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uglypastels · 9 months

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okok I've had this idea brewing in my filthy mind for a few days so imagine sanji discovering camgirl! Strawhat reader and becomes kinda obsessed?? Maybe one day she wears something of his(maybe a ring or his shirt) live and he goes absolutely feral and has his way with her??😵😵💫

I took out the camgirl aspect because I just wasn't sure how to incorporate it into the universe?? (I'm still new to it, so trying to figure out the dos and don'ts haha.) but I hope it's still good.

masterlist | inbox - requests open

reminder that reblogs and comments are the best way to support writers on Tumblr

warning: 18+ content. MDNI. simp sanji. masturbation. suggestive language and actions. light biting.

Laundry Day.

'Can someone remind me again whose brilliant idea it was to fight the giant squid?' You looked down at yourself, stiff as a board, as you felt every inch of your body to be sticky with black ink.

When you looked up again, the rest of the crew had all found a sudden interest in the most mundane parts of the ship, not daring to meet your deadly glare.

'Thought so,' you mumbled. 'I'm gonna go change.' Awkwardly, you made your way downstairs to the bathroom to try and wash off the black goo the sea monster had spewed onto you. You scrubbed for what felt like an hour, with the stains just never seeming to seize. The water poured down your body, slowly turning from a black abyss into a drabby grey until it finally recovered to its natural clear state, and the smell of fish was exchanged for your hair conditioner and body scrub.

stupid. fucking. squid. You kicked around your thoughts as you got out of the shower, nearly falling over in the process.

Too tired to cross the ship to your room, you instead walked to the small laundry cabin that was next to the bathroom and picked up the first pair of shorts you found and a button-up shirt to throw on.

You had thought it was one of yours, always being fond of having some larger piece of attire to throw over a short sleeve, but you soon realised your mistake when you entered the kitchen.

Sanji was in the middle of setting some water to boil, glancing up at you from his work with a soft smile. That smile then quickly froze in what you could only describe as a shock.

'I know I look like a mess,' you sighed, reaching over to the cupboard where the crew kept their hardest liquor. The day just called for a shot. Or three.

'Not the words I would use.' Sanji said, the clicking of the gas stove intercepting him, 'Is that- is that my shirt?'

You glanced down, noticing the blue striped pattern on the material and the actual tailoring of the shirt as opposed to the ones you were used to wearing.

You cursed under your breath. 'Sorry. I'll go change.' You began unrolling the sleeves, already seeing how they started to crease.

'No,' Sanji coughed out. 'It's fine. Honestly.'

'You sure?' You looked up at him apprehensively, but he just shrugged and continued on cooking.

You poured yourself a drink and made yourself comfortable opposite Sanji, enjoying the show that was his meal prep.

'Where's everyone else?' you asked as he began chopping up vegetables.

'Uhm, probably sleeping off the squid,' he chuckled, focused on the ingredients. As he kept going, you realised his answers kept getting shorter and shorter with each question. What usually would be full of quips and flirtatious remarks was cut down, blunt, like the edge of a dull knife.

And at first you had brushed it aside as him concentrating on his craft, but the longer he cooked, the more noticeable it was how he avoided your gaze. Even when talking, he didn't dare look up.

'Are you really ok with me wearing this?' You asked eventually when he was done and washing his hands in the sink.

'Of course, darlin',' he wiped his hands on a towel. He was about to turn around, but you saw the moment as your chance and swiftly slithered by his side. He stumbled back slightly in surprise.

'So why have you been ignoring me for the past hour?'

'I haven't,' he slipped by you elegantly and got to packing up the prepared food into storage boxes.

'But you have-- you didn't even look at me until now.'

'Sorry, sweetheart. I was working.' Usually, his saying something like that would make you think things were back to normal, but he seemed nervous, and before you could say anything else, he excused himself to his cabin.

Confused and a bit flustered at the sudden departure, you stood in the kitchen for a moment. You had planned on going upstairs, to get some fresh air, when Luffy stormed into the room.

'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'glad to see you're back to your ink-free self.'

'Yeah, thanks, Luf.' You took another shot quickly and watched as the captain raided all the cupboards. 'Watcha looking for there?'

'The tangerine cookies that Sanji made yesterday. There should still be some here.' He stretched his arm out to pat around the back of the highest drawer.

'You sure you didn't eat them yet?'

'Nooo,' Luffy looked at you sternly. 'Because I put them there specifically so I wouldn't eat them earlier.'

'Right,' you nodded. 'Well, Sanji had been busy around here, prepping lunch for tomorrow; maybe he moved some things around,' you suggested. 'You could go and ask him.'

'Aaah, I could,' Luffy wavered, 'but I was hoping to do this without Sanji's help.'

'Did he ban you from the kitchen again?' After the last incident of Lufft stuffing himself full of snacks right before dinner, the cook had given him strict orders not to eat an hour before meals. Looking at the clock, you could see it was closing in on dinner time.

Luffy scoffed, which only confirmed your assumptions. With a sigh, you got up. 'Fine, I'll ask him. But he might be asleep, you know.'

'Thanks. You're the best.' Luffy said, arm the length of the room as he opened cupboard after cupboard. You just rolled your eyes and made your way to Sanji's cabin.

'Hey, Sanji,' you knocked softly, unsure if he had maybe decided to take a nap. With no response from the other side of the door, you tried again. You thought to just let it go and leave him be, but then you heard the clashing of the pans in the kitchen, followed by a Luffy 'I'm ok!' and knew that you needed an answer for your captain. These were desperate times.

'Hey, Sanji,' you opened the door. The only thing you had really seen was the shape of his body splayed out on the bed, and it was more of an instinct or a gut reaction that told you that you should not look any further. So, quickly apologising, you shut the door again as Sanji cursed out in shock at the door opening.

'Sorry!' You shouted through the door, simultaneously trying to comprehend the blurs of your vision and trying to forget anything you might have seen. He wasn't... no, that wasn't... no.

There was some stumbling coming from his room, followed by a few more curse words. You didn't know why you were still standing beside his door, but he certainly didn't expect you to have stayed there, and so, when he entered the corridor, your bodies practically collided.

'I didn't see anything!' You blurted out before Sanji could say anything. Both your faces were wide in horror. 'I swear- I just,' you made the mistake of taking his appearance in. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, belt unbuckled and hanging at his sides. Oh god. 'I just... I was wondering where the tangerine cookies were. The ones you made yesterday.'

He was still hard. Most of it was hidden by the layers of clothing, but there was no denying it. You did your best to keep your eyes on his face as he listened to you blurt out words like a maniac, but it sure was difficult as all the puzzle pieces came together.

'They should be in the left cabinet, bottom shelf. Behind the baking ingredients. I hid them so Luffy wouldn't eat them before dinner.'

'Good thinking,' you laughed, probably a bit too loud for the situation, but the nerves were getting worse by the second. 'Well, bye then.' And with that, you ran off to the kitchen, leaving Sanji in all his unspeakable glory behind.

In the kitchen, you were met with Luffy picking up the pans he had dropped and Nami looking at him with what could only be described as disappointment. Without acknowledging them, you walked over to the left cabinet, opened the bottom half of it and searched the bottom shelf for the box of leftover cookies, slamming them onto the counter. Luffy immediately lunged forward to them, oblivious to your shocked state, but the navigator was a bit more perceptive.

'What happened to you?' she asked, declining the offer of a cookie from the captain, who already had two in his mouth.

'Nothing,' you shook your head.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'I didn't! I didn't see anything!' Nope, nothing at all. You definitely did not see that. Or how big it was... or how his hand looked wrapped around it... or his face when he- NO.

'Hey, is that Sanji's shirt?' Now, Luffy decided to be observant. You looked down at your shirt as if you had only now noticed what you were wearing.

'Oh, I guess it is.'

'He must be having a field day with that,' Nami snickered, to which you looked at her confused. She, in turn, rolled her eyes 'Like you haven't seen the way he looks at you on a regular day.'

'I- no?' you blinked, trying to grapple with what she was talking about.

Nami just shrugged before grabbing the last cookie from Luffy's hand and walking out of the room. If you thought he would be aware of anything that you had just talked about, you would have asked the captain if he knew what Nami meant by her comments but instead just contemplated on it all by yourself.

Against all your survival instincts, you walked back in the direction of Sanji's door and knocked again. This time loud and clear. There was shuffling coming from the other side, and a second later, the door opened to reveal Sanji. His lips were pulled in a tight line of a smile as he looked down at you.

'Hey, can I come in?' you asked softly.

'What?' Sanji asked before the initial question properly connected in his mind. 'Uhh, I don't think that's a great idea.'

'Sanj, we should talk about what happened earlier.'

'Do we, though?' His voice raised in pitch nervously, but you just glared up at him, unimpressed.

'Sanji, please just let me come inisde.' You pushed out any thought that just burst through your mind that did not have to do with the current situation, but it was hard to see the images of what you saw in his room before were still very much playing over and over in your head.

In the end, Sanji gave in and opened the door for you. As you walked in, he stayed behind you, hand running nervously through his hair, as he spoke: 'Listen, I'm really sorry about... everything that happened today, really.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for.' You turned to face him. 'I'm the one that stole your shirt and stormed into your room unannounced.' It was his room. He had the right to do whatever he pleased in it.

Sanji laughed awkwardly, looking away to the far side of the room, but even then, you caught how his eyes glanced and slightly lingered over your body. The blue-striped shirt still hanging over it.

You, in the meantime, fought the urge to look at his body, combined with the memory of what you had caught him doing.

Maybe it was the few shots you had taken earlier to forget about the giant squid attack that instead did nothing you had hoped for but only made you bolder as you asked: 'were you thinking about me?'

'What?'

'You know, earlier. When I walked in. Were you... thinking of me?'

'Shit, don't make me say it.' He combed his fingers through his hair. You walked over to him, closing the gap between you lightly.

'Why not?'

'Because I don't want to make things weird between us.' His jaw clenched as you came towards him, and you couldn't help but laugh at what he had to say.

'Oh, it's definitely too late for that now. Things are already weird.'

'Super weird, aren't they?' he asked softly, strangely intensely.

And so, when you responded, your agreeing words were only as hushed as he had been, too focused on each other's proximity. The two of you stood there, frozen between actions, taking each other's bodies in at the new lack of distance until Sanji took the final step over the edge, kissing you with his hands on cupping your cheeks.

You stumbled back at the force, steadying yourself when you caught onto the shirt he was wearing. One of his hands moved down to your waist, guiding you to his bed until the back of your knees hit the wood, and you lightly fell back.

Sanji placed himself over you, and as his weight pressed over you, you could feel his hard-on through his trousers. A curse fell from his lips when you reached for it and your fingertips moved over the material.

'You've been drivin' me insane the whole day, walkin' around in that shirt.' He said as he began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

'Figured,' you couldn't but be a bit smug about it, which he did not seem to appreciate given the pinch of his teeth you felt on your sensitive skin.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you, trying to get some, friction out of the movement as he pressed himself against you.

'Cocky are we?' He smiled into his kisses, and at this point, all you could do was nod in agreement.

Sanji kept himself up over you with one hand as he used the other to unzip your shorts. One-handed and without a clear view, taking them off turned out to be a bit more of a challenge, far more awkward than expected when you tried to shuffle out of them, but his touch on your skin made up for it by tenfold.

You were about to make a start on unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing when Sanji stopped you. 'No, keep it on.' and kissed you before you could make any other snarky remark on his behalf. But when he pulled away again, though slightly dazed by the passion, you still managed to comment.

'If this is the treatment I receive for stealing your clothes, I might just do it more often.'

To this, Sanji groaned through his teeth. 'You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart, I swear.

#sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji smut #sanji fluff #sanji fic #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #fluff #fic #request

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ms0milk · 2 years

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hashira relationship hcs !

| hashira x gn!reader (sfw)

a/n: + Muichiro is a literal child, so no i’m not diving into that one– thanks for the reqs y’all!

Tengen

he’ll charm parents

he’ll charm siblings

he’ll charm pets

Tengen’s the kind of man that makes your great grandma horny you feel me

i just know being in a relationship with this gentleman is out of the mfing galaxy

Tengen wants to comb your hair slowly in the shower no matter hOW LONG it takes

he wants to sit and talk with you for hours over delicious food

he wants to make you laugh so hard you cry

Tengen is an experience

like he’s the concierge at five star luxury hotel but the hotel is just his fucking body

If anyone was going to be that irritating mfer who always wants to wear matching outfits it’s this guy

and when he’s finished with you, you’re always just slightly too dressed up for the outing

you two are gonna be the most fuckable people at the grocery store and that’s an Uzui guarantee

and don’t get me started on your girlfriends

the Uzuis are the gift that keeps on giving

Tengen is the boyfriend that just never stops taking your picture

or bragging to anyone who’ll listen

his teammates

his boss

fucking demons– i mean anyone with ears

“They’re just, just– you know?”

“Yes, Tengen we all know.”

“Like,, picture a spring morning– probably like 76° because that’s the perfect kind of day– and there’s laughter in the dis–”

“WE KNOW TENGEN”

adoration doesn’t take time off sorry

Sanemi

one single solitary word

Clingy.

Sanemi Shinazugawa is too embarrassed to admit you’re the first person that he’s truly, fully in love with

he’s too cool for puppy love!

you don’t push him to be physical, you don’t overstep his boundaries

aagbpebepbk do you want him to be obsessed with you?? you’d better stop being so goddamn respectful of his trauma

and still he somehow shows up in the corner of every room you’re ever in

“Sanemi, do you um, need something?”

“Huh? I’m concentrating, leave me be.”

Sure he’s concentrating, but he’s also kneeling in the doorway of the living room pretending to read a book on the floor

“Um..Nemi, I can weed the garden on my own.”

He’s squatting next to you, handing you the tools he thinks you’ll need before you can reach for them

“You’re too slow, this is faster.”

Right, of course.

“Are you sure you don’t need to talk about something?”

Your bathroom isn’t even big enough for two people to brush their teeth at the sink side by side like this

“You said my morning breath was smelly, make up your mind– y’not want me to fix it?”

This..is simply not what you meant

Sanemi also prides himself in his masculinity!

He’s carrying groceries

He’s taking out the trash

Massaging that spot on your back that’s always tight for some reason

He’s tending to the yard

Defending you from the sputtering cooking oil at dinner time!

but not because he’s obsessed with you or anything oh god no

Rengoku

my knees fold backwards from how weak he makes me

Rengoku writes you love letters

pride & prejudice levels of longing

letters you gotta take breaks from while reading or you’ll just implode

when you’re both too busy with work to see each other as often as you’d like, he knows this is the fastest way to feel close to you again

y/n wrote these thoughts with their own hands

he could stare at the page and run his fingers over the lettering without reading a single word, just lost in imagining what the world around you looked like while you were writing this to him

Rengoku is also an excellent houseguest

no clumsily broken dishes, not a pillow out of place, not even a single heavy footstep

and oh my lord

does he do chores like a champ

he knows you have a busy work day ahead of you?

that laundry’s going to be washed, folded, and dried before you get home

you’re not feeling well?

the bathroom is clean, the kitchen is stocked, there’s fresh cut flowers in your bedroom

you’re recovering from a mission?

househusband activate

he’s strapping on his haori and BLASTING the house into perfect working order

the only downside is that this man cannot cook to save his life

it’s Rengoku’s dream to take you home with him and introduce you to his brother

to stop you from assaulting his father

to visit his mother’s grave together

he just KNOWS you’re what he’s always been looking for

and that anyone who loves him, will love you even more

Obanai

the definition of fangirl behavior

this is the man that’s gonna take a knee to tie your shoe in public

cuz he’s got that phat ooey gooey crush on you

Iguro’s a pretty quiet fella when there aren’t any assholes to antagonize

so this sweetheart just lives to provide for you

he likes to know you’re feeling full because you ate his cooking

he likes to see you wear the clothes he bought you while away on missions

(he never comes back from a mission empty handed, oh my god can you imagine)

similarly he likes to know you’re sound asleep because he’s the one who tired you out

even though he’s not the most flamboyant, everyone around you is just about blinded by how bright his eyes shine for you

they’re a fucking traffic hazard

they’re sending ships to their doom on the coastline in a storm

from your perspective he’s just thoughtful and loyal

like you fit together effortlessly

but to everyone looking from the outside in

they can clearly see Obanai frantically pulling all the parts of his plan together so your day goes without a hitch

i’m talking,, filling potholes in town with his own hands so you never even have to avoid a puddle

goat bf behavior

Kaburamaru is even more clingy, and likes to wind across your shoulders as you work, or snuggle in your long sleeves on rainy days

the best part of Obanai’s day is falling asleep with you knowing he spent yet another day worshiping the ground you walk on

he likes to cuddle with either one of your heads on the other’s chest because no matter which position he’s in, he gets to fall asleep listening to the sound of your hearts beating together

Mitsuri

you’re not leaving her house without lip balm, sunscreen, and a full belly

the queen of absolute pampering

Mitsuri in a relationship is simply a top tier emotional fluffer

“baby try a bite of this and tell me what it needs”

“Y/n honey hold still, you’ve got leaves in your hair”

“come to me baby, i’ll zip that up for you”

Mitsuri LOVES spending time in the garden with her apiary

and her little beekeeping hat is too goddamn cute for you not to join her

she wants to share the things that make her happy with you more than anything!

well, not more than she wants to spend hours staring at you longingly from across the dinner table

you’re shopping at markets together

learning to cook new things together

going on trips to the beach, city, and countryside together

she’s big on casual PDA

wants to walk hand in hand, or at least pinky in pinky

makes sure her feet are at least touching yours under the table when you’re out to eat

loves LOVES when you ask her to wash your back in the shower

she’s so fucking sappy she wants to fall alseep with your foreheads pressed together, hand in hand

i’m trembling as i write this oh my god she’s perfect

basically just a life of luxury and companionship

and learning the secret to how she smells so goddamn good

Shinobu

she knows one of your favorite parts about her is her voice

so she loves reading out loud to you when you both have some down time

actually, one of her favorite things to do with you is nothing at all!

chatting a bit here and there, but generally doing your own separate things together

= Shinobu’s happy place

her brain is always going a million miles a minute, so the fact that you’re more than happy to take a nap in her lab while she works is seriously soothing

it’s an insecurity of hers don’t tell anyone that her lifestyle isn’t compatible with having a partner or a family

so the fact that you’re happy to work around her chaotic schedule is more comforting to her than you can know

Shinobu isn’t big on PDA but she capital-L Loves showing you off like her trophy

to people working the stands in the market

at pillar meetings

to her patients in the infirmary

if it wasn’t so dangerous she’d take you on missions just to brag about your beauty in every village across the country

she’s also stern

and so hard on herself

so don’t forget to call her something silly a few times a day

“hey hey now Crabapple, we can’t beat the patients just because they’re irritating”

“ahoy Sunshine! look at the butterflies in the garden today!”

you’re a nice balancing force in her life

you make her feel vulnerable and brave

oh, and don’t forget to help her channel her simmering rage!

take her outside by the hand with a soft smile, hand her a dish, and just smash that shit!

“c’mon Ko! you’ve been tense all day, break something with me!”

she’ll follow you to the ends of the earth

Giyuu

touch starved sonofabitch

that and an unwavering loyalty is what he’s bringing to the table

literally just run your fingers through his hair when you wake up and he’ll be fully recharged for the next 12 hours

in all seriousness, Giyuu has always found that the people he loves the most are taken from him

so before he can even admit how much he cares for you

before he even really realizes it

you need to be patient with this poor man

the actions that mean the most to him aren’t monetary or service-based

just show up

if you say you’re going to do something, do it

you say you’re always going to be there for him?

you better prove that shit baby

it’s the very second you burst through the doors of the butterfly mansion infirmary that it fully hits him

“Tomioka! Oh my god–”

“You came.”

“I–! I– what? Of course I came! You’re injured!”

“How did you know?”

“You weren’t at your house when I went over to check! Tomioka I can’t– you said you would be careful!”

sure you’re screaming at him and throwing the nurses into a tailspin with demands of ‘more pillows’ and ‘i need a chair goddammit’

but you’re so worried about him all he can do is smile

i think the best way to love Giyuu is just so overtly is feels silly

love him loudly

and he’ll just fall in love with you right back

he’ll always invite you to join him even if it seems ridiculous

“um, no thanks. I don’t really want to go to the bathroom with you baby.”

“okay, just checking.”

cutie

“i’m going to get a glass of water, do you want to come?”

“could you just…bring me one back?”

he’s just a perfect scrungly boy who’s new to the whole, being-loved-out-loud thing

Gyomei

doesn’t ever and i mean EVER open up to people

even when you start dating

he’s the toughest goddamned nut

he’s caring sure

i mean

is there even a word for the way he cares for you?

he’ll meet you at your work to walk you home everyday

he’ll tuck you in if you fall asleep hanging out and then sleep on the bare floor beside your bed so you don’t get uncomfortable

he’ll peel those little white strings off your clementines– i mean truly he does want to take care of you

and you love the attention don’t get me wrong

but sometimes you want him to just let loose a bit!

joke around with you

so you remind him sternly one morning that you’re “not a child!” when he offers to help you get dressed

“Of course you’re not.”

“No Himejima, listen to me!”

what else would he be doing

“You don’t have to protect my feelings, I’m your equal.”

it’s a small little comment, but it’s effective

right

you’re not like the people from his past

you’re not going to trick him

you’re not going to use him

if you were, you would’ve done it already!

it takes a few weeks but he starts to smile more

starts asking for help

he even laughed when you splashed him in the bath, so hard it startled you!

he fluctuates, but overall his adventurous partner is helping him to open up slowly but surely

#sfw #oh shit i'm really banging these out #pomspeedrun #gn!reader #tengen x reader #sanemi x reader #rengoku x reader #obanai x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #gyomei x reader #kny #kny hcs #kny x reader

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escapetheshark · 1 year

Text

Rotted Bones (Aki x Himeno angst)

Hi I wrote a one-shot pls read k thx; PG-13 for very light non-descriptive smut

The silence that filled his apartment would have been welcoming under any other circumstance but, at that particular moment, it strangled him and weighed heavy on his chest. The light penetrating the half-closed window was dim and cold, uninviting even. He rubbed at his right eye, shutting it tightly as if trying to get rid of a long-lost eyelash. Unsurprisingly, the sky was engulfed in dark clouds, not letting the sun shine through, and a cold breeze chilled his bones. Still, he sat in his foldable chair and reached for the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his black joggers.

"This is the last one," he told himself as he lit up the cigarette, the last one in the pack. How long would it take for it to stop hurting, he wondered as he inhaled the bone-rotting chemicals. The Curse's words echoed in his mind, "two years," It had said. It was definitely too late to quit smoking, his bones wouldn't even have time to rot.

With a sigh, the young man opened up the top drawer of his dresser, where neatly folded underwear and socks were placed, and was surprised to find a piece of clothing that definitely did not belong to him, also neatly folded - a pink bra. He examined it, thinking that it had to belong to Power, his only female roommate. But how would Power's bra end up h- his hand trembled when a sudden jolt of memory attacked him.

"I'm not sleeping on your sofa!"

"Ugh fine, but at least get changed, your clothes reek!"

"Alright, I'll changeeee"

Fumbling with her undershirt, she managed to remove it and toss it on the floor, followed by her bra, which landed on the opposite side of the room. He was caught off-guard, genuinely too stunned to speak, his gaze glued to her chest and he couldn't avert it even if he tried. She was giggling furiously, teasing the man about how red his face had become.

"Aki-kun, have you never seen booooobs before?"

"H-himeno...!"

"I don't t-think I'v everr seen uo sso esspressiveee, hick!"

He put down the garment, holding back the tears that threatened to fall, and quickly grabbed a pair of socks and underpants, and quickly shut the drawer before rushing to the bathroom. Aki removed his earrings and carefully placed them on the sink, then removed all his clothes and looked at his own reflection for a minute, as if looking for his soul on the other side of the mirror. The steam rising from the bathtub somehow cleared his mind a little and he jumped in the bath, closing his eyes and enjoying the silence for once.

It was nice, the gentle scent of pomegranate from the body wash she had left behind. She would always get different scents, in hopes of finding one that could become her signature, "whenever you smell this, you know Himeno is coming!", she would say. I guess it worked. She stayed over so many times he could probably fill a large box with random stuff she kept leaving behind. Among his laundry, he found a couple of her work button-up shirts, a pair of Hello Kitty socks, and her baby-blue pajama top with clouds on it. There was the body wash, a dried-out mascara, her coconut lip balm...

"Your lips are dry, Aki-kun."

"It's because I smoke too much," he spat. "Dries out all of my skin."

"You know, there's moisturiser out there," she chuckled. "They're not that expensive."

"I guess..."

Silence engulfed them once more after that little interaction. They were too tired to engage in conversation after everything they'd been through, and Aki was still recovering from his injury, so talking was hard. Quietly, she reached for her pocket and grabbed a tiny tube of lip balm, applying it to her own lips before grabbing Aki by his chin and applying it to his chapped lips.

"Thanks, I guess..."

Maybe he should send the box to Himeno's family. After all, it contained things that belonged to her. Every time he cleaned the house, he'd find something new. Sometimes he'd open his kitchen cabinets and see that silly mug she always used to drink coffee out of whenever she was around. Sometimes he'd come across that magazine she was reading in the balcony while smoking her cigarette in the morning after staying the night. He would find more pieces of her clothing anytime he did laundry or searched his drawers. Every day, he would randomly come across something of hers and every day he would cry one less tear when thinking of her, as he neatly folded away everything that remained of her into a plastic box he kept under his bed. "I'll send this to her sister," he told himself every day.

Himeno's sister would occasionally send him letters and he would reply back much later, always starting his own letter with an apology for the delay, but it's just that work has been insane and he can't bring himself to focus on anything for longer than a few minutes. Most of the time, the girl just described very trivial things in a few sentences, maybe in the way she would have written to Himeno herself. She'd started university in Osaka, made a couple of friends and she was learning to drive, too. Aki liked to imagine Himeno doing these mundane things. Maybe in another life she would have had long hair up in a French-style braid, she would have two good eyes and no eyepatch, she would have worn pretty sundresses in the Summer and maybe she would work part-time in a bakery or a pharmacy to help out her family with money.

"I'm not really drunk," she confessed, her expression completely shifting in a millisecond. "I just needed an excuse-"

"An excuse to act weird? Come on Hime, we all know you," Aki laughed. He felt tipsy but nowhere near drunk. She definitely had a few drinks, but he'd seen her in much worse shape.

"Did you feel anything," she asked, her voice suddenly cracking as her face glowed red. He nodded, leaving her wide-eyed. "I did," he simply responded. He wasn't sure if her air conditioner was broken or what, but he suddenly felt quite hot. A weird sensation pooled at his upper thighs, all the way up to his stomach and he wasn't sure why: maybe he was drunker than he thought he was, maybe it was just the effect of having an objectively attractive woman lying next to him wearing only panties and a little tank top. She was no Makima, sure, but she- she was better, actually.

"Can we do it again?"

His question caught her completely off-guard, even more so when he closed his eyes and shifted so their faces were barely an inch away from one another. Just like that, his lips were on hers and they felt a lot softer than she would have imagined. Maybe the coconut lip balm actually worked, she mused, kissing back. Aki's hand found its way to the crook of her neck, gently holding her in place as he deepened the kiss as much as he physically could.

"A-Aki," she breathed loudly, her head spinning and her heart about to burst. Before she could say anything else, he had her pinned down as he straddled her waist. He hovered over her for a minute before meeting her lips again.

The little tank top she wore that night somehow found its way into his wardrobe. He folded it neatly and it soon joined all the other tokens in his box under his bed and once again he promised himself he would send the box with all of his former partner's belongings to her family. Slowly, however, other things started to find their way inside the box, things that didn't necessarily belong to Himeno, but reminded Aki of her. The pair of earrings he got when she dragged him to get his ears pierced. A funny lighter she had gifted him once with a picture of a cartoon character with huge boobs. A copy of her favourite record. Soon, the box was overflowing with memories of her. There wasn't even a body left to bury or burn, her grave was nothing but an empty piece of land with a tombstone adorning it, yet she had left so much of herself behind, in his home and in him. Aki himself felt like a grave of sorts, but not in a somber way. He carried so much of Himeno inside his heart that he was a living altar for her life.

"Don't die on me, Aki. I want you to cry for me when I die."

She had gotten her wish, he realised. He could die now.

#aki x himeno #akimeno #aki hayakawa #himeno #chainsaw man

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does-this-look-writing-to-you · 2 years

Text

Sick Day

words: 1138 universe: college au characters: Logan, Patton pairings: platonic Logicality (can be read as pre-romantic) warnings: illness a/n: wow! a sanders sides fic! i haven’t done one of these in, like, seven months! i’ve been hanging onto this idea for a long time. the idea came from a good friend of mine, and i’d actually written out the beginning months before i finished. i’d abandoned this idea for a while until a few weeks ago, when i realised my idea worked quite well for a short story assignment i had to do for my creative writing class. so, yes, i am submitting a piece of sanders sides fanfiction for a college class. my professor won’t notice, right? as a note, because the harry potter series is featured briefly in this fic, i want to make it very clear that i, as a trans person and as someone who isn’t stupid, do not support j.k. rowling one bit. i needed a book, and i didn’t feel like making one up.

In the fifteen years during which Logan Lawson had attended school, he never missed a single day due to a measly cold or stomach bug. After all, if he wanted to become an astronomer, he had to make sacrifices to continue on that path. He had been taught to tough it out; after all, there was always a chance that he could miss something important. And thanks to his persistence, he never had.

So when he woke up one morning and felt as if he was on fire, he hardly thought anything of it. He simply got out of bed and went about his normal routine. He dressed himself in a white collared shirt, a dark blue sweater, and a pair of khaki pants. He headed into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror, combing one hand through his hair in an attempt to make himself presentable. Satisfied, he wasted no time in washing his face and brushing his teeth, before coming into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. His roommate was already there, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning, Logan!” he chirped.

“Hello, Patton.” Logan winced internally at how sick he sounded. I’m fine, he told himself. He took his thermos from the cabinet. Maybe he didn’t even notice.

But judging by the concern that crossed Patton’s face, he’d clearly noticed. “Are you okay? You don’t sound too good.”

“I’m fine,” Logan insisted, taking the pot of coffee out from under the coffee machine and pouring himself a cup. Unfortunately for him, he was overtaken with a coughing fit.

“You don’t sound fine,” he argued. “You sound like you’re sick.”

“So what?”

“So you should take today off, so you can recover. You’ll be miserable if you go to school.”

“I’ll be fine,” he told Patton. “I’ve gone to class sick plenty of times.”

He looked shocked. “That’s not healthy!”

“Well, I have to go to class. What if I miss an important lesson?”

“Then you can ask your professor or one of your classmates for the notes!” Patton pleaded desperately. “Logan, please. Your well-being comes first.”

He opened his mouth to refuse, but before he could even process it Patton had picked him up and was carrying him into his bedroom bridal-style. Logan struggled, but his roommate didn’t let go until they reached his bedroom. He set Logan down on the bed.

“I’m gonna need you to change into your pajamas,” Patton told him.

“My pajamas are dirty.” He had planned to do his laundry today after his classes.

“Then I’ll let you borrow some of mine.”

“Won’t they be too big for me?”

“It’s better than nothing. You wait right here.” Patton left the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as his roommate left, Logan sprang to his feet. I have never missed a single day of class in my entire life, and I refuse to do so now.

He scrambled over to the window and thrust it open. He began to clamber through the half-open window. His head and torso fit through the gap well enough, but he began to rethink his plan as he felt his rear get stuck in the gap. He desperately wiggled his body in an attempt to move forward.

“Excuse me,” came a voice from behind him, and Logan felt his heart sink.

Curse my voluptuous posterior! He felt something tugging at his legs and just let himself go limp, utterly exhausted from his escape attempt. In no time, he was back inside and face to face with a very displeased-looking Patton.

“Logan, I’m trying to help you.”

“I know. I’m sorry I made you angry.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed.” He sighed, pressing his fingers to his temples.

What a Dad thing to say. Only he isn’t my father. He’s my roommate. Why does he even care?

“I’m just trying to take care of you, Logan. Everyone gets sick sometimes. You can’t just tough it out. Sometimes, you just need to take a day to let yourself be vulnerable.”

“But…”

“No but’s. You’re going to stay here. And I’m going to stay with you all day.”

“You have class,” he objected.

“I can always ask for the notes, remember?”

“We aren’t friends. You have no reason to care whether I stay here or not.”

“Yes, I do.” Patton looked him in the eyes. “Maybe we’re not friends. Maybe we’ll never see each other again when we move out of this dorm. But friends or not, everyone deserves to rest when they’re sick.”

Logan didn’t respond. He simply grumbled in defeat, which seemed to satisfy his rather pushy roommate.

“I know you won’t. I’ll make sure of it. Here, I brought you some PJs.” He handed him a set of messily folded flannel pajamas that he’d set on the bed.

“You change into those. I’ll give you some privacy, but you’d better not try and leave again.”

He gave Logan a stern look and stepped outside the room, shutting the door and leaving him alone again. Big mistake. He moved toward the window as quietly as he could. He began to open it, intending to create a larger opening for himself to escape easier. However, he failed to take into account the whoosh sound it made when he opened it. Patton opened the door again, clearly disappointed.

“Again?”

“It was worth a shot.”

“It absolutely wasn’t.” He crossed the room and shut the window.

“I don’t wanna do this, but I’m gonna have to stay here while you change. I’ll look away, don’t worry.” He turned to face the wall.

“You really won’t leave me alone, will you?” Logan remarked as he undressed.

“Nope!”

He sighed and folded his clothes, setting them aside and putting on Patton’s pajamas. He had to admit, they were very comfortable. “You can turn around now.”

Patton faced him again, looking pleased. “Thank you! Now, you get into bed.”

Logan obeyed. He would never say it aloud, but he was utterly exhausted. He had never liked having to trudge through the day when he was sick; it only made him miserable. His escape attempts this morning had only drained him of energy, even faster than a full day of classes would.

Patton took the chair from Logan’s desk and pulled it up beside the bed. “Why don’t I read you something?”

“Why would you?”

“It’s what my mom used to do when I was sick. You can pick the book.”

“Alright. First book of Harry Potter?”

“Sure!” He took the book off the shelf and sat down, beginning to read. The more he read, the more Logan started to feel his eyelids grow heavy. Before long, he let them flicker shut. Maybe, he thought, as he began to drift off to sleep, it’s alright to let myself rest.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #ts logan #ts patton #logicality #platonic logicality #pre-romantic logicality #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #logicality fic #logicality fanfic #logicality fanfiction

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

12, 6, and 11 for the au prompt thing dude! best of luck with ur writing :)

Kara has been studying the terrarium for the past five minutes, and she has deduced that she is no closer to solving this mystery than she is figuring out how to fix a cracked blender.

This might be the most puzzling moment of her career. She debates using X-ray vision, but she’s not entirely sure what to look for, exactly, so she tries connecting via pure eye-to-eye vibes. It doesn’t work as well as she hoped; it might just make her look slightly deranged, she concludes, if the wrong person were to walk in.

Which is why when the door bangs open and Lena stalks in, Kara ever-so-stealthily stretches her arm over the counter (and pointedly angles away from the box.)

“Heey, Lena,” Kara says, voice higher than necessary. “What’s up?”

Having come straight from work, everything about Lena is severe, from the tight bun on her head to the sharp color of her lipstick, and paired with a frown directed entirely at Kara’s way, Lena has never been scarier. “What are you doing?”

Kara glances sideways at the terrarium. “Well,” she says carefully, “Conner and I have been reading up on lizard habits because Iggy has been acting weird, and we think she could be pregnant. So I was just—”

“He. You mean he,” Lena corrects.

“…oh.” Kara frowns. “Then we have no idea why Iggy is acting weird.”

“That’s—” Lena has to pause to inhale and then exhale, which Kara recognizes is a therapist-recommended breathing exercise, and that must mean Lena is in a particularly dangerous mood. “That’s not what I need to talk to you about.”

“Okay,” Kara says slowly. “So what do you need to talk to me about?”

“Conner told me you took him flying this afternoon,” Lena replies instantly, daringly, as if just waiting for Kara to contradict her statement.

Kara tries extremely hard to keep a straight face. “Oh,” she says evasively. “That.”

“Yes, that. What the hell, Kara,” Lena says. “We agreed you would ask me about anything related to—to—you know!”

“Uh, actually, we didn’t,” Kara points out. “You just said to let you know if he started losing control, and he hasn’t. I just wanted to do something fun with him because he’s been asking about flying, and I figured, we had a free afternoon—”

“That’s not enough, Kara,” Lena hisses, but her voice quivers, like she is about to start crying; it’s a horrible, awful sound, and it makes Kara wince. “I know that it’s…the thought that counts, but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it. I didn’t hire you to train my son. I hired you to keep him safe. What if someone had seen him?”

“Whoa,” Kara says gently. “Lena, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“But you did! You—”

The shuffle of feet makes Lena stop altogether, and Conner sheepishly pokes his head into his room. “Mom? Kara?” he says, then hastily adds, “I wasn’t listening. Just—in case you two are doing gross stuff—” (Kara doesn’t know if she should be offended that this teenager really thinks she’d be making out with his mom in his room). “Aunt Sam is here to pick me up.”

Lena whirls around to face him, expression already softening. “Oh, that’s right, you have that movie night with the team,” she says. “Do you have the money I gave you? And your sweater? I saw it on the floor of the laundry room yesterday so if you didn't pick it up—”

“Yes, I have everything,” Conner insists before she can go on. “I just wanted to say bye.”

“Alright, darling. Have a good time.” Lena fondly reaches out to squeeze his arm, and he grins at her, already twisting around to head towards the door.

“Bye, see you later!” he calls, and Lena sighs the instant he’s gone, her shoulders slumping as if the fight has been drained from her body entirely.

Kara swallows. “Lena…”

But Lena has begun to shake her head, and she sinks onto Conner’s bed, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says, once she recovers enough to raise her head. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

Kara tentatively takes a seat beside her. “You didn’t yell…it was more like impassioned ranting,” she says. “And I’m the only one who’s supposed to be sorry. I should have told him no, or at least checked with you first, when he asked.”

“No, I…I should have expected this would happen. Isn’t that what we’re doing here?” Lena’s eyes are wet, her lipstick smudged on her palms. “Of course he’s curious. I can’t expect that he’ll be satisfied hiding who he is forever.”

“No, wait,” Kara counters. “I should have been safer about it. I’m Supergirl. It's supposed to be in the job description! Right along with, you know, sneak-babysitting a half-Kryptonian teenager by pretending I'm dating his mom.”

The joke makes Lena laugh, even if it’s a short burst of one, watery and distinctly unamused. “God. You really are his babysitter, aren't you?”

“Only on school nights,” Kara quips. “Otherwise, we’re brothers in arms against all things broccoli. And your blender.”

“Still, I—wait. You’re the one who broke my blender?”

“Let’s not dwell on specifics here, Lena,” Kara says. “But. Yes? On accident.” She clasps her hands together, tries not to squirm as Lena looks at her. “The point is, I should’ve told him no when he asked. But I…I was just worried, you know? I’m his mom’s fun girlfriend, I’m supposed to get him to like me.”

“Kara,” Lena says, and her voice is quiet, the same tone she uses whenever Conner gets too angry. “You know you’re not my real girlfriend.”

“I know,” Kara says, and she feels her stomach twist; she hadn’t realized how much she hates to see Lena so pained. “But Conner doesn’t. And he’s…He’s a great kid.”

“He is,” Lena agrees. “He is—all the best parts of your cousin, you know? Of your family. He’s so brave. And so selfless. I-I guess that’s why I’m afraid to let him out into the world like you are. Because if you start training him to be some sort of…Superboy, then he’ll be in danger every minute of every day. And that’s terrifying.”

Despite herself, Kara smiles, just a bit. “Superboy, huh?”

Lena flushes. “Well, it’s the first thing I could think of,” she says lamely, and she’s adorable, all pink and flustered.

“You know,” Kara says carefully, “just because Conner is half Superman, it doesn’t mean he’s supposed to put on a cape and run around like an idiot.”

At that, Lena’s mouth drops open. “You—you listened to me with your super-hearing?!”

“Uh, no,” Kara corrects. “That’s how you described my job, word for word, that night you got drunk off a bottle of wine and made me watch horrible bug videos on Youtube. I’m still traumatized.” A beat. “From the bugs, anyway. The ‘idiot’ part wasn’t too far off mark, to be honest.”

Lena rests a fingertip to her temple and sighs. “Kara,” she says slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About the bugs? Well, I figured if you didn’t remember, I really didn’t want you to accost me again if you knew I actually sat there and watched them the first time. Because for the record, I don’t care how scientifically amazing spider exoskeletons are, they freak me out. And don’t get me started on caterpillars—”

“Can you be serious?” Lena all-but-hisses, though comfortingly, she looks more mortified than angry. “How could you have stuck around even after I insulted you?”

“Oh. ‘Cause I know you didn’t mean it,” Kara says. “Obviously you meant it a little, but not in a rude way. Just in a general, you're-a-dumbass-with-no-self-preservation-skills kind of way. Right?”

“That’s…” Lena deflates a bit. “Pretty accurate.”

Kara snaps her fingers triumphantly. “I knew it,” she says, chest puffing in pride, “you love me.”

Lena frowns (in her practically patented what the fuck kind of frown that usually only happens whenever Kara tries to cook). “What? How on Earth did you reach that conclusion?”

“Simple! You think I should have more self-preservation skills and only call me a caped idiot because I’m not more careful. Ergo, you worry about me, because you love me so much,” Kara says.

There is a pause as Lena’s confusion slowly morphs into the most deadpan stare she can muster. “You are so infuriating sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s okay, Lena. We all know I’m the best babysitter slash bodyguard you’ve ever had,” Kara says. “And the best girlfriend.”

“Fake girlfriend.”

Kara shrugs a shoulder and aims for casual as she peels at a loose thread on Conner’s comforter; for some reason, the emphasis just makes her stomach drop. (Unfortunately, her strength just about rips the whole corner off, so she discreetly tries to hide it within the dip of his bed frame.)

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kara waves that off, once she’s successfully managed to appear so uninterested, like the stealthy superhero she is. “So does this mean we’re not fighting anymore?”

“We were never fighting,” Lena says, and there’s a touch of guilt to her voice. When Kara scoots a little closer, Lena looks away; Kara doesn’t mean to, but she hears Lena’s heart rate pick up, and it’s…well, it gives her a little bit of hope. “I just happen to like yelling at my employees. It’s a Luthor trait, I’m afraid.”

“You know, that excuse really doesn’t work for everything,” Kara points out, and her fingertips brush against the inside of Lena’s wrist as she makes the excuse of poking her hand. “Honey.”

“Okay, now we’re fighting.” But Lena turns to look at her, and her heartbeat is so quick that Kara feels it like a burst of pure, unadulterated sunlight on her body.

“I’ll be sure to let Conner know,” Kara says, completely straight-faced. “Because, you know, we’re obviously going to have to have fake makeup sex and—hey! No pillow fights when I’m unarmed, that’s so unfair!”

But Lena is finally smiling, and her expression is soft and so very human, and Kara knows there is nothing fake at all about the way she feels about Lena Luthor and her son. Somehow this borderline-eccentric (and exceedingly paranoid) scientist and half-Kryptonian teenager have become everything, and it's worth a Star Wars pillow square to the nose if it means she gets to keep them in her world.

(Or, at least, for however long Lena will have her).

#this is for babysitter!au + fake dating + “i know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.”#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #(at this point its a pride thing to finish these ok)#titans au #general concept of the titans au anyway !#figured since it wont see the light of day i can steal my own ideas #😌😌😌

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lazysimp · 3 years

Text

Dark Clouds (+18) /// Shoto x Male Reader

Click HERE to read the Fem version

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only Minors DNI

Summary: You love Shoto more than anything but what if you were the only thing standing in between him and his dreams? Smut+Angst

A prequel to Cloud Nine.

Word count: 3k+

Warnings/tags: Angst, Blackmail, Morning Sex, Breakup, Soft Dom Shoto, Praise, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (receiving), He/Him pronouns, All characters are adults.

masterlist┃AO3

“Oh fuck Shoto! Please just a little more,” You beg, your back arching off the bed as you push his head down. Your fiancé had made it a habit to wake you up with his mouth on your cock, licking up your cum like it was his last meal.

After living together for a month you thought he would finally start to calm down but his need for you had only grown. He had barely left the apartment, deciding to take a vacation to spoil you instead of working on climbing the ranks. You tried to convince him to focus more on his career, but he would drop to his knees every time you brought it up.

“I love this pretty cock,” He groaned, swiping his tongue over your tender glands as more precum leaked from your slit. His lips closed around your tip, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your tight hole.

You yelp and clench your thighs, caging in his head but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, your soft thighs against his ears sent him into a frenzy. He thrust his long fingers into you, curling them up to press against your sweet spot.

Your body bolts up, curling around his head but he continued on, never giving you an ounce of mercy. With your head directly above his, the lewd sounds of his mouth filled your ear, sending you further down the rabbit hole.

He released your cock from his mouth and moved to your hole to gather more of your addicting taste with his tongue. “My baby has such a good hole. So tight and hot, and it’s all mine.”

You let out a whine at his praise, you wanted to always belong to him. To never leave his side as he rose to meet his dreams.

He added a third lubed finger into your ass, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. You hiss at the slight burn but it fades quickly as his expert fingers began to fall in temperature, soothing the ache. He had always been so considerate during sex, always making sure you were well stretched before he ever tried to enter you.

The first time the two of you had sex was not the greatest but it was a moment in your life you would never forget. For hours he explored your body, experimenting and exploring you to understand exactly what you liked. By the end of the night, you were both absolutely exhausted, barely able to move.

His tongue returned to your cock, teasing the side of it with the tongue as his fingers continue to pump into your ass. Your breathing grows frantic and your body becomes tight as the pleasure swelled inside you. You could feel your thighs tremble around his head and your hands shake.

He smiled as your sweet hole trembled around his fingers, his baby was close. Remembering to not speed up he kept his movements consistent, listening for your little mewls to direct his touch.

As your breathing grew more labored and body tense he took you all the way into his mouth, sucking to pull every last ounce of pleasure from you. It was the final straw, he watched in awe as you fell apart. Your ass milking his fingers while your cock pulsed in his mouth with each spurt of cum.

Normally he would keep his mouth on your cock, cleaning up your orgasm with his tongue but he had to be at work in twenty minutes. Grudgingly he moved his mouth from your sex and rose to his knees. He gently slid his hands under you and flipped you over, exposing your mouthwatering ass to his view.

Holding his breath to stop from cumming, he lifted your hips up and pushed your back down. It looked as though you were presenting yourself to him. While he loved watching your face as you cum, this view definitely had its perks.

Lining his tip with your entrance he watched himself sink into you. Your cute moans filling his ears, serenading him as he bottomed out. Wanting a better view, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and spread it open, exposing your tight rosebud. He ignored your squeal of protest and started to thrust, watching you take his cock so perfectly.

Each thrust into your tight heat drove him further into insanity. He would never grow tired of this, tired of you. He still wasn’t sure how he managed to get you to agree to marry him, it still felt unreal, like someone was going to rip the floor out from under him. Something as good as you never happened to someone like him, something always messed it up.

“Shoto,” You whine, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Fuck, I need more.”

Determined to have you cum around his cock he reached around and wrapped his hand around the base of your cock. He let out a sly grin watching your body jerk as he thrust his hand, knowing the extra stimulation would send you right over the edge.

“Please, Shoto, please,” You begged, the tight coil inside your chest reeling tighter with each lazy pump of his hand. You lose the ability to speak, only moans leaving your lips.

“That’s it, that is my good boy. So perfect for me. I want you to cum on my cock while I watch,” He says hoarsely behind you. That was all it took, the spring inside you snapped sending you spiraling into oblivion.

Your toes curl in uncontrollably as you scream into the pillow, the brutal waves of pleasure crashing into you. You couldn’t even breathe as your rode out each pulsing wave. His hand did not stop milking your cock, instead teasing you through the high. Making you ride the wave as long as possible before his thrusts started to fall out of rhythm.

You lay face down into the bed, exhausted as he finally falls apart. You could feel his cock pulse inside you as his cum fills you. Once he finally finished he rolled off the top and laid next to you, pulling you into his arms.

You both lay there for a few minutes, not needing words as you recover from the morning quickie. Shoto pushed himself up on his elbows and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. He then stood out of bed and started to get ready. You lie in bed and watch as he dons his uniform and smooths out his sex hair.

“I should be home for dinner today, I am only scheduled to patrol until five.”

You nod, “Do you want to go out? Mina said the new soba place was really good.”

Shoto flashed you a warm smile, “I would love that, I’ll see you tonight.”

You push up on your elbows to meet his lips for one last kiss before he leaves. No matter how many times you kissed him, he always managed to take your breath away. You bring your hand up to his cheek as he slowly pulled away and looked into his eyes.

“Please be safe.”

He tilts his head into your hand, giving you some of its weight. “Don’t worry, I promise I will always come back to you.”

You drop your hand and lay back down, watching as he leaves the confines of the bedroom, and listened for the front door to close. Slipping on one of your lazy shirts, you make your way to the kitchen. You grab a few ingredients and cook a quick breakfast, eating it while you watch the news. Thankfully there was nothing big going on in the city, only a few petty criminals.

Shoto was more capable of taking care of himself but it was hard not to worry. You knew what you signed up for when you agreed to go out with Shoto, but he made all the stress and worry worth it.

You sit at the small counter and eat your breakfast. You avoid scheduling anything on your days off just in case they let Shoto off early so you had nothing planned. You put your dishes in the sink and start to collect some laundry, you could at least clean up some before you rested.

A loud buzz filled the apartment signaling someone was wanting to come up. You drop off the laundry and click on the speaker. Shoto had chosen this apartment because of the added security measures in place. No one could come up to the floor without a key or explicit permission.

“Hello?” You say into the small mic, unsure who would be asking to come up. Shoto hadn’t mention anyone planning on coming over.

“Can I come up?” The deep powerful voice of Endeavor said to the mic.

For a brief moment, your heart stopped. You tried to frantically think of what to say but no words came to mind. You had only ever met him once and you had Shoto by your side. You know he does not approve of your relationship with Shoto, after all, Shoto is going to be one of the world’s strongest heroes and you were well you.

“Just a minute,” You say to buy time as you debate whether or not to call Shoto. On one hand, having him by your side would keep Endeavor in line but on the other, you should be able to handle being around your fiance’s father. After all once you get married he will be family.

You suck in a stabilizing breath and call down to the front desk to give Endeavor permission to come up. While you waited for him to arrive you run to the bedroom and quickly put on a more presentable outfit. You still wanted to call Shoto, to have his supporting hand at the small of your back as you talk to the flame hero.

Three stern knocks signaled that Endeavor had arrived. You turn the knob and ignore the dread filling your stomach, you could do this. Endeavor knew better than to hurt you, he probably just wanted to talk about your engagement.

You stood frozen in the doorway and stare at the flame hero. He did not have any of his usual fire blazing, letting you see his natural hair better. Without his flames or hero uniform, he was a lot less intimidating.

You plaster on your best smile, “Please, come in.”

He steps into your shared apartment and takes off his shoes. You smile, this was definitely a good start. You both silently make your way to the dining room and sit. You were unsure what you need to do so you sit silently and wait.

Endeavor cleared his throat, “This is a very nice place the two of you share. Shoto chose well.”

You give a cautious smile, “I do really love this apartment. I have never lived somewhere with a view as nice as this one and it is easy for both of us to get to work from here.��

Endeavor nodded, “I won’t waste any more of your time, pretending to be here for a visit. I am sure you have seen the news lately. Shoto has fallen over two spots in rank compared to last year. After evaluating his skills and performance in the field, my agency has determined that his fall in rank is due to the amount of time he is taking off.”

You stiffen in your seat, scared of where this is going to go.

“I allowed this relationship to continue as it was not worth getting Shoto upset with my interference, but this is going too far. You are ruining his chances at becoming the number one hero.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Excuse me!”

Endeavor reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small booklet. He opens it to reveal a single check. He pushes it over to you, the box for the amount was blank.

“You fill out how much you want to leave this relationship.”

“You can’t be serious, what kind of person do you think I am?”

Endeavor’s face held no emotion, “How much?”

Your face twists in anger, “Fuck you! I’m not leaving Shoto, not for any amount of money. You can take this check and shove it-”

“If you do not leave I will be forced to take action.”

A rush of fear runs through you, “What do you mean?”

Endeavor sighed, “I let Shoto leave my agency with the understanding that he would still work to climb his way to the top. He is no longer doing this. If he continues like this I will have to call up the agency he is working at and have him removed from their staff.”

“Removed, you mean fired. You will have him fired because he is going to marry me?” Your throat began to grow tight as the world started to close in around you.

“I am going to have him removed because he can’t do his job properly and be with you.”

You begin to shake, “And how is that going to help him become the number one hero?”

“Simple, he will have to come work for me again. Under my influence, he will take over the number one spot in no time.”

“You know he hates working for you. He loves the agency he is working at, you would rip that way from him?”

Endeavor’s flames started to sprout, “I have seen too many heroes with potential never amount to anything because of relationships like yours. I will be damned if the same happens to Shoto.”

“So I will talk to Shoto about not taking as much time off.” You try to reason.

Endeavor shakes his head, “It is far too late for that. It is not just me who is taking notice to his slacking. If he continues to behave the way he is, I won’t even need to make the call to have him removed. If you want him to not have to work for me you will leave him or all of this will be your fault.”

Endeavor stands to his full height, “After today if I see you anywhere with him he will come to work for me whether he wants to or not.”

He leaves you to sit alone in the apartment. You sit still in your chair, unsure what to think. How could a morning that started so perfect end up like this? You somehow managed not to cry, too focused on figuring out what to do.

You know Shoto loved you, he made sure to tell you almost every day, but could he love you if it meant he had to do something he hated? He loved working at the agency with Inasa and others. The time he spent working under his dad was some of the most miserable of his life.

The entire reason the two of you even met was that he went out with his friends to celebrate finally leaving his father’s agency. How could you ask him to stay with you if it meant returning to misery?

With no one to turn to you flip on the tv, needed background noise as you try to find a solution. You could not ask Mina or Kirishima for help, they would spill to Shoto the minute you told them. If he even caught a hint at what was going on he would go berserk.

You had only ever seen him mad once when a fan tried to throw something at you. His entire demeanor changed from quiet and calm into a simmering rage. He would have easily laid out the fan but you somehow managed to calm him enough to convince him to go home. He had spent hours fucking you to get out his rage. By the time he was back to normal your entire body was covered in hickeys and bruises.

You shake your head to clear your mind of, this was not time to think about sex. You look around the apartment you share with Shoto and feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn’t want to leave him. Being with him these past few months had been the happiest of your life. You had never loved someone like you loved him.

Could you live with yourself if you had to watch the beautiful light in his eyes fade if he worked for Endeavor? In the dark of night, Shoto would confide in you about his childhood. How his father only saw him as a tool to overcome All Might. If you stayed with him he would have to be around that mindset every day.

Shoto deserved happiness, even if it was not with you. He was young and handsome, he could easily find someone else. You know it will be hard on him but you could not live with yourself if you had to watch him grow to be miserable.

You lift your chin up, you had to break up with Shoto, it was the only option.

You turn to the bedroom and grab a duffel bag you used moving in. You had to move your stuff out before he got home. You know if he had time he would be able to convince you to stay.

You haphazardly pack away your clothes, not bothering to fold the piles as you shove them into the bag. You would only be able to pack a bag without a car to move.

The small click of a lock stopped you dead in your tracts. No, he wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour. The bag drops out of your fingers and you run to the living room. He was standing in the kitchen with the fridge open. He did always get hungry after patrol.

He turned his head at the sound of your footsteps and smiled. Your heart finally broke in half, you were never going to have this again. Deep sobs tore up your throat and before you could stop them fat tears began to fall.

Shoto’s face filled with panic and he rushed over to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice filled with panic.

This only makes you cry harder, you didn’t want to do this. The weight of your loss grew stronger as his hold tightened.

“W-we have to break up,” You incoherently sob into his chest.

“Baby, I don’t understand what you are saying, can you look at me?” He gently bruised his hand up your forehead pushing your head back so he could look into your eyes.

Your lower lip trembles but you somehow manage to speak, “I am calling off the engagement, I can’t do this anymore.”

You watch as his face drops, his eyes wide with confusion, “Baby, what are you talking about? What is wrong, did something happen when I was gone?”

You shake your head, “I can’t do this anymore.” Lie. “Being with you is exhausting.” Lie. “I thought you were the one but I was wrong.” Lies, lies, lies. You hate every word that comes from your lips but this had to hurt. You had to make him hate you, it was the only way.

He drops the arms that once held you close to him, “I don’t, I don’t understand? We were fine this morning, what happened?” His blue eyes were glossy with unfallen tears.

You wrapped your arms tight around your waist for mock comfort. “I-I have been thinking about this since you proposed, I can’t handle dating a hero it is too much stress. I am m-miserable.”

Watching Shoto struggle to speak as he processed what you said hurt more than just ripping your own heart out.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner? Why did you let this go on for so long if you felt that way?”

You shake your head, “I thought I would get used to it, but it has only gotten worse.”

“But this morning and every day before that you never said anything. You seemed happy.” He turned his back to you and walked towards the kitchen.

“Why now? What changed?”

You needed to end this before he asked any more questions, you let thick walls close around your heart and go for the kill, “Because I don’t love you anymore.”

His entire face crumbles as if you had stabbed him. Unable to look at him any longer you grab your duffel from the bedroom. You take one last look at the bedroom, the bed still a mess after this morning.

The weight of your loss was so suffocating you couldn’t even breathe as you walk past Shoto. He stood still in the living room unmoving in shock. He blinked strongly a few times like he was trying to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

You reach the front door “I am going to stay at Mina’s if you need anything. I’m so sorry Shoto.”

This was for the best, he could receiver from losing you. You were only in his life for a few months but his dream of being a hero had been lifelong. This breakup will only be a road bump in his journey to success. You knew he will reach the top, it just won’t be with you.

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dumbikawa · 3 years

Text

Taking Care of the HQ Boys

GN!Reader | Fluff | Warnings: None

Characters: Suna, Kuroo, Iwaizumi

A/n: I’m such a simp for these boys it’s insane

SUNA

It took Suna a while to get used to the way you never held back when it came to taking care of him. One night, after a particularly rough practice, he’d sluggishly entered the apartment and practically collapsed on top of where you were laying on the couch. Wordlessly, you positioned yourself so that he was resting on your lap with both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was comfortably silent as you ran your fingers through his hair that was still slightly damp from showering at the gym and in no time at all he was softly snoring.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he loved when you took care of him in little ways like that. From the start, he had always insisted on being the big spoon, obsessed with the way your body perfectly molded against his and the satisfaction of knowing you felt safe in his arms. Ever since that night, though, it became a regular thing for you to see him standing, looking at you like a pouty child, from the corner of your eye waiting for you to take the hint that he wanted you to cuddle him. You'd simply open your arms for him to crawl into without even having to look up from your phone.

Today was no exception.

Suna can feel the physical exhaustion down to his bones as he allows the cool water to wash away the sweat and grime he collected over the course of practice. Mentally he feels the same; completely drained in every sense of the word. He can’t even find the energy to thoroughly dry his hair, opting to quickly rub it with a towel before making his way to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed.

“Rin!” you gently scold, placing the book you’d been reading beside you on the bed. “You’re going to ruin your pillow.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, eyes remaining shut as he lets out a content sigh. He did care, actually, but his decision was already made and now that he was in bed there was no way he was getting up. He truly meant that, but when he feels you tugging at his hand for him to get up he begrudgingly obliges.

You’re holding your hair dryer and gesturing for him to sit on the floor. It doesn’t seem wise to disobey when you look so determined, so he slides off the bed, giving you full access to his sopping mess of hair.

His eyes flutter closed as the warmth from the hairdryer and the way your fingers are skillfully brushing through his hair begins to pull him towards sleep. Not to mention, in this position he has the perfect opportunity to use your thigh as a pillow and he makes a mental note to have you dry his hair more often. But, sadly, the flow of warm air shuts off and your voice pulls him back to the present.

“C’mon you big baby,” you laugh, watching him groan and throw himself back up on the bed. He shimmies under the covers, but refuses to place his head back on the damp pillow. Instead, he stares at you with sleepy eyes until you’ve positioned yourself so that you can sit comfortably and open your arms for him.

His arms automatically snake around your waist as he buries his head in your side.

“Do I do enough to take care of you?” he asks softly, turning to look up at you with a vulnerability that he doesn't often display so openly.

“Of course, Rin,” you hum, tracing your fingers down his exposed back. He still seems unsure as he pushes his face against your shirt, but his shoulders relax slightly. “I mean it. I like taking care of you, okay? There’s nothing to repay if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Your reassurance falls on deaf ears, though, as you feel his breathing even out and his grip on you loosening.

“I love you, baby,” you whisper, grabbing your book from where you’d set it earlier and relishing in the quiet as you continued to absentmindedly draw designs against Suna's warm skin.

KUROO

Kuroo closes the apartment door quietly, finally letting his shoulders droop with exhaustion now that he's inside. He slips his bag noiselessly onto the ground and flicks his watch up to check the time. It was well past midnight by the time he actually clocked out of work and, although he wants nothing more than a dual welcome home/goodnight kiss from you, he hopes you’re sound asleep by now.

However, much to his surprise, you’re curled up on the couch with a book and a warm cup of tea, so enthralled in whatever you’re reading that you don't hear him approach. There’s a strong possibility you aren’t even aware of what time it is, completely lost in another world. He tests this theory by walking behind the couch and wrapping his arms around you, chuckling at the way you jump at the sudden contact.

“Welcome home!” you beam once you recover from the small scare. You press a quick kiss to his upturned lips before he walks around to the front so that he can relieve a proper hug.

“Thank you, babe,” he murmurs against your lips, not wanting to pull away from your warmth just yet. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I wanted to wait for you and then I got to this really good part in my book and just...lost track of what time it was.” The way your eyes light up sends a wave of admiration shooting straight through Kuroo’s heart. “How was work? Why did you have to stay so late?”

Kuroo begins walking you through his hectic day, quickly turning the discussion into an irritated rant about having to fix other people’s mistakes and figuring out schedules for upcoming projects. You listen thoughtfully as you migrate towards the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing closely behind.

Soon, there was a cup of hot tea in his hands and the two of you are positioned on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

Your eyes never leave his as he talks, nodding along and asking questions every now and then. He didn’t need nor want any sort of advice or words of wisdom. Simply having you listen to him was enough to have him feeling ten times lighter by the time he reached the bottom of his cup.

“Do you want more?” you ask, beginning to stand up. Kuroo doesn’t answer, instead leaning forward and hooking his arm around your waist so that you fall back into his arms.

“More of you, yes,” he says, smiling into your hair. He can practically feel the way your eyes roll as you let out an exasperated groan at his cheesy comment, but the hint of a blush making its way to your cheeks betrays you.

You make the first move to get up, offering a hand out to him. His hand engulfs yours as you pull him towards the bedroom. The bed has new sheets and the laundry is sitting in a basket freshly washed and ready to be folded. A wave of guilt crashes into him, knowing that you also worked today and must’ve come home afterwards and cleaned up.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten some rest,” Kuroo sighs, gesturing to the laundry and neatly made bed. "I'm certain it was my turn to do the laundry.”

“Yeah, but when you told me you had to work late I figured I’d knock out some chores since I had the time. It’s not like it’s a big deal, Tetsu.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The words have barely left his lips before he's throwing the covers over the two of you and shutting off the lights. His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you close to him, relishing in your small giggles. It doesn't take long for you to drift to sleep while Kuroo places soft kisses against your exposed shoulders. He soon follows, matching his breathing with yours and immediately winding down, but until his brain finally shuts off from exhaustion he's thinking of all the ways he's going to show you just how much he appreciates everything you do.

IWAIZUMI

Iwaizumi watches as you begin cooking dinner for the two of you as a quiet pop song plays off your phone. His work day was less than stellar, to put it simply, but watching you dance around the kitchen has already earned the frown from his face and has him smiling like a damn fool.

“Haji!” you exclaim, suddenly noticing the lurking figure from the corner of your eye. He steps out from his hiding place, an amused yet sheepish look on his face as he notices your flustered expression. “Why were you just standing there? Come here and give me a kiss, idiot.” He raises his hands in surrender as he does what you say, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment longer than usual and wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, resting his face into the crook of your neck. You pull back slightly, ignoring his childlike protests as you do so.

“Are you okay?” you question, eyeing him up and down. Iwaizumi is sure he could get lost in your beautiful eyes that are currently filled with concern. You know him too well, he thinks, as you give him a knowing look. It was still difficult for him to open up about things, especially small things that had bothered him throughout the day. There wasn't a real reason to talk about all the irritating parts of the day because he knows he can handle them himself, or so he claims.

“Y/n, it’s nothing,” he reassures, kissing your nose in an attempt to further prove he’s not bothered. “It was just a very long day, but now I’m back here with you and I couldn’t be happier.” His smooth talking makes it impossible for you to stay mad, but you surely try.

“Alright, well, you know you can talk about it even if it’s ‘nothing.’ In the meantime, stay here and watch the food for a moment while I run you a bath.” Iwaizumi is quick to object, but you’ve already sauntered out of the room and he can hear the faint sound of running water.

It truly did feel nice to be taken care of, he thinks fleetingly as he sinks into the warm water, but it's difficult for him to fully relax when he can hear you bustling around the kitchen. He waits in the bath for a little longer so that you won't bite his head off for how quick he was before changing into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt. The sounds of you beginning to set the table echoes down the hallway and he finds himself hoping you'll at least let him help with that.

“You lasted longer in there than I thought," you tease as your boyfriend appears back at your side. "Now go sit down." He opens his mouth to argue, but one look and he finds himself moving towards the table, wondering why you were so intent on doing everything.

“At least let me do the dishes,” he practically pleads, watching you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude as you bring the warm food over to the table.

“Or, hear me out, we leave the dishes to deal with tomorrow and spend the rest of the night watching movies cuddled up on the couch." He narrows his eyes as he searches through his brain, trying to remember if he'd forgotten an anniversary or birthday because he surely didn't feel as if he deserved this.

As if reading his mind once again you reach out and hold his hand, gently rubbing your thumb in circles against his skin.

"Can't you just let me take care of you? You're constantly going above and beyond for me, so I just thought I'd try and return the favor." Iwaizumi feels his face heat up as you place a kiss against his knuckles like he always does to you. It did feel nice, but he enjoys taking care of you. He never even thinks twice about it.

"Alright, alright. In that case, you can do the dishes tonight and maybe also get some desert." He can feel your eyes boring into him as if to say, 'Don't push it.' A smile breaks out on his face as he begins digging into the meal you prepared, peppering you with compliments until his plate is clean.

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 25

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +3.5k

Chapter warnings: smut, (unprotected p in v), a bit of mutual masturbation, a lot of exposition lol, brief mention of drugs

A/N: This chapter is set after season three. // So, last chapter my dudes; im so happy but sad that the main series is ending but so satisfied of everything we’ve done together, i have a fuckton of people to be grateful for but honestly i rather do that in private. I just wanna say that im so happy for the attention this fic has gotten and im so grateful for everyone that has read, liked, commented and reblogged this piece of my heart; i owe you <3. And its not the end of this universe, we’re still gonna see slices of Flor and Javi along the years after this story. I love them and i love you.

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous //

gif: @pescopadral

A big breath of air left your lungs and the already known sinking of the light that woke you up almost every morning made your brain half conscious; Summer sunrises in Texas made you open your eyes earlier than you wanted, you didn’t know if it had something to do with the position of the house, that the sun entered the room through the beige sheer curtains and nagged at your eyelids as if it was eager for you to see it or the overall fact that you weren’t able to sleep with light.

You whined softly when you opened your eyes and covered them with your forearm as the amount of light that hit your face directly hurt you; you had been living in that town and waking up in that bed for almost a year and you couldn’t seem to get used to the amount of light that entered the rooms almost all day.

You opened your eyes slowly and rubbed the sleep off them, making a mental note to buy another sleeping mask whenever you went downtown, as Pepe had destroyed the one you had.

You stretched on the bed and let your arms drop to the sides, your right arm falling on a warm lump that let out a muffled groan at the hit.

“Mornin’.” you muttered, shifting to your side, putting a hand under the pillow to face him, he was on his belly, hands under his pillow, his eyes were closed but you knew he was already awake. A small smile grew on your face at his half asleep face and the messy case of wavy bed hair he so easily pulled off.

“No.” he mumbled in that hoarse voice of his you only got to hear in the mornings and shoved his face in the pillow, you bit your lip and eyed the bit of the skin of his back you could see before the sheet that covered both your bodies began.

“Javi, I’m hungry.” you whispered, reaching to his naked shoulder and sliding your hand to his nape, he sighed.

“Go to my dad’s,” he mumbled, the pillow muffling his voice, “today he’s making pancakes.” you snorted at him, your fingers scratched at his nape and you shifted to get closer to him.

“I’m not walking to his house to steal his food, Javier,” you chastised him in a low voice and left a small kiss on his shoulder. “and I have a different kind of hunger.” you murmured on the skin of his arm.

Javier lifted his face out of the pillow just enough for you to see his grin, he raised an eyebrow and you nodded once.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” he said, making you chuckle, he slid off his hand from under the pillow and reached out for you, shifting on the bed to lie on his side, you stirred closer to him and cupped his face to take his lips on a kiss.

“What an excellent way to go.” you teased against his lips, Javier chuckled and licked your bottom lip to nibble at it between his, his hand slid to your naked back and his warm fingers made their way to the bottom of it, the sheet going down with them, leaving your top half uncovered and at his mercy.

Javier’s kisses traveled down to your jaw and your neck, leaving sloppy nibbles at the skin and he smiled at the smell of your body; a mix of your coconut soap, laundry detergent from the bedding and his cologne, that had a habit of clinging to you since the first day you slept next to him on your house.

One of your hands wrapped around his neck and you brought him closer to you, your breasts brushing the skin of his chest and you shivered when your nipples hardened because of the contact, your other hand sneaked from his shoulder to his chest, all the way down his tummy and then to his half-hardened cock; Javier shivered slightly when you took him in your hand and started giving him lazy strokes to get him ready for you.

Javier sighed and the warm air that left his mouth collided against the wet skin of your neck and a wave of arousal came out of your core and slid slowly to your naked thighs; he moved his hand from your back to your thigh and down to your mound, brushing his fingertips softly on your covered clit until you folded one leg and opened up for him, his fingers found your slick escaping out of you and he eased his index and middle finger inside you, making you gasp.

“You’re always so wet.” he whispered against your skin and his tongue tasted the essence of your flesh as his fingers curled inside you, hitting several times that spongy part of you that made your legs tremble, your hand gripped his cock at the sudden shock of his pressure inside you and the hand that was keeping him close to you moved to his shoulder, and you pushed him to lie down on his back, his fingers sliding out of you and the hand on his cock never leaving him; you loved to feel him grow in your hand, only for you.

The sheet that covered you when you were sleeping was slowly kicked down the bed as you rouse from your side of the bed and straddled him, one knee on each side of his hips; his hands clasped immediately with yours, one dry and one wet with your arousal and you leaned down to cup his face with both hands and take his lips again with your own, his thumbs were making small circles around the skin of your hips and he moaned softly when you bit his lower lip.

“Get inside.” you whispered against his mouth and one of his hands left your body to grip his length, you lifted your hips and he played the tip of his cock on your wet slit, making you shiver when he made it press on your already swollen clit and found his way into you.

You sat on him slowly and you both sighed in relief once he was fully inside you; you slid your hands from his face to his chest and circled your hips slowly, Javier brought his hand to your jaw and pulled you to him, kissing you again and trying to let you know with his lips how much he needed you.

His hand helped you move on top of him as you started a tantalizing rhythm that was making you both gasp on each other's mouth, you smelled his morning breath and let out a soft chuckle at yourself; you didn’t mind it one bit.

“What?” he whispered when he heard you, moving his hand to your hips to help you circle faster.

“I like you very much.” you replied, he smirked in response and leaned up to give you a soft kiss; you slid your hands to his sides and under him, wrapping them around and gripping his shoulders to gain leverage and start moving on top of him, Javier moaned when your started bouncing your hips on him making his cock slide in and out almost entirely and his tip was already grazing at that soft spot inside you that made you whine his name.

“Fuck, baby.” Javier gasped when you hid your face inside his neck, moaning his name, he tightened the grip on your hips and folded his legs, planting his feet on the bed and meeting your movements half way, you gasped at the already known brushing of his cock with your g-spot and smiled when he made you stop your bouncing to pound into you.

“Fu–‌fuck, Javi jus–‌just like that.” you whispered in his ear and he let out a soft grunt when you clenched your walls around him, almost strangling him inside. Javier slid one hand to your upper back and pressed you tighter on his body, his lips and mustache brushing the skin of your shoulder as he and his thrust and the graze of his pubic hair on your clit brought you to pleasure.

You whined his name a couple more times as his warm breath on your skin along with his cock inside you helped build that knot in your lower belly; he started panting and you knew he was close to burst inside of you; so you moved your hand slowly towards the union of your bodies and started circling your clit at the rhythm of his thrusts; you started panting as well at the same time as him and you felt your orgasm come softly, your toes curled and your breath hitched as the knot inside your belly released at once and Javier drove into you a few more times, he moaned when you shoved your slick covered fingers on his mouth, and he sucked, the taste of you and him mixed made him cum and fill your pussy with that warmness of his you really loved feeling spread in and escape out.

“Oh, god,” you panted out, he let out a spent chuckle and hummed, agreeing with you, you tilted your head to his shoulder and kissed the warm skin “I love you.”

Your low voice against his skin made him smile and his hands started drawing shapeless patterns on the skin of your back and hips, he moved his face to your cheek and licked a thin stripe of sweat that ran from your ear to your jaw.

“I love you more.” he muttered.

“I wanna pee.” you said after a few seconds of panting and recovering from your own orgasms, Javier chuckled and disentangled his arms and legs from you.

“Now I’m hungry.” he let out after another spent sigh, making you laugh.

After a cold, shared shower and Javier trying to get inside you again but failing because of his stomach growling in need of food, a packed breakfast courtesy of your non-husband insisting on going to his dad’s and eat the pancakes he made and your usual hour of catching up with the news, Javier brought the truck to the entrance of the house and between the both of you packed the bed with a small cooler and some blankets.

Pepe was walking next to you, and Javier huffed at the dog when he licked your hand after you had offered him an ice cube from the cooler..

“Y’know…” you let out, patting the black dog’s head with your wet, icy hand, “the only thing I miss about Colombia is the weather.” Javier snorted.

“Yeah,” he replied, shoving Pepe to the side softly to close the truck’s bed’s lid “I had forgotten how hot Texas can be.”

“Where are you two chamacos going?” Chucho’s voice came from behind and both of you turned around at the same time, seeing him on his horse, with the hat you gifted him for Christmas perched on his head, Chucho smiled at the mirrored gesture you two made and you smiled at him with a hand on your forehead to cover your eyes from the sun.

“For a ride, pop.” Javier replied, putting his tinted sunglasses on. Chucho hummed in affirmation.

“Check the paddock’s fence while you’re there.” he let out and you smirked at him.

He knew exactly where you were going; he knew both of you like the palm of his hand, surprisingly to you he had learned to read you so well in so little time and while you appreciated it, it was also somewhat exasperating, but you loved him as if he were your own father already, so there was nothing you wanted to do to stop him.

Chucho had modified a saying after you and Javier’s escapades to the piece of land that adjoined with the Río Bravo, saying that it fit you two best; you can take the agents out of the DEA, but you can’t take the DEA out of the agents.

“¿Van a venir a comer?” (are you coming for lunch?) he asked, whistling at Pepe so the dog turned to him.

“Yeah, pero usted no haga nada,” (you don’t do anything) you replied, eyeing Javier over the corner of your eyes “Javi’s cooking.” you let out, making the old man chuckle.

“So we’re not eating.” he let out and you shared a laugh, Javier frowned and took off his sunglasses.

“No hablen de mí como si no estuviera,” (don’t talk about me like I’m not here) he said in a growl “stop ganging up on me.” you let out a loud laugh when he turned around to walk to the driver’s door and hop in the truck and you raised your eyebrows at Chucho.

“Don’t be late, Florecita,” he said, guiding the horse to the side “vente Pepe.” he called out to the dog and he followed the horse as Chucho led it to the opposite side of the land, to the stockyard.

You turned around as well, Javier had opened the door for you from the inside and you hoped in, he turned on the ignition as you closed the door and started driving to the farthest part of the ranch; the ride to the south part was quiet and quick, Javier didn’t say much and the comfortable silence filled the cabin until he parked the truck in the middle of the paddock.

“Oh, I lied just now.” you said while opening the door and getting out of the truck.

“What?” Javier frowned a bit because of the sun and you walked parallelly to him towards the back of the truck.

“There’s another thing I miss about Colombia.” you let out as he walked to the edge’s fence and tugged at two of the posts before walking back towards you.

“What’s that?” he asked, taking off his sunglasses and hanging them from his shirt.

“Real arepas.” you let out, Javier chuckled and reached for you, his hand found its spot on your waist and he pulled you to him, leaving a kiss on your cheekbone.

“I finished another chapter last night.” he whispered against your skin before stepping away and pulling down the truck’s bed’s door.

You raised your eyebrows at him, he was writing a lot for the book you and Connie had suggested him and Steve should write, just to help process everything they lived while in Colombia.

“Is that why you came to bed so late?” you asked, reaching for one of the blankets you had packed and unfolding it to spread it on the open door, Javier hummed in affirmation.

“Want you to read it before I send it to Steve.” he said, grabbing your hips and helping you sit on the truck, stepping closer while you opened your legs for him to stand between them and wrap his hands around your waist.

“Why?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him even closer, he smirked.

“Just because.” he replied and shrugged softly, making you huff a silent laugh at him as you leaned towards his face and took his lips in yours; Javier hummed at the soft, dry contact of your lips with his and fisted the fabric of your shirt. You knew how hard it was being for him to remember all the things that happened down there, so sometimes he would end up with huge chunks of information missing that then he’d have to fix, so he was using you as his proofreader and you were more than happy to help, learning in depth things he didn’t dare to say out loud.

He opened his mouth after you brushed his lower lip with your tongue and you invaded him, tasting the minty flavor of the toothpaste.

He broke the kiss and you moved one of your hands to scratch at the short hair on his nape, Javier sighed softly and you took in his features; he looked like the man you had fallen in love, his deep, brown, expressive eyes were the same, his lips were too, the aquiline nose that you loved to kiss hadn't changed but you knew he was a slightly different man than the one you had met almost two years before in a foreign country.

That man was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders; traumatized and tired, his own spirit was hanging from a thin thread that was so tense it threatened with snapping at the smallest blow of the wind. But the man standing in front of you wasn’t that man, you could see some glimpses of his old self behind his eyes or when the day had been long; after all, years of being that Javier Peña had clung to him and became a custom; but he was fading into his own self, you were slowly meeting the man he was and the man he wanted to be, and you couldn’t be more in love with him.

Your hands brushed his brown waves and you smiled at him.

“You’re really pretty.” you muttered to him, Javier huffed and gazed at you.

“Am I?” he teased, you nodded twice.

“Very,” he caught when you whispered, “and handsome, too,” he let himself smile at your compliment, “and sometimes you’re funny.” you added and he huffed a laugh before closing the short distance between your faces.

The fact that he could have you so close to him, available to touch and kiss and hug and wrap his arms around made Javier feel like he couldn’t ask for anything else; he still didn’t think he deserved it, but he had learned to be selfish and to appreciate what he had in you and with you. Even if the feelings of what happened with you still hid inside his body when he saw you in your hardest days, even if his brain still whispered to him you would do the same if the opportunity came; he knew you better.

He had seen you stripe yourself naked to him and he had helped you rebuild yourself slowly.

He still was. As were you with him.

Javier knew who he was with and knew your strengths and your weaknesses, he had learned slowly to read you as you read him and he understood that your past, as hard as it was, was the thing that led you to him.

He would run through the same fire again if that meant he would have the chance to wake up next to you for as long as you two wanted. And he wanted to do it for the rest of his life.

You frowned when he broke the kiss.

“Are these gray hairs? you said in a feigned gasp, he rolled his eyes and smirked at you.

“Well, I’m old.” he obviated, stepping away from you and reaching for the cooler, dragging it closer.

“I don’t think you’re that old.” you said, he let out a chuckle as he opened the cooler and took out two beers, handing one to you.

“You don’t say the same when I ask you to rub my back after three hours sitting on the desk.” he teased, sitting next to you, you laughed and scooted closer to him, leaning on his shoulder and opening the can of beer.

“I’m definitely buying you that lumbar pillow.” you said, he let out a wheeze and turned his head to leave a kiss on the crown of your head, he opened his beer and you sipped at yours, seeing a small boat make its way through the water. You grinned and sat straight.

“This is the same one from last week,” you muttered, he hummed in affirmation “I think it’s the first one that has the same rower.”

“Maybe they’re running out.” Javier said, drinking from his beer.

“Wonder when migration is gonna start patrolling around here.” you leaned back onto his shoulder.

“Do you think old man Peña’s gonna let them enter?” he rhetored, and you looked at him.

“You mean you or your dad?” you teased, Javier grunted playfully, “he asked me when I’m giving him a grandkid again.” you said, returning your eyes to the small boat that made its way slowly through the river, not wanting to think about kids or the lack of them.

“Ese hombre no entiende.” (that man doesn’t understand) Javier let out softly, huffing at his father’s wishes.

“Maybe we can call Steve and Connie,” you suggested, brushing the odd feeling off your mind that talking about you having kids always made you feel “they can bring the girls down and maybe ease your dad’s baby fever.” Javier snorted.

“Maybe,” he muttered, downing the rest of his beer and pointing at the river with the hand that held the empty can “there goes another one.”

“That one’s new,” you said, drinking from your can and then handing it to him, “baby.” you called him.

“Mhm.” he took the beer from your hand.

“Do you think we’re still gonna be sitting here watching drugs being smuggled into the country when we’re gray and wrinkled as raisins?” you asked him, Javier chuckled at the question.

“Yeah,” he shifted to wrap his arm around your shoulders “why?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered “maybe we need to build a porch or a gazebo around here. I can’t push you into the paddock if you’re in a wheelchair.” you teased, and Javier let out a soft cackle.

“C’mon, amor, don’t be an ass.”

←previous //

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#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #narcos #narcos netflix #narcos fanfic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal characters #rushingly bittersweet tag

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decepticon-simpathizer · 3 years

Text

hard left here but everyone needs to start being okay with being lazy and people who somehow aren’t lazy ever need to rethink what being lazy actually is

firstoval - we’re people and not work drones, we’re not meant to be completely productive every moment of every second we are awake. we had to invent an entire holiday-like event of taking ‘vacations’ to have corporate-approved time to be lazy. finding moral virtue in vacations is also classist but i’m not going into that one here

secondoval - people enjoy their free time in different ways. someone who spends the weekend going to art galleries is not somehow being more productive as a person than someone who wants to spend the weekend high off their gourd watching yu-gi-oh reruns. they are both doing something enjoyable, just one is considered a moral virtue and the other a societally moral vice, one is considered high class and the other is low class

thirdoval - being ‘lazy’ is not what you think it means. it’s not a bad thing

What do you think being lazy is like?

“I barely brush my teeth, its not that I don’t want to, I just don’t do it”

“I never clean my room, I do like it more when it’s tidy, but I can never keep up”

“the dishes sit in the sink for weeks, I hate the smell when I have to walk by”

THOSE are all examples of DEPRESSION

that’s not being lazy- we know this, we’ve talked about it extensively. but it’s never really talked about the other way around, is it? depression makes it a struggle to manage basic things- that makes the behavior of struggling to manage basic things what being depressed is. it is not what lazy is

“But I just can’t ever start my schoolwork until right before it’s due, and sometimes I just never do it at all”

“I keep meaning to go to the gym, but I can’t ever keep to a schedule”

“i enjoy writing and have so many ideas, but i rarely actually start writing any of them down”

Those are some DYSFUNCTIONING EXECUTIVES my guy

like depression up there, these are symptoms of conditions such as ADHD, depression, OCD, and stress. but it is not a symptom of lazy. if you are struggling to start tasks of things both enjoyable and not, no matter the pressure you have to do them, your executives are dysfunctioning

also:

not being able to do something because you are terrified of it is a phobia, not being lazy ie: needing to get groceries but the thought of going into the store is unbearable is agoraphobia

not being able to do anything after a disastrous major life event is shock(initial) and ptsd(later), not being lazy ie: if you were hit by a car while bicycling and needed a year to recover, getting back on a bike can feel terrifying

not physically having the hours in the day to go to work take care of your kids feed everyone AND get the laundry done is not being lazy, and still wouldn’t be lazy if you DID have a free hour and spent it in the bath because reference ‘firstoval’ and remember we are not work drones, we need personal time. orangutans need personal time, it’s not a wild concept

so then what is “being lazy”?

on the most basic level: it is wanting to spend free time doing enjoyable things that are considered low-class and a societally moral vice

but it usually also manifests with:

being willing to do a ton of work upfront in order to not have to do shit later

buying from a wholeseller for bulk essentials in order to not have to go shopping as frequently

getting up at 5 am to use the building laundry room without having to have extra wait time because of other people using the room

doing your homework while class is still going on so it’ll already be done when you get home

OKAY so what did we learn today:

struggling to take care of ourselves = depression

struggling to keep on tasks = executive dysfunction

preferring low-class low-energy activities= lazy

#lazy #depression #executive dysfunction #im trying to think of a way to say i miss doing school essays without sounding like a massive nerd but i cant #if you found yourself thinking that is a morally virtuous desire then you need to reread this post #anyways back to the robot memes

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copiouscouples · 3 years

Text

Foiled Revenge

Prompt: Rio comes back 7 months after Beth shot him to seek his revenge only to stumble upon a surprise…

Rio watched as Ruby backed out of Beth’s driveway and zoomed down the street. He’d arrived earlier this morning, but the house had been a flurry of activity. He hadn’t seen Beth but he’d watched as Annie and Ruby helped get all four of their friend’s children ready for school.

He’d thought about busting in. He didn’t really care if he scared the other women, but he didn’t like making scenes with kids around. He’d done a lot of things, but shooting a mom in front of her children wasn’t one of them.

So he’d sat and waited for the past two hours. He was mildly curious why Beth wasn’t taking her kids to school herself. Maybe she didn’t feel good. Well, she’d be forever pain-free soon enough.

Grabbing his gun from the safe in his car, he tucked it in his waistband and jogged across the street.

Taking the key to her house that he’d long ago made a copy of. He entered through the back kitchen door. The scene in front of him shocked him a little. Beth was meticulous. Even with four kids, she always made sure the house was clean and everything put away. Something must have happened in the seven months since he’d seen her because it looked like a tornado had hit the place. Dirty dishes were crammed into the sink and overflowing onto the counter. Toys and baskets of laundry were all over the place.

Despite the chaotic mess, there was a silence. There was no sounds of movement in the laundry room, no footsteps from upstairs, no sound of water running from the bathroom. She was here, wasn’t she? Her car was outside. Maybe she was sleeping.

He quietly headed down the hall to the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. Gently pushing the door aside, he slid into the room and turned his eyes to the bed that he’d once lain in with her.

On it lay a sound asleep Beth. He’d seen her sleep before but never quite as deeply. Maybe it was all those kids she had. Maybe she had to be a light sleeper just in case something happened. But right now, she was conked out.

This wasn’t how he planned on taking her out. He felt the weight of the three bullets in the pocket of his jeans. He wanted to have it all out with her. Find out why she shot him instead of Turner before he ended her life for good. Their working relationship was over. There was no way he could trust her and he knew she’d try to lie and wheedle her way out of it, but he wouldn’t let her. Not this time. She had to learn that her actions had consequences.

Just as he was about to reach out his hand to jostle her awake, he heard a soft mewling sound. His eyes darted around the room until they settled on a small body inside a bassinet on the other side of the bed.

His heart rate immediately sky rocketed and he involuntarily swallowed as his feet of their own accord dragged him across the room and to the side of the bassinet where a very tiny and very fragile human being lay.

Someone had placed a headband with a large pink rose on it around her head as if to shout “She’s a girl!” It looked silly more than anything else. Reaching down, he carefully removed the headband from the recently born infant. She couldn’t be more than a week or two old. His fingers caressed the black curls and his heart stopped as her eyes opened and hers were as mocha as his own.

Reaching down, he gently scooped her up. For a full minute, they both just stared at each other. The baby girl looked quizzingly at him as if to ask “Who are you?”

He padded quietly out of the bedroom and into the living room to spend some one on one time with his little girl.

He shook his head. Elizabeth had figured out how to wheedle her way out of consequences after all.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beth woke up and immediately winced with pain. She gently pressed against the bandage on her lower abdomen. Words couldn’t express how grateful she was to her sister and Ruby for helping her out with the other kids while she was recovering from her c-section and learning how to single parent a newborn infant. Dean and her co-parented her other four kids. She had them Monday - Thursday while he had them over the weekends.

But there was no one to co-parent Gabriela with. Her father was gone. She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to stem the rush of guilt she felt. She was the reason her daughter would never know her father.

Turning her head, she looked towards the bassinet to check if Gabi was still sleeping. She was a little shocked to see that her baby wasn’t there. She’d encouraged Ruby and Annie to go home. That she’d be fine since it was Dean’s night to have the kids. She could handle reheating leftovers and taking care of Gabi on her own. But they must not have believed her and come back to help.

Getting out of bed slowly, she gingerly hobbled towards the living room. “Ruby? Annie? Is Gabi doing OK? Is she hungry?”

“She’s alright, ma. We’re just sittin’ here chillin’.”

Eyes widening in shock at the sight of the man she thought she’d murdered, Beth let out a small scream. “P-please don’t hurt her. Please give me my baby,” she said as she stumbled her way towards him, ignoring the searing pain in her abdomen.

“She don’t look much like Dean.”

Tears streamed down Beth’s face as she reached towards him, imploring him. “She’s yours. OK. Is that what you wanted to hear? Now, please. Please give her to me.”

Rio stood up and walked to the island and easily hopped up to sit on top of the counter. He shook his head and tsked. “We got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

#nbc good girls #good girls nbc #brio #beth boland #rio #brio fanfic

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yungbud · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment+X

Req? Yes! @madonnasinn said: Can you write a smut about Dom ignoring y/n over a petty fight they had a few days ago, and y/n parades in a very tiny skirt around him when they go out to have dinner with his friends (to get his attention). He then gets really mad because all the guys keep eyeing her, which she knows he hates so she tempts him and fuck in the restaurant bathroom 🤭 just a lil idea i had LOL

Word Count: 2.4K

Tw:Light choking, semi-public sex acts, a little bit of thigh spanking/smacking, idk smut obviously.

A/N: Feast

—

You sat in the kitchen with Dom. Well, Dom sat, you stood, washing the dishes as he talked to you about how the album was going.

“I’ve just been so stressed for the past three fookin weeks trying to get this done. I just want it to be perfect, you know? And I keep wanting to go back and tweak it but Gav tells me not to.” Dom ranted, absentmindedly picking at his nailpolish while he did.

You reached for the knob of the faucet, turning the water on to rinse off the dish in your hand, accidentally turning it too high and ending up being splashed with water, soaking the bottom half of your shirt.

That reminded you, tomorrow you had to do the laundry, then clean Dom and your shared room, then you’d have to shower– No, that wouldn’t work. You’d have to shower then do laundry before you leave, or else you’d end up being late for your appointment.

God, these last few weeks had just been so stressful. You felt like you barely had a chance to breathe, you’d finish one thing and up would pop the next. Oh, and you couldn’t forget lunch right after your appointment. You hoped there wouldn’t be traffic, you can’t be late because (Y/B/F) would only be visiting you on their lunch break, they’d have to go back to work straight after.

Who were you kidding, it’s LA, of course there’d be traffic.

Should you reschedule? You were both so busy as is and this was the one time your schedules had allowed you to meet up in what must’ve been months.

Shit, you thought, how long had it been? You began replaying the last few months in your head as you absentmindedly scrubbed at the plate in hand.

“And you’re not even listening.” Dom pouted.

“No, no I am. That’s great sweetie.”

“What’d I just say.” He tests, looking at you, his raised brow doing very little to hide the fact that he’s annoyed.

“You were talking about the uh- The uhm,” You paused, mustering all your brain cells to remember what he had just been talking about. The towel squished between your hand and the counter as you leaned against the sink, your fingers coming up to stroke the bridge of your nose as you thought “The drums, you just finished the last of it, right?”

The oven dinged, signalling the food needed tending too. Your mind flipped as you searched the kitchen for the oven mit.

Where could you have possibly put it if not right next to the oven where you could’ve sworn you left it. You spun, searching the other counters, even going as far as to look in the sink before realizing it had slid to the floor right below where you put it. Sighing, you leaned down to grab it, pulling open the oven to tend to tonight’s dinner.

“Uh, what else happened today?” You ask, trying to keep your mind on track. You were careful not to burn yourself as fussed with the food

“Shit, babe can you hand me the tongs?” You ask, reaching a hand out behind you. That’s when you realized he hadn’t responded.

“Babe?” You try again, turning around only to realize he’d already left. You scoffed, grabbing it for yourself before leaning back. Standing straight, you take a moment to bask in the warmth of the oven before closing it.

*~Three days later~*

Dom raised his head to look at you, your spoon clinking against the side of your bowl signalling your entrance of the living room. He looked back to the TV just as soon as he had looked over, obviously too invested in whatever he was watching to acknowledge your existence. A sigh of relief left your lips when your butt hit the cushions, leaning back into the inviting, cushiony supports.

“Ugh, this week has been so stressful. I feel like I haven’t had the chance to sit in like… forever.” You say, your eyes focusing on what was playing in front of you. It was an old episode of the great british bake off.

You laughed a bit, but it came off more as a hum.

“You know, I heard when contestants would cry, Mel and Sue would stand by them and use un-airable language so the footage wouldn’t make it to the final cut. Isn’t that so thoughtful?” You say, trying to perk some conversation out of the boy sitting next to you.

He wasn’t responding. Your eyebrows furrowed as you searched through anything you might’ve said to upset him recently. You couldn’t think of a single thing, come to think of it, what was the last thing you had said to him? Hell, when was it?

You realized quickly your last exchange was in the kitchen, and even that had been cut short by him leaving.

Yes, that’s right. When you had crawled in bed with him that night, he had been asleep and you were in such a rush the next morning you couldn’t remember if he was awake next to you when you woke up. He wasn’t exactly avoiding you as much as he was not talking to you.

Had he seriously been giving you the silent treatment for that long?

“Is everything okay?” You tried, sure you were only getting in your own head. Your eyes had completely left the TV at this point, focusing solely on the quiet boy next to you. There was no response, not even so much as a nod.

“You haven’t talked to me in almost a week.” You continued

“Doesn’t matter. Even if i did, you wouldn’t be listening.” Dom retorted

“I’m sorry i made you feel that way. It honestly was not my intention, i’ve just been so caught up this week.” You were sorry, but it seemed awfully ridiculous to have gone this long giving you the silent treatment just because you had been distracted.

The conversation ended entirely there.

Dom hadn’t said more than two words to you since your argument, doing everything in his power to avoid you. It wasn’t hard, after all he was a very busy man. Especially with the release of his new album coming up, there were interviews and meetings to be had, but at a certain point they became less of a responsibility and more of an excuse.

You were on twitter, you had seen his fans practically begging him to take a break, but taking a break would mean seeing you, and that just wasn’t something he had been in the mood to do recently. It was bad enough already that he had to go to dinner with you.

That was okay, you would help him get in the mood. Or, rather, out of his mood. If Dom wanted to be petty, fine, you could be petty.

You slipped the soft material up your legs, admiring your reflection in the mirror. If Dom was going to ignore you, you were going to give him something to ignore.

You knew this skirt would do the trick, every time you saw another girl or, fuck it, boy, prouncing around and one of these skirts even you nearly fucked them. Everybody looked good in these, it was a fact of life, you’d decided. You knew you definitely looked good, you almost had to stop for a moment and touch yourself to the sight, but glancing at the clock you realized you didn’t have nearly enough time for a bit of self pleasure.

You were practically already running late, spending all your time getting yourself ready to grab Dom’s attention. You added some finishing touches before heading out to the living room where Dom sat, waiting for you patiently.

Any other time Dom would’ve been right next to you in the bathroom, admiring your work on your makeup, outfit and hair, but today he stayed in the living room

You tried not to smirk as you made your way into his line of vision. The look on his face was completely worth the hours of tireless work, though. He’d turned his head to look at you, a distinct glare replaced by shock, his eyes widening a bit as they landed on your outfit. It was tight and loose in all the right places and only added to your stunning features.

“What?” You teased,

He tried to recover quickly, returning to his pouty state, not even bothering with a response as you followed him out the door.

You were sitting at the table, surrounded by you and Dom’s friends when someone finally made a comment on your appearance.

“You look really good, (Y/N).” Tom commented, everyone nodding in agreement as the conversation momentarily shifted to you.

“Thank you! I thought so.” You praise yourself, smiling down at your outfit.

The conversation drifted off again, a newfound confidence bubbling up in your chest. You reached over to Dom, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. It stayed there for a moment before he moved it, and it continued on like that. You did everything in your power to remind him of how good you looked and how short your skirt was until he motioned for you to stand. A couple eyes turned to you as you walked off, but no one asked any questions.

Dom was practically dragging you, your feet fumbling as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. When you realized where you were headed you glanced at him, eyes wide, but he wasn’t looking back. His eyes were focused on the bathroom doors ahead, his jaw clenched, gorgeous green eyes shadowed by his black eyeliner.

“Dom, what are you doing?” You began to plead, uncomfortably aware of the fact that you were about to walk into a bathroom with your boyfriend in front of the whole restaurant. You glanced around, checking for any cameras or onlooking eyes. There were none in sight, but you knew that didn’t mean much.

Your head clobbered light as he pinned you to the stall, his eyes burning into your own. Your gaze faltered, looking everywhere but him. Normally sex with Dom never made you nervous, he had always managed to make you feel safe and comfortable, but going from complete silence to being pinned against a stall in The Olive Garden so abruptly made you timid. His hand pressed down on your shoulder, your legs bending until your knees hit the tiled floor, staring up at him through your lashes. Dom hastily unbuttoned his pants, maintaining his gaze, er, glare on you. Your eyes flickered from his own to his hard dick springing from its constraints, watching as he stroked himself achingly slow before his tip slid past your lips, sliding himself across your tongue a few times, his head leaning back as he felt the warmth of your mouth surround him.

You hollowed out your cheeks, eyes remaining on his expression. When you reached up to replace his hand with your own you felt a harsh tug on your hair. It took you a moment to realize what he wanted from you, but when you realized you let your jaw go slack. Dom’s hand remained wrapped around the base of his cock, shoving it down your throat unexpectedly, causing you to gag.

Your mouth hung open, weary not to let your teeth scrape against him as he thrust into your mouth. You pulled back a bit as you gagged, your head lightly hitting against the wall behind you. Dom continued to push forward, his hard cock pushing farther and farther back in your throat. You were pinned between his thrusting hips and the bathroom stall, you had no choice but to let him fuck your throat.

Not that you were complaining.

Well, you couldn’t.

You gagged around him, hands coming up to grip at his hips as he continued to use your mouth to get himself off, angelic moans falling from his plush lips.

Dom finally took mercy on you, pulling away and grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring down at you.

“You look so pretty gagging on my dick.” He says, wiping the tear coming from your eye. His hand makes its way down to your neck, wrapping around it and pulling you to your feet.

“Or maybe it’s just that fucking skirt.” He adds, slapping your thigh before lifting the skirt up to reveal your lace underwear. A groan slips past his lips, bringing his fingers against your core. You let out a sigh of relief as his fingers rubbed against your clit, glad to finally get some relief after all this time. It was short lived, though, as he pulled you to your feet using the grip he had on your throat, tilting your head up to look at him.

The air around you seemed to freeze, your eyes roamed eachothers faces, desperate for one another. His lips came against yours slowly and then all at once, his hand remaining around your throat as his tongue slipped its way into your mouth. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat remained between your legs, working steadily at making your legs shake for him.

It was almost embarrassing how ready you were for him, so needy that the slightest touch beckoned a whine. Things became heated again quickly, his hands moving from your neck to your thighs, a quick hop before you wrapped them around his waist.

Dom reached between your legs, trying his best to move the material without dropping you, eventually giving in and letting you do it instead. Reaching between your legs, you wrapped your hand around him, lining his hard dick up with your aching core. He paused there for a moment, enjoying the feeling before pushing himself in. His lips reconnected with your own, thrusting into you a few times before sighing and setting you back to the floor. Your eyebrows furrowed up at him, unsure what to do before he was spinning your around, pinning your face against the wall. You felt him slide between your lips once more before pushing in. It took him a moment to find his rhythm, but soon you were being pounded against the bathroom stall, pathetic moans falling from both your lips, Your senses clouded by pleasure leaving you completely lost to your surroundings.

You would have to be petty more often.

#Yungblud #yungblud smut #yungblud fanfic #yungblud x reader #dominic harrison smut #dominic harrison angst #dominic harrison fanfic #dominic harrison x reader #yungblud angst #submission

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meat--grindr · 4 years

Note

I can request a story of Yandere Brahms with his reader, where Brahms kidnaps the reader by taking her inside the walls of the Mansion to be loved and protected. How did you come to this situation, maybe you can have a little NFSW?

Ahh, Brahms. How I love him so. I just wanted to let you know before we get into anything too serious, that this might be a little different than you were expecting, and for that I’m going to apologize right off the bat. I’ll admit I’m a massive weeb, but I never really saw the appeal of yanderes. Cringe, I know. So, I’m going to do my best here and take yandere more as ‘possessive’ if that’s alright? Also, I took some liberties with ‘kidnapping’ as you’ll see, just because I don’t want to walk too far into non-consensual territory when there’s NSFW involved. I don’t want to write anything explicitly non-consensual here, so it was a fine line to walk, but I think I found an okay solution. If this isn’t at all what you’re looking for, maybe drop me a PM and we can try to work something out? Anyway have like 5000-ish words of Brahms smut :)

Possessive (Yandere [?] Brahms (Female Reader) – NSFW

· Standing at the foot of the stairs, you are struck, though certainly not for the first time, by the beauty of the house in which you find yourself. The golden hue of the wood which panels the walls reflect and amplify the soft glow emanating from beneath frosted glass lampshades. The diffused amber glow is cast about the room, throwing elongated shadows against the walls and into the far corners. From your place at the very bottom of the stairwell, the ceiling, now several floors above you, is lost to the early darkness of a winter evening.

· Through the window, you can see the first soft flakes of snow drifting through the air. But here, inside, with your back braced against the newel post, you are warm. Tipping your head back, you gaze up into the yawning void above and cast your mind into it, losing yourself in daydreams of the beautiful rooms it conceals; your bedroom with its fourposter bed, all draped in velvet and silk—the dark, lacquered wood of the study, which still smells of cigar smoke, though as far as you can tell one hasn’t been lit in there for years—and, of course, the library.

· Dark shelves line the walls, so tall they stretch from the wooden floor to the moulded ceiling. They stand, filled nearly past capacity with volumes of every shape and size, from encyclopedias so large you can lift only one at a time, to pocket novellas no bigger than your palm. Pages and spines alike, embossed with gold and silver shimmer from both the shelves and the tables set beside each of the overstuffed armchairs. The plush rug which lies beneath those tables and chairs makes even the floor a comfortable place to stretch out and lose oneself in a book. And the smell. Old leather and paper, printing ink and glue, dust and the very passage of time itself. It’s like every crooked old bookstore you’ve ever entered tucked away in a cozy corner of your own home. Whether or not you remember having dreamt of owning a private library, you were quite sure you could never go back to life without one and find yourself contented.

· Even now, you long to curl up in one of those plush chairs and sink into another world until bedtime. You knew a soft blanket and a half-finished novel waited for you there, begging you to come back and see to them. And why shouldn’t you? What else was there to do on a chilly night such as this? The day’s chores were completed—the rat traps were checked (empty as always), the laundry was done, wood for the fire was stacked in the shed, and the supper dishes had been washed and put away. There is very little else that requires your attention. So why not?

· Your socked feet sink into the plush, green carpeting as you mount the stairs. The banister is pleasantly cool and smooth beneath your fingertips. As you ascend, the light from below begins to dim, unable to reach any further into the darkness above. The difference made by the two flights of stairs between the lighted foyer and the dark second floor leaves you light-blinded and blinking in the shadows.

· When again you regain your sight enough to behold it, even in partial darkness, the hallway that stretches before you is beautiful—the wooden paneling on the lower half of the walls takes on a sleek shine, while the deep green wallpaper above it fades into a stately and sober black. The paintings and portraits that line the walls are somber; muted without the proper lighting to show their colours, but they are no less impressive or imposing. A ship, barely visible, save for the canvas sails, is tossed on a rapidly darkening sea, lighting flashing far in the distance—a bright brushstroke of pure white, clear even in deep shadow. An old woman, her name rendered illegible in the gloom, stares down her nose at you in deep disapproval. Her eyes, like the rest of her, are severe and grey, and they seem, through either a trick of the light or the mastery of the painter, to follow you down the hall.

· It is very dark. A thin, watery light filters through a small window at the end of the hall, but it does little to help guide you. You suppose you could turn on one of the many lamps that line the long and ponderous hall, but you know you can find your way just find without one. You’d spent several adventurous afternoons and many restless nights exploring the house and grounds. Though in the beginning you could barely follow the straight hall from the front door to the kitchen without getting lost, these days, you rarely, if ever, found yourself wandering the halls with no idea where you were.

· You reach out, brushing the wallpaper with the tips of your fingers as you walk, grounding yourself in the darkness. It’s almost rough to the touch, stiff with age, though it’s clearly been well taken care of. In the daylight, there is little sign of aging at all - no scuffs or faded sections. You knew the house itself was well over a hundred years old, but it showed its age in astonishingly few places. Sure, the phones were ancient and the lack of wi-fi was irritating but—

· Thump.

· You freeze in place. You’re sure the sound had come from within the wall, just to the left of where you stood. There is something in there. The blood roars in your ear as you press it up against the wallpaper, straining to hear even a hint of movement, be it the shifting of the wood as the house settles, or the pitter-patter of something living. The seconds stretch on into minutes, but no further sounds come. You scrunch up your nose, feeling rather silly. It’s probably just a mouse…or maybe a rat. It sounded big. Perhaps those traps were good for something after all.

· Your gaze lingers on the spot for a moment longer, but still, there is nothing but silence. Maybe it had been the house creaking in the wind. Old houses were prone to groaning after all. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to move some of the traps further up into the house for a little bit, just to be on the safe side.

· You turn and continue down the hall, mind once again turning to the blanket, the book, and the comfy glow of the library. You press your palm flat against the wall as you walk, the whisper of your skin sliding over the wallpaper barely audible, even in the quiet that envelops the house at night.

· Then your fingers catch against something—an indentation in the wallpaper. It’s subtle, but definitely there. You stop to inspect it closer, worried that perhaps your assessment about the house not showing its age may have come a little hastily. Your fingers explore the seam with care, and you decide it’s not a crack—it’s too regular, too straight. It feels intentional in its design. And it’s practically invisible in the darkness—likely just as difficult to spot in daylight considering how frequently you find yourself in this hall and your failure to take notice of it before now.

· You crouch down, following the seam with your fingers. It stretches all the way down to the floor. Why…it’s almost like…a little door…

· Almost at the same moment this thought trickles into your mind, the little section of wall gives way beneath your touch, swinging inward on silent hinges.

· From within the inky darkness beyond, a pair of long, thin arms surge forth, snaking around your waist. The grip in which they envelop you is bruising as you are pulled back into the darkness beyond the secret door.

· It slams behind you hard enough to rattle the picture frames in the hall. You scream, long and hard, struggling against the arms that cage you. You flail your limbs, lashing out blindly with fists and feet and nails, hoping desperately to strike your attacker, or at least wriggle enough to squirm from their crushing grasp. But the grip around your midsection only tightens, squeezing the very air from your lungs.

· You lurch into motion, the figure in the darkness half-carrying, half-dragging you along a narrow passageway. You try to scream again but find you can’t get enough air to do so. Instead, you lash out, legs kicking against the walls, knees and shins colliding painfully with rough, wooden support beams and sharp corners.

· While rounding a particularly tight corner, you manage to kick the opposite wall hard enough to throw your attacker off balance. A hissing shower of dust and plaster rains down on the pair of you. The figure stumbles, grip relaxing for only a moment, but it’s enough. You wriggle from their crushing grasp and dart back the way you came.

· The figure recovers quickly, and you can hear them bolting after you in the darkness. It doesn’t take long before they’re on you again, one large hand fisted deep in your hair, wrenching your head back. You cry out in pain, stumbling back against the intruder. The hand in your hair doesn’t relinquish it’s hold as their other arm wraps around your chest, locking in place like an iron bar. You struggle uselessly, hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you’re dragged back the way you’d come, seemingly with even less regard for your physical well-being.

· Not far beyond the corner where you’d made your escape, you’re shoved to the ground unceremoniously. As you make to crawl away, the figure circles around you, blocking your path of escape. Even as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can’t see much more than an outline. Even so, you can tell they’re much bigger than you. You feel a large hand sliding beneath your knees, and another on the small of your back and suddenly, the floor beneath you drops away. Instinctively, your arms shoot out, fumbling in the darkness for something solid to grab hold of. Your grasping hands find a fist-full of the intruder’s shirt. It’s soft and well-worn in your hands, and you clutch so tightly to it that you can feel your fingers beginning to cramp almost immediately. A soft rumble rolls through the figure, and after a moment, you realize they’re laughing at you. You want to let go, but the fear of tumbling backward into the darkness stills your hands.

· With the way you’re being jostled about, you get the distinct impression that you’re ascending a flight of stairs. Secret tunnels and staircases in the walls? Under any other circumstance, you would be ecstatic, ready to drop everything and explore them. But caught as you were, in the arms of a stranger, there is nothing but panic within you. Taking advantage of your new position, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the intention to scream, though you’re sure there’s no one around to hear you.

· “Don’t.” So, it’s a man? His voice is soft, a half-whisper that thrums through your body where it’s pressed up against his chest. There is a distinctly British tilt to his voice, and it’s oddly muffled, as though something was covering his mouth. You’re reminded of those old cartoon bandits who wore bandanas across their mouths. He doesn’t want to be identified. The though sends a cold chill through you. This isn’t good. “Scream and I’ll drop you.”

· The scream dies in your throat. While you certainly don’t like being caught in a strange man’s grip, the thought of lying broken at the bottom of a secret staircase no one else seems to know about hammers a worse kind of fear into your gut. You could die…or not and that might be the worse option: injured and completely at a stranger’s mercy. No. As it stands, if you follow his instructions, you remain unharmed, and the longer you remain unharmed, the better your chances of finding a way out.

· At the top of the steps, you find yourself in front of a rough wooden door. Here he readjusts his grip on you, bracing your weight against his hips as he taps the door open with a gentle kick.

· Suddenly, you’re bathed in a soft, golden light cast by the dozens of candles that lay scattered about the room. After so much time spent in the dark, the burst of light dazzles your eyes. In spite of your fear, you curl up against the strange man’s chest, turning away from the light that blinds and burns your eyes. It’s too much too soon.

· The man laughs again, bouncing you gently in his arms, like one would a small child, “No hiding.”

· His tone is light, but it is still a command. Sensing scant room for disobedience, you turn your face up towards his, cracking one eye open, then the other. You had been told not to, but in the flickering light, as you blink up at the face of your kidnapper, you can do nothing to stop the scream that builds in your throat.

· His face is hidden, not behind a bandana, but a porcelain mask. The pale white surface is littered with a spider’s web of thin cracks and what looks to be dried blood. Your eyes sweep over the soft curve of the mouth, the delicate nose which turns up at the end, and the empty spaces behind which dark, human eyes burn into your own.

· The moment the scream leaves you, ringing loud in the enclosed space, the man snarls, striding into the room with purpose. As he weaves through the maze of dusty old furniture, you beat your fists against his chest, squirming in his grip, trying with renewed desperation to escape his clutches. “Let me go! Let me go!!”

· Ignoring your pleas, he stalks to the far corner of the room, where a low-slung cot waits, tucked close against a rough brick wall. He dumps you none too gently onto it, and you scrabble backward, knocking your head against the wall behind you. Your ears ring with the force of the blow, but your eyes remain trained on the masked man as he clambers onto the cot with you.

· You jam yourself back into the corner, as far from the menacing figure as possible. He comes toward you slowly, laughing, as though this were all some silly game the pair of you were enjoying. You kick at him, and he swats your leg away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. His eyes, however, aren’t laughing. Where they peak out from beneath the mask, they blaze with only one thing: hunger.

· You kick out at him again, catching him, this time, on the jaw, just beneath the edge of his mask. And just like that he’s not laughing anymore. He goes frighteningly still, and there’s a change in the air. You know he’s done playing.

· He lunges for you, and you shriek, cowering back against the wall, the rough bricks digging into the flesh of your arms. His hands close around your ankles and he pulls you down toward him.

· He slots himself between your legs, pinning your thighs down with boney knees. You squirm beneath him, but he’s too heavy for you to shake off. He looms above you in the candlelight, breathing hard, his eyes flashing behind the mask. With a jolt, you realize he’s going to hurt you. You’re so sure, you flinch, cringing away from him as much as is possible, bracing for the pain that’s sure to come.

· But, when his knuckles brush against your cheek, it’s not in anger. It’s a gentle caress that jolts through you like an electric current. You turn to look at him, as he brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. He stares at you for a long moment, drinking in your shock, before leaning down to press cool porcelain lips against yours.

· The kindness of his gestures surprises you almost more than any blow he could have delivered. When he promised to play rough, he usually meant it. With shaking hands, you reach up to touch his face. Your fingers slip beneath the mask, brushing the hair and skin beneath with feather-light touches. You want to see his face, want kisses from his real lips, want—

· But the man’s fingers curl around your wrists, wrenching your hands from his face. “No.” There is force behind the word equal to the force with which he pins your wrists against the sheets, indenting the mattress beneath them. His voice, in that same soft whisper from before, rasps in your ear, “Not even when we’re playing, Love.”

· You swallow hard, all the pretenses of your little experiment dropping away in an instant. You realize you came dangerously close to crossing a line. “Okay. Brahms. I-I’m sorry.”

· You expect that he’ll want to stop now, and you wouldn’t blame him if he did, but he surprises you by nuzzling against your neck, “Not ‘Brahms.’”

· So, he still wants to play. You smile up at him. “Oh, right! Sorry.”

· He bends over your neck again, pressing porcelain kisses against your neck. You crane your head back, eager to make up for your misstep with the mask. There’s something about these kisses that makes your heart flutter—perhaps it’s simply the rush of a new sensation against sensitive flesh, or maybe it’s the knowledge that his real lips lay just beneath that hard surface, so close and yet completely out of reach.

· When he lets go of your left wrist, you’re so caught up in these kisses, that you barely register it. That is until you feel the mask slide in an unnatural direction against your skin, and you feel Brahms’ real lips against your neck for the first time. Your whole body jerks forward, pressing against him with a soft sigh on your lips. His mouth is softer and warmer than you ever could have imagined. Even his beard feels good where it scratches against you.

· His teeth scrape over your pulse, drawing another sound from you. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him down on top of you. His laugh rasps out against your throat, as he stamps warm kisses all across your collarbone.

· You roll your hips against his and he groans, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. He surges upward fixing his teeth into the meat of your neck as he grinds down against you, letting you feel just how badly he wants you. His name slips between your teeth as a hiss and you feel him smile against your neck. His tongue flickers over the mark he’s left, though it’s more to lay further claim than to soothe the ache his teeth pushed into your flesh.

· When he pulls back, he’s already pushing the mask back into place, though you catch a quick flash of the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth.

· He looks down at you, eyes sliding slow down your body, head cocked to the side like he’s thinking. He has that hungry look about him again and it lights a white-hot bolt of desire in your gut. You lift your hips, rolling them against his, relishing both the spark of pleasure that shoots through your stomach, and the shiver that rolls down his spine. A little whine escapes his lips, and you feel your heart leap. God, you’d do anything to hear that sound again. He meets the roll of your body with a stuttering jolt of his own.

· You can’t help but beam up at him. “What are you thinking about Brah—Mister?”

· He sighs deeply, running his hands down your chest, his fingers tracing along your ribs. “About all the things I could do to you…”

· A breathless puff of laughter escapes you, “Oh, yeah?” You guide his hands down to your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint. “Like what?”

· “Hm…let’s see. I could, hold you down,” His hands, still resting beneath yours tighten against your hips, pushing you down against the mattress. You try to buck up against him, but he holds you fast, “I don’t think so, Love.” He grips you hard, dipping his head to whisper into your ear, “I could just hold you here, and you’d have to take whatever I decide to give you.” His thumbs trace the seams of your hips. Even through your jeans it makes you shudder.

· “Or, I could give you very little at all,” He lets go of your hips in favour of ghosting a hand down your thigh. His other hand presses gently against your zipper. His fingers trail down the seam, until you feel the pressure against your clit and jerk against his hand. He pulls away, “Just enough to keep you interested, but not enough to satisfy you.”

· You whine, feeling a damp patch growing in your underwear. You know he’d get such a charge from dragging this out, teasing you until your arousal had soaked through the denim of your jeans. You could hear him now, ‘A few kisses and some dirty words…it’s that easy?' While you’d usually be willing to indulge him, you weren’t willing to give him that satisfaction today. He was already so uppity as it was. “Or you could just toss my legs over your shoulders and take what you want.” You toss an arm over your forehead in an attempt at playing toward his flair for the dramatic, “Look at me, baby. I’m defenseless.” You roll your hips against him again, nice and slow. You can tell by the hitch in his breathing that you’ve almost got him convinced. You can barely keep the smirk from your face as you arch your back, and whimper for him, “Please?”

· That one word is all it takes to break him. In a flash he’s slipped out of his cardigan and tossed it off into the darkness of the attic. His suspenders follow suit with a metallic clinking. It isn’t until he’s unbuttoning his trousers that you realize you have mere seconds to undo your own before Brahms falls upon you and tears them off himself. You’ve lost more than one good pair of jeans this way and you don’t intend to lose another if you can help it.

· Your shaking hands fumble with the button, managing to pop it only after a few tries. Taking them off from your position underneath Brahms is no small feat, especially considering his reluctance to move, now that his trousers rest about his knees and he’s rolling his hips against your still clothed thigh, his cock already leaking against the denim.

· “Want you now.” His voice is rough, breaking in time with the thrusting of his hips.

· “I know, baby. But you’ve gotta wait.”

· Brahms huffs in irritation. ‘Wait’ is not a word he likes to hear at the best of times, let alone when his dick is this hard.

· You tap his hip gently. “C’mon, up.”

· He drops his head against your shoulder with a petulant whimper, his hips stuttering against your thigh.

· “Brahms…” You sigh, half-frustrated, half-amused. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find it incredibly sexy when Brahms acted like a brat, but your pleasure was at stake here as well. “You can’t fuck me properly with my jeans on.”

· His hips slow for a moment, and he whines again.

· “C’mon, be a good boy for me.” You feel his cock pulse against your thigh, and he relents. He scoots back just enough for you to push your jeans and underwear down your thighs. Brahms takes care of the rest, tearing the offending fabric from your legs and tossing it from the bed to join his cardigan on the floor.

· His hands are on your shoulders in an instant, shoving you back against the mattress, all patience spent. You feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and barely have a time to take a breath before he’s pushing inside with a single, smooth stroke.

· “F-Fuuuck…”

· “Yeah, that’s the idea, baby.” Your hands are fisted tightly in the sheets, your voice tight as your body grows accustomed to the stretch once again. You’ve taken Brahms with little preparation before. You know you can handle it, but somehow the girth of him almost always comes as a surprise.

· To his credit, he does his best to keep still until you give him the ‘okay,’ though you can feel his hips shaking with the effort. He’s mouthy while he waits though, any trace of the gentleman within him his gone, replaced by a cursing, dirty-talking stranger, “Gonna pound you into this mattress, gonna fuck you like—fuck you’re so wet—like your my whore…mine, mine, ah fuck! Mine.”

· You roll your hips, testing the water, and he bites back a string of curses. His hips stutter forward unbidden, and you moan low in your throat.

· Behind the mask, you see his eyes roll back. He starts to beg then, changing his tune entirely, “Please, Love, let me fuck you, please, please, please. I promise I’ll be good. I will, just please!”

· You reach up, carding your fingers through his hair, “Show me what a good boy you are, make us feel good, baby.”

· Without missing a beat, Brahms’ hips take up a frantic rhythm, tearing a litany of pretty sounds from your throat. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as he drops his head to press doll’s mouth kisses against your throat.

· Your hand slips between your bodies, spreading your lips to circle your clit. You buck against him, gasping his name as the pleasure courses through you two-fold.

· A strong hand grasps your wrist again pulling it away from your clit. “We mustn’t touch what isn’t ours.” You nearly whine in frustration, but your displeasure is quickly forgotten when you feel the soft pads of Brahms’ fingers against your sensitive flesh.

· “You,” he groans in pleasure, angling his hips to push deeper inside of you, “You belong to me.” He punctuates the sentiment with a sharp snap of his hips. “That means I am the only one who can make you feel good.” He presses his fingers hard against your clit, and your thighs begin to shake. “Tell me who you belong to.”

· It takes you a second to find your voice. “Y-You, Brahms.”

· “Yesss,” the rhythm of his thrusts is beginning to fall by the wayside as his hips buck and stutter. “Say it again.” His fingers circle your clit faster, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm.

· “Fuck, Brahms! I’m yours! A-All yours! You’re gonna make me cum.”

· “Mine.” You feel the mask slide to the side again and his lips are on your neck. You feel his teeth graze the bite mark he’d left. His teeth are in your throat, his fingers on your clit, his cock in your cunt, and you’re cumming. His name tumbles from your lips, the only coherent thought in your mind.

· He groans against your neck, trying to fuck you through it, but you’re too tight around him, forcing him into an agitated stillness. His fingers work your clit feverishly until you push his hand away, too oversensitive to stand another second of it.

· You’re still almost painfully tight around him when the rhythmic pulsing of your own orgasm begins to push him over the edge. He thrusts into you once, twice, thrice more, before pulling out and shaking apart, his cum painting your thighs and stomach. He whimpers and trembles, fisting his cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm, desperate to chase every last ounce of pleasure.

· Only when he’s well and truly spent, nearly sobbing from the agony of the overstimulation does he flop down on the cot beside you, panting heavily, cock still twitching against his thighs.

· He kicks off his trousers, and curls up by your side, throwing an arm around you. For the longest time, the only sound in the room is that of your breathing slowing in tandem as you each come down from your high.

· Brahms’ voice is small when he speaks up at last, “Did I do okay?”

· You turn to face him, laying on your side. You reach out a hand and readjust his mask, before pressing a soft kiss against the delicate bow of his lips. “You were perfect. Thank you, Brahms.”

· He nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. There’s tension in his shoulders, and he won’t look you in the eyes.

· “What’s wrong, honey?”

· He shakes his head, burrowing against your side. “Nothing…”

· “It doesn’t look like nothing to me. It’s okay to talk to me about things like this, you know.”

· He’s silent for a little while longer, and you wonder if he needs a little more prodding to use his words. But then, he speaks, “I wasn’t…too rough? In the passages?”

· “No, baby. No. It was exactly like we talked about.”

· “Okay.” There’s a little touch of a frown in his voice, like he’s trying to puzzle something through in his mind. “I didn’t expect you to fight me so hard. It felt…real.”

· “I wanted to make it seem real. Did I upset you?”

· There’s a long pause, but when he speaks, he sounds genuine. “I don’t think so. It was a little…thrilling.”

· You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, “It was, wasn’t it? Where did you get an idea like that? Pretending to kidnap me and all that?”

· He’s quiet for a moment, as he remembers a time not so long ago, when the idea was meant to be more reality than fantasy. He was supposed to have that girl. He should have done better, should have fought for her harder, should have killed her and buried her in the yard with the others. He should have done a lot of things. The scar on his stomach burns with the memory of all the things he should have done. But they don’t matter now. She doesn’t matter now. He has you.

· He presses another kiss against your neck and lies, “Recreation of a scene from 'Jane Eyre.' You know how I adore that novel. And you being such a pretty lady, simply had to fill the role of the damsel in distress.”

· “If you say so.” You snuggle closer against his chest. He really was a very strange man. A yawn blossoms in the base of your jaw, but you do your best to fight it off. You know you’ll be sore later, but for now you’re happy and sated and perfectly content to doze in the arms of the man you love.

· Then a thought hits you, “Hold on, Jane Eyre doesn’t get kidnapped, Brahms.”

· He chuckles softly against your shoulder, “So you have been reading my books after all.”

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #slasher x reader #im so sorry this is so late #i couldnt figure out how to wrote brahms in a way that i liked :/#enjoy i hope #im off to bed #also ive never written het smut before so...i hope its alright #ripper fics

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

Lucky

A piece of Lambden for the Bog Fluff Battle! On Ao3 Here! Just a little bit of Aiden with a hurt leg and Lambert bringing him to Kaer Morhen over the winter to keep him close protect him. :) 8. Falling asleep mid conversation 27. First time meeting parent(s)/family

It has been a long week. Lambert has been pushing them to get to Kaer Morhen before the pass closes. They started too late, weather now unpredictable and full of dangers.

Aiden has had a hard time keeping up, still recovering from a nasty cut in his thigh and it’s taking more out of him to ride than usual. Lambert feels a little bad about it, but if they don’t want to get caught in yet another snowstorm and then have to turn back, they have to keep their pace.

Lucky that they actually got horses this time around. Last time Lambert made the trek someone decided to steal his horse as he was taking a contract.

Fucking bastards.

Lambert made sure no one even got close to the horses this time around. Not making that mistake again. This is taking enough time as it is.

Bringing Aiden to the keep is, well. Not risky, but not his best idea either, probably. For some reason, Vesemir has a thing against the cat witchers. The combination of finding a Cat friend (that he probably likes a little too much) and the promise of pissing Vesemir the fuck off is too good to resist. And taking into consideration that Aiden actually is hurt and could use a safe place to recover, there is simply no discussing it.

It is cold as shit, and when they camp for the night in an abandoned shepherd's hut they have to cuddle close together. Lambert will never admit how much he enjoys being close to Aiden. Not to anyone, least of all Aiden. He falls asleep while watching Aiden, hair falling into his face, mouth hanging slightly open as he snores.

In the morning Aiden's leg is stiff.

“Shut up, cat, and let me do it,” Lambert says, taking out a jar of ointment from his bag that he definitely didn’t pick up especially for Aiden. “We'll lose precious time if you're too sore to ride.”

Yeah, Lambert. Good cover. But Aiden doesn’t argue, he just pulls down his pants and presents his thigh. There might be a twinkle in his eye that makes Lambert's stomach flip, and Lambert ignores it with an angry huff. Like one does while hiding a crush.

He massages the ointment to the wound, carefully, and does not react when Aiden does breathy little sounds, thank you very much. Not until he’s done anyway.

“Felt good, kitty?” He smirks when Aiden is fastening his belt again. Aiden doesn’t miss a beat however, and winks back at him.

“Your hands always feel good on me, Lamb.”

Yep, that is all it takes for Lambert to turn his back and flee into all the things that have to be done. He is not blushing, it’s the cold. Leave off.

They are closing in on Kaer Morhen. Only another day or so, and they will be there. Lambert recognizes hunting trails and running tracks as they pass. But it’s getting late and Aiden is swaying in the saddle. So Lambert leads them towards a small cave that he found once and padded with moss. Hopefully there won’t be other inhabitants, but one never knows.

Lambert swiftly slides off his horse, but Aiden is still sitting in his saddle.

“You ok there, kitty cat?” Lambert asks, walking over and placing a hand on Aidens thigh. Aiden blinks blearily down at him and then looks around.

“Oh. We stopped.”

“Yeah. Come on down from there. I’ll catch you.”

It says a lot on how tired Aiden is when he just nods without further comment, lifting his leg over the saddle and sliding down into Lambert's open arms. He grunts when his feet catch the ground, despite Lambert bracing him.

“Stay here for a second?” Lambert says. “I’ll just tend to the horses and then we’ll get you inside and see to that leg.”

“Always took you for a caveman,” Aiden teases, and yawns before he can stop it. They are still standing close, so Lambert gets a face full of bad breath. He flicks his forehead in revenge, and then manhandles Aiden out of the way so he can remove bags and gear. It’s not completely safe, not even this close to the keep, so he will have to keep an eye out for the horses during the night.

As soon as the horses are settled, they make their way inside the cave.

“We really should put some more ointment on that.” Lambert comments when he sees how badly Aiden is limping.

“If you want to put your hands on me, Lamb, you only need to ask.” Aiden says, but it's sleepy and mumbled and utterly adorable.

“Alright. Aiden, let me put my hands on you.” Lambert snarks back, and Aiden blinks slowly at him in surprise.

“Drop your pants, kitty.” Oh yeah, that’s a blush. He seems to be unable to find words, opening and closing his mouth again, but he is doing as he’s told.

Something warm flutters inside Lambert, and he flicks Aiden's forehead again.

“Idiot,” he says and makes Aiden sit down so he can apply the ointment.

It’s a silent affair. Lambert massages and pats it in around the injury, mindful of the raw scar that is still there. As soon as he is done, he wipes his hands and settles so he can see out of the cave, having a look out for dangers. Aiden is tucked in next to him, wrapped in their blankets and furs. Lambert snags just the one, Aiden's body next to his helping plenty to keep his temperature up.

“I never said thank you.” Aiden says suddenly.

“For what?”

“If you hadn’t been there, I probably would have stayed the winter in some cave in the south.”

“Ah yes, which is very different from the cave we are in now in the north.”

“Yes, very different. You’re here.” Aiden mumbles, words a little slurred. Aiden allowing himself to be this vulnerable with Lambert around is… it makes Lambert want to hold him close, protect him from the world. He is not very used to that feeling.

“You’re welcome, kitty. You are lucky I'm the best friend there is,” Lambert says, trying to sound cocky. But it’s hard.

Aiden yawns again and suddenly there is an arm thrown over his legs and a forehead pressed into his hip.

“You really are,” Aiden says and then he is gone. Fast asleep, mouth hanging open like usual and hair all over his face.

Lambert looks down on him, and allows himself a moment of weakness. He pulls the hair out from Aidens face and tucks it behind his ear.

Something he’s been wanting to do since the first night he saw the other witcher asleep in all his messy glory.

Aiden's arm tightens around him and he cuddles a little closer. Lambert smiles and looks out into the darkness, preparing to meditate during the night. It’s peaceful, Aiden's snoring and the sound of the horses. Calm settles in him, and he feels himself sinking into it.

Kaer Morhen is every bit the ruin he remembers it to be. An echo of its grand self, walls long since broken and crumbled. Rats scurry here and there, making excellent target practice for the little princess that recently has taken up residence in their keep, along with her caretakers.

“Princess!” Lambert yells when she sees him, jumping from a high wall and into his arms without a trace of fear.

“Manchild!” she squeaks back when he hugs her close and spins her. That is a new insult.

“OI ESKEL! WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THE CHILD!” he yells up the wall, and indeed, Eskel's head poke out with that hideous grin of his.

“Prefer manbaby? We can do that!” He yells back down and Lambert flips him off.

“Ooh, look what the cat dragged in!” Another voice pipes up and Jaskier's head appears next to Eskel.

“Bard!” Aiden exclaims, and Jaskier does the same fearless jump into his arms as Ciri did. The fuck?!

Geralt darts out when Jaskier jumps, for an entire second scared that his bard has fallen to his death, but no.

“Oh. It’s you,” He says and returns to whatever he was doing up there.

“You know each other?” Lambert asks, feeling like he is missing something important here.

“Who doesn’t know Aiden?" Eskel says back, and alright, Lambert did not expect that. Aiden winks at him and puts the stupid bard down.

That night, Vesemir insists that he and Aiden share a room. He knows this Cat, he says, and he doesn't trust him further than he can toss. Which in itself is an insult, because apparently Lambert is how far Vesemir can toss. Meaning very much out of sight on the other end of the keep.

They at least get a big bed, even if it is only one. Jaskier smirks big time when he learns what room and where and does waggly eyebrows at him every chance he gets.

Fucking bard.

As soon as they are alone, Lambert shoves the little jar of ointment in Aidens hands.

“Massage your wound,” He says, words short and clipped. He can’t put the finger on why he is angry, but he is seething. He bustles about, unpacking his bags and claiming whatever space he can before Aiden can put his paws on it, as he usually does whenever they have shared a room.

“Not helping me today?” Aiden asks, a curiously blank expression on his face.

“No?” Lambert replies, sorting his clean socks from the dirty ones. Coming home from travels always means laundry. “You seemed to be walking just fine today. And awake enough to do it yourself.”

Aiden is silent until Lambert turns to look at him.

“What?” He mutters, debating whether or not he should toss the dirty sock in Aiden's face. The face that everyone in this fucking keep seems to know somehow.

“Why are you angry?” Aiden asks, fiddling with the jar in his hands.

“I'm not.” Lambert lies, turning back to his laundry.

“Is.. is this because of what I said the other night?”

“No.”

“No? Then is it because I hugged the bard?”

“No,” Lambert says through clenched teeth, and alright, maybe he is. Aiden seems to notice, and there is a shuffling behind him, and then Aiden is slumping against Lambert, back to back.

“I have a confession,” Aiden mumbles, leaning his head back against Lambert's shoulder. It’s warm, comfortable, and it pisses Lambert off all the more that he feels that way.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck the bard.”

“What? No! Geralt would have killed me if I even looked that way!” Aiden huffs, and well, fair. But is that the only protest he has about it? A fear for his life?

“Listen. I… I might have been nervous.”

“About what?”

“About meeting your family. It’s a big deal.”

“What do you mean?” Why does that sound, well. Like they are together? It puts a little spark in Lambert's stomach, chasing away that ugly anger.

“Of course I didn’t know when you would invite me. But I knew you would eventually. And I, uhm- I wanted them to like me.”

Aiden turns his head so his forehead rests against the back of Lambert's head. Lambert lets the socks drop to the floor, putting his hands on his thighs.

“Aiden.”

“I know.”

But does he? Does he really? Lambert wants to turn around and look at him, wants to figure out those cryptic words.

“I really am lucky.” Aiden says after a moment. “To have you in my life, I mean.” “Why are you sweet talking me, kittycat?”

“Maybe I want you to turn around and kiss me? And stop throwing a fit because you are jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.” Lambert protests, but he turns around and just does that.

Aiden isn’t smiling when Lambert turns. Just looking at him, that stupid wild hair of his all over his face. Lambert tucks a lock behind his ear, just like before, and kisses him.

A soft drag of lips, lazy nips and licks like they have done nothing else in all their years together.

When they part, Lambert strokes a thumb over Aiden's cheek, still looking at those lips. Maybe he should lean in, kiss him more.

“Tell me again how lucky you are to have me in your life.” Lambert smirks, noticing the blush on Aiden's cheeks. Witchers can’t blush, bullshit. “And this time, no falling asleep on me.”

“Aww, I was planning to use you as a pillow!”

“Brat.”

Some hours before daybreak, Lambert wakes up with a start. Across his chest lays Aiden, startled awake by Lambert.

“Wait. Kittycat. Are you the reason Vesemir dislikes cat witchers?!”

“Uhm… Look. There was this incident with an egg…..”

#lambden #lambert x aiden #the witcher #bog fluff battle #kaer morhen #hurt aiden #caring lambert #snarky boys #fluff #kaer morons #because they are #i dont make the rules #geraskier #eskel #ciri #vesemir #egg incident #dapanda writes

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smallblip · 3 years

Text

Don’t drink the kool-aid

Levihan | rated for mentions of sex

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942904

“Levi... Think of a number between one and ten-“

Hanji says, her breathing is a little ragged, but she’s looking at him excitedly, like there’s something shiny that he has to offer and she’s taking the bait, biting down. Whatever it is, he knows she isn’t going to let go. But he wishes she would-

“Really Hanji? You wanna fucking do this now?” Levi says, he looks down to where their bodies are connected. She laughs and wriggles above him, “just answer the question!”

Levi regrets letting her take control of the situation. Regrets letting her flip them over so she’s on top, promising to ride him until he’s spent and her thighs are burning.

Because right now she’s really not delivering on that promise.

Levi nods, letting her know he’s playing her little game.

She wraps an arm around her chest, another hand coming to stroke her chin. Levi sighs. He shifts uncomfortably under her.

“Seven!” She announces, like whatever shiny incentive there is is within grasp.

“No. Four...” Levi replies, watching as Hanji slumps against his chest. He can’t see her face from where it’s buried against his neck, but he knows she’s pouting.

“Idiot...”

This is how you love in this world. First you toss out the word love. You tell it to its face that Commander Erwin Smith says “love is the ultimate cult of men... A sect... A dirty ploy by the whatever god is up there to make us all vulnerable..." Erwin spits the last word in disgust. "Is that what you want? To be sheeple?”

They are having one too many drinks at the pub and Hanji is laughing her head off at whatever subconscious train of thought streams out of Erwin’s mouth. Love isn't the only thing that can render a man vulnerable. She thinks alcohol is far more practical, and yet, Erwin doesn't seem to have any complaints about it.

Levi shoots Hanji a look, a little tired, yet a little amused despite his frowning- want me to knock him out?

She shakes her head- no, this is fun!

Erwin catches them making eyes at one another and he points from Levi to Hanji, then back to Levi again. “Don’t you dare fall in love... Both of you... You’re too good for that...” Erwin says before taking another swig of whisky. Except it’s a little late in the night and Levi has already swapped it for water. Hanji wonders how long it would take for him to notice.

But it’s a little late and the alcohol settles as a blush on the bridge of Hanji’s nose, and Levi is staring at her now, a little too tender for comfort.

Hanji averts her gaze, this is far too much to deal with now. So she turns her attention back to Erwin instead, chuckling, she says “you must be fun at parties...”

Erwin wakes up the next morning with a colossal headache. “What did I say last night?” He groans at a meeting that’s really just everyone staring at one another with bloodshot eyes.

“Nothing out of the ordinary...” Hanji says, chipper through her hangover. But Erwin catches her and Levi sniggering to one another later. He wonders what the joke is.

But that’s how you talk about love in this world- you don’t. Instead, you replace it with the feeling of bandages wrapped taut over torn skin and broken bones.

“Gentle, Levi... These bones cannot take more breaking... I did the math...” Hanji is wincing and already she’s withdrawing from his touch. He chides her. If she stays still this would all go by much more painlessly. "Stay still or I’ll break your legs too..." he says, but the menace disappears behind deep concentration.

“Thank you...” she says when he’s testing the integrity of her bandages, and his heart misses a beat.

Strange how broken bones can heal themselves in time. But the dull throbbing in his heart and the wrenching in his gut don’t go away. Maybe it just means nothing’s broken. Maybe this is the feeling of life itself. Of the universe telling him hey... You're not done for yet... You've still got a lot of living to do...

After all, this is how you love in this world. First you look romance in the eye and tell it to take a walk. Tell it that it has no business in these parts of town.

Some days Levi is bestowed with the blessing of self-awareness, enough to know he has the romantic capacity of a child with a playground crush.

He kicks her under the table during a meeting, you idiot I told you this was a bad idea, he glares her down, hoping she would somehow read his mind. And somehow, whether by some sort of hallowed bond between them or sheer dumb luck, she does.

She narrows her eyes at him-

watch me.

He pulls her back by her cape, "don’t go charging into danger you idiot!" And he wants to let the sentence run on, you have to be safe, to live a long life, prove the gods wrong, but he doesn’t. Instead he purses his lips and his hand drops from her cape to her arm.

She narrows her eyes, lips pursed. Hanji has always had a rebellious streak and an untamable spirit, and it shows in the way she juts her chin out at him-

watch me.

So Levi learns to love in other ways.

He squeezes her hand before battle, like a silent prayer for deliverance. And she squeezes back, fingers lacing with his, eyes bright with determination- a promise to make it back home.

He drapes his cape around her when she falls asleep at her desk, fingers tracing the lines between her brows, and she relaxes. She dreams of fresh laundry and a small, clean cottage that smells like him. And she learns that love can be kind.

Love is tender, love is kind, love is Hanji’s fingers circling his wrist, her hand on his cheek, her arm around his shoulder. Love is her touches that ghost his forehead, down his nose- little gossamer touches; like butterflies. Like she’s trying to remember every detail before it’s too late. But it’s still early and they still have relatively long lives to lead. Whatever it is “long” means in this world.

“This is easy...” she says, ambiguous.

“What is?” he asks.

“This,” she says again, pressing a kiss to his cheek when they’re sitting in the trees, recovering from battle.

And Levi thinks it’s funny how things turned out. Neat freak, disciplined soldier, fussy little runt from the underground, trailing after a person with a penchant for the macabre and little capacity for decorum. Like two opposite poles of a magnet, pulled together by forces unknown.

He remembers joining the Corps and meeting Hanji Zoë, and thinking he doesn’t want anything to do with her. But somehow along the way she has crawled under his skin, sinking into the chambers of his heart, made a home out of him.

They’re lined up on their horses behind the gates, and Erwin is saying something about freedom, about the cause, about fighting and spirit and bravery. Hanji turns to him in the middle of it all, and Levi braces himself. What's it going to be this time? A joke about sheeple? A comment about the flowers beyond the walls?

“Levi, think of a number between one and ten!” She says, and his instinctive reaction is to roll his eyes. But he nods anyway, crease between his brows relaxing when he watches her smile.

“Five!”

“Three...”

“No way!” She kicks herself. She had been so sure she’d get it right. After all, in the years that have gone by they learn to trust one another, lean on one another. She translates his words with clarity and he tells her how she’s really feeling past her burying herself in work. No matter. The gates are opening and Levi watches her eyes light up in wonder. She looks at him one last time before they ride beyond the gates, and Levi knows what that look means-

this is my favourite part.

He smiles back at her-

mine too.

And Levi thinks he had spoken too soon about not wanting anything to do with Hanji Zoë. Because now he looks for her in the battlefield, he needs to know she’s alright. And every single goddamn time, he finds her looking for him too. And it hits him like a brick, because this is how you love in this world. Levi stares love down from across the room, pocket knife drawn by his side, he tells it to go fuck itself. But the thing about love- it has always had a rebellious streak, and an untamable spirit. It makes its way under your skin and builds a little home for itself nestled within arteries, heartstrings, and skin upon skin upon skin-

First, comes the tentative touches. Like a deer peeking past the trees in the forest. Hanji laughs too much, and it makes his heart beat out of his chest, but it also throws him off. “Stop laughing!” He snarls, but that only makes her laugh harder.

“Don’t look so scared Levi...” she says.

Levi scoffs. He wants to tell her he isn’t scared. But there’s never a point in lying to Hanji. The fact that they’re so transparent to one another proves inconvenient at junctures like these. He tries to think of something else- anything else. But it shows on his face, and she’s giggling again.

It shouldn’t be this difficult. He’s too old for this degree of imprecision. It shouldn’t be difficult at all- first you undress your partner, then yourself, and then everything will fall into place.

Now they’re both stark naked, and Levi can see the goosebumps rising on her skin. He knows he’s supposed to do more than stare at her face. But-

Her hand finds his and she presses their palms together, fingers intertwined, we’re okay. You ready?

And that’s how they love in this world. That’s their signal- palm against palm, fingers laced, a little squeeze- ready? Go! There’s no turning back now.

Sometimes it’s the feeling of fingers digging so deep they bruise, of hair-pulling, of teeth scraping against flesh- a reminder that affection and pain are lovers.

In these times, kisses taste like blood. It’s unclear whose blood it is- only that they all taste the same at the end of the day- like rust and iron and the earth. And Levi doesn’t want to dwell on the details lest it distracts from the way her hands slide under his shirt, the way she guides them to the bed. He wants to comment on how the sheets are ruined beyond salvation, but Hanji doesn’t let him. Oh well. It’s nothing a little soap and a hot iron can’t solve.

Her hands seek his out, and she places them on her neck. I want it harder, every time, that means I want it harder. And Levi gives.

Next comes a reckoning that's something short of divine.

“When are we going to admit we love each other and move on?” Levi asks after, hands stilling on Hanji’s sides, just below her chest.

Don’t stop... she guides his fingers to stroke her skin again, and he does, tracing each bump and raise, each a testimony to survival, feeling the rise and fall of her ribs.

“That would be too easy now wouldn’t it?” She grins sleepily at him.

And love is anything but easy in this world, so why should it make an exception for them?

“My mother once told me to really reel a man in, you gotta slip through his fingers, let him give chase a little...” Hanji chuckles, eyebrows wagging.

Levi scoffs.

“An old geezer at the pub once told me if you know how to give a woman an orgasm, she’s yours forever...” And Levi almost regrets saying this. He doesn’t know why he says most of anything he says. But the words come easy, sloppily when he’s with Hanji. And Hanji never seems to mind, armed with a repository of equally horrific things to say.

“I mean... He’s not wrong...” she shrugs, and Levi thinks maybe this is as good a declaration of love as he’s going to get. He wonders if he’d be alright with this if they weren’t poking a stick at death all the time. Then again, he has fallen in love with a person born with a stick in her hands. So maybe it comes as a package deal.

Levi scowls at her and pinches her nose, “disgusting...”

But she does slip through his fingers a little, returning to him an eye short, a new title gained, and a fog in her lungs that makes it hard to breathe. Levi feels a dull ache in his heart that doesn't go away. This time he's certain that something's broken.

He kicks a chair towards her and sits her down, "you have to rest you idiot. You barely eat, you haven’t slept."

She narrows her eyes at him, “there’s no time, Levi... There are things I have to do...”

Already she’s getting up, but Levi grabs her arm and glowers at her wordlessly, one day you’re going to drop dead and we’ll all have a dead fucking commander on top of every other fucking inconvenience we’ve been dealt.

And Hanji shoots him a look. The one that says watch me do everything you told me not to do. But her expression softens when she sees the anxiety in his eyes. Because she recognises the look on his face- she had worn the same concern when she had found him after Isabelle and Farlan passed. The same look every time they return from beyond the walls. And she regrets pushing him away. She hates it with every fibre of her being. So she squeezes his hand before she leaves, I’ll be alright...

He squeezes back.

And that’s how you love in this world. You take whatever instinct there is to keep your lover from danger, to drag her kicking and screaming from the frontlines. To tell her to stop being petulant and sit this one out. Instead, all Levi manages is a- “don’t you dare go running off playing hero again Hanji! You hear me? Don’t you fucking dare,” when they’re alone again in her quarters, two naked bodies lying by candlelight.

And she grins at him, the nerve, the audacity. She actually grins at him.

“Hey Levi, think of a number between one and ten...” she says, and he really doesn’t want her to change the topic. He wants her to promise him. To swear on everything good that’s left in this world that she’ll be safe. But it’s also too late to pretend he isn’t going to play along.

“Ten?” She guesses.

“Five...” he smiles.

Hanji smiles back, “still got it!”

And he kisses her like it's the first time. He always kisses her like it's the first time. Soft, lingering, like a drizzle in the middle of Summer, like raindrops clinging to skin. She smiles at him when they pull apart-

this is my favourite part.

He smiles back at her-

mine too.

↭

And Hanji thinks it's truly ridiculous. It's a scandal really. Erwin was right. This is mind-control of the highest and most elegant order. Whatever this feeling is, it has possessed her to build an alter from stick and stone and stitches over torn skin.

A little commune for two in the forest.

Levi’s hand is in hers, but she faces away from him. She doesn’t want to see him like this. Not when it manifests an ache in her heart that she doesn't quite know how to nurse. How will they recover from this?

“When are we going to admit we love each other and move on?” Hanji asks absentmindedly. She thinks it’s alright to bend the rules of this world a little. It's okay to talk about love, to give a name to the horror that plagues them. Because whatever conspiracy this whole love business is pedaling, she thinks it’s pretty goddamn convincing, and they might as well admit it.

But they’ve gone so long without having to use words, and Levi doesn’t want to jinx it-

“That would be too easy now wouldn’t it?”

And this is how you love in this world, romance comes in unexpected forms. It's been so long since they've been alone like this. And Hanji dreams of fresh laundry and a small, clean cottage that smells like him. She hopes to god Levi sees it too- and he does. He sees it every time he looks at her. But he settles for the next best option. He takes whatever words left unsaid and hoards them into a stockpile of recurring motifs that are proxy for affection-

"Four eyes... I'm thinking of a number between one and ten..." Levi manages through the pain, and he knows it's all worth it because he gets to watch that smile spread across her face.

"Two?" She says, only a little above a whisper.

"One... You're getting closer..." He says, like a prophecy, because immediately, she closes the gap between them and presses a kiss to his forehead, then to the corner of his lips. She lays down next to him and he musters all the strength in the world to push a stray strand of hair from her face. Like the lifting of a veil-

this is my favourite part.

She smiles back at him-

mine too.

↭

Wall Maria has been breached. The day is breaking and soon everything will spiral out of hand. But for now, it’s still dusk and the sun has barely made its way past the horizon. There’s something so rare and sacred about this moment that it feels surreal.

Levi can’t remember the first part of the conversation. They must have been talking about something stupid. They always are. But the next part falls into place so beautifully that it has to be premeditated somehow. Maybe Erwin was right. This is all some sort of grand scheme, a cult of wonder.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with me, four eyes...”

“What a ridiculous notion...” Hanji replies with a scoff and a little chuckle. Because this is how you love in this world. You look love in the face and think, oh god no, really? Of all the people in this world, him? But love is tender, love is kind, love is Levi holding onto the belt around her waist as she tip-toes across a short ledge so she doesn’t fall.

“Me? In love with you?” She continues, throwing her head back to laugh. Her arms are out, she’s getting pretty good at keeping balance. But Levi’s hand is still there regardless.

Levi clicks his tongue, “idiot...”

It’s good that they don’t speak of love. After all, this is as far as love goes in this world- the swell in Levi’s chest and all the words left unsaid, translated into a curated repertoire of looks and touches. A hand on the small of her back means I’ve got you.

And god is it inconvenient to love in a world like theirs. It’ll inevitably end in heartbreak, and Levi doesn’t enjoy being a cliché in a tragedy. He hears Erwin’s voice echoing in his head, “don’t fall in love... Just don’t...”

But he looks at Hanji, his lips curve into a smile when she looks back at him grinning. It’s just a moment, but Levi recognises the look, and Hanji sees it too in the glint of his eyes.

Her hand in his says we’re in this together, a squeeze says it’ll all be alright. And a look of determination tells the rest of the world to take a walk.

In this world, they tell you not to fall in love. It's a recipe for disaster. Like cyanide in a Styrofoam cup.

But Hanji kisses him, and she looks at him like he has something shiny to offer, like he’s slipping it into her pockets. There’s a look in her eyes and Levi knows exactly what it means-

watch me.

#cross posting for posterity #if you’ve seen this somewhere before then yes it’s the same fic!#sorry if you have to see it twice!#levihan #levihan fanfic #levihan fanfiction #my fic #mine #Levi x hange #Levi x Hanji

114 notes · View notes

lazysimp · 3 years

Text

Dark Clouds (+18) /// Shoto x Fem Reader

Click HERE to read the male version

Rating: Explicit 18+ Only Minors DNI

Summary: You love Shoto more than anything but what if you were the only thing standing in between him and his dreams? Smut+Angst

A prequel to Cloud Nine

Word count: 3k+

Warnings/tags: Angst, Blackmail, Morning Sex, Breakup, Soft Dom Shoto, Praise, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (receiving), She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults.

masterlist┃AO3

“Oh fuck Shoto! Please just a little more,” You beg, your back arching off the bed as you push his head down. Your fiancé had made it a habit to wake you up with his tongue delving in your cunt, licking up your juices like it was his last meal.

After living together for a month you thought he would finally start to calm down but his need for you had only grown. He had barely left the apartment, deciding to take a few personal days to spoil you instead of working on climbing the ranks. You tried to convince him to focus more on his career, but he would drop to his knees every time you brought it up.

“I love this pretty pussy,” He groaned, swiping his tongue through your soaked folds until he found your aching bud. His lips closed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers teased your dripping hole.

He released your swollen clit to move his mouth to your hole and gather more of your addicting taste with his tongue. “My baby has such a good pussy. So wet and tasty, and it’s all mine.”

You let out a whine at his praise, you wanted to always belong to him. To never leave his side as he rose to meet his dreams.

He added a third finger into your tight hole, stretching you open in preparation for his cock. You hiss at the slight burn but it fades quickly as his expert fingers began to fall in temperature, soothing the ache. He had always been so considerate during sex, always making sure you came at least once before he ever tried to enter you.

The first time the two of you had sex was not the greatest but it was a moment in your life you would never forget. For hours he explored your body, experimenting and exploring your body to understand exactly what you liked. By the end of the night, you were both absolutely exhausted, barely able to move.

His tongue returned to your clit, teasing the side of it with the tip of his tongue as his fingers continue to pump into your tight cunt. Your breathing grows frantic and your body becomes tight as the pleasure swelled inside you. You could feel your thighs tremble around his head and your hands shake.

He smiled into your pussy as your sweet hole trembled around his fingers, his baby was close. Remembering to not speed up he kept his movements consistent, listening for your little mewls to direct his touch.

As your breathing grew more labored and body tense he took your little berry into his mouth, sucking on it like a tit. It was the final straw, he watched in awe as you fell apart. Your pussy milking his fingers while your clit wiggled in his mouth with each clench.

Normally he would keep his mouth on your cunt, cleaning up your orgasm with his tongue but he had to be at work in twenty minutes. Grudgingly he moved his mouth from your heat and rose to his knees. He gently slid his hands under you and flipped you over, exposing your mouthwatering ass to his view.

Holding his breath to stop from cumming he lifted your hips up and pushed your back down. It looked as though you were presenting yourself to him. While he loved watching your face as you cum, this view definitely had its perks.

“Shoto,” You whine, dragging him out of his thoughts. “Fuck, I need more.”

Determined to have you cum around his cock he reached around and slid through your slick folds to find your aching bud. He let out a sly grin watching your body jerk as he teased your button, knowing the extra stimulation would send you right over the edge.

“Please, Shoto, please,” You begged, the tight coil inside your chest reeling tighter with each lazy circle around your clit. You lose the ability to speak, only moans leaving your lips.

“That’s it, that is my good girl. So perfect for me. I want you to cum on my cock while I watch,” He says hoarsely behind you. That was all it took, the spring inside you snapped sending you spiraling into oblivion.

Your toes curl in uncontrollably as you scream into the pillow, the brutal waves of pleasure crashing into you. You couldn’t even breathe as your rode out each wave. His fingers did not stop teasing your clit, they teased you through the high. Making you ride the wave as long as possible before his thrusts started to fall out of rhythm.

“I should be home for dinner today, I am only scheduled to patrol until five.”

You nod, “Do you want to go out? Mina said the new soba place was really good.”

Shoto flashed you a warm smile, “I would love that, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Please be safe.”

He tilts his head into your hand, giving you some of its weight. “Don’t worry, I promise I will always come back to you.”

Shoto was more capable of taking care of himself but it was hard not to worry. You knew what you signed up for when you agreed to go out with Shoto, but he made all the stress and worry worth it.

“Hello?” You say into the small mic, unsure who would be asking to come up. Shoto hadn’t mention anyone planning on coming over.

“Can I come up?” The deep powerful voice of Endeavor said to the mic.

You plaster on your best smile, “Please, come in.”

Endeavor cleared his throat, “This is a very nice place the two of you share. Shoto chose well.”

You give a cautious smile, “I do really love this apartment. I have never lived somewhere with a view as nice as this one and it is easy for both of us to get to work from here.”