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donatellawritings · 15 days

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thoughts on best friends dad!rafe!

introducing bfd!rafe & dolly!reader

there was pathetically sick part of rafe that got off on knowing that he still had it — especially with such a young girl like you who was an absolute knockout, absolutely eager and willing to bend to his every whim. he had watched you bloom into the young woman you were today, but the moment you turned eighteen, you became a bit more forward with your intentions. from wearing skimpy bikinis whenever you joined his sweet son on family trips, to the thin satin dresses that tented with your hard nipples on thursday dinners — you made sure to always look your best for mr. cameron.

but what made rafe melt was the way you were so immersed in him, you completely dismissed how his son was head over heels in love with you — and you can call rafe a sick man, but he always craved being the center of attention, no matter the costs. his little boy would just have to move on, not that he ever stood a chance against his overpowering and domineering father.

so, when rafe’s son asked if you could spend the summer at tannyhill, rafe was eager to oblige, masking his reasoning with ‘wanting his next of kin to be happy at home’, despite his true intentions of having you surrender all of yourself to him, now running rampant is his tainted and somewhat deranged mind.

on the first night of your extended stay, you found yourself sat beside your best friend’s father, your tooth-achingly sweet and doting best friend seated directly across from you, completely oblivious to the way his father stared at you with that same sense of longing and desire.

you liked mr. cameron — he was always so sweet to you, he bought you the finest birthday presents, complimented your girly, but borderline inappropriate outfits, and he always seemed to know exactly what you needed at any given time.

and maybe, just maybe there was a part of you that knew he felt the same way about you too.

carelessly leaning over the dining table, you fought back a knowing smirk as your swollen tits bulged against the hem of your sleeveless romper, the ribbed fabric clinging to your warm frame as you reached for a piece of bread, “thank you for having me, mr. cameron,” you sang, your sweet voice all light and airy as you glanced at the older man, your heart jumping as you caught his eyes stuck on the fat of your plush ass cheeks that managed to swallow the romper.

masking his faux pas with a forced clearing of his throat, mr. cameron licks over his lips with a smile, “well — ahem, f’course, my wife and i really appreciate how good of a friend you’ve been to our boy, isn’t that right, honey?”

rafe knew exactly what he was doing, his trained blue eyes carefully taking in the way your plump smile faltered into a brief frown and how the sparkle in your eyes dimmed. your bubble of security had been popped in that very moment as you tugged on the top hem of your romper, your nailed fingers lightly grazing over the baby pink bow that had been sewn between the valley of your breasts.

your oh so pretty and fake smile only intensified as mrs. cameron sauntered into the dining room. you absolutely hated how your shared likeness towards mr. cameron had soured your perception of the clueless woman who still viewed you to be the daughter she always wanted.

placing a manicured hand atop of mr. cameron’s shoulder, you watch as the woman leans down to capture rafe’s lips in a quick kiss, “mhm. you know that we love having you over, sweetie. you keep us on our toes, dolly” she laughs, gently nudging the apple of your cheek as she makes her way to her seat, directly across from mr. cameron.

dolly — the dear nickname that you’d been given by mr. cameron, you’d always been so wet behind the ears, dainty, and entirely too vulnerable. but, it didn’t feel right coming from her.

answering with a short nod, you are a bit too eager to change the topic of discussion, a silent huff of stress leaving your faded plum stained lips as your best friend furrows his brows at your standoffish behavior, “y’okay?” he mouths, softly nudging your shin with the tip of his converse.

“i’m okay,” you mouth back, a soft smile on your pillowy lips as you steal a quick glance at mr. cameron who catches your sneaky gaze, sending you a quick wink as he takes a sip from his glass of chilled red wine.

licking over your dry lips, you swallow thickly, popping a warm and fluffy piece of bread into your needy mouth as mr. cameron’s long and slender leg brushes against yours. fighting back a smile, you remain silent as mrs. cameron enlightens the table about her new endeavors at cameron development, your eyes glazed over as you quietly hook your leg over his firm thigh.

honing your focus into chewing the piece of bread in your mouth, you watch from the corner of your bambi eyes as rafe inconspicuously slides a large hand over the smooth skin of your waxed leg.

now lost in the sensation of mr. cameron’s hand gently kneading soothing circles around your ankle, your eyes widen as rafe’s voice cuts into your dazed state, “y’seem pretty sleepy over there, dolly — everything a’ight?” he questions knowingly, his buzzed head tilted to the side as his pink lips part in anticipation of your next words.

feverishly nodding, you send rafe a forced courteous smile, “yes, mr. cameron — just sleepy,” you answer politely.

returning his attention to his son and wife, rafe keeps a tight hold on your small ankle, the cold bite of his wedding band digging into your warmed and bronze skin. you always loved to prance around tannyhill barefoot, you’re pretty pink toes on full display, ever since your younger days.

and rafe was painfully reminded of that, a feigned smile of interest on his handsomely structured face as he gave your cute little toes a gentle squeeze, every now and again.

all while his poor son and unsuspecting wife sat and ate their overly priced steak dinner.

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #bfd!rafe #dolly!reader #rafe x reader

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heaven4lostgirls · 6 months

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promises and dreams

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warning: angst, mentions of throwing up and blood, canon typical death and violence included!

summary: finnick odair is your best friend, but somehow you cant find it within yourself to be aanything more. Now that the 75th Hunger Games calls for Victors to be reaped you make it your plan to bring Finnick back home to Annie or you will die trying

word count: 1.3k

a/n: sorry ive been gone for so long! i have just finished uni so i am working on getting some more content out as soon as i can! have this to tide you over in the mean time but i can't wait to get back to posting! part 2?

part 1, part 2, part 3

You were sitting in the victors village of district 4 as you turned on the television to listen to the reaping news for the 75th Hunger Games. Your glass on the table in front of you was filled with amber liquid to quell the anxiety you felt as you hear Snow’s grating voice flood your home. Your hands are shaking as you’re forced to relive the memories of your own hunger games, which you had won at only 16.

The victors that came after you were mentored by either you, or Finnick Odair, the Capitol’s prince. You had a harder time disassociating from being a mentor when your tributes were in the games, Finnick always seemed so determined to get them sponsors and help them in any way he could but for you, it was almost as worse as being in the games yourself.

Finnick and you had always been close, only drifting apart when his womanly companions found it necessary, he spend more time with them rather than you. You couldn’t blame them, if Finnick was yours you too would probably be uncomfortable but that never meant it hurt any less to see your best friend discard you as though you were nothing.

The only person you could never find it in yourself to dislike was ironically the only one of his partner’s that never dismissed you, Annie Cresta. She was the epitome of beauty to you, there was no question about why Finnick fell in love with her. She had been dealt just as bad of a hand in her own games and the both of you had found solace in one another. She could not have been a better fit for Finnick and although your heart felt as though it was shattering each time you were forced to watch him look at her the way you longed, he would look at you, you stayed strong.

That was how you found a paternal comfort in Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen’s mentor, he was one of the only people who understood how easy it was for you to turn to drinking in favour of trying to find your tributes sponsors because of your own trauma. He knew just as well as you did just how hard your games were for you; you had fought tooth and nail to make it back to your family only for them to turn you away in disgust for the atrocities you had committed in the games.

One of them always haunting you, You and 12-year-old George were the last tributes standing in the arena and you knew straight away that there was no way you would be going home, you couldn’t kill him. That was until he ran to attack you and in a strike of defence you had pushed him, he had landed on one of the spears of the dead tributes. His lifeless eyes have haunted your nightmares to this day.

As you tune back into the Capitol TV, you hear Snow’s voice state, “…the third quarter quell games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors from each district”. Your heart thuds inn your chest as bile rises in your throat. You can feel your eyes burning with unshed tears as you disconnect from reality. The only thing that brings you back is the realisation that the other victors may just as well be in the same predicament.

You get up to go to Finnick’s house, the light is on, so you know he must be at home so as you knock on the door, shaking on the front step in either coldness or fear, you’re no longer sure, you’re greeted with Finnick’s hard gaze as he opens the door to let you in. You whisper a small greeting as your eyes travel to the couch in front of the TV where Annie sits, she’s a mess of tears and you can only hold off for so long before you make your way towards her to comfort her.

Finnick watches the both of you in pain and worry as you try and keep yourself composed to focus on Annie, you know just how hard it must be for her, she had never truly been okay after her games so right then you had made the decision. If Annie’s name was ever called, you would volunteer for her, you could not sit at home and watch one of your best friends relive their pain on national television as you sat back and did nothing.

“I can’t believe this; how can they do this? After our games we were supposed to live! I can’t go back there” Annie says, and you softly rock the both of you as you rub her back, you look over her shoulder to where Finnick is standing and watching you both as his features tighten in anger.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise, you’re not going into that arena, okay?” Annie pulls away and looks up at you in shock and she’s shaking her head as she lifts her hand to her mouth to stifle her sobs. “You can’t” She says, and you smile back at her as you tuck her long hair behind her ear as you move to hug her, whispering in her ear, “I will make sure he comes back to you” and Annie squeezes you tighter.

You realise then that whatever happens in the reaping and the games, that its much bigger than you. Since Finnick had a high chance of volunteering for any of the younger and older victors you knew that it was up to you to bring him back home. He had a reason to come back, Annie needed him more than you did, and you acknowledge that even if he had never loved you the same way you may love him, that with you dying breath you would make sure he came back to Annie.

The day of the reaping, you stood in the middle of Annie and Mags as they took out the name for the female tribute, “The female tribute from District 4 is, Annie Cresta-“ Before the announcer is done speaking your mouth moves without thinking, “I volunteer as tribute.” You state with confidence and hear Annie flinch as tears rise in her eyes. You let go of her hand and walk to the front of the podium, the announcer looks at you in shock and sympathy before she announces, “Our Volunteer in place of Annie Cresta, Y/N Y/LN!” she states.

You feel Finnick’s hard gaze on you as they wait for the announcement of the male tribute. When Finnick’s name is called, your heart clenches in pain at the thought of your best friend having to see you die in the arena. His demeanour instantly switches to play the part of the Capitol’s prince as he makes his way to stand next to you. You both smile at the crowd as you make your way towards the train to say goodbye to your loved ones.

As Finnick and Annie say heartfelt goodbye’s you realise that nobody has come to see you, you wipe the tears pooling in your eyes as Annie turns to you after saying bye to Finnick, she runs and hugs you and thanks you softly in your ear. You squeeze her tightly and reiterate your previous promise before you’re met with the solemn gaze of Finnick.

You nudge him with your arm and playfully tease him, “That looks isn’t very Capitol Prince of you Finn”, his strained smile does not go unnoticed, but you attest it to the pain of having to relive the games however the only thought running through Finnick’s mind is how he plans on keeping you safe.

Somehow you both think that trying to save the other might just be your own downfall.

#juliwrites #hunger gaames #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #thg finnick #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair hurt/comfort #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair hc #finnick x oc #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games trilogy

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readychilledwine · 20 days

Text

Home to Me

Summary - After the death of Beron, Lucien is finally free to move to the Day Court, and he could not be more ecstatic to have you and Elain by his side

Warnings - moving anxiety, Helion being the best father in law, fluff

Prompt - Day 4 - Adventure

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I was really excited to play with Elucien and a Spring Court reader. Something about them as a trouple with another flower girl makes my heart skip.

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

Freedom was a concept Lucien so rarely knew. From living under his father's thumb to Tamlin's command to Rhysand's control, it had always felt like a goal, some far-off dream he would never reach.

Until he met Elain, of course. Elain, as difficult as chasing her was, quickly became his light. He had made her chase him in return for the years of waiting, and she had fought tooth and nail for him. He had never met someone with so much love to give, and who wished to give it so freely.

Meeting you just made sense due to that. Elain had met you in Spring as they were helping Tamlin with rebuilds where you personally were in charge of the garden overhauls due to your powers. He would never forget the way Elain ran back into the house, sliding down the wall as she held her heart, and Briar rushed to her as she whispered "Mate," over and over again.

Lucien went to where she had been and stopped. Your kind was rare, but there you were, iridescent wings tucked on your back, shifting yourself to a smaller size to move pollen from flower to flower. “Ah, y/n,” Tamlin had admired you as Lucien did. “She will be fine with all of this. They are all used to marrying in pairs.”

Courting you had been the easiest thing both of them had ever done. Lucien had joked you were a simple female. You were wooed by shiny things, by chocolates left at your door late at night, by long walks through your garden. Elain adored you first, but Lucien fell in love the hardest. You were so kind, so gentle. He could hardly imagine life without you or Elain.

Now, 10 years later, that life could openly be a reality. He put the last of your boxes into the portal Helion had opened from your home in Spring to the home you three would share in Day, clapping his hands together as it closed.

Elain was already there, unpacking and decorating the home. She wanted it to feel as safe and loving as possible for you, seeing as you had never once left the Spring Court borders in your 300 years of life.

You were the most nervous of the 3, moving to Day was a lot to ask of you, but with Beron finally gone, Lucien was free to be with his dad, to be home, and you and Elain both wanted to give him this chance. He deserved it. He had earned it.

He found you in your garden, overlooking centuries of hard work, “Blossom, are you ready to go?” His heart almost sank as you quickly wiped your cheeks before turning.

“Of course!” The lie was so obvious it was almost insulting as he walked to you and took your upper arms in his large hands.

“You're frightened?” You could only nod. “Tamlin promised to care for the home. You will be back here every Autumn and Winter along with the honeybees and butterflies. Your garden will be fine, my love.”

“It's not the garden. This whole thing is just scary.” You both paused as the sound of winnowing came followed by Elain's soft footsteps.

“Tulip?” She ran the distance to you, tugging you into her while being mindful of your delicate wings. “My heart, what's wrong?”

Lucien answered for you, pulling you both to him. “She's a little scared of the move.”

Elain hummed, kissing away the tear that fell on to your cheek. “I can't imagine how hard it is, leaving behind all you've ever known by choice. You are so brave for our happiness. Your fear is so justified, y/n. I can understand that part, trust me.”

“If you want to stay,” Lucien's throat tightened at the thought. “We will make this work. We can-”

“No,” you sighed, heavily leaning into them. “I want to be with you. Both of you. This is just a whole new experience and a new world and a new high lord.”

“If I am what you are worried about, I am pleased to inform you there is nothing to be afraid of.”

Lucien looked down at you two, metal eye whirling as the other rolled. “Dad, we're having a moment here.”

“And I am joining. Come here, sweet pixie.” Lucien And Elain released you, allowing you to move to the Lord of Day. “I know your kind was hunted outside of this court, but I promise you, you and those precious wings will be safe in my home.”

That slow realization hit Elain and Lucien like bricks. They were asking you to leave Spring, a place your kind had been allowed to make a haven, and you had selflessly agreed. “Your new home is within the walls of my palace. No guards or guests will be able to get to you without my approval, and you will have your own guards approved by Lucien and Elain. You will be safe to fly and pollinate all you wish. My gardens could use that.” Helion kissed your hand where the rose gold and pink diamond ring sat. “Give Day a chance. Let it be your first big adventure.”

You nodded at him, letting your father in law take your hand. “My butterflies and bees are already there?”

“They are.”

"And they are happy?"

"They are dining on the most exotic pollen and nectars they have ever had. They were very excited about the move." Helion offered you a soft smile as Lucien and Elain both tugged the bond.

You turned to them, taking one last moment to memorize them in the archway of Wisteria and Roses. “Alright. I'm ready.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist:

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #acotar x reader #lucien vanserra x elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #lucien x reader x elain #elucien x reader #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek 2023 day 4

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proxima-writes · 7 months

Text

Title: No Closer Could I Be To God

Pairing: Post-outbreak!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary:

The closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

Dear Reader:

This one is for the homies with religious trauma. If you enjoy this little fic, please comment or reblog! Title art is "Through Cataclysm" by Andreas Birath (b. 1974).

Warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), infidelity, no use of y/n, no reader description or age, single POV - Joel, post-outbreak Jackson, heavy religious themes and imagery, unprotected p in v, oral sex - f receiving, dirty talk, pet names, begging.

Joel Miller gave up on the notion of a benevolent god around the time the light faded from his daughter’s eyes and he was left to hold her lifeless body. Since then, he’s only seen glimpses of that former goodness in the world — in Tess and the way she fought tooth and nail for their survival and in Ellie, once she quit being such a pain in the ass.

But perhaps the closest he’s been to a god in these last few miserable years has been between your thighs.

“Joel!” You cry out, squirming beneath his tight grip. He’s got you laid out on the work bench, thighs hugging his head as he licks and sucks your clit until you’re singing his praises. The storage shed is hot, sweat gathering at his neck and beading at his temple and making his fingers slip against your damp skin.

“Shhh, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth away from your center and licking his lips to gather every drop of you from his flesh. “You’re fuckin’ loud today.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, voice breathy as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” Joel agrees, standing up and leaning forward to steal a kiss, your hot mouth opening immediately for his tongue to explore. You taste like shitty instant coffee and mint, his favorite flavor as long as you're the source. “‘M sorry.”

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scratching against his scalp. He drags his lips across your jaw, down your neck, sinking his teeth briefly against your pulse point to make you shiver.

The modest dress you’re wearing is rucked up around your waist and Joel reaches down to slip his fingers past the elastic of your underwear, sinking two digits inside of you and groaning at how tight you are, how warm and wet you get for him. Your quiet whimper reaches his ears and he wishes he could hear you without restraint, wishes he knew how loud you could be. He’s fairly certain it’s as close to a choir of angels he could ever get.

Especially since he’s destined for hell. But that’s neither here nor there. Right now, he’s in heaven.

He removes his fingers, reaching up to slip them past your lips for a quick clean. Your tongue glides across his fingertips and your eyelids flutter shut as he uses his free hand to work his belt open with clumsy movements. He shoves his jeans and boxers down his hips, just enough to expose the hard length of his cock.

Joel pulls his hand away from your face, using his spit slick fingers to pump himself. With his other hand, he reaches into the chest pocket of his flannel shirt for his knife.

Your eyes go wide as he pops the blade open, slipping the cold steel beneath the elastic of your panties and tugging sharply. The fabric snaps, echoing your gasp, your mouth dropped open in surprise. He doesn’t give you long to recover, sliding his cock through your wet folds and smiling in satisfaction as your expression shifts from incredulity to pleasure.

“You ready?” Joel grunts, his tip catching at your entrance. You nod your head rapidly, but he’s in the mood to hear you beg. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Please, Joel,” you murmur. Your lashes glisten with captured tears and the sight makes his blood run hot. “Please, please, please!”

Joel presses forward, sinking into your body with ease. You have one hand on the workbench behind you to support yourself but the other grips his shoulder tightly, fingernails sure to leave little indents in his skin even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Christ,” he hisses, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Always feel so fuckin’ good. How is it always so fuckin’ good?”

“Need you to move,” you reply. “Please, Joel.”

And what is he if not your good and faithful servant?

Joel draws his hips back and thrusts sharply, lifting his head to watch your face as he does. This is his favorite part, staring into the Garden of Eden, enjoying his forbidden fruit. You whimper and moan, teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep quiet.

When he feels that knot of pleasure coiling tight in his belly, he curses and chases it all at once. It’s always over too soon when all he wants is to worship at your altar for eternity.

“Angel,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your low back as your own circle his shoulders. “Need you to come for me, baby.”

You whine, high and petulant. “No, no, no,” you chant, “Not yet.”

Joel leans forward to capture your lips with his, the action more of a sharing of breath that lacks any coordination of a proper kiss. He slips his hand between your bodies to circle your clit, the responding moan swallowed by his greedy mouth.

“Good thing you don’t make the rules,” he grunts, hips stuttering as you begin to squeeze around him. He may not inherit the kingdom of god, but he at least got a glimpse of heaven today.

Your legs drop from around his waist and he lifts his head to find your gaze. He always worries what he’ll see — disgust, guilt, and shame have all been reflected back at him before. But today…today you just smile softly, your skin damp with sweat and your lips swollen from his kisses and your teeth.

“Joel,” you murmur, pressing a palm to his cheek. “I have to go.”

Joel nods, knowing you’re right. He’s kept you long enough. Gray light filters through the dirt caked window of the little shed and you should get back to your home to get ready for Sunday service.

“I’ll see you around,” he replies, wrapping a hand behind your neck to pull you forward and give you one last hungry kiss before stepping away to right his pants. He holds a hand out to you to help you down from the work bench and watches as you fix your dress.

You give him one last watery smile before leaving through the flimsy wooden door. It slams back against the frame, the sound sharp to Joel’s ears. He sighs, counting to himself as he catalogs the spiderwebs and rusted tools in the shed.

There’s a flash of white in the corner of his eye. The mangled fabric of your panties sits discarded on the ground, and he leans forward to pick them up, pocketing them. For what, he’s not sure, but he’ll take any piece of you he can get.

Even if it’s just the part you’ve carelessly left behind.

________

Later, your husband stands at the dented podium to deliver his Sunday morning sermon to the good people of Jackson who still turn to religion for comfort and guidance. Joel isn’t one of those people, but he sits on a rough wooden bench across the aisle from you. Your panties are still tucked away in his pocket and he wonders if you’ve cleaned up already, or if you’re still full of him even as you sit there watching your husband.

“…And we see this spoken of in Proverbs 7:25 — ‘Do not let your heart turn to her ways or stray into her paths. Many are the victims she has brought down; her slain are a mighty throng. Her house is a highway to the grave, leading down to the chambers of death’.”

Joel looks towards you as the words settle among the crowd. Your gaze remains steadfastly on your husband, but your hands move restlessly in your lap. When Joel looks up at the podium, he finds your husband’s righteous glare trained on him.

Maybe Joel was wrong. He hasn’t found heaven in you.

He’s just found a deeper hell.

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #tw infidelity #tw cheating #tw religious themes #tw religious mention #tw religious imagery

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strwberri-milk · 4 months

Note

that one post about them carrying your vision after you die gave me another idea

They're in a battle, a life-or-death moment. They don't believe they're making it out alive out of this one. Yet, they will fight to the end.

And as they give one last almost desperate attack reader's vision activates, reacting with their own vision and taking down the enemy. Ala the kazuha-raiden moment from the archon quest.

How would they react to this? Maybe if you need someone more specific, how would Diluc, Kaeya and Childe?

Diluc was never the same after your death. He thought about you all the time, somehow even more often than when you were alive. He hung onto your vision constantly, hanging it on his hip next to his own. To him, it was almost as though even in death you were able to seek out the warmth you'd often look for whenever he came home from a hard day of work.

When he's staring down the face of death once again he doesn't even think. He's fighting with everything that he's got, knowing that if he's lucky enough to see you at the end that he'll be able to proudly tell you that he fought his hardest

He thinks he's about to die when he feels your vision lighting up alongside his. For a brief moment he feels as though your hand has come to rest on his, squeezing the back of it lightly as he somehow manages to take out his target, a flash of your elements combined startling him.

He stares at the vision beginning to go dull, not sure what it meant. He decides to take it as a sign that you want him to continue fighting, striving to awaken your vision again in another fight for his life.

Kaeya fights every fight as if it's his last. He doesn't know what to do outside of overwork himself to death, each day dragging on and on. He practically never sleeps, the silence that closes in being far too loud for him to be able to rest.

He's fighting again, hands shaking from over exertion of his vision and he can feel the hypothermia beginning to set in. He knows if he dies here it's a mix of the enemy and his own vision turning against him. He won't be able to hang his head high if he dies from his vision but he can't help but care.

Suddenly, a burst of energy runs through his body and he feels himself rushing forward and plunging his sword through the chest of a the beast, watching as it dies and somehow, he feels better. He looks down to see your vision beginning to fade just as quickly as it lit up, desperately holding onto it to see if he can feel your life lighting it.

When it fades away he still feels some sense of peace in his soul. Somehow, it gives him some respite to know that you were there, helping to save his life once again. It's after this that he really starts trying to be better, for both of your sakes. He knows wherever you are, you wouldn't want him to be living like this and he tries to live better.

Childe already was battle hungry and this was something even worse. After your death nothing could make him feel alive except for the adrenaline running through his veins. All he can feel is that nervous rush - anything else barely registers with his overloaded senses.

He fights harder and harder every time, never feeling any of the wounds he receives and barely realising he's bleeding out until someone tells him he is. It's one of those moments that's got him here, almost dead as he closes his eyes and thinks of you.

At that moment a burst of energy like he's never felt before. With it, he's able to stand over the defeated body, looking at himself for the first time in months. He knows it's your vision, that somehow, your energy was inside of him just as fast as it left him.

Unfortunately, he spends the rest of his life chasing that high. He desperately wants to feel it again, hang onto that feeling of your presence beside him once again. He'll do everything he can, fighting tooth and nail until one day, he realises he's chasing a dream long dead.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader

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frenchbreads-writing · 1 year

Text

Proposing to Ghost wasn’t a grand spectacle full of bright lights and cheering crowds nor was it getting down on one knee and presenting a ring surrounded by close friends and flying doves.

It was out on the battlefield, full of shouting and deafening gunfire and artillery.

The two of you were covered head to toe in dirt and grime hearts and minds racing as you fought tooth and nail for your lives.

Your proposal was sudden and desperate.

The two of you were pinned down behind an overturned truck by enemy gunfire counting the seconds for backup hoping they got there before the only thing they could bring back home were dog tags.

You were down to your sidearm and Simon had only a few rounds left in his rifle.

He slumped against the warm metal eyes closed racking his brain on how he could possibly get you both out of this when a hand suddenly gripped his shoulder.

“Ghost.”

Simon cracked his eyes open and turned to be met with your intense expression.

“Yeah?”

You sniffed and raised your hand to rest on the back of his neck and tugged him closer so your foreheads touched looking him directly into his eyes.

“If we get out of this shithole alive I want you to marry me Riley.”

Simon doesn’t become speechless often but right now with his boyfriend holding him close and looking at him as if they aren’t nearly out of ammo and surrounded by enemy soldiers.

All he could do was let out an exasperated laugh.

“You have shite timing. You know that?”

#frenchbread's writing #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost modern warfare #simon riley x reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley #simon riley mw2 #ghost mw2 #x male reader #cod x male reader

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lavendertales · 1 year

Note

hey!! this request is very angsty hehe but could i pls request a fic where the reader gets shot in the stomach, same as sarah, and joel has to try to save her and she survives and just protective as hell joel afterwards?? thank you sm 🫶

illusory light || Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: when you get hurt, it triggers an overly-protective side of Joel.

word count: 980

A/N: established relationship; talk of wounds & blood; angst mixed with some fluff too.

gif: @dilfgifs

It all happened too fast, much too fast for Joel to react properly.

His ears were ringing, his surroundings blurry as he fell to his knees and held your blood body in his arms. He held you tightly, manically inspecting you and applying pressure to your stomach while you groaned in pain.

“I know, I know,” he kept repeating, his own hands bloody and shaking by then.

“J-Joel—“

“I know, darlin’, I know, I got you—you’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”

You couldn’t get much words out; the pain was white hot in your body, weakening you with each passing moment. The way Joel was clinging onto you, so desperate and frantic, you couldn’t bear to think what this was doing to him.

You knew he went through something similar before.

You knew what he went through with his daughter Sarah, how devastated he still was from that alone. And to lose someone else now, the woman he was so helplessly in love with…

This would destroy him.

You fought tooth and nail to not succumb to the pain. You fought as hard as you could, struggling to remain conscious and alert, right there with Joel, in his arms. Though it was difficult to do so when you began to feel all warm and cozy, you did hear Joel begging you to stay with him as you dozed off.

Stay with me. Come on, baby, come on, please… please, c’mon, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay, I got you… I got you, I’ll—I’ll take care of you—

For weeks Joel nursed you to health. He wouldn’t let you carry any supplies or even walk up a flight of stairs. Weeks went by while he tried finding the person who shot you, to no avail. You insisted he stay with you, and as usual, he obliged. If you needed him, he’d be there for you.

Joel Miller was yours in every thinkable and unthinkable way.

Even after you recovered, Joel still made a fuss over you and made sure you were safe. His kindness didn’t run out, as he so often claimed. No; Joel still had love to give, and you could tell as much from every touch he carefully laid on your body, every peck pressed gently over your lips, and every gaze he threw at you, a mixture of admiration and melancholy.

“Joel?”

You called out to him, out of habit perhaps, but out of the sheer desire to simply see him, to be with him. Joel’s head popped from the other room, the dusty apartment you settled in over the past weeks providing refuge and comfort, but most importantly, privacy for what you intended to tell him.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“You. Sit down.”

You’ve been curled up underneath a blanket on the couch for a good three days and you’ve had just about enough of seeing Joel running around, exhausting himself whilst trying to do everything by himself.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on the other end of the couch.

You took in a deep breath and stared at him before cupping his cheeks and pulling him, saying “I want you to hear me very well right now. I’m okay.”

Joel blinked, replying with stone cold silence. His eyes roamed over your figure, as if not taking your word for it, but it was increasingly difficult when your hands felt so warm on his cheeks. Warm and alive.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, smiling at him. “My wound closed up, I regained my strength… you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

“You were shot.”

“I’m aware of that. And now I’ve recovered. I’m alive, Joel.”

Something in that statement, so softly spoken, broke Joel. He hadn’t realized that his vision was blurred because of the tears, now stinging his eyes, and only when you pulled him in for a hug did he exhale. Like he had been holding that breath for the longest time, and he could finally feel relief.

You stroked his back and you could feel Joel tensing underneath your touch, then exhaling again and eventually relaxing.

“I thought… I thought you were gonna—“he tried to talk, but you shushed him sweetly.

“I know. I’m sorry I worried you.”

He looked up from your shoulder, eyes teary, so you stroked his cheek and smiled at him. It was unbelievable to him that you were so kind, so intoxicatingly sweet. Sometimes at night he woke up in a sweat, barely aware of the reality surrounding him after his nightmares, and patted your body to his side to make sure that you were there. Most importantly, to make sure that you were real.

Your curl your fingers in his hair, soft and fluffy after the shower he managed to take tonight, and Joel damn near crumbled under your featherlight touch.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you’d—when I thought you were gonna die, I—I couldn’t go through it again. I can’t, not with you.”

You stifled a chuckle, thinking it wouldn’t pan out well to showcase such a giggly attitude when Joel was opening up to you. Instead, you took his hands in yours and held them tightly. The gesture alone helped ground Joel; you knew that because of his panic attacks kicking in at random times, he needed something to hold onto.

You made a silent promise to be that something that was always there for him to rely on.

“I can’t promise that nothing will happen,” you told him. “But I can promise that I’ll be here with you for as long as I can. If you’ll have me.”

Joel finally looked up at you, his face seeming lighter and brighter than a few moments prior. He managed to crack a faint smile as he replied almost instantly, “I’ll always want you.”

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minicoffee00 · 7 months

Text

Fast Changes - Part 2 Azriel x Reader

Plot: You are Feyre’s younger twin and get sent into the Cauldron with your sisters coming out as high fae. What happens on this journey

Im sorry about all the pov changes in the last one from 1st person to 3rd, but it felt like the only way i could easily write it!

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Assault, Nakedness in Public, Angst

Part 1

Time had past, and the queens had been ended up siding with Hybern and betraying both their own mortals and Prythian.

Y/N was now stood in front of Nesta and Elain protectively. They were both still in their silk nightgowns whereas, their sister who’d fought nail and tooth for them when Hybern had come for them, was now stood naked.

There was the promise from Hybern that the guards watching over the three captive sister could ‘do as they please’ with them.

Y/N had stepped forward in order to protect her sisters from the torture, begged Hybern to take her to a separate cell and let it just be her. No harm to come to her sister and they could do as they please with her, but only her.

Hybern had laughed, joking how she wouldn’t survive the wrath of his guards on her own, it would be better to have it split out between the sister. But she continued to beg despite Nesta declining and Elain’s broken sobs.

“Please, leave my sisters be and I will do whatever you want me to. Just don’t touch them. Or any of my other sisters friends please” she’d begged making Hybern grab her right out of the cell and into one further down in the pit.

They had abused her in every way possible while she was in there. Making fun of her, giving her lashings and worst of all, using her for their own pleasure. She felt dirty as she was left everyday with bruises and mud all over her body.

Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian and Mor looked shocked at the youngest sisters appearance. She looked numb to them, void of any emotion. Staring of with a distant look in her eyes.

Feyre couldn’t help but think her time under the mountain was nothing compared to what her sister had gone through here with Hybern.

The groups shock was all silenced and replaced by even more and new shock as Azriel let out a roar of displeasure seeing the girl with her hands tied behind her back, her body fully displayed to the group.

Elain was quietly sobbing trying to reach out to her sister for comfort. But the restraints made her stay still, her gag was caked with her tears. Nesta’s hair was disheveled as if she’d fought like a wildcat, she was panting as she took the group in front of her in. Took in the Cauldron.

Y/N, numb to everything around her wasn’t listening to Hybern and the queens. Not until she saw the exploding light, she could all but stand there and look pained as Cassian’s wings were shredded, to protect Azriel and Mor.

Elain still sobbing attempted to warn her sister of Tamlin’s advances.

Mor attempted to advance the King but Azriels cry of pure pain made not only her stop, but for Y/N to awake from her void state a little.

“Please stop, you promised you wouldn’t hurt them” she said in the most distant voice anyone on the room had heard. Azriel tried to stand up as he saw the king advance to her.

“Dont touch her” Azriel grunts as Mor comes over to him holding the bloody wound closed with her hand and his falling over on top of it.

“She offered herself to my legion to protect all of you and her sisters. But I just guess that wasn’t enough was it now, pet? Now let’s see what you make of eternity” he says as he forces her body towards the cauldron.

She didn’t fight, or ask for him not too, as Tamlin, Lucien, Azriel and Feyre all begged the king not too. She didn’t pull back against the guards that held her so tightly. She just let it be.

She felt the boil of the cauldron as she went in. Her head was forced in and she just sat there. In the black Smokey water of the cauldron.

It was an immense pain, that had made her want to scream but nothing came out. Not until the cauldron was tripped, the water flowing behind her. Her body was drenched in water. Her long hair now wet and clinging around her chest and breasts now concealed by this. She didn’t stand, just sat trying to breath in and out.

Feyre could see the now pointed ears, and as her eyes looked up, they now looked like Feyre’s once again.

Azriel started to thrash against Mor, one word coming from his mouth that shocked everyone.

“Mate” he had groaned. It was almost laughable, he had waited 500 years for his mate, and now just as he had found her, and the bond had snapped. He was dying. Along with Cassian who was now looking worse for wear as he protested for Elain about to be thrown in.

Y/N started to crawl her way towards Azriel, not knowing why only that she had to get to him.

“Alright let’s get on with it. Get the crying one in there now” Hybern had said as Elain was pulled forward, she thrashed around kicking her feet, scared for her life trying to fight her way out.

Y/N had managed to get to Azriel. She replaced Mor’s hand with her own. The wound on Azriel started to heal from the inside out. He gasped as he partly regained his consciousness, to see his mate healing him.

The pain of the healing caused him to loose that energy again.

Tamlin’s eyes fell on the youngest sister. Feeling his anger diffuse as Azriel was healed. He couldn’t describe it but he knew his calmness came from her and he couldn’t explain why.

As Elain came out, fearing for her life. Lucien had given her his jacket to cover her body. A pained look on his face as she shrivelled away from him.

The same happened for Nesta, Cassian had reached a dying arm out towards her. He too loosing consciousness as Nesta was hauled in.

She was kicking screaming and fighting her way out until she was forced in, her head was forced under much like her sister who hadn’t fought to stay afloat but just had.

In Feyre’s mind all the sister had come out different. From however Elain had been Made … Nesta and Y/N were different. Even before Nesta took her first breath, Feyre had felt it. As if the Cauldron in making her … had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought even after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking that Cauldron with her.

Whereas with Y/N, they all could almost hear the Cauldrons laugh. Almost as if it had been playing a game with her.

Y/N was now making her way over to a quivering Elain. Nesta scooped them both towards her as she stormed at them. She’d steadied the both of them. Nesta’s face was like fury, Elain’s held terror or fear while Y/N’s remained void of anything.

Cassian stirred again hearing Nesta’s cry of anguish as she finally took in her sisters bodies, mainly her youngest one whose body still held bruises and scars across the whole of it, only now washed clean and free of the dirt from the cauldron.

But Elain wasnt looking at Y/N, staring over Nesta’s shoulder. She was looking at Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

At those words, Y/N’s eyes met Azriel who was starting to awake, just as her lack of energy took hold of her and she fainted Nesta fussing over Elain making Tamlin be the one to catch her.

He held the nude girl in his arms, she looks so so similar to Feyre, maybe just maybe he’d picked the wrong twin to come back with him … maybe Y/N was his second chance.

But an almighty growl sounded from on the floor where Azriel was, and he tried to get up with the help from Mor.

Tamlin could smell the bond, it was strong, so strong it burned his nostrils. His eyes widened, knowing that she hadn’t even accepted or fully acknowledged the bond between her and Azriel yet. So why did it smell as strongly as it did?

It shouldn’t smell this strongly until after the female accepts the bond. Was it maybe where she had been made by the cauldron?

Feyre rushed over seeing Azriel’s distress at his mate being held by the enemy and ripped her out of his grasp.

Azriel relaxed a little at the view of Feyre pulling a large shirt over the top of her, she was shivering where she hadn’t worn clothes since they were taken by Hybern but her face still remained that empty void.

“It’s okay, we gonna get you out of here” Feyre murmured brushing a hand through her sisters hair, tears in her eyes.

Her mind was numb as her sister moved her over to the crew, so that she could have Rhys help hold her upright, when Rhys touched her she immediately stiffened. His touch was painful, and it was as if that touch made her feel all the emotions he was currently feeling, anger, resentment, sadness, longing, defeat, guilt, worry and an overwhelming amount of fear.

She held her head in pain, it was all too much, the noise in the room was suddenly at an ear bleeding level, and her palms had collected a decent amount of sweat aswell as across her brow. It wasn’t a warm sweat though where she was burning up, it was a cold one that made her shiver.

As it all got too much, she succumbed to the noise, only wanting to drown it out, darkness taking over.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #azriel x reader

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kiyoomi-levin · 3 months

Text

somethin' new (miya twinsxF!reader) <NSFW>

a/n i'm working on like 3 other fics rn but i found this in my drafts and thought it was good enough to publish (with a LOT of polishing ofc). I'm new to smut writing so I'm very insecure abt this but i hope u enjoy

summary::: your older brother atsumu likes watching porn. and the twins like trying shit out on you. aka porn w plot osamu focus bc he's best boy word count::: 2.9k warnings/triggers!!!::: non-con, step-cest, stockholm syndrome-ish, the miya twins are really fucking mean and possessive, double penetration (my fave! <33)

People think the Miyas are scariest when they lose, when they're arguing with each other, or when they're distracted during a serve.

But you know them better–actually, you know them best.

They're scariest when they're fucking you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I was watchin' porn yesterday and I wanna try somethin' new," Atsumu announces as he walks through into the living room, tossing his volleyball bag onto the couch.

Osamu rolls his eyes, continuing to flip through his textbook at the kitchen table.

"Why the hell would you watch porn when you got ‘er right here?" Osamu snaps back, hardly glancing up. Atsumu’s eyes shift to you as you squirm on Osamu’s lap uncomfortably.

Osamu continues casually stroking your pussy with one hand as the other holds you down.

You’re shaking– he’s been at this for twenty minutes now, reading his lecture notes as he continuously edges you. You haven’t given in yet, though.

You know he’s just waiting for you to beg him for it.

It's still hard to believe that you’re dripping on his lap and he won’t stop memorizing vocabulary for his upcoming exam.

As a final year university student, Osamu’s been under a lot of pressure. What better way to alleviate it than to play with his favorite toy?

Atsumu takes in the scene in front of him, smirking when he makes eye contact with you. You quickly turn away.

Although the twins share you, it still feels wrong when one of them catches you in the act with the other.

“Ya sure you don’t even wanna hear? I know you’ll like it, ya freak,” Atsumu says, now glancing at his brother.

You shiver at Atsumu’s words and Osamu frowns as he moves his hand away from your lap.

"Fine. Out with it, asshole," he murmurs, finally distracted from his studies. He shoves his papers aside, full attention on you now. From the corner of your eye, you see Atsumu light up.

It’s almost comical to see the twins this way.

Always fighting, always competing— but when it comes to you they're a single organism.

"I was watchin' my favorite porn star-- ah, don't be jealous, y/n! I only watch her for inspiration because she's freaky-- and I saw her take two in one hole."

Your eyes widen.

You wouldn't be able to take it.

"No, please," you whisper, holding your breath. Osamu’s body flexes under you reflexively.

When have you become such a pussy?

You were always the outspoken, little step-sister who fought her brothers tooth and nail for the last slice of cake.

Nobody could have excepted them to fuck the brat out of you within a month of moving in together.

Osamu surprisingly agrees with you.

"Nah. I'm not into rubbin' dicks with you," he says, both hands on your chest now. The thought of being that close to a naked Atsumu makes him grimace.

Atsumu rolls his eyes.

"I'm not into that shit either, but I wanna see her take it." You wince as Osamu pinches your nipples, hard. He's gone completely silent, which isn't a good sign.

“It’ll be a little painful, but I know she’ll be able to pull through,” Atsumu continues, carefully watching Osamu’s expression.

The Miya fans would be shocked to discover that Osamu's a sadist, more so than Atsumu.

While Atsumu wipes away your tears, Osamu enjoys watching them stream down your face.

When Osamu doesn't respond, Atsumu sighs and rubs his head, frustrated. He’d been looking forward to this since last evening, when he had to jerk off to the sounds of you and Osamu going at it.

"Fine then. I'll try it myself with a toy. I bought a new dildo for her, ya know. And it's bigger than you."

No further words are needed—Osamu pulls his hands out of your shirt, and you feel him physically fuming behind you.

He's possessive, stupidly so, and hates when Atsumu buys you disgusting silicon toys and shit.

He really doesn't understand his twin sometimes.

Why buy toys, why watch porn, when you, his adorable, precious little bitch, exists?

Osamu would rather lose a game at nationals before you cum off a piece of vibrating plastic.

And he won't admit it, but deep down he's scared. Scared that it'll satisfy you better than he can.

The less competition, the better. He's already competing with Atsumu on a daily basis.

Atsumu, who can make you squirt faster than he can. Atsumu, who makes you laugh. Atsumu, who, Osamu knows, you favor.

Maybe it's because the little shit handles you just a little better in bed.

Osamu picks you up from classes, purchases expensive jewelry and takes you out to get sweets every week, you still shy away from his touches.

So Osamu has given up-- if you're gonna hate him anyways, he'll do whatever he wants.

And that’s why you’re always left a humiliatingly wet mess whenever he uses you.

"Fine. Ya better take a shower first, you fuckin' freak," Osamu says, pushing you off his lap.

Atsumu smirks, cracking his fingers and wrists.

"You be preppin' her, 'Samu."

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

It feels good, but you don't want to admit it.

You’re lying on your shared king-sized bed, trying to hold back tears and moans as Osamu eats you out, pumping three of his long fingers into you quickly.

Between the two of them, Atsumu can get you to cum faster. But Osamu gets you to cum harder. His every move is calculated–from every lick to every moment of rest he gives you.

Osamu's on a mission to get you to beg.

"Samu, please," you breathe, gripping the bed sheets. You feel him smiling, and you grip at the bedsheets. All the teasing he’d been doing before Atsumu got home is quickly catching up to you.

“What was that?” He asks, his dark eyes taking in the conflicting emotions washing over your face. When you don’t respond, he leans back and slaps your pussy, hard. Your eyes widen in pain, and you can’t help the squeak that you release, to his satisfaction.

You’re wet, and he knows it’s not a fluke. You want him. He hasn’t trained you over this past year for nothing.

“‘You aren’t bein’ too mean, are ya?” Atsumu asks, stepping out of the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel. He’s shamelessly naked, hard from hearing your cries from the shower.

Atsumu surveys your body, admiring the marks his twin has placed on you.

A small part of him is thankful his brother is willing to play the role of mean cop. Atsumu gets to reap the rewards of consoling you—although he too enjoys seeing you covered in bruises and left in tears.

He’d never hurt you himself though. He likes cuddling with you and loves the way you laugh at his lame jokes too much.

Osamu snaps him back to reality, standing up as he wipes his shiny lips with the back of his hand.

“She’s ready.”

Atsumu grins. His brother is strangely meek today---probably from you refusing to go to his practice game the other day. You had enjoyed a nice picnic date with Atsumu instead (although that ended with you shaking and moaning in Samu’s arms that night).

“I guess I’m first?”

“Ladies first.”

“You’re a bitch, ya know that?” Atsumu spits, rubbing his dick with his left hand and soaking his right in your wetness. Osamu laughs, pulling off his shirt in a smooth motion.

You, on the other hand, can’t stop shaking. The thought of having two of them in a single hole is almost too much to wrap your head around. With Osamu’s length and Atsumu’s girth, you’re sure you won’t be able to take it.

What if you tear? Surely they’d stop if you beg hard enough.

For now, you can’t do anything but accept this.

From what you’ve observed, when the twins are playful in bed, you shouldn’t resist.

Lost in your thoughts, you gasp as Atsumu yanks you towards him—he’s sitting at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall. You gulp as you find yourself hovering above his dick, facing Osamu, who’s busy tossing Atsumu's towel onto the ground.

“Aw, baby. Calm down, won’t ya? You know it hurts more when you’re nervous.”

Atsumu brings your face towards him, grip so tight you couldn’t turn away if you wanted to.

His rough hands, thick from years of volleyball training, gently smoothes out your hair, and he begins to press kisses on your jawline. The motion is so welcoming that you momentarily forget he’s the one to propose this in the first place.

Osamu sighs, frustrated.

“Get on with it, won’t ya?”

Atsumu frowns at him, pulling away from you.

“And that, ‘Samu, is exactly why she likes me better than ya,” he says, slamming you onto him in a single motion.

It hurts!

You groan, fingers twitching. It hurts already, he’s especially hard today. What’re you going to do when it gets to the meaner twin?

Atsumu pets your clit, grinning as he feels you begin to melt into his chest. He knows exactly how you like it. That spongy spot, right… there. Your groan turns into a moan as he shifts his hips, aiming to reach deep inside of you.

Osamu doesn’t break eye contact with you as he slowly gets onto the bed. He’s in no hurry, unfortunately.

If he wasn't such an asshole, you'd find him hot.

You really do love his gorgeous eyes and gray hair.

"Stop bein' a dick and get on with it," Atsumu says. He scowls at his brother, who continues to simply stare at you.

Both of them know Osamu doesn't want to actually hurt you. He'd never break you.

You're too precious.

"W-what?" Your shaky voice intrudes into his thoughts.

You've gone red and stopped clawing at Atsumu's unrelenting hand.

Did he say that out loud? He must have, because Atsumu is laughing now.

Fuck.

This isn't the time to be embarrassed, though.

Osamu reaches forward, lining his dick next to his brother's.

To be honest, he was never opposed to the idea.

Yeah, Atsumu's a disgusting pig, but he's his twin.

There's an unbreakable bond between them and knowing they share so much DNA sometimes makes Osamu feel as though they're just one person in two bodies. He’s honestly willing to try anything that Atsumu proposes (except get him off, of course, he’ll leave that to you).

Taking a deep breath, he begins to push, using his precum as lube.

Fuckkkkkk.

Osamu's pretty sure everyone had the same thought at that exact moment.

It's so tight. It's so warm. It’s hurting you, for sure. But it feels too good to stop.

For you, it’s suffocating, being stuck between two muscular twins. And, once again showcasing their unspoken connection, they begin to carefully move in and out of you at the same pace.

It hurts now, and tears are burning behind your eyes, but there’s that little voice in your head telling you to just relax and enjoy it—it’ll feel good.

Why? Why does it have to feel so good when this is all wrong?

Fundamentally, twins shouldn't be sharing the same girl, at the same time.

That same girl should especially not be their little sister whom they've been older brothers to for a decade.

But what does it matter now?

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

Atsumu's in heaven. This is better than he imagined, actually. He’s decided that he’ll take the easy route, playing with your soft breasts and sucking hickies into your neck. His dick has gone still as he simply enjoys the fast pace Osamu fucks you at.

While there’s a slight burn against his cock every time Osamu moves, the pain only intensifies the pleasure.

Osamu’s eyebrows are furrowed as he focuses on watching his dick pump into you. He wants to curse out Atsumu for being so lazy, but at the same time— he’s always liked to be in charge.

That voice was right, because it’s feeling good now. Your brain buzzes pleasantly and you’re losing control of your legs.

Atsumu's moaning into your ear, Osamu's grunting with every push, and you feel hyper aware of every motion as you're slipping away.

The dull lights of the room begin to blur.

You're crying now. Your toes are curling and drool slips out of the corner of your mouth. How stupid you must look right now.

How long has it been? 5 minutes? 5 hours?

It has to be at least that long or else the numbness that you’re beginning to experience down there doesn’t make any sense.

Atsumu has resumed his efforts in making you feel good, overstimulating every fiber of your being as he wipes away your tears and nuzzles your neck. It’d be an innocent gesture if he wasn’t rubbing circles onto your clit.

Osamu has been working like a well-oiled machine, admiring your broken face and how good his lower half feels, circulating adrenaline throughout his body.

Just looking at you, choked up and crying, is enough.

"I'm cumming..." he whispers. No, he’s not. He can’t.

Not before his stupid twin does. And certainly not before you do.

"Come on, baby, beg for it," Atsumu whispers into your ear, as if he can read his brother’s thoughts.

Maybe they do have some sort of telepathy. Atsumu reaches forward and gently pushes down on your lower belly. You groan immediately. The slight pressure has your walls rubbing against their dicks even tighter now, and Osamu’s now grinding against that spot you love.

You’re gonna cum. Or pass out. Maybe both.

"Please!" You shout. Fuck pride. "Please, please, please, ‘Samu, please cum."

Annnd he’s coming. Osamu reaches out, grasps your neck, and squeezes.

Your cries are the only thing he can hear, loud enough to drown out Asumu’s words, and he’s losing sensation in his hips—

“Fuck, I love you, y/n…” Osamu says, admiring the way your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

Even as your eyesight flickers, you make out this confession, lips automatically parting to moan.

You tighten as Osamu releases in you, Atsumu following suit shortly after (something he’ll bully Osamu about later, no doubt).

There’s a certain stillness in the room as Osamu immediately slips out of you and turns away. Post-nut clarity’s setting in, and he realizes he’s not as fond of dick rubbing with Atsumu as he was a few minutes ago.

Atsumu’s still panting in your ear, and, after a few moments of rest, gently eases himself out of you. Unlike his usual self (who insists on cuddling with you after the deed, no matter how much bodily fluid you’re covered in) he allows you to roll away from him, still recoiling from the strong orgasm.

Surprisingly, the lazy asshole leaps off the bed first today.

“I’ll be taking a shower first. Alone.”

You muster enough energy to glance at him, then at Osamu. It’s so awkward you’d run out of the apartment if you could.

Osamu knows his brother is being especially kind today, letting him speak to you in private.

As Atsumu strides towards the bathroom, he catches Osamu’s eye and winks, smirking at Osamu’s middle finger.

Osamu can basically hear his twin’s inner voice— this is just payment for the fuck.

You shut your eyes, registering the closing bathroom door. Now that the pleasure has subsided, you realize that you’re just in pain. Your chest and hips, especially, from Atsumu’s relentless teasing and Osamu’s rough handling.

Damn it. You’re meeting with your friends tomorrow, how’re you going to hide these marks on your neck from them?

From the way Osamu had choked you, you’re almost certain there’s going to be a bruise. You do have that leftover, crusty concealer that Atsumu got you a few months back—

“y/n, do you hate me?”

Osamu’s deep voice interrupts your thoughts.

Your mouth instinctively opens, but you hesitate.

No.

“No.”

Because you really don’t. Despite everything they put you through, you can’t bring yourself to hate them.

Osamu lets out a silent sigh of relief, turning back to look at you.

“Do you love me?”

You can’t answer him as quickly this time.

Osamu and Atsumu were your brothers. They had been by your side for all of your childhood.

They were the first ones to teach you how to ride a bike, how to multiply and divide, how to cook rice.

They had been your first love. And even now… you’re relieved they’re with you, not in the bedrooms of other girls.

“I… do,” you admit. Fuck. You’re crazy. You know that. But you do.

Even though you don’t want to admit it, you’re just as twisted as your brothers. You bury your head under the covers as the heat rushes to your face.

“I wanna marry you.” Osamu suddenly announces, ripping back the blanket you’re holding to your face. He examines your blushing cheeks, and reaches down to grab your hand.

Yeah, it’d look much fucking better with a shiny ring. He should look into a jewelry maker first thing tomorrow morning.

“Nope. I already called dibs, ‘Samu,” the blonde haired setter interjects, throwing open the door as if awaiting his cue.

“Like months ago. Actually, years ago.”

Osamu frowns, prepared to retort back that actually, remember that you didn’t even like her when we first met her? You told dad you didn’t want him to marry mom because you didn’t want a sister, you little–

“We’re all Miyas here,” you say, predicting another fight. Despite your tiredness, you can't help but smile.

Yeah, you do love them.

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a/n fun fact: i wrote this while meeting with my business class project group two semesters ago >.< depraved shit FR.. also no final read-through as usual bc i'm literally cringed out by my own writing LOL

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #atsumu smut #miya osamu #miya twins #osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #miya twins smut

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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months

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hiii!! congrats on the 500 followers 🤍 for your celebration, could i request 7 and 13 from the fluff prompts for spencer reid? thanks :]

I giggled when I read this request ABSOLUTELY.

7. Softly smiling at each other across the room; 13. Playing with the other’s fingers

“I will be right back” You kissed Spencer’s hand.

He smiled and nodded at you as you grabbed two champagne flutes off of a tray from a waiter, and headed across the room.

Today, you were receiving an award in recognition for all of your hard work on your research. It’s was a huge opportunity for you since it came with a research grant for you to continue your work.

Spencer could not be more proud of you. He told everyone in his line of sight about you and your accomplishment. The Team would have been fed up with hearing about you if they weren’t just as proud of you.

You had seen one of the benefactors enter with her wife, and wanted to be one of the first ones to greet her, thanking her for her generosity and belief in your work.

Spencer was barely barely pretending to listen to what Emily was telling Rossi, his focus trained on you across the room.

Feeling Spencer’s eyes on you, you briefly looked over the shoulder of the woman you were talking to and met his eyes. Spencer watched as your whole body relaxed slightly under his gaze.

He sent you a quick wink which caused the corners of your mouth to twitch with joy. The Butterflies in your stomach fluttered around.

“You two are so adorable it makes me sick”

Spencer snapped his head back to Emily and Rossi, rolling his eyes. “Thanks Em.”

The three of them laughed softly together.

“Seriously Reid. Where did you find this woman. She’s smart. She’s funny. And she’s intellectual?”

“Ha ha.” Spencer looked back over at you, only to find your eyes on him. You blushed slightly at getting caught and turned back to your own conversation. “But honestly, I have no idea. She is literally the coolest person I know—“

“Hey!”

Spencer laughed slightly at Emily’s objection. “It’s true.”

Just then Spencer felt a hand on his back. He knew your touch better than he knew himself.

“What’s true?”

“Just how incredible you are.” He turned to face you, that bright smile of his coming back to his face.

You smiled warmly at the pair he was standing with. “I really appreciate you all coming, it means a great deal to me.”

Rossi took your hand in both of his and kissed it. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You’re too kind Dave.” You were over come with joy, knowing that you were surrounded by people who cared about you. “Honestly, I’m just glad some psycho-socio-serial-whatever didn’t make you guys fly across the country.”

Just as Emily was about to make a snarky comment about how they would have fought tooth and nail to be at your event, the lights flashed and one of the presenters ‘kind requested everyone made their way to their seats’.

Luckily for you, your table was front and center, one of your least favorite places to be. Spencer was seated to your right, which was helpful since it meant you had to pass him on the way to the stairs to the stage.

He gently placed a hand on your thigh, which was bouncing with nerves and anxieties. It was hard enough to be confident about your work, but hearing someone else describe you and then praise you as an introduction felt a bit much.

But all of those nerves went away when you felt his touch. You quickly slid your hand into his, eyes still focused on the speaker at the podium.

Your other hand quickly found its way to his, and started twisting the band on his ring finger absent mindedly. At least you weren’t causing an earthquake with this habit.

Spencer loved when you fiddled with his ring or his hands. He loved the way you constantly needed to be in contact with him.

Now your fascination with his hands has a myriad of reasons behind it, including ones only said aloud during girls nights with lots of wine. But you loved how soft they were. You’d expect them to be riddled with paper cuts and scars and bruises, rough from handling guns or handcuffs or dropping to the ground more times then he’d ever tell you.

But his hands were the hands of a lover, not a fighter. And it brought you so much peace, just twisting his wedding band, and absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

You only dropped his hand when they called your name.

You immediately picked it up the second you sat back down from your speech, fingers intertwined with his.

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction

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