the room. They’ll ‘cry’ until he comes back.

💤 ‘Go to your other parent, they’ll give you attention.’ ‘mEEEOWWW’ ‘Oh my god fine come here.’

💤 Honestly though he really appreciates when they’re down to sleep. Their purrs and their cuddles are very appreciated

💤 And literally just imagine seeing them curled up on his chest while they sleep on the couch ;; im so somft

Eijiro Kirishima - Bearded Dragon

🏮 This man wants to get THE manliest pet of all,,, a bearded dragon

🏮 He probably saw one on a movie or something and immediately came to you like

🏮 ‘Okay but we neeeeed one just look at their lil beards!! And their tongues!!!’

🏮 You tell him to put it off for a bit, do some research, and see if he still wants one later

🏮 Homeboy is DEDICATED so he puts in the time and ofc he still wants one after the fact

🏮 After a good amount of time, he comes back with a books worth of reasons as to why you guys should get one and you’re honestly shocked

🏮 You just can’t say no to those eyes </33 so you oblige and go out and get one from an owner who’s surrendering it (Because we don’t support chain pet stores in this household)

🏮 You guys can’t pick a name for them so for the longest time they’re just called ‘the lizard’ or ‘little fella’ or whatever else you guys come up with

🏮 Anyways- he’s infatuated with them it’s so funny. He spends all of his freetime watching them get used to their new habitat like,,,, all of it. It’s 1am and he’s just watching it hang out and you’re like ‘Kiri if you love it so much then why don’t you sleep with it’ (not in that way ya nasty)

🏮 HE TAKES IT SERIOUSLY

🏮 Next thing you know he hops out of bed, brings them back and puts them between your pillows.

🏮 Lil homie’s just vibin there.

🏮 You’re done tbh but if Kiri’s happy then you’re happy <33

🏮 Absolutely lets it sit on his shoulders when he’s walking around the house

🏮 He has a leash for them and he takes them out during the warmer months

🏮 Dedicates a good portion of his day to clean out their habitat when need be

🏮 Their relationship is just so cute you can’t help but melt every time you see them together

Tenya Iida - Tropical Fish

🌟 After a particularly rough finals season, you figure that Iida needs to have some sort of hobby that can help him chill out, but also has some sort of brainwork in there because that’s your boyfriend for ya

🌟 You suggest getting some fish!

🌟 He rly said ‘I’ll think about it’ then proceeded to do a shit ton of research on it because he literally does that every time you express interest in something. King behavior!!

🌟 You guys settle on getting a few tropical fish and a super nice fish tank for ‘em

🌟 He lets you name all of them and of course you have to name one ‘Iida junior’ like how could you not-

🌟 But seriously though he finds it so endearing and sweet ;;

🌟 You can’t tell me he doesn’t buy all of the nicest shit he can for their tank too.

🌟 Fresh aquatic plants, huge rocks for them to swim through, a nice ass heater, the WORKS

🌟 He’s gotta treat yall’s babies right like what did you expect

🌟 Constantly checking their water to see if it’s alright for them

🌟 He’s usually the one to feed them so whenever he comes up to the tank, they all crowd up by the top like doggies when their owner comes home omg

🌟 He finds the noises from the tank to be really good background noise when he’s reading or studying

🌟 Iida’s honestly glad that you suggested to get fish ‘cause taking care of them is such a relaxing hobby and lord knows he needs some of those

Hanta Sero - Rose Haired Tarantula

🧵 So he wants a Rose Hair Tarantula...

🧵 ‘Absolutely not’ - You, 2021 (sorry if you actually like spiders lol, if a singular person wants hcs where y’all both like spiders please @ me)

🧵 Lots and lots of begging and promises

🧵 ‘You won’t even have to clean the cage, I’ll do it!!’ ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ ‘c’mooon pretty please???’

🧵 He had to bust out the puppy eyes for you to say yes

🧵 And with that, you’re now the proud parents of a demon rose hair tarantula!

🧵 ‘We can keep them in the spare room’ your ass. He lets it climb all over him while he’s walking around the house!!

🧵 Not you actively avoiding him when you see them coming down towards you

🧵 ‘But I wanna kiss!!’ ‘Kiss your tarantula smh’

🧵 After he realizes he’s not gonna get any with his lil buddy (yes, that’s what he calls them) he tries his best to help you familiarize with em

🧵 I’m sorry but he’s trying so hard not to laugh as you freak out when they crawl up your arm

🧵 He takes things more seriously after that though. He’ll give you lil words of encouragement, back pats and such

🧵 He’s so happy that you become… tolerable after a while of you guys just hangin’ out that you can’t help but feel proud too.

🧵 You still can’t stand spiders though.

Keigo Tamaki - Bunnies

🐤 Just like Aizawa, he wants something that’s quiet and can be independent since his schedule is a bit busy but he still wants to have a lil buddy to love on

🐤 You’re actually the one to bring up the idea to get a bunny, it’s part of a long list of ideas you had come up with, but for whatever reason, the bunny idea just stuck with him

🐤 You two hop (im a comedic genius hi <33) on over to the nearest rescue you can find, and browse through the enclosures looking for the perfect bunny for you guys

🐤 Ok so like- here’s the thing,,,

🐤 You totally didn’t plan on getting two bunnies… But you guys found a pair that were literally inseparable and y’all had to have them

🐤 He’s already calling them ‘Our children’ straight off the bat like- y’all JUST got home and he’s already giving you baby fever UGH

🐤 He bunny-proofs the FUCK out of the house so they can roam freely ‘cause he didn’t just get these babies to stick them in a cage smh

🐤 Will lay on the floor and just watch them romp around cus he finds it relaxing and funny

🐤 Also please get on the floor and watch them with him. Prime cuddling hours

🐤 They burrow under his wings… I repeat- THEY BURROW UNDER HIS WINGS

🐤 They WILL flop together don’t @ me

🐤 They (and by they I mean all three of them) flop on you when they want attention can I jst--- *cries*

🐤 Have fun trying to get up, this is your life now.

🐤 But are you really complaining? You shouldn’t be smh

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