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mirkoluvs · 8 months

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★ SUPER SHY

sanji (opla) x fem reader

genre: angst to comfort !!

notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!

you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.

“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.

“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.

finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?

“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.

you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.

is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?

before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.

“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.

the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.

after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.

“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.

soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.

“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.

“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.

once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.

your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .

“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.

“one fresh plate coming up!”

#one piece #one piece x reader #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #one piece netflix #opla sanji #op #one piece comfort #one piece angst #sanji comfort #sanji angst #sanjionepiece #sanji #sanji live action #one piece live action #opla

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letterlitter · 30 days

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Pacify Her

Lando Norris x reader

•Tags: smut, toxic Lando, hate-fuck, makeup sex

•Loosely based on a song by Melanie Martinez with the same title.

•Wordcount: 1.6k

It was unbearable how Lando squeezed this new girl's thigh and whispered in her ear. You knew it was to make you jealous, he was a tease even more when you two were in a relationship. You had really bad arguments that let to the decision of splitting, but since you didn't want to break up the friend group, you agreed to just say the relationship ended on good terms and decided to be friends which was a total lie and both of you knew it.

Now, only a couple months after everything, Lando had shown up with a new "girlfriend" which drove you absolutely mad how uncouth he could be. Bringing this girl in your group out of the blue fully knowing that neither you nor himself had moved on from that deep, long term thing you had.

She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend and get your validation so bad. You didn't know if Lando had told her you were his ex. He didn't even dare mention it when he was introducing her. You automatically hated her, although her big brown eyes seemed lovely and innocent. She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into. You pitied her cluelessness.

You noticed Lando's griny glances at you, he kept making sure you were looking before each kiss he left on her cheek. The bastard had all his moves coordinated and planned but you had been with him for too long not to see right through his facade.

You were at your limit, who was he to inflict this hurt on you after all that he had done?

Rage made your body dense as you walked towards Lando's house the night after, when you made sure nobody else was with him. His Friday nights had always been free on purpose to sleep until noon, game, and sleep again. You remember trying to wake him up for lunch and he was dead asleep because he had stayed awake to play with friends.

You rang and he buzzed the door open without asking. Walking towards the stairs you noticed the rose garden you had planted in a corner. The thought of Lando's face after a thorn had poked him in the arm and how he treated the flowers as his enemies forced your lips into a fainted smile. You hated that his memories made you happy. You hated it was him you had those memories with.

You pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on why you were here. Lando opened the door, a confused look on his face, "y/n? What is it why are you here?"

"We need to talk." And you stormed in.

"Please come in, make yourself comfortable." The sarcasm in his voice was familiar, and now that you weren't in love with him, infuriating.

"Want to talk about what?"

"About how you're being such an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like this Lando I know you did those things on purpose."

"Damn I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his sarcastic tone. You hated it.

You pushed his chest back in anger, "stop playing with me. You know damn well this girl you keep bringing is just a doll to mess with my head."

Lando smiled as if he had been expecting these words from you.

"This is way too low, even for you Lando."

"Everyone thinks we're friends, why can't friends introduce their new girlfriends to their other friends?"

"I'm not everyone. I know this is a lie stop trying to make it sound casual."

"What do you expect me to do? Stay single until you're over me?"

"Yes!" The loud sound that exited your mouth surprised you as it did Lando. You never planned to sound weak or needy. You just wanted to get closure, "look. I'm not trying to control your life or whatever, but what you're doing to make me jealous is messy and fucking pathetic. Fix it. Goodbye." And you started walking towards the door.

"Well did it work?" Lando's voice stopped you. He sounded sort of genuine for the first time in months.

You kept silent and still, wondering what to answer. Turning around to face him you said, "well do you love her?"

"Of course I do. She's very real."

You took one step closer, "stop lying."

Lando took a step closer to you, "stop being jealous."

You took one more step, "she looks way too innocent for you. I pity her."

Lando took another step , "I can teach her."

-"Funny."

-"I know."

-"You're insufferable."

-"I know."

Silence.

Now you were only one step away from eachother. Only one breath. You were mad at him and the tension felt heavy in the air as the sun was halfway set. His eyes looked crazy blue in the last golden rays of sunshine coming in fron his big windows. His face stingy and lips so soft it made you even more angry at him.

Your self control was getting shaky and you felt it shatter when Lando swinged his arms up to hold your face to kiss you deeply on the lips.

You squeezed your hand on his arm in protest to rip him off of you before it was too late but he was desperate.

He kept kissing you harder and harder like you gave him air to breathe.

You hated this. You hated the way his body pulled you in and you hated how it felt so good. He knew his way with you. Every single button, all the nooks and crannies.

You finally eased into the kiss, letting go of Lando's hoodie that was balled up in your fist and started to kiss him back.

His hands unzipped your sweatshirt and pulled it off your arms as soon as he felt that you wanted this as well. You let him. He slipped his hand under your tshirt, pinching your belly, messaging your back.

You let out a heavy exhale.

"I missed you." He whispered into your mouth, putting his lips on yours before you could say anything back.

Lando's hands moved down to your jeans but you held onto his hand to prevent him from going on. He stopped kissing you.

It was all too much for you and you hated him for being so good at this. You stared dead into his eyes, knowing full well that you were helpless, and said, "you fucking bastard."

He giggled when you pressed your debating lips on his again.

You let him kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your belly. You let him get down on his knees for you, between your legs.

His wet tongue on you made you jump in a surprising pleasure. The tip of his tongue moving in circular motions, in search of the place that made you moan the loudest. You tried fighting the sensation but failed miserably when he raised his finger to your entrance, messaging and warning about what's to come.

The moan that left your lips after he pushed his finger inside you was involuntary. You could feel Lando smiling on your pussy with the sound. He kept moving his tongue with your hand in his curls; pumping his finger and pulling moans out of you until you felt like you could take it no more. That's when Lando pulled his now soaked finger out and stood up, Leaving you clenching around nothing.

He faced you again to continue his kisses; you could taste yourself on his lips as he took off your tshirt and your bra, leaving you completely naked in the middle of the house. He looked at you once more before taking off his own hoodie you've been pulling on to get rid of since the start, he turned you around and got closer. His bulge rubbing against your butt from under his sweatpants.

"You're so pretty." He whispered into your ear, "wait here okay?"

You turned around to see him almost run to his bedroom to get condoms and you got a chance to take a look at his smooth, tan skin as he walked back.

Lando kissed you shoulder and your back as he slowly bent you over the handle of the couch. Messaging your body as he bent on you to let you feel his skin, his pants were off, your could feel his hard dick against the back of your leg. He adjusted himself on you and pushed in. You weren't hesitant to moan anymore. His length inside you was a familiar sensation of pleasure after this long. He was all you needed.

Lando started pumping deeper into you, making you feel fully stretched. You could hear his little groans and exhales when he grabbed your neck to make you arch your back more, pulling your head towards his mouth. "I bet nobody fucked you like this since I was gone." And he started moving faster. You pushed back your body into his, blurring the lines infront of your eyes.

You came within seconds after that.

He pulled out of you. You turned around quickly, grabbed his shoulders and lead him to the couch to sit down.

"Could you ever teach her this?"

And you climbed on top of him, each leg on each side. Leading his still erect dick to your hole and pushing down on him. Lando threw his head back with a moan. You took his hands and put them on your ass. He squeezed his hands with every movement you made.

You started kissing under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. Moans started turning into whimpers and he started pushing up his legs towards you. You both moved faster as you reached your high. You nails dug into Lando's shoulder and his hands tight around your back when you both came and you collapsed into his arms.

****

"What a stupid decision." You said through your panting and you both giggled since you knew you were going to make more.

(This is the first time I'm posting a smut one shot online sorry if it's short or lacking♡)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 smut

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟗 — 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐒

✦ kinktober day 9 — aphrodisiacs feat. dottore : scaramouche : al-haitham : childe x fem! reader | kinktober masterlist.

✦ warnings: nsfw : aphrodisiacs : !!! both parties are consenting !!! : dottore and scaramouche drug you while it's you who drugs al-haitham and childe wee woo

✦ 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄

dottore realized that it indeed took effect on you once he saw you squirm in your chair, tightly pushing together your legs while rubbing your hands together nervously. He's grinning at the sight, how adorable, highlighting how you didn't even think twice before grabbing the aphrodisiac in his hands will never not be hilarious to him. "are you alright, dear?" his tone was dark, feigning innocence as he lightly titled his head, as if he was thinking about something rather deeply.

"yes, of course." you're nodding your head frantically before he carefully walked towards you, getting rid of his right glove to expose his hand. "Spread your legs." you're of course, following his every wish, opening your thighs despite desperately wanting to keep them close, you needed to feel some pressure down there right now. The wetness was pooling out of you in thick spurts, who knows what dottore had given you as he carefully pushed his pointer n middle finger against your heat.

You're breathless, shuddering as you started to grind yourself against his fingers, "Oh my." he's clicking his tongue, dottore wasn't pleased with that little move, you were certain he wasn't, "might I have to remind you on what proper manners are, hm?" you would be lying if he didn't scare you, the hot air which surrounded you only getting hotter as you closed your eyes, his fingers now hooking past your waistband to collect your juices as you longed for them inside of you. Maybe if you're behaving now, he'd actually finger fuck you properly.

✦ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

the second scaramouche pushed the little pill past your plump lips was the moment you saw how his eyelids grew heavy with an almost desperate desire for you. It wasn't clear who of the both of you was more excited, you— who never tried it before and were looking forward to a new experience or scaramouche— who couldn't wait to see you become a drooling little mess only for his eyes to witness.

you were certain it started to effect you once you felt a sudden rush of lust shudder through your body, whining because of the lack of physical affection you felt as you moved towards your lover, who was laying next to you, watching you with eager eyes. You decided to advance closer, scaramouche's hands helping you straddle his body before you lowered yourself to place a quick peck on his lips. "I need you." he's swallowing down harshly upon hearing your whispery voice, nodding in response as that was indeed enough approval for you. The feeling of the drug breaking within you made him lick his lips, fingers digging into your thighs.

your mind was hazy while scaramouche's hands roamed over your body, helping you grind yourself against his growing bulge. At this rate the both of you wouldn't even be able to take off each others clothes, humping against one another like some horny lovers who didn't know any better. "please." you're huffing out, mouth agape as you looked into his mesmerizing eyes, "you're so gone." scaramouche couldn't believe how much you trusted him, laughing at your fucked out state despite him not even fucking you yet. He made sure to savour this moment forever.

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

at first, al-haitham was skeptical, like 'i don't think this will work on me darling', he was grabbing onto his pride like a madman, arrogantly taking the pill and pushing it past his lips. He didn't think anything was really up when he decided to lay down next to you, muscles tensing upon feeling the soft bedsheets around his body. Not until he actually noticed how hard he had gotten, it was incredibly painful in his pants, unbearable.

al-haitham's hands flew over his bulge, cupping it before trying to prevent himself from becoming even more miserable, how did he ever think he would be able to suppress a drug in his blood? "fuck." the curses that left past his plump lips weren't stopping, more so did you secretly enjoy them. "It seems like you need help." you're voicing towards him, displaying pseudo like innocence in front of the man as he rolled his eyes at you.

"get to it then." he spat, honestly fed up with the situation, groaning as you pushed his hand to the side to cup his growing bulge yourself. Your hands were heavy on his member, "remember to breathe." you murmured, biting down on your lower lip at the sheer sight of al-haitham's face flushing a bright shade of red. He's such a mess by the time you exposed his leaking member to the cold air of the room, fisting his cock in front of his eyes when he finally came all on your digits and the way he breathed out after that was almost comedically.

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

it did happen quite often for childe to get hard in midst a make out session, sometimes sooner than later. But what he certainly did not expect, was for his cock to get almost uncomfortable hard after a few minutes of gulping down the little play you prepared for him. He truly thought he could handle it when the faintest touch on his cock had shivers run down his spine.

"fuck." he's panting, a few strands of his hair sticking on his damp forehead while the tip of his ears were shining bright red, "be careful." he's looking up to view your grin, it was almost menacing, truth be told it was mostly ajax who took the initiative to worship you during the act, but now it was finally your turn to show him just how crazy you were for him. You're holding onto his pants, dragging the zipper down before freeing his throbbing member, teasingly sliding your fingers up and down his length.

At this point childe was turning into a little mess, whining at every touch you graced him with, muffling his voice with the back of his hand without actually succeeding. "you're so different, ajax." your voice was hoarse, the big smirk on your face taking all the attention, "let me take care of you." The inaudible scream from him was the next thing you heard after taking him in your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down with his cock throbbing around your plump lips. His release came soon after, hitting him stronger than every other climax prior to this experience and once it truly hit him, he was more than spend, unable to do anything other than shower in his afterglow.

kinktober masterlist.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

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milfsloverblog · 9 months

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Green-Eyed Monster (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x fem!reader

A/N: This is a request that I got a long while ago, something about Jane and some drama/smut. I apologise to whoever sent the request, I can’t find it in my inbox anymore. I started writing this fic so long ago, all the wips in my notes cheered when I typed in the last word. As always, Jane is the reddest redflag. Enjoy!<3

AO3 link in title

You loved Alice, you loved the way she always found a way to make you laugh. When she joined the staff at the Murdstone mansion, you immediately knew you two would be good friends.

Oh yes, you loved Alice. But not like you loved your Lady. Not like you loved Jane.

Loving Jane was like sitting in the sun after a long day of hard work. It warmed your heart and soul, making you feel incredibly alive.

Jane, on the other hand, had thought of a thousand ways to get rid of Alice. Going from simply firing her and making sure she’d never find work again all the way to wrapping her strong hands around the maid’s frail neck and squeezing until it snapped.

She would never, of course. But she was thinking about it. The thought of Alice being overly friendly and so close to you made it really hard for Jane to work through her feelings of homicidal rage.

It wasn’t fair. It was not fair that this silly little thing was allowed to spend her days by your side, making you laugh at her idiotic jokes while Jane could only spend a couple of hours with you late at night when the whole household was already asleep.

“She is being overly friendly to you, and I do not like it.” Jane groaned as you pulled the pins out of her hair.

“There is nothing more than friendship between Alice and me, Jane, you know that.” You reassured your lover, placing a soft kiss on her freckled shoulder.

“To you, perhaps! I see the way she is always trying to touch you, squeezing your shoulder as she walks by or holding onto your arm when she delivers one of her idiotic jokes. Has she never been told that we must not touch what is not ours?” The tall woman huffed, getting more agitated by the second. That silly little maid gave her murderous thoughts.

“I don’t think Alice sees me as anything more than a good friend, and even if she does…I’m yours.” You whispered, brushing your fingers through Jane’s raven locks and gently massaging her scalp.

Jane’s shoulders visibly relaxed and you pushed a soft smile, locking eyes with your lover in the mirror.

“I’m afraid I can not stay with you tonight, Jane. Mister Murdstone has asked me to be up at sunrise to run some errands, and I could use the sleep.” You gave the tall woman an apologetic smile, feeling her shoulders tense once more. You would have loved to spend the night with Jane but you barely got any sleep when you did, the two of you usually too busy making love to each other.

“Right.” She spat out, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Go back to the servant’s quarter, I bet you are craving to get back to your Alice.”

“Jane,” You tutted. “You are being rude, my love. There is nothing I want more than to spend the night in your arms, but I can’t. Not tonight.”

Jane huffed loudly, crossing her arms against her chest and refusing to look at you.

“Fine, sulk if you want.” You kissed the top of the woman’s head and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Sleep well, Jane.” You said, taking a last look at her reflection in the mirror before leaving the bedroom.

But Jane didn’t sleep well. She barely slept at all, her mind filled with thoughts of Alice’s hands on your body. It was unbearable, so much so that Jane came up with a plan. She needed that stupid girl to understand that you were hers, and she would make sure of it.

You had not expected Mister Murdstone’s errands to be taking so long to run. You had been gone from the house since sunrise and only came back around tea time, letting a sigh of relief out as you placed the heavy baskets you were carrying down. Food, clothing, newspapers, it was as if Edward Murdstone had decided that everything that could be fetched from town needed to be fetched that day.

You had barely stepped into the servant’s quarter when two hands wrapped around your waist and spun you around.

“I thought you would never be back! Thought you had run away for good!” Alice’s lips spread in a wide smile, making you laugh.

“Sure, and to go where, mm?” You shook your head. “Those errands he makes us run, they get worse every single time.”

“I know. I think he enjoys exhausting us as much as he possibly can.” Alice nodded. “Oh, Miss Murdstone has asked for me to take care of her tonight.”

Your body froze for a second and you had to take a deep breath before acting unfazed. You were about to ask for more details when a bell rang in the quarter, signalling that the Lady of the house was ready for her afternoon tea.

“Let me take care of it.” You pushed a smile and disappeared into the kitchen, quickly putting the kettle on.

A few minutes later you stepped into the study where Jane was sitting with her embroidery.

“My Lady,” You nodded, placing the tray on the table right next to her.

The tall woman barely acknowledged you as she placed her embroidery on the side and poured herself a cup of tea.

“I was made aware that you requested Alice to assist you tonight. Is my presence no longer required, my Lady?”

Jane’s eyes snapped to your face and you hoped she understood the hidden meaning behind your words. Do you not love me anymore?

“Were you made aware that your presence was no longer required?” The woman asked, her eyes slightly narrowing.

“No, my Lady.”

“Good. You shall be in my bedroom at seven sharp, as usual.” She said before taking a sip of tea and shooing you out of the room.

You knocked on the bedroom door at seven sharp, pushing it open and making your way inside only to find that Alice was already there.

“Good. Well, now that everyone is here…Sit.” Jane told Alice, pointing at the chair in the corner of the room. “Can’t you follow a simple order?! Sit!” She hissed when the maid didn’t obey fast enough.

Alice quickly walked to the chair and sat down, eyes wide in fear of what would happen to her next.

You stood still in the middle of the room as Jane circled you, feeling like a prey being hunted and played with by a predator.

“You see, Alice, you have gotten awfully close to something that belongs to me.” Jane said as she came to a stop behind you. You felt her tug at the knot on your apron before she took it off, letting it fall to the ground.

Alice watched in horror as Jane’s hands traveled to your front, groping your breasts through your dress before she moved to unbutton it.

“Did you know our little lady’s maid here loves to forgo underwear?” Jane smirked, watching Alice’s cheeks turn crimson as she opened your unbuttoned shirt to reveal your bare breasts. “Would you like to know how I know that?” The woman asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “I told her to.” She grinned and peeled your shirt from your body, letting in join your apron on the floor.

Alice tried hard not to let her eyes roam on your bare flesh, but she was unable to stop herself which only fuelled Jane’s anger.

“I told you she was interested in more than friendship.” Jane hissed in your ear, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin and your nipples to harden.

“M-Miss Murdstone-“ Alice said barely audibly. “I don’t think I should be here.”

“Quiet!” Jane barked. “Don’t you dare move from that chair or I will have you fired by tomorrow morning.”

“Jane…” You sighed and felt the woman’s fingers grab a handful of your hair before giving it a harsh tug, tilting your head so you’d look at her.

“Oh no,” She smirked. “Tonight you will address me either as Miss Murdstone or my Lady.”

She wouldn’t play nice tonight, then.

“Yes, my Lady.” You whispered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Jane almost considered indulging you, she almost pressed a kiss to your lips but quickly changed her mind. This wasn’t about your or her pleasure, it was about teaching Alice a good lesson.

“Take your skirt off.” Jane ordered, letting her hands roam on your stomach for a second before pulling away. “I doubt you are wearing anything underneath it but if you are, take those off as well.”

A deep blush crept up your chest as you pulled your skirt down and stepped out of it, revealing that you were, in fact, not wearing anything underneath it. A low chuckle came from Jane’s throat and you waited, eyes closed, for the next order when you felt her lips on your shoulder and hands on your waist, her short fingernails digging into your flesh.

“Spread your legs.” She hummed near your ear and you obeyed without a second thought, your body shuddering when one of her hands snaked from your waist to your bush, resting there for a few seconds before she finally pushed two of her fingers between your folds.

“Well, well,” Jane tutted, pulling her fingers away from you and lifting them to show off the wetness that glistened on them. “Do you like having an audience?” She smirked, her eyes locking with Alice’s as she pushed her digits into her mouth and licked them clean.

The heat coursing through your body felt unbearable, a mix of both shame and arousal that made you feel dizzy.

“Yes, my Lady.” You admitted, whining when Jane’s fingers found their way back between your legs.

“You see, Alice,” Jane looked at the girl on the chair. “This one might act like a prude around you, but she is a filthy whore.” She chuckled lowly, her other hand moving to grab one of your breasts.

Jane expertly flicked her thumb on your nipple before giving it a sharp tweak, making you cry out as your sopping wet cunt clenched around nothing.

“Careful, we wouldn’t want the whole household to know you let your Lady have you.”

Jane didn’t let you answer, choosing instead to slip her fingers deep inside you and relishing in the guttural moan that tore itself from your mouth. She let her fingers commence their skillful ballet, pulling them out of you almost entirely only to push them back in up to the hilt.

It didn’t take long for you to turn into a mess, grinding down on Jane’s fingers as she crooked them to press against the soft, spongy spot that sent lighting shooting up your spine.

Your sinful moans mixing with the wet sounds coming from between your legs only spurred Jane on, her blue eyes fixed on the maid sitting in the corner of the room with her mouth wide open.

“Why don’t you tell your little friend who you belong to, mm?” Jane’s voice echoed in your mind.

“You! Y-yours, I’m yours!” You cried out. “All yours, my Lady!”

“Mine.” Jane snarled looking at Alice, hoping the message was clear.

Her free hand joined the busy one between your legs to circle your clit as she relentlessly pounded into you and could hear yourself begging from a distance - please, please, I can not hold back anymore. It felt like an eternity before Jane finally allowed you to cum, your cunt instantly clenching around her fingers as you were pushed over the edge.

The tall woman kept pumping in and out of you for a moment until she decided that you had had enough and pulled her fingers out, giving your core a harsh slap. You fell to your knees, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, and struggled to catch your breath.

Eventually, you turned around and looked up at Jane who was now standing tall in front of you. You grabbed a handful of her black dress to steady yourself and buried your face into the soft fabric.

“Thank you, Miss Murdstone.” You managed to say with your shaky voice, making the tall woman smirk proudly.

Jane pulled away from you, snatching her dress from your hands before walking towards Alice who was still transfixed by the whole scene. She roughly grabbed the maid’s face with one hand, forcing the girl to look up at her.

“Don’t you dare say a word about what happened here tonight.” She snarled. “No one would believe you. Now get out!”

Alice didn’t have to be told twice. The young woman was on her feet in a second and scurried out of the room as quickly as she could.

“Did you have to be so harsh?” You croaked as you slowly got back on your feet, watching Jane closing the bedroom door that Alice had left open.

“Which other choice did I have?” Jane said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before moving to sit down at her dressing table. “She needed to be taught a lesson. You are mine, and she mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings.”

“Yes, my Lady,” You chuckled softly as you started taking the pins off Jane’s hair. “I’m yours.”

You weren’t really surprised the next day when entering the servant’s quarters, you heard one of the maids gossiping with the butler about how Alice had been fired by Mister Murdstone at sunrise.

It did pinch your heart a little to know you had lost a friend, but Jane was right, Alice had to learn the lesson. One mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings, certainly not Jane Murdstone’s.

————————————————————————

tag list: @weemssapphic @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @readingtheentrails @catechristiesstuff @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant

#gwendoline christie #jane murdstone x reader #jane murdstone #no beta we die like larissa #jane is a red flag but we’re colourblind #jealous women *sigh*#larissa weems x reader

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slowburningechoes · 1 year

Note

I was wondering if you could do something with like, maybe write a smut about Professor Reid x Female Student. Thanks <3

uhm, yes!!! professor reid makes me swoon cw: smut (18+, minor dni), brat!reader, unethical relationship (title ix is important babes), age gap (15 years), fantasization, mutual masturbation, oral (f!recieving), office sex, makeshift gag usage, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), breeding word count: 3.1k

secrets demand silence

Spencer knew this wasn't right - thinking of you, his top pupil, as he palmed the bulge growing in his slacks. It was an unethical and immoral concept at its core. After all, he couldn't have you and thinking of you this way just made his yearning even more unbearable.

He leaned back in his leather desk chair and tried to get the thoughts and images of you out of his mind, but the erection in his pants grew nonetheless. He couldn't help but think about the way you always sat at the front of the class wearing the cutest blouses and the shortest skirts. How you were always the first to chime in to answer his questions, rhetorical or otherwise. You had always done the reading and studied well for exams, but if you had to cram some last minute you would always come to class early with your hair pulled back with a claw clip and strands caressing the sides of your face as you stared intently at your textbook. There were so many times he wanted to bend you over the lectern right there and take you at the front of the empty lecture hall. Sometimes while he lectured, he would notice you biting down on your pencil and crossing your legs tightly and perversely, he hoped it was because you were soaking wet and thinking of him in the same inappropriate ways he thought of you. Spencer often wondered if you ever dashed to the bathroom or to your apartment to satisfy yourself from the tension those thoughts caused, just like he was doing now and like he had so many times before.

He tried to stop thinking of you, he really did - but it just didn't work. His cock was so enlarged that it was barely contained by the dark material - so, he decided to give in to temptation... once again.

Spencer knew the details of you from memory, but a little reference couldn't hurt. Thank god the institution didn't have access to his private browser history, he already had your social media pages pulled up from previous times he let his lustful thoughts control him. He had even decided his favorite picture of you: you were at some cozy little bookstore in between two aisles of shelves wearing a cream button down with a khaki v-cut sweater vest over top and a light brown plaid skirt that was just long enough to barely hit the middle of your thighs, your hair was wispy and pulled back by a matte cream claw clip and you were wearing the wide wire frame glasses that always made him take a second look. You weren't just standing there in the picture, though, you had your back plastered against one of the shelves, with your foot kicked up against the bottom and your eyes buried in a book. You looked so intelligent and beautiful, like you were in your natural habitat.

The last time he had touched himself to the thought of you was the first time he found that photo and he couldn't help dreaming about pinning you against that shelf and kissing you so deeply that the book fell from your hand and you were begging for him to touch you. That was a wonderful fantasy and one of his favorites, but after today's class Spencer's mind had created a new one.

He had started discussing a case that the BAU had worked in rural Alaska towards the end of lecture after one of your peers had asked about the places he had traveled during his work with the FBI. The conversation only scratched the surface, but it brought back the memory of the intimate homey inn and how there were limited rooms, so everyone else had to double up except him.

Now, so many years in the future, Spencer was wondering what it would be like to have to share a room like that with you. The inescapable proximity and the fact that you would be on the other side of the bathroom door with water dripping down your body as you dried off. How small the bed was and how close you would have to be because of it.

His imagination began to run wild as he freed his throbbing cock and wrapped his fist around it. He started to wonder what you wore to bed usually and how the fabric would feel when it inevitably brushed against his skin. He imagined waking up with the most strained morning wood imaginable and you making the softest whimpers in your sleep. He wondered if you would let him wake you up with a deep kiss and you would take him by surprise and straddle him.

Spencer was embarrassed that even the thought of kissing you made his dick twitch in his hand as he pumped it, but it did so desperately.

His need only increased as his imagination kept going, his eyes shut tight as he began to establish a rhythm. Spencer started to think about you grinding your core against his erection, moaning into his mouth and the wetness pooling on the area revealing that you slept without panties on. He would lift your sleep shirt to put your perfect tits on display for him before bringing one into his mouth as he bucked himself into you.

His fantasy hadn't even let him inside of you yet when his orgasm began to creep upon him at an increasing rate. Spencer's eyes were closed and his mouth was gaping as he increased the speed of his hand.

He couldn't help but let hushed mumblings of your name slip out as he worked himself with anticipation... what he didn't expect, though, was that you heard them.

You had just entered his office to see the shocking and glorious sight of Dr. Reid pleasuring himself. You hadn't knocked since he'd always said he had an "open door policy", but now you thought he may need to reconsider that. You had thought about what his cock might look like, but the reality of it was more than you could've ever dreamed of. He was lengthy, which was expected, but he was also impressively girthy. He would fill you up and stretch you out, the thought of which made your core begin to ache with a need that grew with every stroke he made down his member.

Before you could think consciously about your decision, you found yourself locking the door of his office behind you. Dr. Reid was so immersed in his self-gratification that he didn't notice the light "click" the lock had made.

The only thing that broke his trance was when you finally broke the tense heated air with a hesitant, "Doctor Reid?"

"F-fuck! Y/n?" his eyes shot open and he immediately began to panic, trying to maneuver himself back inside his pants and close out his browser before you made it around to his side of the desk - but to no avail. "W-what are you doing? Shit..."

You let your heart and sexual desire lead over your head as you came to the edge of his desk and propped your ass on top of him. Looking to your right, you saw your profile pulled up on his monitor. When you glanced down at him, his eyes were wide with shock, his cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment, and his cock still swollen and twitching with need.

"What am I doing? What are you doing, professor?" you inquire suggestively, spreading your legs open in the process, your skirt leaving little to the imagination.

"I-I," he attempted to begin his justification.

You flipped the bottom of your skirt upwards to reveal a pair of lacy black panties, which you began to rub your fingers down gently. Spencer couldn't help but suck in a tight breath and stare as you teased the outside of your need.

"Because it looks like you were jerking off to the thought of me," you hum, smirking down at him and pulling your panties to the side you reveal your bare pussy.

A hushed groan escaped him and his dick slapped against his stomach firmly. "I-I'm sorry, y/n."

"Don't be, professor... it's so hot," you dipped your middle finger between your folds and moaned softly for him, trying not to be too loud.

"Y/n..." he whimpered with a shaky voice, watching you intently. "T-this is wrong."

"Mmmm, but it feels so right," you sigh, pushing two fingers deeper inside you and moaning again. "Doesn't it?"

"Y-yes," he responded, beginning to palm his erection again.

"Don't be shy, Dr. Reid - I already saw your little show," you reassured, opening your eyes to smile at him devilishly. You circled your clit before choking out his name again with purpose and need, "Dr. Reid, please."

"Fuck, oh-okay," Spencer muttered before wrapping his fist around his length once again, pumping at a growing rhythm.

The sight of him stroking himself again made your wetness grow, your fingers motion in it eliciting the most delicious noises. The combination of those noises in combination with your moans made Spencer absolutely feral. Touching himself and watching you wasn't enough. Suddenly, he lunged forward towards you, spreading your thighs open with his hands.

"Professor!" you gasp, surprised by the contact and the strength of his grip.

"Can I taste you?" he blurts, his breath hot against your inner thighs.

You nod adamantly and begin to scoot your underwear down your legs to assist him. "Yes, please."

He hooked his fingers around the fabric and pulled them down the rest of the way before planting wet kisses along your inner thighs and up to your core. The feeling was like ecstasy, your mind was blank except for thoughts of pleasure and your body became tingly with anticipation. You were relieved when Spencer licked a stripe up your slit, dipping his tongue into you and gathering your arousal on his tongue. Just as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently, your legs snapped around either side of his head. He begin to switch between lapping at your center and taking the sensitive nub between his lips. It was excruciatingly satisfying, so much so that you gripped onto his locks firmly and subconsciously bucked your hips up into his mouth, demanding more as the pressure in your abdomen grew.

"Dr. Reid - I'm going cum," you whimpered, pressing his head against your core firmly. "Keep going, I'm begging you."

You feel him nod in agreement and moan into you as he continued to use his tongue strategically to motivate your climax. He began to devour you in a nearly animalistic manner, still methodic with his movements but with a desperation that made your thighs begin to quiver around his face. It only took him sucking gently on your clit one last time for you to fall apart, coming uncontrollably all over his face, grinding into it. You stifle your moans by biting down on your knuckle as he continues to lap at your pussy until you became numb from the excessive stimulation.

When he pulled his face from between your legs, his lips, chin, and the bottom bit of his button nose were soaked with your arousal. Plastered across his face was a mischievous smirk as he licked the arousal from his lips.

"You taste so... so fucking good, y/n," Spencer complimented, before leaning up to kiss you so that you could taste it as well.

You tried to respond as he moved away from your lips, but he was already working to remove your blouse. "I-is this okay?" he paused to ask when it was about halfway up your torso.

"You don't need to ask, professor. Anything you want to do is more than alright with me," you assure, peeling off your top to prove it to him.

Spencer stood there for a moment, staring at your breasts cupped by your beautiful black bra that matched your lacy underwear he had peeled off earlier. He reached around to your back to unsnap your bra, which he did so with ease. The fabric slipped from your shoulders and dropped from your chest, the cool air brushing against your bare skin causing your nipples to perk up and become hard.

"They're even more perfect than I imagined," he whispered, cupping them in his hands and bringing his thumb to caress your nipples.

"You've thought about them, hm, professor?" you tease, raising an eyebrow up at him. "Not a very appropriate way to think about your students, is it?"

Spencer cuts you a look of exasperation and snaps back, "Be quiet."

His demanding tone made your body writhe with warmth, "Oh, yes, sir."

"You act like you don't like me thinking of you like this, touching you like this - when you're the one who came over and put yourself on display for me," he growled.

"You were the one stroking your cock with a picture of me pulled up for reference," you responded with a sassy tone.

Your face was suddenly snatched between his hands, his thumb and fingers pushing your cheeks together. "And that made you so so wet. You know... after all the times I've fantasized about you, I never imagined you'd be such a brat."

You give him a smug look before biting you bottom lip and bringing him down for a deep passionate kiss. "Are you going to keep blabbing or are you going to fuck me?"

A loud huff came from Spencer as he leaned down to pick your panties up from the ground, stuffing them in your mouth. You gag around them slightly as they fill your mouth, muffling your teasing words.

"Since you're quiet now, I will," he whispered in your ear, sucking on your neck by your collarbone.

You moan in satisfaction, the sound barely vibrating through the fabric, your desperation making your professor chuckle smuggly. "That's much better. Can't have your loud mouth getting us caught, can we?" He spreads your legs back open, sliding the pads of his fingers in between your folds.

You shake your head "no" insistently, wanting to be good for him so that he would enter you. Your obedience worked, Spencer dropped his slacks and underwear to the floor and lined his tip up at your entrance. His dick brushing against your throbbing folds made you whine and grip onto the edge of the desk.

"I'm not even inside of you yet, beautiful," he hummed, enjoying your desperation.

He didn't wait an extra second to fill you, though, pushing his cock fully inside of you with one good stroke. You are stunned by the sudden force, his girth stretching you out with a stinging pleasure just as you had expected it would. He was much bigger than any other man you had been with and he knew exactly where to place his thrusts for maximum satisfaction for both of you. As he began to establish a pattern of his thrusts and their intensity, your walls began to squeeze around him for more. You wrap your arm around his back and scrape your nails down it with intense urgency, your simultaneous moans stifled by the makeshift gag in your mouth.

"You feel a-amazing, y/n - holy shit," Spencer struggled with his words, separated by quiet groans motivated by your pussy clenching around him. "So-so much tighter than I could've dreamt."

You smiled at his comment and looked up at his head thrown back and mouth gaping open as he fucked up into you harder. His left hand dug into your hip and the other came to tangle his fingers into the hair at the base of your head.

The deeper he pushed into you, the closer you became to reaching your second orgasm. The rhythm of his thrusts made your clit numb with pleasure, satisfying the nerves so much that you did not need external stimulation for your climax to rock into you. The grunts flowing from Spencer's lips in combination with the satisfaction made it come upon you quickly, your knees attempting to buckle together and your breaths becoming sharper. Your tightness increased, causing the cum to suddenly rush to the tip of Spencer's cock, causing his orgasm to rush into him as well.

The euphoria came crashing into both of you simultaneously, resulting in the most sloppy and melodic hushed noises you had ever heard. Your orgasm finished before his, your body tingling with satisfaction and your senses heightened.

"Y-y/n, baby - I'm going to cum in you," he muttered in between his struggled breaths.

All you could do was silently beg through the panties stuffed in your mouth, you wanted every drop of him inside of you. Thankfully, Spencer must have felt your body agree, your pussy opening deeply for his seed to spill inside. Within seconds, he was grunting lowly and coating your walls with his cum. The feeling of him flooding you was the greatest satisfaction you had felt before, warm and full.

As he came down from his own high, he looped his fingers into the lace embedded in your mouth, pulling it out slowly.

"How do you feel, beautiful?" he asks in a gentler comforting tone.

You latch onto his neck and pull him down to you for a sensual open-mouthed kiss. "Absolutely wonderful... I think I'll have to come by office hours more often."

"I think I'm going to have to change that open door policy, hm?" he suggests. "Only for you."

"Oh, you don't do this with all your students?"

Spencer responds with an eye roll and his thumb brushing down your bottom lip. "No, y/n... only you."

"What about outside of here, hm? You have some girls you meet up with when you get lonely?" you tease again, trying to gauge where this relationship was headed.

He lets out a sigh of annoyance, "Y/n. Only you - you're all I think about."

"You're all I think about, too," you blurt out in agreement.

"Mmm, so no hot college hook ups for you?" he decides to play your game.

"No... I-I've been waiting for you," you respond, tracing your fingers down his chest.

"I'm yours, if you'll have me, y/n. Let me make you dinner at my apartment," Spencer whispered, kissing your lips softly. "We - we have to keep this on the down low, but I can't go another day without you."

You smile at him and nod, "I'd love to have dinner with you, Dr. Reid. I'm yours, as well... don't worry, I graduate in May, but I'm good at keeping secrets regardless."

requests are open!

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stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

Text

summary: [y/n] is introduced into the way of omaticaya, whether she likes it or not.

neteyam x fem + metkayina!reader

a/n: whoops guess who did this instead of studying!! it’s kind of good i think actually, but it’s also kind of not good, so we shall see. and yes, this is taken from httyd whoopsies!! (also i'm pretending that ikrans have a little bit of free will) feedback, reblogs, and requests are always appreciated

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @eywas-heir

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers type of beat, fluff, [y/n] being a lil bitch but we love her so it’s okay!

take my hand

[y/n] hated the newcomers. maybe it was her refusal to bend to her father’s will, him being the right hand man of tonowari, naturally prompting him to tell his daughter to treat toruk makto and his family kindly. or, maybe it was the fact that jake sully’s children were unbearable.

[y/n] grew up close with tonowari and ronal’s children, leading her to feel particularly connected to ao’nung due to their age. sure, the boy was annoying most of the time, but he was a lovable type of annoying. the two’d quickly acclimated to the title of being ‘partners in crime,’ eventually changing to a trio when they picked up rotxo after meeting him in their younger years.

now, ten years later, the three of them sat warily on the beach, scowls glued to their depressed faces. each of them sported a good looking wound, blood dried on their lips and cheek bones. how in the world had the sully boys beaten them? embarrassing.

the silence between the three of them was deafening. they’d just taken a load of crap from tonowari and ronal, and it didn’t take long for [y/n]’s father to come storming over to her.

she’d hissed in pain as he grabbed her ear, yanking her off of the drift log that she was perched on. “what were you thinking?” he demanded, voice hushed and full of disappointment. when he was met with silence, he shook his head. “that’s what i thought. you weren’t thinking. how many times do i have to tell you to treat them like they’re one of our own? why are you so… so daft, daughter? i know you are intelligent, where has that gone?”

his words stung, but she understood where he was coming from. although she liked to pretend that she was always one-hundred percent correct, she secretly acknowledged her moral faults.

after her father left her, walking away with one last look of shame, [y/n] looked over at her two friends, still seething in self-loathing layered with the fury of their chief. she took a deep breath in, turning around. she needed to take a walk.

without another word to her friends, she began to take steps in the opposite direction. the sand was soft against her feet, the give of the ground causing her knees to lock when she took a step that happened to be a bit too deep.

she cursed at herself, anger radiating through her veins at yet another thing not going her way. but, she had to keep going. she soon found herself on the stone-paved paths that lead to the small clusters of trees standing behind the maruis.

without much thinking, she kept going, feeling the warmth from the sun on her shoulders disappear as soon as she entered the shade. birds and bugs flew around, buzzing and small chirps being heard from every angle.

it was as if she suddenly felt at peace in that moment. the change of scenery helped, of course, but so did being away from everyone and everything. it didn’t take long for her to find a particularly comforting spot, sitting down in the center of a “tree-circle.”

and then, when she had finally found peace and quiet, eyes closed as she enjoyed every second of a stress-free moment, her ears perked up. with eyes squinting and staring upwards at the sky, she watched as a creature of some sort landed on a tree, him and his rider staring down at her.

immediately, she groaned, a scowl returning to her face. “what are you doing here?” she demanded, venom laced in her words.

neteyam’s hands went up in mock defense. “nothing,” he hummed. “was just taking a flight, and i saw you. what are you doing here? in the trees?” he didn’t miss the chance to send a teasing smirk.

she furrowed her brows, lips downturned in annoyance. “you lie, stalker. and i was taking a moment to myself, but of course you had to ruin it. like you ruin everything, tree boy.” with that, [y/n] pushed herself off of the ground, brushing dirt off of her legs.

“wait!” he cried before she could walk away. surprisingly, she paused, looking back up at him. “why do you hate me? hate us? i keep trying to understand, but you are not easy to... well, understand.”

she only rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders. [y/n] chose to be difficult, especially with him. “maybe you are just an extremely unlikable person.” she shook her head, beginning to walk again.

all in one quick second, neteyam and his ikran leapt off the tree, catching the air as he soared downwards. the creature’s feet grabbed her shoulders, talons careful not to pierce her skin.

[y/n] let out a yell of fear, feeling as her feet left the ground. her words got stuck in her throat as they kept lifting upwards, gaining height. subconsciously, the girl clutched the legs of the ikran, not wanting to fall to her death.

“what are you doing?” she screamed, tears pricked in her eyes. “let go of me!” and so, he did, dropping her on the top of the tallest tree. she quickly wrapped her arms around its trunk, mouth dry and ears ringing from the wind sailing through.

“why do you hate me?” neteyam demanded again.

“i don’t know, forest boy. let me down! i am not a tree-hugger like you!” she swallowed. “please?” her voice was quiet, eyes catching his.

he let out a sigh. “please, [y/n]. i don’t understand what you have against us. we are na’vi just like you.”

“i repeat, neteyam, i do not care what you are. get me down!” her eyes were shut as she held on, whispering words of affirmation to herself, trying to convince herself she wouldn’t die.

suddenly, everything seemed to go silent, the wind calming down. she felt a hand lingering next to her shoulder, allowing her to pry her eyes open in the slightest. “take my hand,” neteyam offered quietly. “let me just… show you something, alright? and if this doesn’t convince you to stop hating me, then you can continue to think of me in any way you desire. but… give us a chance.”

hesitantly, [y/n] stared at his hand, and then, slowly but surely, she let go of the tree and grabbed it. he helped her onto his ikran, the beast rumbling beneath her. she shook from the fear of it all, but all she wanted was to be on the ground again.

once she was settled, she grabbed neteyam’s waist, arms wrapped around him. “if you kill me, i will haunt you and curse you with whatever ghostly ability i have.”

the boy chuckled. “understood.”

and then the wind picked up, the ikran’s wings spread. the tree began to top with the weight of the creature, leaning closer and closer towards the ground… before it took off straight into the sky.

[y/n] let out a bedraggled scream, feeling as they gained altitude moment by moment. she felt her weight tip backwards, and she clutched the warrior tighter, eyes squeezed tight. “neteyam!” she screamed.

“whoops, sorry,” he chuckled nervously. “he’s not, uh, usually like this.” she felt as they leveled out, feeling a little bit safer—for a moment, that is, until she heard neteyam mumble “oh no.”

and down they went. “oh my—eywa please!” she cried, taking in a deep breath right before the ikran dunked them into the cold ocean waters. three times.

“what are you doing?” neteyam cursed at his ikran. “we need her to like us!” that did not seem to help, because instead, they went straight back up, their ears popping from the change in pressure.

“and now the spinning,” he commented dryly just as the beast began to turn rapidly through the air, aimed downwards right back into the waters.

[y/n] gripped his chest at this point, face buried in his back. “okay,” she began breathlessly. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for how i’ve treated you and your family. just, please, get me off of this thing.”

and then, the ikran pulled up, leveling off.

all of a sudden, everything was calm. the wind was no longer the strongest aspect, and [y/n] could finally feel her nerves again. although still shaking, she felt safer, clutched onto the back of neteyam.

the sun was setting in front of them, the sky a gorgeous orange, contrasting the aquamarine of the ocean.

she felt as they lifted upward, slowly and smoothly. her skin was blessed with the moisture of the clouds that they soared through, her hand instinctively reaching out to feel it. [y/n] looked around in awe, the imagery feeling.. fake. it was as if she were in a story, like those kinds her mother used to tell her.

it was beautiful.

as they pulled up even farther, they reached the tops of the clouds. she gasped at the brilliance of the moment, tears touching the corners of her eyes. “neteyam,” she breathed, one arm still wrapped around his waist.

“how about that?” he teased, although he himself was feeling rather lightheaded thanks to his extremely flushed face. thank eywa she couldn’t see it.

she chuckled lightly. “i admit it, that’s pretty extraordinary.” they sat in silence, the chilled breeze allowing for her to calm down. and then, suddenly, the guilt pooled itself in her stomach.

“i’m sorry,” she began softly. “i’m sorry for who i’ve been, what i’ve done. i.. i just have been here for so long, it feels, or felt, i suppose, like letting your family in would change everything. and i don’t want change. it’s scary,” she admitted, a weight falling off her shoulders. she’d never told anyone that before, not even ao’nung.

she felt his smile from where she rested her chin on his shoulder. “i understand that more than you would think,” he whispered. “leaving your home is not at all the easiest change.”

“no,” she agreed. “it is not. and neither is flying for the first time, but it can be done, and it can be enjoyable.”

with that, they fell into a comfortable silence, her weight leaned against his as he directed his ikran through the air.

and in that moment, they both were thinking one thing. this is perfect.

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam x metkayina!reader #ao'nung #ao'nung x platonic!reader #avatar 2 x reader

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startwelve · 7 months

Text

Perfect wife… or mistress?

Pairing: Anthony Bridgertonxreader/Bedenict Bridgertonxreader Summary: You go to have tea at your friend Eloise's house, and her older brothers seem to have some interest in you. Warnings: None Note:It may be that I do two other parts, but they are two alternatives. I mean, one where you end up with Anthony and another with Benedict, if you liked how this fic turned out.

You swore you were going to pass out any minute.

An unbearable heat had settled over the City of London. And you, like all high society ladies, had splendid clothes to envy. These days you hated them.

You would quickly fan your fan of your family's distinctive color, trying not to let the sweat show on your face, as you looked out at the streets of Mayfair, sitting in your carriage. It seemed to take you forever to reach the residence of your friend Eloise Bridgerton.

You met when you were introduced into society at Queen Charlotte's ball. Your mother, as her only firstborn, was anxious to introduce you to every gentleman who came to speak to you. At first, you didn't mind, but there came a time when you felt suffocated, the corset was tighter than usual, and the sleeves of your dress itched. You needed air. When you finished dancing with a gentleman with an important title you did not know, you said goodbye and almost ran out, pretending not to.

Not far from you, a young woman was sitting on a bench, staring into the void. You recognized her, Eloise Bridgerton, sister of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Benedict Bridgerton, you knew because you had heard your cousins talking about them, eager for one of them to be her husband.

You noticed that she looked lonely, maybe, like you, overwhelmed. Carefully, hoping not to disturb her, you approached her and greeted her with a small "hello," not knowing that it would turn into a long conversation about hating this dance and the society in which you lived, the beginning of a friendship.

And there you were, going to her residence for tea.

Inside Aubrey Hall, in the living room to be exact, they sat on the sofa, Benedict drawing on a sheet of paper and Anthony reading the newspaper. Eloise was sitting next to a table with desserts and a tea set, writing in her notebook, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

Benedict frowned at her and said with a smile, "Are you expecting a suitor, Sister?"

Eloise gave him her characteristic smile and closed her notebook.

"No, I am expecting Lady Hartford," she said.

"Who is Lady Hartford?"

"My new friend I met at Queen Charlotte's ball."

"Did she introduce herself at the ball?" asked Anthony suddenly.

Benedict laughed.

Eloise was about to answer him, but was interrupted when the servant announced your arrival. Those in the room rose, Anthony quicker. They entered and Eloise walked excitedly up to them.

Anthony and Benedict couldn't take their eyes off you. You were dazzling, exquisite, beautiful….

Anthony thought that with your beauty, you would make the perfect wife.

Benedict thought that with your beauty you would be the perfect muse.

You bowed slightly as Eloise introduced them, bringing them out of their trance. When you saw them, you agreed with your cousins. These men were attractive and a good choice for husbands. But you erased those thoughts when you remembered the reason you were invited, and that one of their sisters was your new friend.

"Eloise, your house is beautiful," you complimented.

"Thank you. Now come," Eloise said as she walked over to the table of desserts and tea.

"The heat is unbearable," you complained. You grabbed the cup, took a sip and asked, "Did any suitors visit you today?"

"Fortunately not you?"

"Yes, five," you replied, laughing as you remembered what one of them told you. "One told my mother that my hips were perfect for having heirs."

You and Eloise laughed out loud. Anthony looked up and looked at you slyly, wanting to check if the comment was true.

"Are you thinking of accepting any proposals?" asked Eloise.

"Yes. I am a woman and the only daughter of a widowed mother. It is my duty to accept any proposal." This statement did not please Eloise, "Of course, I have certain requirements for my future husband."

"Which ones?"

You began to list them… many, drawing the attention of two brothers.

Could it be that you would be the perfect wife… or mistress?

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #fanfic #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton

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bkwrm523 · 2 years

Text

World’s Greatest Detective

Title: World’s Greatest Detective Rating: Explicit Pairing: Bruce Wayne/reader Word Count: 2519 Warnings: Sex in the batsuit, oral.... playful interrogation? Summary: You’re hiding something from Bruce, and he’s going to find out what. One way or another. Author’s Note: As usual, this is in no particular universe.

In your defense, it had been Clark Kent’s idea.

Apparently, the whole thing had spawned during a conversation with Lois. You weren’t sure exactly how it’d gone; probably Clark expressing a desire to do something to cheer up Bruce. Not that Bruce was unusually unhappy; he was just like that. In any case, Clark had suggested it, and either Lois hadn’t been able to talk him out of it, or Clark had shown such puppy like enthusiasm and excitement about it, that she simply hadn’t had the heart to point out the flaws in his plan.

So now here you were. Part of a collection of your boyfriend Bruce Wayne’s friends and family. Planning a surprise birthday party for him. A surprise party for someone who was often called the world’s greatest detective.

You were doomed.

So, you weren’t particularly surprised one night when Bruce started to poke at you. It was late, Bruce had finished patrol, and you, he, and Alfred were finishing up. Putting things away, going over files, cleaning armor, the usual sort of things that needed to be tied up before you three could call yourselves done for the night. Bruce had taken off his cowl, but kept the rest of the armor on for the moment as he went over files in the computer.

“You’re hiding something from me.” Bruce broke the silence. Alfred was on the other side of the cave. Within shouting distance, but not the low conversational tone Bruce was using. You were next to him, entering your share of the night’s information into another terminal next to him. Bruce was using his Batman voice, the one that made you shiver.

“Bruce, are you arguing with the files again.” You asked him without looking up, feigning misunderstanding.

“I’m talking to you.” He replied sternly. “Do you think I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” It was the usual Batman voice, but there was something...

“Wait.” You replied, pausing what you were doing to give him a surprised and amused look. “Are you using your interrogation voice on me?”

“Answer the question.”

“What did I do?!” You feigned confusion and amusement, not actual offense. No need to turn the conversation ugly. Bruce stared at you for a long moment, then hit a comms button.

“Alfred.” Bruce said.

“Yes, Master Bruce?”

“Are you about done over there? I’d like some time alone with Y/n.” “Just about,” Alfred replied, setting down what he was holding, with a faint smirk that you could just see from where you sat. He turned and walked to the exit. “Do try to keep the noise down, sir.”

And then he was gone. You couldn’t help but feel excitement and dread in the pitt of your stomach.

You stood from your chair, aimlessly straightening the papers in front of you. “I think I’m gonna go to bed, too. It’s getting-”

“Stop.” Bruce interrupted you. You froze, unable to disobey. Your eyes were fixed on the desk, too nervous to look up and see his expression. You heard him move around, stand, and the slow footfalls over to you.

“Look at me.” Bruce’s voice was firm and menacing, but soft. You obeyed.

He’d put his cowl back on. And turned the voice changer on. Fuck. He rested his hands on the desk on either side of you, caging you in, and leaned in until he was inches away.

“What aren’t you telling me.” Batman growled at you. Your breath caught, and for a moment you couldn’t speak. Any other criminal might wet themselves in this situation. You, on the other hand, were unbearably turned on.

“I, uh.” Coherent words was a bit too much to ask under the circumstances.

“Tell me what you know.” Batman growled again.

“I... there’s...”

“Tell me what this is about, and I’ll kiss you until you’re limp and weak.”

Shit.

“You-your birthday. It’s about your birthday.” You couldn’t look away from his eyes, any more than you could not answer him. Bruce moved immediately.

Both his arms lifted from the table and wrapped around you. One of them low on your back, the other cupping the back of your skull and holding you in place as his lips landed on yours and ravaged you. You clung to him, arms gripping wherever they could reach, and sunk into him, able to do nothing more than submit to his passionate kiss. His tongue was in your mouth, and you whined a little, stimulated at how helpless you felt in his arms. He growled, and one leg pushed yours apart, slotting his hips between your legs until you could feel his suit’s codpiece pressing against you. Your hands clenched on fistfuls of his suit and you moaned as he ground the codpiece into you. His arms and the desk were all that was holding you up.

By the time he released you to slump back against the desk, you were dizzy. Just as limp and weak as he’d promised. His grip on you loosened, but his arms didn’t leave you. The arm on top moved from your head down to the back of your shoulders.

“What are you planning for my birthday.” Batman demanded. His voice was still a rough growl, but it was softer after the demanding kiss.

“B- Batman, please.” You whined, unable to focus beyond the memory of his lips on you.

“Please, what.”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me what you’re planning, and I will.”

“Fuck.” You avoided his eyes. You couldn’t turn him down. “It... a surprise party, I-” he didn’t wait for you to elaborate, before he went for your neck. You gave a startled yelp as he ravaged your skin, right where he knew you were most sensitive. Your head dropped forward onto his shoulder, panting at the overwhelming stimulation.

He ground his codpiece into you, again and again, making you moan and babble into his shoulder. Time stopped functioning, and all you were aware of was the orgasm approaching. You clawed at the back of his suit, trying to leave scratches on skin that wasn’t exposed at the moment, cried his name in an attempt to warn him, but no other words would come. His stubble and teeth scraped your sensitive skin, pushing you closer to the edge until you tumbled over it, screaming his name. He kept grinding into you, pushing you higher until you finally collapsed in his arms.

Batman held you for a moment, just letting you go limp and try to recover before he continued his interrogation.

“Good girls get orgasms.” Batman murmured in your ear. You thought you’d need longer after that last orgasm, but hearing him say that in the Batman voice with the voice changer on? You were suddenly very ready to go again. His arms tightened around you, and he lifted you until you were sitting on the desk. Your shirt was swiftly pulled off. He leaned in, arms going around you to reach for the catch on your bra. The feeling of his armored hands on your bare skin made you shiver. When you felt his lips touch your neck again you gave a startled yelp, and he gave a dark chuckle before frying your brain again. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, and your hands clenched at his armor. Your thighs clenched tightly around his hips, clinging to him instinctively. One of his hands detoured from your bra clasp to trail lightly up your spine. You yelped and squirmed in his arms, drawing another dark chuckle.

He took pity on you after a moment, unlatching your bra and tossing it aside. And then... he pulled away from you, startling you. You leaned back a little, watching him curiously. He reached into a belt pouch, and pulled out a zip tie. Your breath caught and your eyes went huge. He smirked at you, easily reading your arousal at his move. He pulled your hands behind your back, and tied them in place. The zip tie was loose, though; just tight enough to hold your hands there, but loose enoguh that you’d be able to pull them free with a little determined wiggling.

Batman put one hand on your shoulder, and gently pushed you down until you were lying on your back, your legs hanging down in the air. He bent over you, resting one arm on the desk to support his weight, and attacked your nipple with lips and teeth and tongue. His free hand tweaked the remaining nipple. You squirmed and writhed on the table, instinctively trying to escape, but he’d left you nowhere to go. The sight alone of his cowl bent over your breasts was enough to make you whine for him.

Then, abruptly, he stopped. And stood. Batman turned his attention away from you for a moment, unclasped both gloves, and set them down to the side. You didn’t see exactly where. His now bare hands went to your pants, making you shiver again when his skin brushed yours so close to your pussy. He undid your pants, pulling pants and underwear off, discarding them. Then he grabbed the nearby chair, pulled it over, and sat down. Right between your parted legs. Your throat was suddenly dry at the sight of him, still in the cowl, between your legs. His eyes met yours. You felt like his prey, and you didn’t mind a bit.

“Good girls get orgasms.” Batman reminded you. He broke your gaze then, looking down at your wet and waiting pussy. Then he leaned in, and devoured you.

One arm went across your hips, pinning you down and his thumb dropped down to tease your clit. The other hand reached up your body to toy with one breast as his tongue thrust inside you.

His tongue found your gspot, rubbing against it and making your eyes roll back in your head and you thrashed on the table. He ate you out like you were his favorite meal, like he never wanted to come up for air. You squeaked and squirmed and whined his name, but there was no escaping. Batman groaned into your pussy, and you felt the vibrations stimulating you and moaned helplessly. Your hands struggled against the binds, but you weren’t escaping. You shook in his grip, and felt an orgasm rapidly approaching. You cried his name, gave broken pleas, but he never let up. You screamed, your senses overwhelmed, and jerked in his grip. You vision went white and time stopped, until he finally let you down.

It was a few moments before you came back to yourself. Bruce was leaning over you, still cowled. His face was clean, you suspected he’d wiped it off or something. His arms were planted on either side of you, and he was gently nuzzling your face, waiting for you to come back.

“Batman,” you murmured, no real intention following the word. You’d simply uttered his name out of a desire to hear it. He smiled a little and kissed you, long and gentle with slowly growing desire. The kiss continued into a long makeout, your hands struggling a little without result behind your back in a desire to touch him. He ground his pelvis into you, gently at first, until he lit another fire in you and had you squirming and whining for more.

He finally broke from your lips, letting you gasp for breath, and stood. Your eyes followed him as his hands went to his belt. You watched, breathless with anticipation as he removed just the crotch from his suit, a bit of his upper thigh plating coming with it. He pushed down the pants of his underarmor suit, just enough to reveal his cock, huge and erect and weeping for you. Your lips parted, your breathing coming hard with desire. Bruce leaned back over you, planting his arms on the desk, moving until just the tip of his cock poked your eager pussy.

“One last question.” Batman growled. You’d honestly forgotten about the voice changer until right then. You groaned and dropped your head back to the table in exhasperation.

“Batman, please-” you whined, but he didn’t wait for you to finish.

“Who was involved. In my birthday surprise.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I won’t fuck you until you tell me.” Batman growled, his voice low and tense with need. But you knew better than to hope he’d break.

“Goddamnit.” you swore. Bruce’s hips swivled against you, rubbing his cock against you just enough to remind you how it’d feel to have him buried inside you. You tried to keep your mouth shut, but damnit he felt good, and you wanted more. Needed more.

“All right all right!” You screamed, unable to resist any longer. “Clark, it was Clark’s id-” he didn’t let you finish before he plunged into you.

Slowly, letting your pussy adjust to his immense girth. You screamed his name and arched your back under him, unable to focus beyond the feeling of his cock filling you more and more, inch by inch. He finally bottomed out, and buried his face in your neck while he waited for you to adjust, giving little nips and licks occasionally. When you adjusted, you tried to wrap your legs around his hips, but your muscles felt sore and dead, and you couldn’t make them move.

“Move,” you gasped. “Please!”

Batman growled again, and obeyed.

One of his planted arms moved to your shoulders, holding you in place for his powerful thrusts to rock the desk. His teeth sunk into your neck, and you wanted more than anything to wrap your arms around him, to grasp the ears on his cowl, but your hands were still bound behind you. You tried to squirm, to arch into him, but you could barely think beyond the feeling of his thick cock pounding you beyond reasonable thought. You two had fucked with him partly in the suit before, but something about him keeping the cowl and voice changer on to interrogate you drove you wild.

Your overworked pussy didn’t last long before you were coming again, and you last consious thought before pleasure overtook you was to feel him coming inside you, and then everything went black.

You awoke in Bruce’s cot in the batcave. Cleaned up, and changed into one of Bruce’s spare button down shirts and boxers. You were lying on your side, snuggled into Bruce’s bare chest as he drew patterns on your back. He’d changed too, stripped down to nothing but his underwear. You made a small moan, alerting him that you were awake, and he looked down at you.

“Are you all right?” Bruce asked, concern creasing his forehead.

“Better than all right, after that.” You smiled up at him, soothing his worry that he’d hurt you. He smiled back at you.

“I look forward to you explaining this to Clark.” Bruce told you, looking smug. Your cheeks heated in embaressment, and you looked away from Bruce’s gaze.

“Oh no, I’m not telling him shit. You’re just gonna have to explain how you found out.”

“We’ll see.”

#fanfiction #bruce wayne #batman #bruce wayne/reader #batman/reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce waynexreader #batmanxreader #bruce wayne/reader smut #bruce wayne x reader smut #bruce waynexreader smut #batman/reader smut #bruce wayne smut #batman smut #broody mcbroodpants

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plutoccult · 7 months

Text

OUT OF THE WOODS

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

description: you were notorious for following levi’s every order without hesitation. it was practically unbearable for him, but the one time you disobey him is when he is eternally grateful.

word count: 2.8k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: this is something i’ve never done before aka write for levi! i’m hoping i haven’t strayed too far from his character, but it’s worth trying something new. i must admit, this is a little messy and i’m quite iffy about it, but i at least tried my best. i almost named this “the monsters turned out to be just trees” because i 1. love taylor swift and 2. thought those lyrics captured this almost perfectly, but i decided it was too long and just went with the song title those lyrics are from. this is something entirely new and never before posted anywhere else, but it will also be shared on ao3 as everyone has their preferences on where they like to read. as always, i hope you enjoy <3

you always obeyed levi’s every order, and god, he hated it.

“yes, captain.” you’d say. “right away, captain.” was another one of your go-to phrases. you could just… talk to him? like a normal human being? yes, he was your captain, but levi craved a normal conversation with you.

oh, wait. why did he want that so badly? why did he want to hear your voice say things other than replying to his commands for you and the squad? it’s not like he liked you. no, no! he couldn’t stand you. that’s what this was. right?

levi was particularly known for only listening to commander erwin’s orders and no one else’s, but he didn’t see himself of such importance. it wouldn’t kill you to protest a little bit for once. he even tested your obedience by demanding you glue a broken vase back together. you then proceeded to spend hours restoring it to its former glory. he was surely impressed, but at the same time, he couldn’t believe you actually did it. dare stubborn ol’ levi ever admit it, but he found it kind of cute.

when it came down to the 57th exterior scouting mission, your final order was simple; retreat back to your horses. things didn’t exactly go as hoped, and while the scouts learned something new that day, there was still so much work to do. you wished for everyone’s sake that one day you all could share a proper victory, but it didn’t seem possible just yet with something as stubborn as the female titan.

you and the rest of levi’s squad did as told, but it all went by the wayside when gunther was attacked out of the blue by a figure hidden under the disguise of your scout gear, their green hood concealing their face. there was no time to go along with the plan, now was time to fight back. the squad couldn’t let whoever killed their comrade get away.

as you all attempted to attack, the disguised assailant transformed in front of your very eyes into the female titan you all failed to successfully capture before. now this truly meant war, but the squad was simply no match for this monster.

it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. you lost your squad members one after another. you were the last one remaining, you knew this was it. this was your time to die, wasn’t it? part of you always thought it would end in the middle of battle, but not like this. this couldn’t be the end. you didn’t want it to be.

your brain struggled to catch up with everything happening so fast and hitting you all at once. it was impossible to think straight, to get your head together and fight properly. but it was also impossible to realize eren was turning into his titan form until it was too late. the impact of his transformation knocked you straight into a tree, leaving you unconscious as he avenged your fallen squad members, all while your captain had yet to head to the scene of the crime.

levi immediately knew something was wrong the second he saw the sudden glow of eren’s transformation from afar. of course there was something more to this mission. he had to get there quick before it could possibly get any worse, but his idea of “any worse” had already become true; his squad was gone.

he couldn’t do anything to stop eren just yet, levi knew that. this fight between two titan shifters was to be expected. if only the hothead wasn’t so blinded by rage. levi knew better than to let emotions get to the best of him, no matter how much it hurt seeing his squad like this, dying under his wing.

his eyes scanned the states of everyone. gunther, eld, petra, oluo, and then… you. you, who laid there motionless. the life taken out of you, or so levi thought. he couldn’t let this affect him. levi kept all emotions hidden, tucked and buried in deep where no one could find them, no one except the one person who was capable of bringing them out.

“captain…”

huh?! was his mind playing tricks on him? who dared to deceive his ears? it couldn’t be real. it was nothing. nothing at all. you were dead, levi was sure of it, just like the rest of the squad. he was left alone once again, seemingly cursed with this fate from the day he was born.

but then you let out a cough, blood coming out of your mouth and splattering onto the grass. my god, it wasn’t some sick joke from his brain. you miraculously were alive, and levi was too stubborn to let you die out.

he immediately rushed over to you and flipped you off your side so you laid on your back. you breathed heavily and coughed violently, muttering out weak apologies as blood stained your hands, but levi didn’t care. he’d stain himself over and over for your sake.

“you disobeyed orders.” levi said, trying his best to force himself to stay his usual coldhearted self, but it was a losing battle, just like today’s mission. he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes once filled with anger now becoming soft. “you disobeyed me.”

you could’ve sworn the sight in front of you was like seeing heaven. the impact from earlier made your memories quite hazy, and while you knew you weren’t dead, you sure wouldn’t hate it if this was it. levi’s head blocking the sun made him look like an angel sent from the very land itself, and it was pure bliss.

you closed your eyes with a smile on your face, unbeknownst to you what had truly occurred. to your captain, it seemed like you had left him for good this time, but when he pressed his ear against your chest, he felt the rhythm of your heart as if it were a symphony.

levi couldn’t stand to leave you like this. he had to make sure you got to safety and were treated right away. even if it took you god knows how long to recover, it didn’t matter. but with the female titan trying to take eren alive, he had to remember why he was here in the first place and attempt to clean up the mess the scouts created. you were able to hold out for a little while longer by some sort of miracle, and when levi was able to capture eren back with the help of mikasa, he took you back to where you belonged; with him and the scouts.

by the time you returned to base, you were fast asleep, worn out from the mission. as there wasn’t enough room for all those who were injured, levi took matters into his own hands and tended to your wounds himself, even giving you his bed as he had a much bigger room and it wasn’t like he slept that much anyway. it seemed almost wrong and unprofessional to do so, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish. it’s what a good captain would do anyway, right?

after what felt like ages, you finally woke up, your mind struggling to remember everything from yesterday. you grew confused as you found yourself in what wasn’t your room, and it became even more puzzling as you saw your captain sitting in a chair next to the bed waiting for you to wake up.

the look of impatience and worry was all you could read from his face and body language. his arms crossed, index finger tapping repeatedly like a drum on his bicep. he was looking away from you, watching the wind blow on the trees outside. levi had been using that view to pass the time and keep himself calm, but it didn’t really help much. only the sound of your voice was medicine to him.

“captain?”

levi lightly jumped in his seat and turned to see your face. you had been bandaged up, not a single wound left dirty. you were also quite bruised, and you immediately winced when you tried to adjust the way you sat. you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to you. if only you hadn’t hit your head so bad.

“you’re awake.” he said plainly. he didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm and freak you out, but on the inside, levi was so glad to see you were okay. the look of confusion on your face made him worry, and he felt the need to overshare and explain what was going on. “uh, this is my room. i took care of you since there wasn’t enough help.”

“oh?” you furrow your eyebrows. “what… what happened?”

“i think i could ask you the same thing, y/n.” levi replied. he had been waiting all this time to hear the truth of what happened. you saw what had happened to your fellow squad members, but with the way you lost consciousness, you had a hard time remembering it all. you could only draw blanks, and you felt as if you disappointed your captain.

“i’m… not sure. i don’t remember. i’m sorry.” you frown.

“i figured.” he sighed. he couldn’t get too mad, but part of him longed for an explanation so he could know where everything went wrong.

“where is everyone? surely petra must have helped you with this, right?” you ask, the question paining levi without you knowing a thing. “you couldn’t have done all of this by yourself.”

levi found himself unable to think about how to go with this. he wanted to let you down easy, lessen the blow, but with that look of innocence in your eyes, you just made it so damn hard for him. “y/n, they’re all gone.”

“gone?”

“gone.” he hated having it come out so harsh, but he had to get the point across without any sugarcoating. levi couldn’t lie, it would be an incredible disservice to you.

“no…” then you began to recall all that happened yesterday; the forest, that god damn female titan, it all replayed in your mind like a never ending horror movie. “no, this is all just one big nightmare. you can pinch me now, okay?”

your delusions only made it worse for levi. he couldn’t let you fool yourself thinking there was the slightest chance they weren’t gone, but he saw, he knew. all the life had been taken out of them, and whoever was behind the monster did it so cold-heartedly. it made him seem a little more humane in the eyes of his peers, as shocking as that was.

“i found all of you scattered on the ground. i thought you died just like they did.” levi said, those last few words coming out strained as he struggled to keep it together. he couldn’t let you see him like this, no way. he had to find an excuse to leave you be so he could go somewhere and let it all out without anyone seeing him.

“this can’t be, oh god.” you sob uncontrollably, making levi uncomfortable. he felt this way because it only made him want to cry with you, but at the same time, it felt wrong to feel like that.

“i can give you space to process this.” he began to stand up, but you tug on his sleeve to stop him, much to levi’s surprise.

“no, no, no. stay.” you giving him orders? he couldn’t believe it, but he would let you stop him, just for a moment.

“it is typically me who gives orders, you know.” levi spoke deliberately.

“well.” you pause, trying to find the right words. “i order you to stay.”

and just like you always did with him, he couldn’t help but obey your order. you let go of levi’s sleeve as he sat back down in his chair, too flustered to look you in the eye.

“i just… i wanna say i’m sorry i failed the squad, but most importantly, i’m sorry i failed you.” you say, your words full of utter shame, feeling like a complete failure. it was like you had just harshly tugged at levi’s heartstrings, despite it being crazy to think that levi ackerman did in fact have a heart.

“there was nothing you could do. the female titan outsmarted all of us.” he replied in that typical monotone voice. it almost started to irritate you. you were trying to have some sort of heartfelt conversation and it seemed like he couldn’t take you seriously. levi wanted to take all of it seriously, but he continuously battled with his mind and heart, and his mind kept winning.

“but it shouldn’t have happened.” you try to protest.

“we can’t turn back time, y/n.” levi argued back.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at him, a huge shock on levi’s end. “god, your words are terrible.”

“excuse me?”

“don’t you know it’s okay to feel things, captain?” you ask him. “i know they call you “humanity’s strongest soldier,” but is being emotionless a requirement?”

he’s unable to form words. where had this fire in you come from? had it been hiding this whole time? where had this disobedient soul been during the entirety of levi’s reign? he couldn’t help but be shocked yet amazed at the same time.

“that squad was like family to me.” you say with tears streaming down your face. “i thought you would’ve felt the same way, but i guess that suspicion i desperately tried to push away was right.”

“…and that is?”

“that you never liked any of us, not one bit, especially…” your lips tremble, but you force yourself to finish your sentence. “especially me.”

when you said those last two words, levi almost gasped. it made him feel so… terrible. so goddamn terrible he knew he couldn’t let his mind win anymore. it was time he chose his heart for once. “that’s nowhere near how i feel, y/n.”

“and how is it that you feel, captain?” you question, refusing to let your tears stop you from standing your ground.

this was it. this was the moment levi would pour his heart out to you. you were a rare jewel who was capable of giving him those pangs in his chest. not everyone could do that, but you sure could without trying or realizing it whatsoever.

“all my life, i thought that there was no point in caring because you’ll lose it eventually, but…” he began to speak, almost tempted to hold back, but he refused to do so any longer. “all i’ve ever been given here is a reason to care, and i didn’t want to show it. i didn’t want anyone to see it, and i wish they could know that i did. i did care, more than what’s possible to express.”

your hardened expression turned soft. to think he didn’t have such feelings made you feel so stupid. it’s easy to judge a book by its cover, isn’t it? but you read levi all wrong. oh so wrong. “you did?”

“i do, even now. that applies to you too, you know.” levi replied without shame.

“i didn’t think it did.” you avert his gaze.

“it’s almost disgraceful to admit how often you cross my mind, y/n.” your eyes widen when those words escape his mouth. was this real life? it seemed too good to be true. levi immediately thought he crossed a line, so he tried to shut the situation down as quickly as he could without ruining this moment. “i’m sorry if that came out weird, i—”

“no, no! it’s not weird!” you swiftly interrupt him. “i… i could say the same thing.”

“you could?” he said in amazement. it was like he was completely oblivious. why else were you always so eager to obey his orders and make sure you never let him down? you wanted him to notice you, and now he has given you his attention in the best way possible.

“yes, which i guess is kind of odd considering this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” you say with a faint giggle towards the end. “it’s a shame it had to be under these circumstances, really.”

“i know, and i’d like more, if you do too. it’s not an order, i swear.” levi replied eagerly, which was a pleasant surprise.

“i’d like that, captain.” you grin.

“can i… give you an order though?” he asked with a bit of hesitance.

“seems like poor timing to me, don’t you think?” you question, almost tempted to laugh at him, but you were going to see where this went.

“it’s not. i just… would prefer it if you called me levi from now on, please.” as if this couldn’t get any better. levi was saying “please” to you. god, you loved it.

“okay, levi. now i have an order for you.” you say with a smirk. “have a cup of tea with me, and you’re making it.”

levi smiled at the thought of what he would say next. “right away, y/n.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #aot levi #snk levi #levi ackerman fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #levi fanfiction #pluto writes 📝

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voidcat · 2 years

Text

— what the cat dragged in

characters: papa emeritus iii/you, cardinal copia, nameless ghouls, sister imperator

wc & genre/notes: 8.1k – strangers to friends/lovers, fluff, suggestive content (minor discussion of kinks and terzo being terzo during mummy dust. That part starts with “I’d say you’re deflecting,” and ends with the divider.) neighbors au, reader has a cat… I’ll b honest idk what else to say

a/n: this is My blog and I get to choose how cringe I want to be. Yes I said I’d not write for ghost and did it anyways after one (1) bad day. Yes this file is titled “hatehatehatemyself” on Google drive. The part after the burgundy divider is an optional ending. You can read the entire thing as platonic or slowly growing into something romantic. have fun x

Head turned left and right, looking around, no sign around.

The neighborhood is rather quiet today, the sun up and everyone out, at work or else. Rustling of grass with each breeze reaches your ears, and each time you whip your head toward the direction with hope.

In a breath, you cross the road and walk and walk and walk. It’s a long one, not unbearably so but still a little unnerving. You don’t recall many people going this way after all.

Now standing before the grand door, the little mailbox a few meters away awfully standing out, you raise your fist and knock.

And wait.

And waiting you do for almost a minute, if it weren’t for the noises you hear, a clutter of something, a shatter there and finally footsteps.

The door swings open– though it looks too heavy to be opened just like that and the man stands tall before you, forearm resting against the frame, leaning his entire weight to it, eyes barely open and you don’t need to see the barely filled bottle he holds to tell he is drunk.

The scent of alcohol reeks off him just enough.

Your nose scrunches up at the smell.

Squinting his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light coming from the sun, he doesn’t acknowledge you right away.

You doubt he has noticed you.

Isn’t it a bit too early to be drinking like this already? He looks trashed, to say the least.

Then he seems to notice you, though he makes so little movement to fix his posture, the belt tied around his waist barely doing its job to hold the robe together.

Decent on the eyes, you’d have thought for the guy, if it wasn’t for the weird face paint.

Getting too far and a little too early on the halloween spirit?

“Ah…” you clear your throat and try again. “So you see, my cat was lost and–”

“Oh perfect! That’s just lovely now.” he cuts you off, quite loud too. Head thrown back, he holds a sneer. “And what, little one ? Decided to come here and accuse us?” bottle dropped on the floor, rolls off to the side, hitting to an end by the door frame.

With both hands free, he throws them up in mockery, mimicking what you can only think to be a kid’s voice: “‘ Oh no the big bad mean satanists stole my cat and used it for their sick rituals. ’” hands dropped to his sides immediately as he is done with his imitation, he glares down at you: “Well guess what? Buzz off! As if I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with right now. Go find a more creative way to get in sherlock.”

So they were satanists after all…

Good to know you suppose, not that you care in all honesty. The whole church-like air of the building only gets more confusing for you though.

Before he can close the door to your face, you place your palm against it to stop him. “Hey!”

The force behind the door comes to a pause, probably didn’t expect you to fight back.

“Listen, Mr. Halloween or whatever poor Jack Skellington look you were going for.” you begin speaking, ignoring the way his face morphs into pure confusion. “How about you listen to people before barking assumptions at them?”

A moment of breath, the resistance behind the door ends completely and he opens it full again, waiting for you to continue but doesn’t seem all too happy.

“My cat likes to go outdoors and one of my neighbors said to me once that he often visits this place. So can I please come in?”

Seeing it written clear that you won’t be leaving any time soon, the guy sighs and steps aside. “Don’t touch anything and don’t leave my sight.”

Footsteps echoing in the hallways, you ‘pspsps’ here and there in hopes of your cat turning around but to no avail.

It’s only when passing a door that the guy pauses and curses to himself, you can hear the hints of an accent.

Turning to face him, he takes in your raised brow as a question.

“Copia has rats– pet rats. Your cat better be a vegan because I will not deal with his whole…” he gestures with his hand at nothing, “mourning or Sister Imperator’s reprimanding if a single one of them is missing.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a well behaving, domesticated cat with manners, thank you very much.” you say and turn your head with a huff.

Copia? Imperator? You have no idea who these guys are but you’re sure you can handle a couple of …dorky satanists, if the rest of them are just like this man baby at least.

You can always leave town before night too, if it comes down to it.

Only few steps away and the man watches as you disappear, yelling after you about ‘what did he say’ and all that bullshit but you couldn’t care any less because there he is, your precious baby!

All pulled up into a cozy little furry ball by the corner under a window, in what appears to be someone’s bedroom.

Pretty messy too.

The man seems to catch sight of you and say something he thinks is amusing, or sleek, from the tone he uses, though you pay no attention to his words or how they suddenly run dry. (‘ well if your eye on me the whole time, you didn’t need to make up an excuse about a lost c –’)

Picking up your cat despite his protests, you turn and thank him with a nod. His words register in your mind with a small delay.

“Maybe consider tidying up your room, what are you, twelve?” and with that, you exit his warzone of a room and walk back the path you took, with Mr. Whiskers purring in your arms the entire walk home.

The second time your cat goes missing while you’re home, you know better.

Instead of wasting hours searching around, you hike up all the way to that dreaded place and knock on the door with force and impatience.

It is a woman who answers instead.

A woman who does not seem to be the slightest bit impressed.

Staring at her bored face, you take notice of her clothes you can deem as formal for the place, the sound of fabric brushing as she crosses her arms, you snap out of it, trying to formulate the words regarding your cat and and all.

Whatever thought seems to pass her mind, you conclude that she doesnt care and watch as she leaves the door open, walking back inside. So you hurriedly follow.

“Sleek, black hair you said?” she asks, still walking ahead as you nod– shit, satanist or not, she can’t have an eye at the back of her head now; letting out a hum of affirmation you fasten your steps and try to walk by her side.

Steps come to a halt before a closed door, she knocks firmly, once.

Upon receiving no answer whatsoever, she rolls her eyes and opens the door.

They must have quite the savings you think, to have a place with soundproof walls and doors. The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin, breathy moans and all, you wonder to yourself, couldn’t your cat have picked somewhere …normal to take his afternoon naps.

Paying the scene before her eyes no mind, the woman steps in– is that who the man referred to as Sister Imperator?, and you catch her words about grabbing the darn cat now and continuing his pity party later.

The sounds of sex stop and you can hear someone walking around all the while mumbling something.

Before you can thank the woman however, she turns and walks away.

Less than a minute later the same man from before peeks out his head through the door.

Wearing a different robe this time and doing a poor job of holding your cat, though Mr. Whiskers doesn’t seem to mind, the traitor, he watches as you take the cat from his arms.

As you turn to leave and call it a day, maybe open a bottle of wine and see where the night takes you, a ‘hey!’ catches up to you from behind.

Leaning against the door frame like he did the first time, he waits for you to face him.

“Just let me know next time your cat comes over. I doubt neither you nor Sister would like to become frequent acquaintances.”

You eye him with a suspicious look. Sure the woman does seem like if she sees you 3 times a week or more for your cat, she might sacrifice you and Mr. Whiskers to Lucifer with her bare hands but hey, you cannot control who answers the door now.

As if sensing your train of thought, or, a part of it, he lets out a sigh, “My windows are pretty wide. Pretend they’re doors or something.”

“...right.” Sounds more and more reassuring with each word for sure, great , thank you Mr. Whiskers.

Then an after thought seems to follow as a whine can be heard from inside his room, “ Just – maybe let me know ahead before you come through the window, yeah ?”

“And I should do that, how?” you ask, wishing the whole encounter to be over “I don’t want you charging me if a stone happens to find its way in.”

From how he mumbles the words ‘charging’ and ‘stone’ confused, it seems to be taking him a while to register your words.

The implication of your words seem to dawn in as his face goes down “Last I checked, cellphones exist.” he states, not sounding too happy about the possible danger his precious windows may face.

“And how should I know this isn’t some weird excuse to get my number?” you sound skeptical, on the edge, probably finger hovering over that dial button to the police if it wasn’t for the cat in your arms.

At your words though, he chuckles. “I do have a girl in my bed right now, you know?”

“And my question remains unchanged.” staring at him with a dead serious expression, you watch as his amused face falls, his eyes rolling and he shoves a hand down one of his pockets, taking out a pen.

Expectant eyes on you– wait, what is up with his eyes? , he pushes off the cap, shaking his left arm so the robe’s arm can slide off, revealing his skin, waiting. Waiting for you.

“You better not send me any weird crap or call-” you state then say out your phone number.

Well, worst comes to worst, you know a good lawyer.

Third time's the charm is how the saying goes. You have your doubts but perhaps there is truth to it as the man’s ridiculous window idea works.

It takes no time to figure out Mr. Whiskers spends his afternoons there because the rays of sunlight hit just right, and right next to where he sleeps is a comfortable armchair with black and white hair decorating its surface a little.

Few steps ahead of his windows, the view of a wonderful garden has attracted your attention but you know better than to ask, or enter without permission. The amount of times you’ve dropped by increases at record speed, yet the air between you both is still tight.

He lets out a warm laugh when he gets a good look at him once, but when you ask, you get no reply. Surely this cannot be the first tuxedo cat he has ever seen in his life.

One silence after another, he must've sensed how tense and awkward it feels too, as a little after he tries to make conversation and apologize.

So they are a satanic organization, that’s fine.

You’ve always wondered as a kid about the gatherings you’d see within a distance but never bothered to check for yourself.

A rock band to spread their word and message however, now that is odd. You’re starting to think their anti church might be the most normal thing to them.

Yet you remain your silence and let him speak, listen, and try to make as much sense of them as you can because god knows you won’t be leaving this place any time soon.

He says he is– was the frontman of the band, and their beloved antipope , but was dethroned , or so he claims, few days prior to your arrival.

You can understand frustration over something you have dedicated your time and effort into, and for you to be pulled off it without a logical explanation. That explains drinking until the brain shuts down despite that scent of alcohol still stings your senses.

Nodding to his words, you take his apology and leave with Mr. Whiskers that day. He asks if you’d like to see the garden the next time your legs are dangling off the windowsill.

You accept in a heartbeat.

With the weather warming up and all, your cat seems to enjoy the garden as much as you do.

Trees and flowers of all kinds tended to with care and love, you can tell. Each arranged with care, the entire place paints a beautiful picture before your eyes, and endless too.

Same as the window, this becomes a habit too. To stroll in the garden and sit on one of the stone benches, talking or staying like this in silence.

He seems fond of Mr Whiskers for reasons unknown to you, until he pulls out a photograph of someone in what you make out to be a tuxedo of sorts, on a stage no less.

The photograph is of small scale, you cannot make out much of the details, so he takes it upon himself to explain that it is indeed him in the photo and the looks of your cat caught him by surprise because of his looks.

Without waiting for a reaction, he offers to show you the outfit he wore back then, though he sounds a little melancholic about the whole thing still.

Sure , you agree, but keep it to yourself that the regency shirt and black pants look just fine on him.

It blurs at one point you begin visiting even without Mr. Whisker’s presence in his room.

Bursting out into laughter, he looks almost offended at your reaction. “I’m sorry-” your giggles break through as you wipe off a tear, “what did you say it was again?”

“Emeritus.” he says flatly.

“Emeritus.” you repeat, this time doing a better job at containing the giggling.

“Yes, Emeritus,” he says again and adds, “The third.”

If your laughter before was loud, this is something beyond, enough to make him go deaf in comparison.

“Okay no, I’m not calling you-” you bring your hands up to finger quote, “Emeritus The Third.” you say in a serious tone. “And I’m certainly not calling you ‘papa’ or some bullshit title.” you cut in before he can get a word out.

“We’re going to need a nickname, what about ‘em’?”

“Em.” his tone asking ‘are you for real?’, his turn to repeat now.

“Okay no, that’s just as bad, give me some time to th-” hand covering his face, he just shakes his head with a sigh.

“Just call me Terzo , caro mio.”

Seeing as to no reply from you comes, he removes his hand and looks up. “It means ‘ the third ’ in Italian.”

“Oh,” you manage to say, though you do sound a little different now, perhaps you thought from his reactions you hurt him and now feel sorry about that?

“Yeah, I can do that, Terzo.” speaking with more confidence now, testing the name on your tongue, you talk more to yourself and nod your head than to him– he finds watching you act like this, how you operate and think as you talk endearing.

You find yourself liking spending time with Terzo more than you’ve realized.

Work is work, adulting is the same and sometimes relationships with friends feel dull or far away.

To say the least, he is interesting. Usually something to catch you off guard or wondering, it is guaranteed your time with him is never one to fall victim to boredom.

So he speaks of his life, of things he has done on the road and whatnot, even going as far to recreate when he tried to kick off a beach ball only to fall, basking in the waves of your laughter, even complaining to him by nighttime that your face hurts from laughing so much.

In return you feel you don’t have as exciting stories but he listens as if they’re the most wonderful things he has ever heard.

You deem them mundane and every time without a beat, he says only to you.

It comes down to, more like remembering, those scenes from when you were a kid.

He is awfully quiet that day, when you speak of seeing figures in black walking in tow, a kid or two that seemed to be your peers but how their estate in the eyes of some were off limits, and it was always at an odd time for you to be walking up there and talk with the kids.

A shame, the two of you could’ve met much earlier, yet he doesn’t voice it and you do not realize it.

Of all the things he has experienced recently, entering his room, to a bed unmade, finding you wrapped in the covers and sound asleep, would score high on Terzo’s list of things he wouldn’t expect– that is, if his brain could even muster up such a scene.

He doesn't need to, though, as it becomes real before his eyes and he makes way for the loveseat that night.

He doesn’t pry about it and all you say under your breath is that you felt lonely.

‘What about Wh-’ before he can ask, you open the covers partly to reveal that Mr. Whiskers is indeed with you, in his bed.

He just hopes the cat won’t switch his usual spot for his bed when he comes next time.

The nightly visits from you start to occur more, by the third time he knows it’ll become another constant, though not as frequent.

You do appear upset that he has to sleep on the couch, yet he waves his hand dismissively, that he doesn’t mind– he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or cross any unnamed boundaries. Which is a little outside the usual for him, he is known for being bold, for holding and kissing hands and doing much more when he can even smell from a kilometer away the slightest of interest the other party has in him.

The next time it repeats, he is startled by a sudden noise as he makes for the couch as always. Turning on his heel only to see you patting the spot next to you in his bed.

Sure, it is a spacious bed, more than enough space for the both of you, and Mr. Whiskers, yet he still feels tense about the whole situation.

What if he wraps an arm around you or something in his sleep and you wake up angry, that he jumped into conclusions, that this wasn’t what you wanted at all and that you’ll never visit again and file a restra–

“You think too much.”

You draw him out of his pocket sized crisis with few words and a flock on his forehead. “Keep doing that and you’ll end up with wrinkles in no time.”

What else can he do but chuckle at that and sink into sleep, safe and sound?

Wine is a skillful loosener, as the two of you rediscover together.

On days you stick around for longer, he makes his offer– though you refuse it as much as you can.

Despite dropping by unannounced after a while, you haven't walked into any intimate moments. And against your initial claim, your phone does get bombarded, usually photos of Mr. Whiskers when Terzo catches a glimpse of him, or when he thinks he is being adorable.

The latter is worse, because Terzo always finds him adorable once he warms up to the cat. The way he acts through text makes you picture him lying on the floor, hands supporting his chin, legs behind him dangling in the air, watching the unknowing cat as he sleeps or does the most mundane cat thing anyone can think of.

Neither of you are aware just how fascinating mundane is to him.

You can sense his pout from meters away.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” you put down the stacked papers. “What is it?”

Crossing his arms, he turns away partially, grumbling under his breath, “I don’t know what youre talking about.”

Getting closer to Terzo means many things, witnessing the absolute manchild that resides in him included.

Picking up your phone to turn the volume down, your eyes find his figure again– either he resembles Mr. Whiskers more than you gave them credit for or your time spent with him making you delusional. “Out with it already,” his form shrinks only further, “or no more visits from me or Mr. Whiskers.”

Now that , gets his attention.

Eyes focused somewhere near your face intentionally, he almost appears reluctant to say the words.

“How come you never listen to any of my songs?”

It takes you few seconds longer to register his words.

Before you can answer, he begins rambling, so rushed and in a whisper, all you can hear is few words in italian, which you’re sure are curses slipping his tongue and terms of endearment.

“I just… forgot?” you offer with a shrug.

Okay, maybe not the best response as this gets him to throw his arms into air, “ mio satana , you are unbelievable.” a finger pokes into your side, you haven't even realized he already crossed the distance between you both.

So he gets jealous when you listen to other musicians, huh , you save the information for future use.

As you begin laughing, he chuckles, muttering under his breath. “I guess, I’ll have to bring a ritual to your feet.”

It goes unknown to you that Terzo semi-regularly orders cat food for Mr. Whiskers, not that the cat ever seemed to be hungry when he was there, but hey, cannot hurt to try. If the cat only decides to visit him, with you in cue, more often, now there is no harm in that.

Another thing unbeknownst to you, is that, despite the distance between their estate and your house, Terzo can spot your lights without much effort.

If he were to dramatize the entire thing between you both and more, he’d refer to it as a beacon of light. But he doesn’t need to, because there is nothing more to what it is between the two of you, even if unnamed, even when he cannot help wondering “ what if …”, wondering if he is misinterpreting things.

So when he doesn’t see the lights turn on by the night time one evening, he doesn’t care, maybe the power went out, maybe you just want to try something different for a change. He certainly doesn’t care in the morning when he sees a second figure come out of the door, or when you drop by later that evening, a throbbing headache and ‘ long day at work’ you just murmur as you fall asleep on his shoulder.

You accept the wine when you're taking another stroll in the gardens.

With the weather beginning to cool down, you welcome its warmth to your very bones.

Booze loosens your tongue first, and soon your senses, your train of thought. Whether it’s a good thing or not that you’re not the only victim… you don't know.

“Was it worth it at least?” he muses as you’re seated on the same bench, glasses sat on the ground.

You twist your face, trying to recall, “Once I tuned his voice out, yeah I guess?” he snorts at your words, “Isn’t this the usual case?”

“Nah,” you drag the word as you reach for your glass, “He could also suck in bed. So the entire night wasn’t a waste I suppose. Never going back to that place though, I’m picky for a reason.”

You say the words more to yourself as a mantra than anything, Terzo watching you with a giggle hanging on his lips.

“Bad drinks as well?”

“It’d be charity to call them as such, ugh,” with a sigh, you drink down the remaining half of your wine, tipping the empty glass to his direction.

Taking your glass, he switches it with his and you take no time to bring it back to your lips.

“But this?” you raise the glass, “now that is a quality product.”

With another chuckle, he reaches for the bottle and fills the empty glass in his hand.

The topic of your recent and unfortunate endeavors morph into complaining about work, people in the streets, weird posts on the internet and whatnot.

“Okay, okay,” you try to speak inbetween laughter, “so what about weird preferences when it comes to sex?”

He just gives you a teasing smirk as you place your finger on his lips as a means to shush him “we already know weird shit and food combinations the other likes, consider this a slight change of topic.”

“I’d say you’re deflecting, but alright, I’ll buy.” he shrugs, throwing his head back to drink from the bottle– the glasses cast aside an hour or so ago.

“Any kink you can think of, I’m most likely into already, so just ask me yourself.”

You bring a finger to your chin, contemplating what to say for a moment, “Socks stay on or?..” you let your voice trail off, gazing at him from the side with a smile.

Bringing a hand over his heart and another against his forehead, he faces you fully and lets out a loud gasp. “Caro mio! You wound me. I might be the antipope but I am not a lunatic!”

He opens one eye to seize your reaction, and when your gazes meet, both of you burst into laughter.

“But the face paint stays on, no?” you gesture to your face once you stop clutching your stomach.

“Everyone has a preference, tesero.” he shrugs.

Considering his position and the closest people he can find to fuck, it does add up, you suppose.

“Now enough about me, what about you ?” He leans in to you, flashing his teeth. Not letting him get to him, you snatch the bottle from his hand.

“What about me, indeed huh? Just your basic, vanilla bullshit.” you close your eyes as you gulp down the wine.

Your comment only ignites him further, with another chuckle, he scoots closer, “You? Vanilla? I’d beg to differ,” and again, with the poking to your sides, he pleads “Don’t keep your papa waiting now.” “Okay first of all–”

You snap your head to him, only to be nose to nose, “ Not the ‘p’ word, we went over that ages ago, not calling you that.”

“Only because you’re being such a tease,” he sing-songs, his head thrown back.

“You are such a child,” you mumble as you place the bottle between your legs, hands gripping its neck.

“Biting, I suppose.” You can hear him open an eye and look your way, “Nothing extreme as I said, but people aren’t exactly dying to be covered in red and purple, you know?”

“No, I wouldn’t.” he answers, “their loss.”

You can sense he wants to pry further but keeps himself, and hell , the wine is good, there is another bottle waiting by his foot, and compared to the amount of black mail-level footage of him you've got, this feels like nothing.

“Taking risks.” you say in a whisper, partially hoping he doesn’t hear.

“Now, this falls vague, bella.” he says. “Risks of conceiving, catching STDS–” he begins counting with a finger,

“ No ! I said risks , not being an idiot.” You cut in, a hand covering your face.

You know he is waiting with that smug smirk, “risks of getting caught, like, dunno , semi public spaces and the likes?” you ask more than speak, meeting his gaze as you finish speaking.

“So that’s where the biting comes,” he speaks in a knowing tone, “leaving telltale marks blooming everywhere?” he muses as his hand begins to move, finger grazing against your skin.

“Like this?” he asks, hand going up and drawing patterns on your thigh, slowly going up, his eyes gauging your expression.

“...yeah” you say in a breath, letting his hand reach the inner side of your thigh. A finger flicks against the bottle, drawing out a trembling note, making your eyes flash though all your times here, you never saw anyone else in the gardens.

The bottle has long gone warm but his hand feels cold against your leg, you’re aware of his eyes locked on your face yet make no haste to draw yours away from the plants up ahead.

His hand begins to travel upwards, making way to fiddle with the hem, going under and his skin meeting yours.

Before he can do anything further however, you both jolt with the sudden noise coming from behind, between the windows.

“Cazzo!” he mutters and gets up, making way to enter his room through the windows.

While waiting for him, you go for the other bottle, pouring yourself some more wine, at least with a glass, you can keep count.

Pausing to listen around, you hear the commotion has died down.

Picking up the other glass and hoisting the empty bottle under your arm, you make way for the stained glass windows you’ve grown familiar with over the course of time.

Terzo doesn't seem to pay much mind to the interruption though, the conversation picks up from where it left, now talking in a more general sense.

“You give off vibes of someone who’d make a sex playlist,” you begin as he listens with a nod, “ and add your songs to it.”

“As I said gioia, everyone has their preferences.” he reaches to take the bottle from you, not expecting your arm to draw back, “yet I cannot help but be upset,” he sheds a nonexistent tear, “that you think my thrust game is so weak.”

Seeing as you freeze at his words, he takes a step to you, grabbing the bottle from your hand with a smile and places it down, not stepping back afterwards. “If you want a demonstration though, I am always happy to help.”

As if your silence was anything to go by, now it is deafening, the warmth and flush of your skin; you’re unsure if the cause is alcohol or him .

“And I did promise a demonstration of my songs to you before, didn’t I?” he says as he takes another step your way.

“So you see, we got this fan favorite song, Mummy Dust,” he speaks while pretending to be interested in the ceiling, gesturing with a hand in the air, “but not because of the lyrics.” he remarks with a smug expression, redirecting his gaze to you as he takes another step, barely any space left separating the two of you.

You’re unsure what to say or do, when left alone in a room with a bunch of people wearing identical masks.

You think, Terzo must’ve pulled a rope here and there, or acted in secrecy considering his sudden drop of position in the band, to have gotten into this studio– and bringing you no less.

The people he referred to as Nameless Ghouls stare at you, and you back at them. You can imagine the confusion they must be going through.

Then the man of the hour reappears with a clap of hands, dressed up in an outfit resembling a suit, and his previous remark at Mr. Whiskers suddenly comes back to you, finally making sense.

A concert– or a ritual, as he put it, he promised and one he delivers.

A ghoul begins playing his guitar in sync with the drums, as two of them walk to stand at their both sides and with a sudden stomp of foot, they all play in, in a fashion you can describe as ‘ knocking the wind out of your lungs .’

Only when Terzo’s singing, and soon the instruments coming to a stop that you realize you've been holding your breath the whole time. And quickly find out you may as well die due to lack of oxygen by the time the day comes to an end if they only keep up this momentum.

One song after another, they captivate you gradually. Be it the way the ghouls play or the way Terzo moves as he sings, radiating with energy. Walking around and messing up with one another, bothering each other at times– it all creates the illusion of a found family.

Briefly moving his hand, the ghouls pick acoustic guitars once another song comes to an end.

After each song he tells its name and some information– or funny memories he finds important you know.

With a signal of his hand, the ghouls switch to acoustic guitars and Terzo begins humming: “a one, a two, three, and four.“

With a move of his hand, they all enter the song.

One hand in a fist, resting against his hip and the other in front of him, he sways his hips softly as he sings.

It doesn’t miss your attention how some of his moves arent as innocent or random as they seem– when he brings his other hand to join the stray one, hoisting them up in the air as if holding something, or how after he holds the microphone with one hand and violates the poor stand with his fingers. Hands thrown into the air and shaking in the air as a ta-da once in a while, he takes a step back to point at one of the ghouls’ playing.

The song comes to an end and you think you’ve done good so far– then he decides to announce that the song is called Jigolo Har Meggido and you burst into laughter, leaving the men in the room utterly confused.

It takes several minutes for you to gather yourself, wipe away the tears all the while ignoring Terzo hovering over you with concern, unsure whether to approach you or leave you be in your violent laughter.

“I’m sorry-” your words die in your throat as another wave of laughter takes over again, “it’s just-” hand clutching over your stomach, you do your best to look up, “you do re-”, meeting his face only makes you laugh again.

A tap on your shoulder distracts you a little. Taking the water bottle one of the ghouls have brought to you, in your frenzy you didn’t even realize him leaving, you take a few sips to calm your nerves.

“I know you’re flirty and all, but witnessing you calling yourself a manwhore caught me off guard.”

Definitely not something worth laughing to that extent over, Terzo doesn’t say a word and instead flashes you a toothy grin.

“You’d be surprised to hear it was his brother who wrote this song.” you hear someone say, the same ghoul from before.

“Ah!” Terzo waves a hand dismissively in the air, “enough talk of that geezer. Now , what do you say to a grammy winning original?”

The ghouls slowly begin as Terzo walks back, their eyes on him and his hands, watching every move and tilt, following his guidance. Compared to the other songs they’ve played so far, this one comes off much softer, gentler, making you wonder what will come next.

Raising both hands in the air as if in praise, the ghouls all stop and silence takes over, waiting, and with his signal, they enter the song, picking up stronger than where they left off.

The melody matches the lyrics somewhat, the impression of a thunder, it builds up and carries smoothly.

He begins singing what you assume to be the second verse, drawing closer to you at a steady pace. His voice becomes the only thing you hear as the instruments falter and die out, quietening one by one. The microphone now held in his left, his right hand reaches out to hold yours, bringing it up near his face as he keeps singing: “ Can't you see that you're lost without me?”

And with it, they all reenter the song with a bang, your hand still in his, Terzo kisses the back of it in between lyrics and steps back to his initial position.

Drumming his fingers in the air, swaying them at the direction of either of the ghouls, they all circle around the keyboard playing ghoul as the song shifts into an instrumental part.

Eyes never leaving theirs, especially not his, not when he makes sure to lock his with you, you watch the entire performance almost in a trance, mind going blank.

When the song ends, you can see his expectant looks on you, already beaming with whatever compliment he’s positive you’ll be giving him.

So you decide to pick the teasing route.

“It was nice.” he stares at you, his face clearly showing he wasn’t waiting to hear that. “Nice?..”

Humming in affirmation, you nod your head. “Yeah, nice.” tilting your head to the side, you speak up, “ Say , this helps you get some?”

The man stands there, blinking at you for what feels like eternity.

The ghouls in a similar stance, though you’re sure you’ve heard one of them snort, and another snicker.

The eternity ends with a shake of his head and a faint smile on his face. “Yes, sorella , it helps me …get plenty actually.” he uses your phrase.

“Well,” he clicks his tongue as he places the microphone back to its place, “if it’s a …meretricious song you desire, how about I give you,” his pace of speaking slows down, as if holding his breath, waiting for imaginary drum rolls: “Mummy Dust!” He drags the words in a low grumble, shaking his hands in the air once again.

From how he starts swaying and moving his hips, you immediately recognize the song.

As Terzo begins singing, the sound of a door opening and clicking close reach your ears and when you twist halfway in your seat, you see a man with pencil stache dressed up in black, his hat partially resembling a bat, same painted eyes and upper lip like Terzo yet lacking the rest of the face paint.

The man stills in place when he sees you, only gets his feet to move again when you pat the vacant spot near you.

Whispering greetings back and forth, you immediately remember his name.

“Ah you’re the Cardinal!” Your voice comes out a tad more excited than expected. The man on the other hand seems confused as to how you know him already.

“How are your rats? Happy, I hope. I am so sorry, I never got the chance to apologize to you or to them because of Mr. Whiskers.” The words leave your lips in a breath, leaving the man dumbfounded, repeating your cat’s name in confusion and unaware,

“ah, I-, my most sincere apologies, who?..”

“Mr. Whiskers, my cat, didn't Terzo t- oh.” Unfortunately the mention of a cat before you can stop makes his eyes go wide, and you try your best to assure him that your cat didnt even set foot into his room, somewhat calming the anxious man down.

The music on the other hand, as well as the singing, gets louder and a tad more aggressive.

Probably unhappy with how your attention was led somewhere other than him. So needy and grumpy, spoiled like a cat.

“Uh, we can save our discussing for after the song?” Cardinal suggests, to which you nod. “I'd hate to impose on this- uh, special performance his excellency was displaying for you.” He says, coughing on his words at the way Terzo moves.

“Its alright Cardinal. I was given a demonstration of this song already, I am not missing out on anything.”

Again, you must’ve said something wrong, because instead of relaxing, the Cardinal’s face tenses up and goes bright red.

“ Oh !” You wince, “poor choice of words on my behalf. That's not what I meant.” You try to offer an explanation with a sheepish smile, but to no avail.

At least Terzo looks quite pleased with the interaction, as clear from the smug expression taking over his face.

The previous incident– goes unaddressed between the two of you but the air between doesnt waver.

Still, it must have triggered some sort of change, you conclude, as Terzo’s texting habits only evolve into a different stage.

Sure, it went for quite a while that the initial purpose of exchanging numbers was abandoned yet he still possessed control, a sense of self restraint, when texting you.

Definitely the absolute opposite of whatever it is going on as of now.

Maybe you’ve spoiled him too much, your brain reaches another conclusion as the lips on your skin snap that thought in the middle, pulling you back into reality.

You still don’t visit him as regular as to say daily, or even biweekly– so you hold onto the benefit of doubt that he has absolutely no way of knowing youre busy trying to have a nice night, focused on pleasure and the feeling of euphoria–

Another vibrating sound against your nightstand cuts into the air, your sceeen lightning up right after.

You ignore it only so far until you find yourself scrolling and typing up a reply, the light coming from the screen reflecting against you and the man you’ve forgotten about already.

As you smile at his newest text, hearing that stupid whining of his voice and the pout, someone next to you clears his throat, snapping you back.

“Anything I should know about?” He only asks and in all honesty , you cannot blame the guy. You’d have reaches into equally ugly assumptions, were this to happen to you.

But it didnt, and it isn’t right now, so its only a little too late that you put yourself in his shoes.

“Nope.” You say, walking up to your bookshelf and placing the phone screen down, “just a friend.”

The guy hums, sounding skeptical but doesn't pry.

You give him the benefit of the doubt but few too many repeats and you know it's intentional.

You did spoil him too much it seems.

Another afternoon by his side, you're sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked under yourself, he is busy on the other side of the room, who knows what he is preparing this time.

“Wine?” he turns on his heel, holding a glass and the bottle’s neck tilted slightly already.

“None for me, thank you.”

Eyebrows raised in curiosity, a scheming expression takes over. “Ooh? Any plans for tonight?” He inquires. You don’t need to know that he is dreading the confirmation that'll leave your lips.

“I guess,” you shrug, turning to look outside the window, “promised Steve we’d spend the night together.”

Heavy silence spreads from your words and takes over the room.

The teasing remarks signature to his natural charm never comes and you turn your head to see if he even heard you in the first place… or left the room before you spoke… or somehow passed out in silence as you spoke.

Your worries ease upon seeing him standing there, still, not even a muscle moved from his last position, unreadable eyes staring at you.

Only when you tilt your head towards, asking ‘what’s wrong?’ and only then he snaps out of whatever trance he was in, coughs and tried to laugh it off with a ‘ have fun’ , pouring himself a glass.

Unbelievable.

Discreetly taking a sip from his wine to distract himself doesn't do much to ease him and the now unimpressed look you're giving him makes even the wine taste bitter on his tongue.

“Wh-“ “you are unbelievable.”

Okay, you don't just seem pissed, disappointed?, something definitely negative; you sound like it too.

“For wishing my friend a fun night?” And with a guy he has never heard you mention before– the word friend stings to say. “I’m sure Steve is a good gu-“ “ Again,” you dont let him finish, “you are unbelievable, absolutely childish and overall a great idiot.”

Okay now you're just being mean. A scowl makes its way to his face before he can even notice, making you shake your head in disbelief like a mother scolding her kids with a smile.

“If youre done with the insults cara,” he says and raises his glass, appearing pissed and upset as he downs the glass.

“Terzo, you met Steve.” His head snaps up at your words. “Steve?“ you repeat in question, “Steve Whiskers?” ‘ ring any bells? ’ He can hear you say in following–

The faint smile of yours slowly evolve in a giggle as you watch the gears turn in his head and finally connect the two and two together.

“The cat?!” His voice comes out louder than he meant to, suddenly straightening up and wiping invisible dust off his clothes, he clears his throat.

“Excuse me for my sudden input of volume.” You reply with a smile, “Send my best regards to Mr. Whiskers.”

You see the ghouls around few more times you're in the perimeter, as well as the scary woman from before.

Sitting in the gardens with Terzo again one warm afternoon and she passes in the distance, her eye catching sight of you no doubt.

Jumping in your stead, you rush to where she is. Terzo watches as you speak with more animatic gestures, Sister remaining stoic as always. You bring a hand up to scratch your head in unease, then holding out a box of sorts. As you are about to turn, he sees your body beam , most likely at something Sister has said as she walks away.

You pattle back to where he waits, trying to contain a big smile and pulling out few cookies from behind in surprise. Just as he does with anything else you offer, he devours the cookies, making sure to express his gratitude and worship before and after.

You settle back next to him, laughing at the way he acts as he ignores the crumbs on his thighs, resting your head against his shoulder and relaxing.

Yet you never tell him what it was Sister Imperator has said to you that got you in high spirits; not then, not later.

When you wake up with the sunlight grazing your face from the wrong direction, your first instinct is to return to sleep.

Having falling asleep by Terzo's side a reasonable amount of times now, it feels just as comfortable as your room. Despite his chest not being as soft as your pillow, the comfort of his mattress easily beating yours makes up for the loss.

Just as a content smile makes its way to your lips and you, more than eager to return to sleep, the situation of now sinks in and you can feel the warmth drain from your entire body.

Sure, this is not the first time you've found yourself falling asleep here, even in his arms, limbs tangled up no less; but all those instances contain one huge difference from the predicament you find yourself in now and it is last night.

Maybe you should pretend to stay asleep until he is summoned for anything, but the chances of this are dangerously slim. The light coming from between the curtains doesn't burn into your eyes just yet so it must still be fairly early, maybe you can sneak out before he can return from the land of dreaming. But that'd would leave bigger problems for future you and frankly? future you has gotten sick of your 'dancing around with nothing acknowledged' bullshit.

You take a deep breath, and shut your eyes further– hey perhaps they'll glue themselves together from how tight your muscles are contracting and with your sudden admittance to the hospital and the emergencu of the entire situation, it'll all get forgo–

A sudden noise stops your entire thought process crashing. A trainwreck, yes that's what this is.

Sucking a sharp breathe in, you think 'now or never', suck it up once and face on with courage.

Creaking one eye open and meeting Terzo's eyes on yours, every single muscle in his face loosened and his expression what you can only describe as to be 'at peace', all your anxiety from bare seconds ago gets washed down the drain.

And for the first time in a long while, you allow yourself to relax, fully, and bask in whatever the future– and he, along with it, will offer you.

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starkskeep · 1 year

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But if you hold me without hurting me (r. stark)

But if you hold me without hurting me r. stark imagine

Pt. 5 of Oh, all I used to do was pray, Right when I felt the moment stop, And I might be ok, but I'm not fine at all, And the life I gave away

Pairings - Robb Stark x female!Reader

Summary - You have a long-awaited conversation with Robb. It changes things between the two of you.

Word Count - 1,133 words

Warnings - Angst, Possibly unbearable cheesiness

A/N - I broke the Taylor Swift title streak. In my defense, I have been a LDR stan since middle school and Cinnamon Girl makes me sob every time I listen to it.

Songs I listened to while writing: Like Real People Do (Hozier), Cinnamon Girl, Carmen (Lana Del Rey), Me and My Husband (Mitski)

Robb feels his heart start to beat erratically as he watches you and Jon. It is obvious that you care deeply about Jon as he does you. Robb knows that he has walked in on something private, feeling jealous but also wishing that he could be the one to comfort you as such. Your moment with Jon is interrupted when Robb clears his throat in order to make you aware of his entrance into your chambers. The sound startles you and causes you to turn in Robb’s direction. Jon also turns to look at Robb, his expression wary that Robb would misinterpret the scene.

Robb begins to speak slowly but his voice cracks ever so slightly, his heart contracting in his chest due to an onslaught of emotions. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You quickly regain your composure. “No, my lord husband, you are not. I lost a letter earlier today. Jon has calmed me down and agreed to help look for it.” You dismiss Jon from your chambers, assuring him that you will be okay.

Jon locks eyes with Robb as he leaves. Tensions eased between him and Robb once he saw Robb trying to fix everything. However, Jon still continues to be an advocate for you. His brother looks back at him, eyes filled with questions he knows Jon cannot answer. Robb just needs to know that you are going to be okay, regardless of what happened.

Your husband takes a step closer to you. He looks into your eyes, searching for the pain that he knows must be there. You are a strong woman but no one should be subjected to the kind of abuse that the letter contained. As he moves closer, you notice the letter crumpled in Robb’s fist. “Ah. It seems as I I do not need to search for the letter.” You say with a sad smile, “I take it that you have seen what my father thinks of me?”

Looking down at the letter once again, Robb scowls. The fury that had been burning inside of him returns to the surface. His head shakes in disgust and he quickly closes his fist tighter around the letter, as if the action would make the item disappear from existence. Robb nods once in acknowledgment of her question. “I did. It is nothing less than disgraceful.” He draws his eyes up to meet yours. Robb’s voice shakes with thinly veiled anger. “Your father is a cruel, cruel man. To say such things to you, his own daughter…well, it is unforgivable.” He says the last word through gritted teeth.

You motion for Robb to sit next to you. In your almost year of marriage, this is the first time that you have actually asked him to be near you. It seems as if he has realized this fact as well if his hesitancy is anything to go off of. Robb’s nervous movements are in stark contrast to your controlled stillness. A couple moments pass between you two before you begin to talk. Long-awaited and much-needed words begin this conversation. “It’s cruel but what he says is true. I have failed in my duty as a wife. I should have given you an heir by now.”

Completely stunned is how the maesters would describe Robb if they were here to record this meeting. You are still calling him your husband, even after everything he has done, but you are voicing something that Robb would never want to believe. Yes, it is a wife’s and therefore your duty to give him an heir, but he would never, never force you to conceive if you were not yet ready. He turns to face the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames as he realizes how truly damaged you have been from a childhood in the Frey household and the months as his wife. Both of you have tried to do everything that has been expected of you, yet it is you who has suffered the most and continues to endure. Robb is angry at the world. Angry at the cruel words of your father. Angry at himself for the way he has treated you. Sighing deeply, he speaks after gathering his emotions. “Do not let them make you believe that this is your fault. It takes two to make a child. I am just as much to blame for the situation we find ourselves in…”

Robb’s words trail off when he feels you place your head on his shoulder. It seems to be a night of firsts. Much like you never asked him to be near you, you have never initiated any sort of physical comfort. You both enjoy the feeling until you bring Robb back to reality with your voice breaking the silence. “I don’t blame you for anything. I want you to know that. You were forced to marry me, forced to make me your queen, while you still loved Talisa. Why would you want to leave her side for a Frey, especially when Talisa was carrying your child? I ruined your life.”

Feeling a tear soak into the shoulder of his tunic, Robb tilts your head up so he can see you clearly. “You didn’t ruin my life. I made a deal with your father. I knew what I was agreeing to when I crossed the bridge.” He reaches his thumb to brush the tears off your face. “This is not your burden to bear. It is something we must share. Something we must work through so that we can grow together. Something I should have worked harder on at the beginning of our marriage.” Your husband sighs deeply and shakes his head, trying to accept how much he has just spoken. Robb comes to the startling realization that he has never voiced this sentiment to you before, much less even admitted it to himself.

“Thank you. I need to hear those words said to me.” You say and place a gentle kiss on Robb’s cheek. A blush spreads across your face as you do so.

He freezes when he feels your lips brush against his skin. A matching pink tint blotches his cheeks like yours did. This is the first time you have shown affection for him and it feels…good. Robb smiles and leans over to place a kiss on your forehead, wanting to continue this newfound physical affection that you have started. “I’m here for you. I know I haven’t been in the past, but from this moment forward, I will always be here for you my queen.” The increased presence of his Northern accent betrays the emotions that are overwhelming him. Staring into your eyes, his gaze reveals nothing but honesty and sincerity in his gaze. Robb meant every word he said to you tonight.

A/N - Once again, thank you so much for reading. My ask box is always open for requests, comments, or if just want to gush about our lovely Stark boys.

#robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark

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cowyolks · 1 year

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter Five. My Bride

Prev. Chapter Four Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: This took so long because I’m sicker than a damn dog. I dipped the pot in a little angst this chapter so let me know if a few tears were shed! Sorry if this chapter is choppy lol.

Poseidon and Zeus left shortly after Simon had essentially claimed you as his. It was terrifying in all aspects, especially the chilling glare that Zeus sent towards Simon.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, mate.”

Simon’s gloved hand still cupped into your neck, warmth spilling from the fabric as he squeezed your flesh delicately.

“I do. Anyone that denies can see to me personally and feel my blade upon their necks.” His threat ran chill, just as Zeus nodded solemnly, disappearing with a flicker of lightening.

“I look forward to seeing you again, mortal. Maybe under different circumstances.” Poseidon spoke with a hint of caution, before turning to Simon.

“Brother…”

Simon dropped his tense posture at your side, bowing his head down slightly in a sign of respect. Poseidon fizzled into the air like a warm mist, only the scent of saltwater left in his wake.

Then there was silence.

Unbearably awkward silence.

“A conversation is due, sponsa mea, come along.” He spoke lowly while turning. He began to walk to the doors, the wings that sprouted from his back folded and retracted, almost as if they didn’t exist. It made your step falter, and for Simon to look back with amusement in his eyes.

“Come darling, and I’ll answer any question that falls from your lips.”

This quirked your interest. Honestly, it made relief paint across your features. Finally, your mind could rest.

The God opened the large doors easily, taking a peak over his shoulder to make sure you were still following. One of his steps were three of yours, his giant frame casting a shadow over your body, engulfing you just as his wings had.

The furies waited patiently against the wall. Guiltily you hung your head, realizing that you had left them in the long hallway when they had been trying to be hospitable.

“Get some rest, ladies. I’ll take over for now.” Simon spoke lowly, gesturing for the women to flee into their own chambers for the night.

They all dropped a knee, curtsying low before escaping out of your sight in the shadows. It made you squirm watching them bow, he was a God, yet he never made you drop a knee in front of him.

“They all bow to you.” You hoped your nonchalance had broken through the hidden question.

“Yes. They live in this realm because I allow it. I rule the underworld. I suppose mortals would call me a King.” Your eyes widened at the revelation. He was a King, your title of Chief’s daughter was simply rubbish compared to him.

You found your knee dropping, ready to flex into a curtesy as Simon turned more to face you. Quickly his eyes flashed under his helmet, as if the very sight was the most disturbing thing he had ever seen.

His arm reached out, his palm connecting with your bicep as he pulled you up from your crouched position.

“Never bow to me.” He hissed.

“You said you were a King?” You frowned, fixing the strap of your nightdress to avoid his intense stare.

“Not to you. I’m not a King, I’m not a God. I’m just Simon, your Simon.”

He turned and began to walk before you could answer, leaving your mouth open in shock. Aphrodite’s words spun in your head in a constant loop.

With a forceful exhale you followed him again, taking quick notice that you were no longer going down the hallway to your chamber rooms.

“Where are we going?” You asked, nearly running to catch up with his long strides.

“You said you were hungry, no?”

A blush crept up your cheeks as he pushed open a door to his right, snapping his fingers with a quick crack. Suddenly, lamps filled with oil flickered delicately in the new room.

It was a large kitchen, brandished with large oak countertops and many pots and pans that were shiny and iron. The area was dimly lit, but you could take notice to how cleanly kept it was. Simon gestured to some barstools in the middle of the room.

As soon as you smoothed your dress and sat upon the chair a loud clang sounded, before the swiveling door on the opposite side slammed open.

“Your Grace! Good to see you back, you look too skinny!”

Your eyes widened at the quaint old woman who wobbled into the area, her back arched and face plump in smiling happiness. She thought Simon was too skinny?

You decided she must have had impaired vision, because as you glanced at Simon, clothed in black, he looked the opposite of skinny. His shoulders and back were tense and unwavering, his legs strong and thick. And his arms, as gentle as they held you, were still firm with muscle. You wondered about his face…

“Oh, is this her, Simon?”

You snapped out of your stupor, instead a soft smile replaced your face as the elderly woman limped closer to you.

“Yes, it’s her.” Simon confirmed, his voice lowering an octave as he crossed his arms over his chest. The bleach white of his skull flickering in the lamplight.

“She’s so beautiful. Has a kind face.”

You decided you liked this woman. Even with the worn apron she wore and the slightly crooked teeth, she still had the kindest face you’ve seen in a while.

“I’ll take over, Ms. Riley.” Simon spoke up. Obviously it was easy to see this woman meant something to him. He spoke softer to her, and besides yourself, she was the only one to address him as Simon.

“Oh, are you sure?”

Simon nodded his head, just as Ms. Riley tutted. “My kitchen better be spotless when you’re done.”

Simon rolled his eyes playfully, “Go home, have some extra time with that grandson of yours. Besides, Beth could use some extra hands with him and Tommy.”

She grew happier at the mention of her Grandson, and with a quick goodbye she left the kitchen in hopes of spoiling her grandson more.

“Ms. Riley is one of the ghosts from Elysium. Some choose to serve under me after death. Her family died very dramatically, I granted her a ticket to Elysium among with one of her sons and his wife. And of course little Joseph.”

“What happened to her other son?” You found yourself asking, not noticing his tense stance.

“He died too in a way. Her son, Simon. He couldn’t find hope after finding his only family dead. So I offered him an alternative.”

You gulped as he grew closer, pulling up a chair across from where you sat. It was then you noticed the tiredness behind his eyes.

He’s all work and no play. Aphrodite had said.

“He became my vessel of sorts. All of the Gods and Goddesses pick one. Someone that represents them in a way. Simon was already dead, he was a soldier. He willingly became my body.”

“So this isn’t actually you?” You gestured to his body, although you couldn’t see his face, you could practically see the quirk of his lip.

“It’s me. While I am Hades, the body adapts to the God. His traits define some of my own, for instance Simon is very loyal, quiet, and has an odd fascination with scotch whiskey and reading.”

This made you laugh slightly. You imagined his giant palms cupping a book, the font little next to his massive size.

“Speaking of drinks…” Simon snapped his fingers again, and your eyes grew wide at the large selection of food and drink that appeared before you.

Heaps of fruits piled upon the butcher blocks, from green apples to figs. Roast duck and lamb proudly displayed, among with an assortment of cheeses, stewed vegetables, and sweets of rich chocolate and honey.

“This cannot possibly be all for me?” You asked astounded.

“Mortals send lots of offerings to the Gods. I have more food than I know what to do with. Eat what you want, I’ll give the rest to the people in Esylium.”

Carefully you picked up a couple grapes, mumbling a quiet thank you as you chewed upon the fruit. Simon let out a small huff, pushing the plate of duck you had been eying towards your hands.

It was enviably clear that your mother taught you to eat light and not gorge.

“Your mother was wrong to deny you food, sponsa mea. Eat what you want.”

“I-thank you.” You felt comfort in his presence as you chewed silently upon the duck, relishing in the flavor of meat. Something you had not had in a long time. He treated you so well, it made your head spin. Again, Aphrodite’s words swam in your mind.

“Something troubles you?” He spoke up, your eyes snapped to his helm, just as a nervous shiver escaped.

“Uh, yes. Someone came to me in a dream after I ate the seed. Or at least I think it was a dream? She said her name was Aphrodite?”

Simon cursed at the name, he straightened his posture. “What did that evil woman tell you?”

“She said something about how my betrothal to Shepherd was invalid.”

You felt the feeling of sweat fall to the back of your neck. Your hands clenching around your fork as you debated taking another bite just to shut you up.

“Yes?” Simon urged, his eyes softly making their way from your jaw, to your nose, to your delicate eyes. You dropped your cutlery.

With a burst of courage you challenged his stare. “She said I was betrothed to you.”

He slouched, his eyes falling down to his lap for a short moment before meeting your stare again. “It’s true. It’s been set in stone since you were born. It was your mother who tried to avoid it.”

Your heart pounded faster, Simon noticed.

You watched as he pulled off his gloves, his skin a milky white that contrasted his dark attire. With hesitance, he reached forward, capturing your wrist in his palm. His fingers were warm as they wrapped around your hand, holding you in a delicacy more precious than glass.

It was the first time you felt him. The man you were promised to.

“Why did my mother never tell me?” You whispered into the air, feeling lightheaded as his fingertips ran soothing circles across your knuckles.

“Staying here, you’d be in my protection. Something your mother has never been fond of. Everyone sees me as death. One look and you’ll pass over cold, but in truth I rule the dead. She sees Aphrodite’s match as false.”

“Was it?” You shifted.

“Only if you want it to be. I’d rewrite time for you, fate be damned. If you should choose not to marry me, so be it. I’d still turn the Earth if you command it.”

A look of clear discomfort flashed across your face. Of course, Simon noticed.

“You have all month to decide. We don’t need to have a straight answer now. But I’d like to give you proof that I’m the right choice, if you say the word.”

You knew words would fail you, so instead you settled on a nod. Simon mirrored your movement, “Good girl.”

With a light pat on the table, he settled back in his chair, reluctantly releasing your hand. “Right then, anymore questions for me?”

A soft smile traced over your lips.

“Loads.”

He crossed his arms, happily leaning his head back slightly as he gestured you to continue.

“Aphrodite said she’s the Goddess of Love and Relationships, what else are you the God of besides the dead?”

“I’m known for being the God of Fertility and Wealth.” He turned his wrists, producing a large gleaming emerald. You rose your eyebrows.

“What’s with the wings?”

“Helps me get around. The underworld is a large realm, it so happens I need to be in a lot of places when I rule. I’m not the King that sits on a throne all day.” Large black wings appeared from behind him as he spoke, fluttering slightly against his back.

They were smoky like the rest of him, but as you looked closely, you could notice the silvery and purple sheen of crow feathers. It made perfect sense. One wing reached out, teasingly swiping across your chin.

You laughed again, and maybe it was your imagination— but Simon seemed to literally glow at the noise.

It made you wonder what his smile looked like.

“Why do you always wear that mask? Do you ever take it off?”

He dimmed down, retracting his wings with a dull whoosh.

“A last request from Simon. After his family died, he lost everything. Including who he actually was, the mask is a symbol of his loss. But I’ve helped guide him into less troubling waters. I now wear it as my Helm of Darkness, to keep me invisible to my enemy.”

Your eyes widened as the God vanished into thin air, the only proof he was there was the sudden scraping of the chair he had sat in.

“Not even Gods can see me.” His cold whisper fluttered against your neck, against the tender flesh of your new dark blemish, that symbolized your eating of the pomegranate seed.

You shuddered as he appeared once again at your side, close; but not suffocating.

Comforting.

“As for the mask coming off, it’s not completely forbidden. But maybe another time.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you imagined him. Would he be strong and chiseled as his body? Was he scarred from battle?

“When I woke, your brother’s mentioned a bond that was created when I ate the seed. What does that mean besides staying with you a month?”

He hummed, a low noise that illustrated his heavy thinking. “That, I can tell you in the morrow. You need some rest, Sponsa Mea. When you wake I will show you around my realm.”

You nodded, honestly feeling the stupor of sleep rest against your shoulders. Even with the quick slumber after eating the seed, you still felt simply exhausted.

“That sounds nice…” you slurred against sleep, only worsening with your belly full and content. With a slight ruffle, Simons large wings had wrapped around you like before, although this time it wasn’t in protective anger, but instead in gentle care.

“Close your eyes.” He mumbled, and pulled you into his torso ever so slightly. You did as you were told. The uncomfortable feeling of being yanked and pulled made your lungs constrict as they had before. Your feet no longer touching solid ground as you clutched closer to Simon with eyes clamped shut.

Moments later, your feet touched the precious marble ground. His arm slowly unraveled from the middle of your back.

“We’re back to your quarters, Sponsa Mea.”

You peeled your eyes open hesitantly, although you couldn’t see much in the darkness. The room was dark, but not as dark as Simon’s shadow a few inches away.

“Come now, off to bed. I have a surprise for you in the morning.” His deep voice spoke in a gentle whisper, just as he palmed the soft material of your nightdress, guiding you to the large mattress covered in silks and fur.

You wasted no time climbing into bed, instantly relaxing as the God pulled the furs over you in such a domestic nature it made a soft smile peak against your lips.

“May your dreams be as sweet as your beauty.” He stood straighter, but hastily you caught his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“I have one more question.” You adjusted, attempting to squint to see him more against the dark. He twined his gloved hand through yours, squeezing in gently apprehension.

“What is it?”

With heat rising to your face, you squirmed.

“What does Sponsa Mea mean?”

He chuckled, a musical sound that didn’t match his body. It was truly delightful regardless.

“Get some sleep, My Bride.”

He was gone before you could blink.

My Bride. His Promised.

Next Chapter

Tags: @soapyghost @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobsessedsstuff @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve @soldier-lass @ghostslittlegf @rebel-soldat @erintaro @zomb1edoll @ghost-with-a-teacup @fante-di-denari @kuwizo @sollucifer @embers-of-alluring @icepancakes @bangirl134 @queen-ilmaree @ahmya-4 @bugwritesstuff @msecho19 @the-abyss-of-fandoms @madysonavery @angstyjellybean @trashboat-the-raccoon @multitargaryen

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

886 notes · View notes

rocket-our-baby · 8 months

Text

No Dreams were prettier

a/n: ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

You can find out more about me & pls read my disclaimers here.

Masterlist here

Rocket x fem!reader oneshot

Can be interpreted romantically or platonically (personally I like the one where they’re in-between and figuring it out before confessing; please feel free to read it the way you want.)

Just a fluffy oneshot to hopefully brighten up your day or soothe any of your acute/chronic/pms pain <3

Yes I wrote this when I was very very sick lmao like literally when I was cold sweating from the pain but nonetheless no particular warnings apart from mentioning of pain, except for extra pointless fluffs ahead behold

The title of this is kinda foreshadowing to what I hid at the end of the fic, and it works both ways ✵彡

English is not my native language (I just read tons of fanfics to keep on truckin’ and now here I am, still alive)

Ok the foreword wouldn’t necessarily be any longer in my future posts it’s just, this is like my first official fic posted here on this blog over the past decade since I deliberately avoided SNS so, kindly bear with my oversharing and thank you for stumbling upon here!

Hope you enjoy <3

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𝒩ℴ 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾ℯ𝓇

info: rocket/f!reader, 3.1k words, 99%pure fluff, sfw, oneshot

summary: You’re sick, and Rocket is worried. He tries not to show it by acting rationally, but it’s very obvious.

note: is possibly one of the chapters in the domestic fluff slice of life series between rocket, the best pilot in the galaxy and the best captain any Terran girl can ask for in space; and the reader, a Terran from Terra living her not-so-normal life in space, with a talking raccoon.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

banner edited by me ✵彡

“Hey,, Rocket… I could use some help… I guess”

Without turning around, Rocket glances up at his back and raises an eyebrow in curiosity, his paws still automatically tinkering with whatever new tools he’s fixing.

“Yeah? What's goin' on, doll? You sounded… weird.”

…only to find you in extreme pain and distress.

“And looked weird.”

Your face in agony, pearls of sweats forming on your forehead, your eyes barely focusing on him, nor are they on anything frankly.

“I’m feeling… bad… like a stomachache bad…”

You sound weak and breathy, but you slowly approach him in small and stumbling steps, both of your arms hugging yourself tightly applying pressure to your stomach, your fingertips digging deep into your soft flesh, bearing the pain and preventing yourself from screaming. Cold sweats all over your body, your voice weak, lips and face pale, as you sit — more like fall — down near him all of a sudden.

Rocket's eyes widen in shock, quickly setting his stuff down and rushes over to help you.

“Whoa, hey, hey, doll, y’alright?”

He gently places his paws on your shoulders to support you enough to sit up, as you give in to his embrace, finally feeling a sense of relief. Looking at you up and down, he nervously assesses your condition and instinctively sniffs for any blood, checking if you’ve had any wounds.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

He certainly doesn’t sound like his usual self. That snarky, sarcastic, smartass cocky bastard.

“Around half an hour I guess… there’s no one on the ship right now and I’ve been shivering uncontrollably,,”

You let out a weak chuckle and smile bitterly at your own reply.

“I didn’t want to bother you cuz it’s your free time as well, but it’s becoming unbearable… as if my stomach is burning like hell and twisting… like there’s an alien inside ready to burst o-”

“Uh-huh, yeah I know I know.”

Rocket cuts your reference there and sighs in concern as he takes your forehead in his paw to check your temperature. He’s heard this before. From Stark from a kid from Terra called Parker, or something. He doesn’t care right now. All he can focus on at the moment is you, and your well-being.

“But girl, this is definitely not just some minor thingie. How's your appetite? Any vomiting?”

He furrows his brows, trying to figure out what's wrong.

“Not so great…I’ve just been drinking some water. A constant urge to vomit but nothing.”

As Rocket checks up on you closely, he notices your brows furrow in affliction, your lips pale white, your hands slightly shaking and your body shivering but also sweating due to the discomfort. He tries to avert his worrying gaze by turning to examine your body, but it doesn’t escape your Terran instincts.

“Okay... ‘kay, alright. How's your breathing? Any chest pains, difficulty catching your breath?”

He presses his ear near your chest to check your breathing rate and your heartbeat, his paw moves to your abdomen, pulling your shirt upwards to feel your skin and applying some pressure to gauge your sensitivity and any possible organ ruptures in that area.

“Yes, other than feeling like my stomach has become your bomb storage and they’ve all been exploding simultaneously this whole time, it’s alright… still alive I guess.”

You let out a slight sigh feeling Rocket‘s touch on your belly, half-chuckle at your half-joking reply despite struggling to merely keep your eyes open.

Rocket chuckles a bit at your snarky remarks, but then his face turns serious again as he continues observing your condition. Not saying anything, he grabs you by your waist and supports you to walk to a nearby sofa and gently helps you lie down. That’s an order, he said, just for you to chuckle weakly. Not that you’re gonna complain about any of it tho.

“Hmm, okay... this certainly doesn't sound good... d’you have a history of stomach problems? Anything that I’m unaware of?”

He shifts his body to the side, feeling for your liver with his left paw, and keeps applying slight pressure to your abdomen with his right.

You breathe weakly, as you continue to shiver feeling the endless twisting of your organs, but you seem to look a bit better now that Rocket is rubbing gentle circles on your stomach. Your breathing is slowly stabilising compared to a few moments before.

“Yeah I guess… since I was small, I’d often experienced stomachaches whenever I was nervous… or stressed. But this is not supposed to happen when I’m now an adult. I mean, I haven’t been that nervous for quite a long time. Not even when fighting monstrous aliens alongside you guys, y’know.”

“With us, you mean.”

You chuckle softly and weakly as he said that sternly.

The sudden flush of torturing pain causes your brows to furrow tightly again, sweats forming in the creeks of your frown, your eyes on the verge of tears.

“But my stomach has always been weak, to be honest… there’s no Terran food out here, y’know.”

You tell him the honest truth but still insist on playing around a bit in spite of how much your body aches, hoping to ease the atmosphere and not to worry the raccoon too much, given your current state.

It pains him even more to see you like this — always saying you’re okay, joking around to lift your crew up, pretending to be fine.

Rocket’s facial expression softens as he nods in acknowledgement, still monitoring your condition and applying slight pressure on you hoping to make you feel better, his fingers lingers through your soft skin and tracing gentle circles, careful not to hurt you even more.

“Huh... doll, don’t die on me just yet tho, this could be anything from an infection to an organ rupture, but it’d better just be one of your nervous stomachaches. Well, maybe when you see me.”

He smirks and turns to grin at you playfully, all the while continuing to feel for your spleen, and then shifts up to your chest to feel your lungs and heart.

His gaze remains locked on you, watching for any changes in your breathing patterns or expressions.

“Let's just hope it's nothing too serious. Hey, any drinking these days? And how have your bowel movements been lately? When’s your last ‘code red’?”

You blush slightly when his left paw reaches you chest to feel your heartbeat, his claw in your cleavage. You can’t help but smile softly at how serious he looks and sounds when checking up on you.

“Hey Rocky…I didn’t know you’re also a medical doctor apart from being an awesome mechanic and the best pilot in the entire galaxy.”

You grin playfully, looking at his beautiful bright brown ambers. As if they make you forget the pain - for just one second, you thought you’re gonna lost in his hazel eyes which has seen a lot in the universe, maybe more pain that you do, than you’ll ever do, maybe more than you can ever fathom.

For a second, the physical pain you’re experiencing becomes nothing more than noticeable, as your heart aches so much it drops just from the mere thought of what he has endured.

Rocket chuckles softly and lightly taps your forehead with his free paw, just to make sure your mind isn't wandering off too far from the situation.

“‘kay doll, let's not get carried away. I'm not anywhere close to a medical doctor, I'm just here to make sure you don't keel over in the next few minutes. Now stay still and answer my question, will ya? That’s another order.”

“Yes, capt’in.”

You giggle softly, can’t help but smile at him and reassure him there’s (prolly) nothing wrong with your cycles nor daily intakes. Since when did your period elevates to code red btw? Or is it just the colour..?

You don’t even have the energy to wander around anymore in your mind and decide to close your eyes again. Despite the constant distractions…of… his paws.

He continues to feel your chest and your abdomen, occasionally glancing down at your bare stomach to see if the pressure is bothering you or not. You notice how his ears perk up at any noise from your stomach and his whiskers twitches when he’s sensing any discomfort from you. You can’t help but indulge in the feeling of his touches, the smooth motions of his paws, keep thinking how cute he is and admiring how attractive he looks when he’s working on something seriously. Especially when that something is now you.

As the burning of your stomach brings you back to the reality, you chuckle softly at his snarky response, one thing again that you secretly love him for.

“Well… and here I’m just buttering you up to be my teddy bear for the day.”

You smile weakly and sweetly despite your very pale lips.

“And I also love the feeling of your soft paw on my chest.”

You giggle softly, and flash him a wan smile before another flush of pain comes in.

Rocket smirks and chuckles at your flirty comment, but only briefly before continuing his examination.

“Yeah, okay, that was cute and all, but you're the one with an excruciating stomachache, so let's stick to the task at hand, shall we?”

He presses down slightly harder on your abdomen and then listens to your gut for any signs of trouble.

“I just wish I had a stethoscope handy right now...”

He sighs and then leans down to place his ear over your abdomen, listening for any noises that might indicate something suspicious.

You smile at his seriousness and chuckles softly when the soft fur of his and his whiskers touch your now exposed skin, tickling you a bit but also soothing your pain. Maybe it’s just a diversion, or maybe it’s just you craving the feeling of hugging a teddy, or maybe you just wanna hug him… so much.

“It’s alright, Rocket… You’ve helped me a lot already.”

You just can’t resist the urge, as you slowly reach your hand to scratch his head and the spots behind his ears, smiling lovingly at him.

“And y’know, I think… this could help.” You gesture the current action of his by your chin, clearly indicating that you’re feeling better when Rocket is lying on your tummy.

It takes all of Rocket's willpower to stop himself from giving into the urge of just burying his face in your soft, warm chest, instead he remains sitting upright while listening to your gut. After a few seconds, he raises his head and looks at you.

“Yeah, I think it definitely helps. Your stomach's not roaring as loud as before, so that's a good thing. And that slight pressure seems to make you feel better as well.”

He looks down at you, the hint of a grin on his face, still holding back the desire to just bury his face in your neck. He’s got some more serious observations to do, as he pulls away and sits up.

You fake a playful frown.

“Hey, and there I was buttering you up to be my cuddly teddy bear for my not-feeling-so-well day! Ouch-!”

You chuckle softly at your own half-joking reply. But you do mean what you said.

“More like nearly-dying-from-no-missions day to be frank, dollface.”

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle and shakes his head.

“Come on, do you expect me to actually jump on your chest and snuggle up with you?”

He glances down at your stomach again, pressing down slightly. He should be focusing on this right now. Yes, this, not that.

“Still feel okay? You still in pain?”

His voice is a bit softer and quieter now, and you know he is still concerned about your wellness.

“Hmmmm… yes, if you’re not lying on top of me and if you still don’t snuggle with me and be my fluffy cuddly teddy bear/ heat pad for the day right here right now, then yes, very painful.”

You fake a playful pout, and chuckle softly at your own “childish” response, more like at the audacity of yourself to say it out loud to Rocket knowing that he’d not snap you back as harsh when you’re in this state, before smiling and opening your arms for him.

Rocket chuckles, but then rolls his eyes and groans as you gesture for him to come over and cuddle and heat you up.

“Seriously?”

He fakes another eye roll, and sees your almost teary puppy eyes — both from the real pain and from your mischievous idea of planning to cuddle with him.

“Okay fine, alright, if it'll make you feel better...”

He grumbles for a moment before sighing softly. Then he moves to the side, scooting a little closer to you, and then carefully lays on top of you, making sure not to move around too much in case he hurts your stomach.

“Happy now, princess?”

“Very, capt’in!”

You giggle when your wish is granted and then happily wrap both of your arms around the raccoon, feeling his rough but fluffy fur and his warm body.

“Thanks… Rocket.”

You gently pat his back with one of your hands and scratch the back of his head with another, smiling lovingly at his ears tickling the crook of your neck as his head is buried in your soft chest.

Rocket looks up at you for a sec before turning away. Your expression shows that you’re still bothered by the pain, but your face now has a shade of pink to it. Rocket wonders if it’s due to his body heat warming you up or any other reasons.

“You surely are a manipulative one when you’re not feeling well, aren’t ya?”

Sighs Rocket, as he chuckles and replies with a sly remark, regardless, he is smiling softly lying on your chest. His eyes looking at somewhere far away, as if he’s cherishing the moment and pondering… something else.

You giggle softly.

“It’s good to have someone to take care of me for once, y’know. I’m usually the one doing the caretaking… not that I don’t enjoy it tho. It’s just,, it’s a nice change of pace.”

You smile warmly while rubbing gentle circles on his back, and cuddling him a bit more, feeling his heartbeat and his fur coating your bare stomach.

Rocket chuckles softly and scoots in a bit closer, pressing his head against your neck, and allowing himself to relax on top of you.

“Yeah, no kiddin’. You're like the unofficial mom of the group, y’know.”

He seems to enjoy the moment, laying peacefully on your chest, feeling your soft arms wrap around him and your fingers playing with his fur. He smiles contentedly, letting out a deep and calming exhale of breath that he hasn’t had in more than a while.

“Y’know, doll... there's not many people I'd feel comfortable relaxing like this with.”

“Well, that’s my pleasure.”

You let out a giggle and smile lovingly at him, as you keep gently scratching his ears and massaging his neck, but careful enough not to hurt him by gently rubbing the knots around the implants and metals on his body. His muscles feel tight and tense. He surely needs a proper massage some day, you thought and note that to yourself.

“It’s really good to have you around, Rocket… really.”

Rocket shifts slightly to better allow you to reach his ears and massage his neck, not wishing to risk messing up the comfort at the moment.

He closes his eyes and presses his head further into your chest, sighing contentedly.

“...Y’know, for someone who's got a stomachache and is in torturing pain, you seem to be enjoying this quite a bit.”

You giggle softly, your hands keep patting him gently in a relaxing pace, resembling that of your own heartbeat. With him in your arms, your body is no longer quivering, you’re breathing now at a much calmer rate. You smile contentedly with your now less pale lips upon hearing him.

“Well,, for someone so rough and tough and fierce and snarky outside you surely are a lil’ soft ball for me.”

You let him bury his face into your crook, and giggle playfully but sweetly to him.

Rocket chuckles at your remark, but his gaze softens a little as you continue to pat him, still allowing him to lie on top of you as your soft body and your arms wrap around him, his body heat warming you up.

“I'd say it goes both ways.”

For once in who knows how long, he feels his tensed up body relax completely. Turning his head slightly to the side to give you access to his cheek and neck, his eyelids drift shut as you keep patting him gently, allowing himself to relax even further. You notice how the tension of his body loosen up and how his breathing has slowed down.

“I say… you should fall asleep on me like this today. You’re my personal teddy bear for the day, remember?”

He snickers at your comment playfully but then closes his eyes again, feeling safe and comfortable in the warmth and softness of your body and arms. After a moment of silence, he whispers into your chest, his voice sounding tired and relaxed.

“Yeah yeah, yeah, you win, doll. Anything for my girl.”

He lets out a slight sigh as things have eventually gone along your plan. Not that he’d complain though.

Feeling his warmth, you wonder if he’s a literal ray of sunshine. It’s as if all the pain has been drifted away by the river of warmth he radiates. To you, now, and you only.

“...I'm not gonna lie, I'm enjoying this...”

He closes his eyes and savours the moment, taking in the feeling of your gentle touch and your sweet, calming voice.

“…a lot.”

He whispered in an almost inaudible voice as he turns to you after a while, but notices how your eyes are now closed, your facial expression relaxed, your breathing has already slowed and he feels your tummy rising slightly up and down in a steady and relaxing pattern. Your lips now a lot pinker, curving in a contented smile.

He smiles to himself and sighs contentedly, as he lets himself relax on you and slowly drifts off into a dream that you two share in the incredible vastness of the galaxy, into the blooming stardust of the short-lived meteor shower shined upon the darkness of space, into the inevitability of the ever-lasting infinite universe, one that you two will be exploring together in the years to come.

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭.

fin.

♡︎s, comments and rbs are appreciated..!

hope you enjoyed it, and have a lovely day ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

#rocket raccoon #rocket x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket x you #rocket raccoon x you #rocket gotg #gotg rocket #gotg fanfiction #gotg imagine #rocket the raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon x y/n

157 notes · View notes

moonmeg · 6 months

Text

Layout for next comic done, head empty only Breeil scenario once again - this time not in comic form!

TW// body insecurity (negativity), implied eating disorder

"Bree, what's the matter?"

"Look at me!", she freed herself from his arms, "Look at my chest, my arms, my legs, my stomach! How can ye think I'm pretty when I'm not as thin as I used to be?! How can ye love me when I look like this?!"

Neil stared at her. He didn't understand what she meant, where this was coming from. He never gave her reason to doubt his adoration for her - so he thought at least. Breena kept avoiding his eyes and quickly turned her back to him, hiding herself and her body from the man she loved. The thought that he will leave her now that her body is so different tortured her. She didn't want him to leave. Neil was the best thing to happen to her...

"Bree, you are beautiful to me. And I mean that wi' all my heart. A few additional pounds willna change that. Especially not because that's more than natural in yer circumstances."

"My circumstances?", she turned her head in his direction slightly.

"Aye, yer pregnancy. Ye're growing a person inside o' ya, love. Of course yer body is changing."

He slowly closed the gap between them and gently brushed a red curl out of her face. He examined her face and noticed her quivering lip and her still avoiding eyes becoming glassy. It's rare he saw his wife so upset and vulnerable. He knew a pregnancy had its impact on the becoming mother's emotionality but something told him there was more to Breena's feelings.

"I'm just wondering, where ye get the idea from that I only love ye when ye're thin? Did I make ye feel like that?", he traced his thumb down her cheek. His voice calm and soft.

"It's not you."

...

"Was it them?"

She closed her eyes and the longer she thought about "them" the more her brows furrowed above her red-brown lashes. "Them" referred to the people that Breena was raised by. She didn't think they were worth the title of "parents". Parents are loving, they're caring and they'd never cause their child to run away from home with 16 because it's become unbearable to live with them. To Breena those two people she had to live with were but merely her creators. That was also what she referred to them as whenever they still influenced her life... like now.

"Titan...", Neil sighed, knowing that he found the reason behind his wife's behavior. Breena's creators barely were a topic in their conversations or a part of their life but whenever they did come up, it was never in good context. "What did they tell you?"

She glanced at her husband. It wasn't long but Neil was happy she had met his eyes finally even if just for a second. It meant she was willing to open up about it to him and she was building up strength to reopen a part from that chapter of her life that she actually long had closed and desperately wanted to seal and lock away. It was hard for her. He knew that.

Caressing his palms over her arms until he reached her hands and curling his fingers around them, he let her take her time. His thumb carefully ran across her knuckles - back and forth. It was his way of reassuring her. He's here. He's listening. She has all his attention. She's not alone.

Breena squeezed his hand as she took a breath. She hated that she troubled him with her problems of the past. She learned to keep her frustration to herself and in fear of bothering people dear to her never let them out. Communication never worked in her home, why should it work outside of it? Of course, Breena never would've bothered her friends nor is she bothering Neil or her newly found family-in-law with her feelings. But unfortunately old habits break hard.

"Ever since I was a lass, no older than 6, I was told that my appearance is the most important thing I have to offer. If I'm not pretty and a certain weight, I dinna deserve affection or... love. Nobody wants me if I'm not thin. Nobody would think me worthy. If I'm not in the image of my creators, I'll be lonely til my last days. So I...", she paused, taking a shaky breath, "...I always tried to fit in that expectation. Whenever I didna fit it, I was called worthless, ugly and denied food. Whenever I did fit, I was praised... at least one thing I did right."

"Oh, mo gaol...", Neil whispered, "I'm so sorry."

He squeezes her trembling hand tightly. That was the reason behind her eating habits, he finally figured. She barely ate, only small portions if any at all, and his mother and himself were always trying to get her to eat more but without much success. With the pregnancy she had started eating more at last but she always felt bad afterwards and apologized for eating so much and would deny herself food "to make up for it". He had theorized there was a reason to it but he never wanted to push her to talk about it.

"They're so wrong.", he cupped her face and leaned his forehead on hers, "Ye're worthy of love no matter what yer body looks like and no matter what ye weigh. I love you regardless. I always will."

"Ye will?", she hicced.

"Aye. I asked ye to marry me because I dinna want to live a life wi'out ye. Bree, ye are so much more than yer looks. I'm sorry yer creators told you such terrible lies and treated ye so horribly. I only wish we had met sooner so that I could've proven them wrong and given you the love and affection that ye deserve earlier."

Breena sniffed as his thumbs caught her tears. She buried her face in his palm and gave her emotions uncontrolled freedom. Sobbing she threw herself onto her husband's chest, clenching his shirt. Instinctively, Neil wrapped his arms around her back, securing her in that position.

"Neil, I-"

"Shh. There's nothing more for you to say.", he turned his face to press a kiss to her temple. He held her for a while, let her cry, comforted her by brushing through her curls. "I can only imagine how difficult it must've been for ye and how difficult it still is but... if I may, and if ye want to, I will do everything in my power to help ye heal. I'm here."

She pulled away from his chest to look at him. Cracking a smile she was the one to cup his face now. "I am so lucky and thankful to have ye."

"Aye.", he smiled back adoringly, "And I'm afraid ye're stuck wi' me 'until death do us part'."

Breena chuckled at him quoting their vows. She brushed a brown lock behind his ear before she met his golden eyes once again, gazing at her as if she was a deity and the only thing he cared about. She never knew what love really felt like but when Neil was with her, looking at her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, kissing her and smiling at her, she was sure to have found it. And she was willing to allow him to help her actually heal and actually, at last, close the chapter of her past.

"I can live wi' that."

#breena bower #neil bower #toh ocs #tdaac #not main story related #tw: body insecurity #tw: eating disorder

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bbyseok · 1 year

Text

his shadow

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

cw: pro hero au, bakugou n reader are both pro heroes, gender neutral reader, mention of death, self-depreciation, angst- so much angst, but there’s comfort too !!

analysis: you mess up on the job, and you mess up badly. and even though bakugou tries to help you find solace, you’ll never be as good as him—always in his shadow.

an: i almost wrapped this up with a sad ending so you’re lucky i changed my mind.. i got too emotional and decided to end it with comfort,, enjoy everyone !!

———

anyone who knew bakugou knew that he’d make a name for himself. and he has—he’s one of the top pro heroes in japan who prides himself on his work he does. the center of the stage, with the spotlight on him. it’s like he was destined for greatness.

and somehow, you had gotten swept along.

loving katsuki isn’t the easiest thing to do. he’s a little rough around the edges and emotionally constipated. that, paired with the dangerous work you both do.

yes, you’re also a pro hero. not as well known as bakugou, a little low on the charts, but you’re satisfied with the job—saving people is the most important thing above all.

despite all these trials, you made it work. loving him isn’t easy, but it’s enough. you smooth out his roughness and teach him the tender things of life. he shows you a side that makes your heart flutter.

you have katsuki all to yourself at times. his vulnerability, his love, his everything—the way he holds you with gentle hands that he uses everyday to defeat villains and criminals.

and yet, the oh so great explosion murder god dynamight is someone who people marvel and fawn over for sure, no matter what. that’s out of the question. and with his spotlight, he also casts an unbearable shadow.

a shadow you drown in.

the brightness of your laptop is glaring at you. a stupid news article is displayed on your screen; its bold headliner words are simple but taunting, mocking.

DYNAMIGHT’S PRO HERO SPOUSE FAILS TO SAVE THREE LIVES DURING CONSTRUCTION ACCIDENT.

fuck.

it had been a slip, a mistake. you hadn’t judged the falling of the debris as fast as you should’ve, you hadn’t heard the last desperate cry of the workers at least once. the article is right, so right that it’s unbearable. you had failed.

those people counted on you to save them and you had failed them and their families. it’s all your fault, undoubtedly, and all eyes are on you because of it.

the awful, creeping feeling of guilt is making your head spin. but the words of the headline make it even worse. dynamight’s spouse. this isn’t the first time news reports use that title instead of your actual hero name, or your name in general. it’s always dynamight’s this, dynamight’s that. dynamight’s side piece. dynamight’s.

you don’t mind being bakugou’s. you’re his and he’s yours.

but his shadow swallows you whole until there’s nothing left. absolutely nothing left, and until you’re nothing without him. you’re nothing without bakugou katsuki, without dynamight in the hero world.

his shadow arches over your accomplishments and feeds your failures—you’d never be as great as him, wouldn’t be worthy enough for him just like this article title says. you’d never meet his standard, his greatness that comes with even a mention of his name. you had failed for god’s sake.

the sound of the front door opening abruptly yanks you out of your.. thoughts. they don’t go away though, whispering and hissing at the back of your mind. you quickly close and shut down your laptop as you hear footsteps approaching.

katsuki’s voice breaks the air. “babe? where are you?” you’ve been with him long enough to read his tone. he knows what happened. he knows and you know he’s going to talk about it. bakugou never avoids things, especially things like this.

you don’t answer him, leaving him to find you seated at the dining table. his footsteps falter as you meet his gaze, and for some reason, he looks relieved to see you there. you can tell he changed at his agency in a hurry, casual clothes all rumpled and wrinkled.

he reaches you, one of his hands cradling your cheek carefully. “i heard what happened.” yep, straight to the point. “are you okay?” you don’t know if he means physically or mentally. his eyes roam over you for any injuries in a brief manner.

it takes a while for you to answer, struggling to simply look at him in the eye. “..no.” you decide to be truthful. besides, it’d be a blatant lie if you had said yes. “i’m not okay,” you admit delicately.

bakugou, in his time of courting and falling in love with you, has learned how to comfort you in his own way. his thumb brushes over the skin of your cheek before he has both of his hands holding yours. “talk to me.”

you let out a soft, shaky exhale. “i.. i don’t know what to say, katsuki. what can i say?” shit, it hurts. the guilt is eating up at your insides, digging its way into your heart, and your voice cracks. “i failed, katsuki.”

bakugou doesn’t hesitate to drag one of the dining table chairs closer to yours and sits close to you, knees pressed against yours as he holds your hands more firmly. “hey, hey. listen to me.”

it’s then you realize that your hands are trembling. fuck. you try to steady them, studying the way his warm palms fit against yours, how his fingers are calloused but gentle.

“look at me,” he says softly, and you meet his eyes of red, unprepared. what was he gonna say to you? now, bakugou is hardly the jerk he was in his middle and high school days, and you’ve been with him for many years, but for once, you fear what he’d say. would he scold you, demean you? he has the right to anyway; failure grants that.

“mistakes..” you can tell that by the reluctance in bakugou’s voice that he’s choosing his words very carefully, “mistakes happen.”

“i-” your voice cracks again. “we can’t afford to make mistakes, katsuki! especially in this line of work- you know that! those- they were people!” your face feels warm with sudden tears. “and i just-! and i just let them die!”

you feel his hands tighten their grip and his mouth opens to say something.. and yet nothing comes out. in all of his years of being a pro hero, of all the challenges he’s faced in his life, for once—it looks like he doesn’t know what to say.

you inhale sharply, yanking away from his hold. when you stand, the chair scrapes uncomfortably against the floor. you know he’s trying, but fuck, it’s suffocating to breathe.. especially with him so close.

“i’m sorry, katsuki. i’m so sorry.” you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for right now. for not saving those people? for being a pathetic excuse for a hero? for not being a good enough person to stand by bakugou’s side? maybe all of the above. “i can’t- i just-”

and he’s standing right there with you, familiar furrow in his brow as he holds out his hands again. you can tell he wants to touch you, hug you, but you take a step back warily.

“you knew what you were getting into when you decided to become a pro hero,” he tells you. an attempt of being understanding, but it doesn’t help at all. “we can’t save everyone.”

but he can, a voice mocks, dynamight can. dynamight always wins.

“but you can!” you let your thoughts slip out with a wail. you wipe at your eyes with frustration, wishing you weren’t crying right now. you’ve had your vulnerable moments with katsuki before, but right now, you feel so weak. and you don’t want to look weak in front of him. “dynamight can! but me?”

judging by how his eyes widen, you see he’s a bit bewildered by the sudden change of the conversation being focused on him. the insecurity is as clear as day in your voice and you wish it weren’t.

his shadow is overwhelming.

“i’m- i’m nothing compared to you, katsuki! japan knows it!” a sob escapes your throat after that. “hell, even the world knows it! dynamight’s pro hero spouse-” you can’t finish it. you can’t finish it because another sob rings through the air and your heart hurts.

suddenly, you’re warm, and you’re blinking your tears into the fabric of katsuki's shirt, his broad arms wrapped around you tightly in an embrace so that you can’t move even if you tried.

“shut up.”

it’s whispered so brokenly into your ear, and it sounds almost as if katsuki’s on the verge of crying too. “please, shut up,” he murmurs, clinging onto you like you’d disappear right before his eyes. “don’t- don’t say that about yourself. don’t.”

if there’s one thing that can make you even guiltier than you already are, it’s making katsuki cry. even with the softer interior of bakugou you’ve come to see in the past years, he doesn’t cry often, and certainly not because of you. the sniffles he hides into your shoulder are the last thing that crumbles your heart.

“katsuki, i…”

he pulls back to lock your gazes, tears blurring. his red eyes are so pretty, always has been, even if they are crying right now. they blaze with a sudden fierceness, a sudden desperation that makes you listen.

“i married you because i love you. because you’re enough for me, do you hear that? no one, nothing, is going to change that—no articles, no accidents, nothing. so do not go telling me, do not go telling yourself, that you’re not worthy enough for me. that you’re not worthy enough of being a pro. you’re enough.”

katsuki’s words stun you into silence; they knock the breath out of your lungs and has your sobbing cease with a gasp. his eyes are burning into you and you hear him. you hear him and his heart.

you’re still crying. the tears are warm on your face and you don’t flinch when he moves his hands to cup your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe them away. “you’re enough, baby. all of you.”

with those words, he also wipes the insecurities and doubts away. not all of them, but they crawl and scurry out of your mind, chased out by katsuki’s love and his warmth.

you sniffle then, burying your head into his neck and letting yourself realize that you’re enough for pro hero dynamight, for bakugou katsuki. that you’re enough for the world, mistakes and all.

and that maybe.. maybe you can learn how to stand outside of his shadow.

#bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou angst #bakugou comfort #my writing #rain’s writing

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