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#his arms will never cease to amaze me
wormswurld · 4 months
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will never recover from him in british vogue 😔
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tutuandscoot · 2 years
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Favourite part of Latch, please.
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These 3 moments in the circle step seq.
> tell me a VM program (competitive or exhibition) and I’ll gif my fave part
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railingsofsorrow · 8 months
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Recharging. . .
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)
w.c: 3.8K
warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.
A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.
loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home
want to read more works about this au?
→ day-off
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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.
“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.
Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.
“We're visiting daddy!”
A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.
“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”
Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”
“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”
“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”
You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.
“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.
“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”
An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.
From “Spencer”:
[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.
[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.
This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.
It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.
You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.
You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.
“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.
To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”
[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...
You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.
Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.
Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.
Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.
You haven't seen your husband yet.
“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”
Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.
“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.
You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”
JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”
“Preach, Jayge.”
Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.
Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.
You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.
Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.
“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.
The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.
In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.
He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.
They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.
“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”
Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”
“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.
“Mr. Greenie.”
“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.
He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.
“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”
His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.
“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”
Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”
Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.
You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.
His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.
You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.
A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.
“Hey.”
Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.
Good thing your love language is physical touch.
“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.
Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.
“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.
He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.
At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.
“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.
Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.
“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.
The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”
The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.
Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.
“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”
That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.
“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”
Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.
“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”
“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”
“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.
“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”
“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.
You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.
It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.
“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”
Oh, kids.
Now it all made sense.
A shiver went down your spine at the thought.
“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.
“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.
“Spencer.”
“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”
You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.
“I wasn't fast enough.”
“It was not your fault.”
“You weren't there.”
You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.
“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.
“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.
“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”
Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.
That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.
“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”
His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.
“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”
Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.
Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.
“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”
Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.
“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”
You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.
“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”
Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.
“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”
She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.
Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?
The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.
Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.
“Thank you.”
Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.
“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.
“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”
You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.
“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.
“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets
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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.
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awearywritersworld · 6 months
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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend
sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist
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"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.
"i'll pass."
sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.
"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"
"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."
"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."
"it's gotten me this far."
you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.
making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."
he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus
you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.
"what's it about?"
"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."
"your subtly never ceases to amaze."
"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."
he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"
you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"
"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."
he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.
clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.
he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.
"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.
your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."
"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"
"not if you're cheating, now let me see."
"no."
you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.
swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.
with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"
you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."
"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"
you gasp. "so you admit it?"
"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.
"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"
he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."
"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.
he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.
sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.
leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).
"please?" you repeat.
he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.
sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?
no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"
grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.
when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.
"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."
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"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."
you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.
"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."
he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"
sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."
yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"
"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."
"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"
"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.
"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."
"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."
"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.
"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"
yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.
sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."
his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.
but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.
you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.
you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.
"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.
"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.
"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.
yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.
once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"
"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."
when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.
he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.
around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.
he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."
you finally turn to face him. "really?"
"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."
"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"
he shrugs. "you pissed me off."
you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"
"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."
you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"
"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.
"wait. please don't go."
just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.
when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.
"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."
are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.
moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.
he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.
you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.
well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.
"then why are you upset with me?"
his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."
"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"
"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."
he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?
he probably deserves it anyway.
why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?
oh, right. because you care about him.
you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.
once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.
with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.
so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.
it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.
and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.
it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.
he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.
his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.
your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.
he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.
when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."
he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"
his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."
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ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.
upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."
he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.
you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.
"sukuna?"
he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"
you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"
"no reason."
"did you enjoy it?"
"yes."
"why?"
he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"
you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."
"and the creature?"
"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."
you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."
and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:
"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”
his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.
you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.
"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"
"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."
he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."
"and you didn't care for it?"
"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."
your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"
"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."
your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"
he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.
"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."
"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.
he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."
you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.
he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."
he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.
"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"
sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.
"no," he answers decidedly.
looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.
he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.
is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.
"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.
his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.
for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.
he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?
his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"
you tilt your head to the side. "why?"
"because even if it's made me into a monster..."
for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—
"all of my actions have led me to you."
your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.
you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.
as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."
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a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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Let Me Prove You Wrong, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Insecurities About Weight Gain
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
Summary: After finding out her dress doesn't fit, Y/N starts to feel insecure and Rafe wants to get rid of those thoughts.
A/N: Insipred by this post.
Masterlist
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Y/N doesn’t feel insecure often. With someone like Rafe around, it is hard to feel that way with his constant praise. One sight at the doubt of her brilliance and he would literally shut down the whole world until she realized she was the best person ever to exist. As she gets ready for a date with him, she tries zipping up the zipper of her dress, yet it won’t budge. She grows frustrated at the lack of advancement, concluding that she won’t be able to do so because she must have gained some weight. Tears start to bubble at the corner of her eyes, more so that the dress that she adores is no longer in commission for her than the actual weight. It was the dress she wore on her first date with Rafe and she knew how much he loved the dress. She didn’t realize she was taking so long to get dressed until Rafe came up to check on her. Finding his angel on the ground crying is the scariest thing to him. He has no idea what happened or if she is hurt. He rushes to her side and brings her onto his lap. He brushes her hair behind her ear with a kiss on her cheek, “What’s wrong, Angel? Are you hurt?” “No, my dress doesn’t fit anymore,” she whimpers, shoving her head into his neck. He looks at the fallen dress on the floor, “It’s okay. We can pick out another dress for you to wear tonight.” “If that one doesn’t fit, then I doubt the others are going to fit,” she argues. 
“Well, then I’ll cancel our reservations. We can order the greasiest foods I can find and watch the After movies you’ve been wanting to watch.” 
“No, I have to go on a diet. I’ve gotten fatter.” 
Rafe immediately pushes away to look her in the eyes and shakes his head. “No. No. No. Don’t say it like that, Angel. I won’t say that you gained weight or not because we won’t know unless we use a scale, which we aren’t going to do. So we don’t know if the dress doesn’t fit because it shrank or something,” he begins. “But even if you are the reason the dress doesn’t fit, then it doesn’t matter. Because you will still be the most amazing girl in the world. Do you know that it’s been proven the more you gain weight after entering the relationship, the happier you are in it? Weight fluctuation is a perfectly normal thing.” Her head moves from side to side, “If it’s normal then how come you didn’t gain weight too? Are you not happy in our relationship?” “I am ecstatic about our relationship and I can’t tell you why I haven’t gained weight, but if it would make you happy, then I would gain all the pounds in the world to show you how happy I am,” he responds, tucking her back into his side with a kiss to her forehead. She giggles a little, “No, you don’t need to gain weight for me. If you gained all the pounds in the world, I would be worried about your health. I’m just disappointed you won’t be able to give me piggyback rides anymore.” “I will never stop being able to give you piggyback rides,” he scoffs, falling back so he is lying flat on the ground.
He turns her so she is perpendicular against his chest and his hands go under her body. “What are you doing?” she questions at the sudden change of position. He pushes upward, “Let me prove you wrong, Angel.” Y/N is suddenly in the air thanks to his hand movement. His arms don’t even shake a little bit as he leaves her there for a few seconds before he brings his arms back so they are bent. He continues to bring her open and down in his reps until she ceases the point he is trying to make. “Okay. Okay. I get the point. Can you put me down now, please? I’m starting to get lightheaded,” she begs. He brings her back down so she is straddling his hips. “I will always be able to give you piggyback rides and then the moment that I am not going to be able to is when I am going to be a hundred years old with fragile little bones,” he promises, kissing her lips. 
She nods, “I believe you. Can we get something to eat now? I’m hungry.” “Of course, Let’s get some burgers. I want to see how pretty you look wearing my shirt and sweatpants and those are definitely not appropriate for the restaurant,” he informs. He shrugs off his suit jacket and goes to his dresser to get them a change of clothes. 
———
The next day, when she gets back from class, she finds about ten new dresses in her closet. They are all identical to the one she couldn’t put on yesterday, just five are sizes bigger and the others are sizes smaller. She picks up the note on the one that is a size up from her original dress. So you can always wear your favourite dress. I can easily order more if you need them because there is an infinite of these dresses out there, but only one you. I love you, Angel.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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delaber · 1 year
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To Let You Win (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Summary: a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game
Words: 2K
Flufffffff 💖 (with a squint towards a smuttier theme hehe)
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"Holy fuck it's hot in here," Bucky wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and resumes the fighting stance he'd been occupying before exclaiming that he was sweating balls.
"Alright," you laugh and flip the makeshift knife in your hand, "just tell me if you need a break to regain your strength, old man."
"Oh doll, I don't need a break," he grins and threateningly takes a step towards you without blinking, "I can take you with both arms tied behind my back."
There it is again...
One of those ill-timed comments that you try and laugh away in a poor attempt at hiding just exactly how bad they make your stomach churn and the back of your neck prickle.
Pretending that you do not have a major crush on the man standing in front of you has become full of feeble attempts, and to avoid embarrassing yourself, you settle on an equally threatening "I'd like to see you try," accompanied by a playful smile that you cannot hold back no matter how much you try to.
He winks at you before he, without warning, lurches forwards, swinging his fake dagger mere inches from your chest.
He's quick, but you're quicker, and while he's focusing on touching one of the spots you in unison decided would be considered a kill-zone, you jump as high as you can while wrapping your legs around his hips.
Immediately thrown off balance, he falls backwards and lands on the white felt floor with a dull thud followed by a grunt as your weight lands on top of him.
Before he can even move, you've pinned him to the floor with a knee placed on each side of his torso.
"Surrender?" you grin and lean forwards as you press your wooden weapon to his bopping Adam's apple.
"Okay, you got me," he laughs and raises his hands above his head to capitulate.
You know that he can easily flip the two of you around and turn his fake demise to his own advantage; place his entire weight between your legs as his thick thighs glue your hips to the spot, ready to devour you as he sinks his teeth into your neck, filling up the empty hole inside you that's constantly begging for his touch.
God, he smells amazing!
"Sweetheart," he chuckles from far away and you realise you've done it again; become lost as you daydream about your best friend fucking you into oblivion.
"Not that I'm not enjoying this," he places both hands on your hips and gently pushes you back with a stomach-flipping grunt, "- but my back is killing me, and I really need to change out of this shirt."
Your gaze falls to the hand you have carefully placed on top of his sternum, suddenly aware of the wet stains of his t-shirt and the heavy heartbeat drumming below your fingers.
"Of course," you immediately pocket your fake knife and release the grip you have on him as you stand up. "Sorry," you mumble, embarrassed by yourself and your inability to play it cool whenever you're around him.
"No worries," he winks at you from the side of the ring and reaches behind his head, grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling it off with one swift movement.
You've seen him shirtless countless of times before, but it never ceases to amaze you just how good he looks. He has angry scars extending from his waistline, zig-zagging and digging into the skin lining his entire stomach and chest, reaching all the way up to the torn flesh of his shoulder and it makes him look so fucking beautiful. You know he hates the bare-chested sight of himself in the mirror, but you doubt there could ever be a single facet of Bucky Barnes that you would not love.
"You've been working on your takedown," he eyes you impressively, either ignoring your obvious stare, or choosing not to believe that you actually like him shirtless. "I can't wait to see you break Sam's back with that move," he chuckles, "I love when he's having his ass handed to him."
"I highly doubt that'll happen seeing as Sam doesn't let me win," you mock Bucky while adjusting the strip of cloth that is wrapped tightly around your knuckles. "He actually fights back when he's down."
"Come on, you had a knife pressed to my throat!" Bucky chuckles but you merely raise your eyebrow at him, well-aware that he stopped fighting for the sake of your keeping your confidence intact and not because you'd beat him.
"Okay, okay," he laughs at your dead-pan expression, "maybe I let you win a little. I want it to be fun for you too - so sue me."
"Buck, we're supposed to be training," you sigh, holding your hands out to the side, "how am I ever gonna get better if you won't give me a fair fight?"
"Sweetheart," he licks his lips and squints as he considers how to put his next words in the most delicate way possible. "I bench press more than you weigh... It's never gonna be a fair fight."
"Well if I don't get to practise on you, how do you reckon it'll go when I'm up against a guy your size for real?"
"A guy my size with seventy years of combat training and serum running through his veins? Sure, that's likely to happen..."
You ignore him. "Get down on your back and continue fighting me like you normally would."
He crosses his bulky arms over his chest while arching his eyebrow.
"I'm serious!”
"I don’t care," he shakes his head, “I’m not doing it.”
"Well if you don't, you can consider this our last training session."
"Come on - this is ridiculous!"
"Lie down, same as before."
"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbles under his breath as he rolls his eyes but he still ends up doing as you say. "Happy?" He defiantly throws his arms out to the side when he's once again lying with his back against the white felt.
"Can't say that I'm not enjoying this more obedient side to you," you laugh and sink down on top of him, straddling his chest again, "didn’t think you had it in you - where do you normally keep it?"
"Shut up."
"Then fight me."
"I'm not gonna fight you," he shakes his head.
"Bucky, do me like you normally would!"
His grin broadens in a boyish smile as his hand twitches near your thigh. "Really?" he laughs while licking his lips, mockingly slipping his eyes down to your chest and back up again. "You want me to do you like I normally would?" He winks.
Another stomach flip… You have to suppress a gulp.
"Shut up," you chuckle and lightly smack his arm to get his mind out of the gutter. "You know what I mean."
"Sweetheart," he sighs with serious eyes, his smile still perfectly in place, "- are you sure you really wanna do this?"
Now it's your turn to roll your eyes. "Yes, Barnes..."
"Alright - just remember that you asked for it," he shrugs before he quickly grabs your hips and shifts the position around.
You don't even get to yelp - you barely have time to register what the hell just happened before you're lying on your back with Bucky's lower half pressed to yours, trapping you in place.
His dog tags are dangling in the air between you and you can feel the heat radiating from off his bare chest that is panting enticingly right before your eyes.
"Now, are you happy?" He asks and makes a point of his statement by pressing himself closer to your body, so you're completely sandwiched between him and the floor with no means of escaping.
"Goddammit!"
To further underline his superiority, he pins your wrists together and forces them above your head, holding you steady with one hand only.
"Surrender?" He asks in the same mocking tone of voice you used before, his plump and grinning lips suddenly mere inches from yours.
You can feel your entire body stretching below his, how he drives his hips into yours to keep you in place.
"Fuck," you mumble in frustration and start wriggling your hips to try and get free. "Bucky!" You groan to get him to release you, but even you can hear how your struggling sounds come out almost moan-like, and you see how the smile on his face is suddenly replaced with small, almost inaudible gasps.
Immediately, you stop moving, suddenly aware of the excitement growing tight in his pants while the rest of his body is completely frozen above you.
"Sorry..." you gulp as you slowly look up at him, finding the panicked blue that is half-hidden behind long chestnut strands falling sinfully over his eyes.
You've never been in this position before; on rare occasions you have cuddled long into the night, arms and legs entangled on his bedsheets to the tune of a long-forgotten movie playing in the background - but this? This is different. It's not cute and cuddly.
The look in Bucky's eyes has shifted in a heartbeat, and it's not teasing anymore. It's raw. It's passionate. And when he quickly shifts his gaze down to your mouth and up again, you give in to what you've been wanting to do for months now.
Without thinking, you strain your neck upwards touching the side of his nose with yours, placing a soft kiss on his lips for the first time ever.
He's perplexed - still completely frozen - but when you let go of his mouth shortly after, he wrinkles his brows in silent frustration.
He's panting hard, digging his lower half into you as he looks at you with a fire ignited in his eyes you've never seen before.
You put your hand on his neck, pulling him down towards you, throwing your pillow-soft kisses out the window by placing your thumb on his chin, slipping your tongue inside his open mouth while you move your pelvis rhythmically against his.
"Sweetheart," he whispers with swollen and wet lips as he slightly pulls away. He's breathing hard but his entire body is heavy and relaxed as he looks down at you with lust written all over his warm face - and you choose that exact moment to attack.
Quickly, you wrap your legs around his body as you flip the two of you around so you're finally sitting on top of him again.
"What are you doing?" he pants, confused about your sudden movements.
"Winning," you whisper back with a grin.
It takes him a minute to register your words and set them in connection with the conversation you'd had just before your friendship had passed the point of no return, but when he does, he throws his head back with a frustrating grunt at your dirty trick.
"Not cool," he shakes his head with a chuckle, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Not cool at all. You had me all excited," he groans and puts his hands on your hips, pressing you down on his hard erection.
"Tell me I'm winning," you chuckle as you run your fingers down his chest, suggestively arching your back while he's turning into a mess beneath you.
"Fuck," he groans and rubs circles over your thighs as his erection grows a little harder. "You better not be doing this to the guys you fight in the field."
You put your hand atop of his sternum and slowly start rocking your hips back and forth against him, arching your back while rubbing yourself along the tight bulge underneath you. "Tell me I'm winning."
"You win! You win!" he pants and traces his fingers down your throat and cleavage, laying his palms flat over your stomach as he angles his hips upwards. "Just... don't stop. Don't stop."
"Kiss me, Bucky," you whisper and pull on his dog tags so he can only inch closer to your craving lips.
"Oh doll, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this!" he groans sensually with pink cheeks as he finally reclaims your mouth.
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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months
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Taste Her, Little Dove (18+)
Joel Miller x f!reader x female
Summary: Joel encourages you to indulge in your curiosities towards women.  CW: girl on girl (Happy International Women’s Day), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby etc.), sub/domme dynamics, sort of voyeurism on Joel's part, male masturbation, lots of orgasms, one night stand AN: practice safe sex!! This is unprotected sex, be better than my writing! STI’s may be less likely in lesbian hookups but please use dental dams or gloves with a partner that you don’t know. Stay safe! Dividers by @saradika-graphics WC 3.6k
More Little Dove Here
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You sit at the kitchen table, phone open in one hand reading an article, fresh morning coffee in the other. “What’s it like to go down on a girl?”
Joel almost chokes on his coffee, folding the corner of his newspaper down and looking at you over his reading glasses. 
“Jesus, babe. It’s 8 am!” His hair is tousled with sleep, still wearing just his boxers and a white t-shirt. 
“Didn’t realize 8 am was prude hour,” you joke. Cupping your hot coffee in both hands and inhaling the steam. 
“It’s just not what I thought was going to come out of your mouth.” He says with a laugh, putting the paper down and placing his glasses on top of it. “You never cease to amaze me, my love.”
“Well, I adopted Ellie in my second year of college, the first year I was too busy with classes. I didn’t get those wild college years. You know?” 
The sounds of the morning birds chirping merrily fills the kitchen for a moment while Joel looks at you. 
“Alright. I fucking love it. It’s powerful watching you fall apart as I lick you.” He smirks a little, a dimple forming in his cheek before he sips his coffee. 
“So the same way I feel when I give you a blow job?” You shrug. 
“I guess. I don’t know, the female anatomy is a lot more complex, but finding that right combination of licking and sucking, along with fingers. It’s like…” he trails off, thinking for a moment, “like a game of chess. Every time I go down on you it’s different. Sometimes you like the tip of my tongue to flick roughly, other times you like gentle kitten licks and lots of kisses. I almost have to read you and figure out the best way to win the game.” 
“Huh,” you suddenly feel a little insecure, he’s doing all that work and you - “I just do the same thing every time. Am I doing it wrong?”
“No babes,” he laughs, reaching across and taking your hand in his. His thumb caresses the smooth skin along the top of your hand. “Dicks are pretty easy. Grip them and move up and down. You are amazing at blow jobs.” 
He smiles at you and your gaze falls back to your phone. He picks up his glasses and paper and goes back to reading. After a few minutes, you break the silence. 
“How would you feel about me going down on a woman?” 
His eyes light up as he takes you in, he bites his cheek to stop the shit eating grin he can feel forming. “Go on….”
“I’m curious. I’ve never been with a woman.” 
“Ok,” he folds the paper up again. “Are you doing this for you? Is this something YOU want?” 
“Yes,” you say confidently. 
“Ok. So are you asking for a threesome? Because if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to be with another woman.” 
“No! Oh god,” you try to stop your voice from sounding horrified, “I don’t want to see you with anyone.”
You’re quiet for a second before adding, “You know what, nevermind. I don’t like this.” 
“What baby?” He asks encouragingly. 
“I feel selfish. I’m going to ask you to let me indulge in my curiosities when there’s nothing in it for you but to watch. I’d want you there.” 
“Hey,” he stands and walks to your side of the table. He stops behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. “You’re not being selfish. I don’t want to be with anyone else but I sure as fuck would watch you play with another woman.”
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Finding a woman was surprisingly easy. After taking Joel’s advice, you put on a little red dress and the two of you headed to a bar near your house. Joel went in first and sat at a booth near the back, ordering himself a whiskey. After touching up your lipstick and fluffing your hair in the rearview mirror you strutted into that bar like you owned the place. Heels clicked on the floor as you walked over to the bar and ordered a martini. You sat there, eyes flicking around at the patrons, trying to make yourself look approachable. 
A gorgeous long-haired brunette woman was sitting across from you with an almost empty drink. This was your chance, you call the bartender over and ask him to send her a drink. As he walked over to her the music in the room seemed louder, and butterflies started to flutter around your stomach. But she took the drink and then came to sit with you. 
She agreed to let Joel sit in the wingback chair in the corner of your room. “I’m not interested though, lover boy. So you can watch but hands off.” 
Joel smirked at her, “Feelings mutual. I’m only interested in my Little Dove.” 
Now that the three of you are in your bedroom, you’re not as confident. She’s completely naked, you just a bra and panties, and Joel sitting in the dark corner, ankle resting on his knee. 
“Give me a colour, Little Dove.” 
“Green,” you say shakily, hands hanging by your sides and eyes dancing around the naked woman in front of you. She steps forward, linking her fingers with yours. You lean into her touch, the tip of your nose tracing down the bridge of hers. 
“Can I take your bra and panties off?” She whispers. You hear Joel stifle a groan, which encourages you to keep going. 
“Yes please,” your hands trail up her arms as she reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The cool air pebbles your nipples as the garment falls to the floor.  Her soft lips find your neck, kissing towards the dip on your collarbone, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of your lacy panties. 
“Don’t stop,” you whimper, hands sliding into her long hair, guiding her to your aching nipples. Her tongue flicks over one as she gets to her knees, panties slipping down along your thighs as she goes. You use her shoulder to balance you as you step out of your thong. 
“You’re so wet for me,” she hums, kissing up your thighs to your hip bones. You won’t survive if both she and Joel start talking, and that’s further solidified when Joel’s deep voice adds, “Good girl, Little Dove” from the corner of the room. 
Your body shutters as she stands, sucking a peaked nipple into her mouth. She sucks and licks, the other hand teasing your slit. Your head falls back and you gasp at the feeling of her. Being with a woman is so different from being with Joel. She’s soft, her hands are like silk as they move across you. 
“Get on the bed,” you moan. You swear you hear Joel’s breath become heavier as he watches you. When you glance towards him he’s in the same position, chin resting between his thumb and forefinger, elbow perched on the arm of the chair. He shoots you a wink before you climb into bed. She’s on her back, legs open for you and can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of her puffy pink pussy. She’s glistening for you and you swell with pride at how you made her like that. 
Laying on top of her you start kissing her lips and grind your hips into hers. She moans into your mouth, hands grabbing your ass. “I wanna lick your pussy,” she says between kisses, “please.” 
You already know she likes to be in control, it was part of your conversation at the bar and with Joel. The two of you roll in tandem, sheets tugging around you before she throws them off. A groaned ‘holy fuck’ floats across the room. Joel is loving this more than the two of you. 
She settles herself between your thighs, her warm breath hitting your clit, causing it to twitch. She stares up at you as you writhe underneath her, your eyes clamped shut. “Look at me,” she says, voice husky. 
You peel your eyes open, they flick to Joel and then settle on her. The bedside lamp casts warm lighting across her face. She’s truly quite beautiful and you can’t help but notice the similarities between her and Joel. Deep brown hair, and warm amber-coloured eyes, she licks her plush lips before teasing your clit with the tip of her tongue. Pleasure courses through your body and your hips buck forward involuntarily. 
“Sssh,” she hushes you gently, and one of her forearms comes to rest across your pelvis. “Do you like that?” 
“Y-yes,” you coo, “again. Please.” 
“Mmmm,” she hums, teasing you again before adding, “such good manners.” 
Little sparks fizzle across your whole body at her gentle caresses. So different from when Joel devours you. Her arm is slender and soft against your belly, no facial hair to tickle your inner thighs. You moan her name, hands tangling in the sheets as that ache builds. 
“You gonna cum for her, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is deep and thick with arousal. Your eyes flick back to him, he looks dangerous sitting in the dark like you’re the prey, which is exactly how you like it when it comes to Joel. The tongue between your legs stops and you cry out at the loss, “No, please.” 
She’s quickly up to be inline with you, one hand gripping your face under your chin, squeezing your cheeks slightly. You moan, yes being the prey is exactly how you like it. 
“Don’t look at him. You’re mine,” she kisses you hard before pulling back and adding, “Do you understand?” 
Joel's heavy breathing fills your ears and you can’t help but look at him. “Tsk, tsk,” she taunts and then turns to Joel. 
“I think she needs to be taught a lesson. Is that ok with you?” 
They’re wholly focused on each other, almost as if you aren’t even in the room. “My Little Dove will never learn,” he says, “what do you have in mind?” 
She glances back at you with a mischievous grin, “Come sit behind her and hold her down.” 
Joel stands, adjusting himself in his jeans as he walks over. The bed dips under his weight, he props a few pillows against the headboard before hooking his arms under you and pulling you flush against his chest. His hard cock throbbing against your lower back. 
She laughs at you, “can’t see him now. Can you?” 
You shake your head. “Answer your mistress, Little Dove,” Joel whispers in your ear in quiet demands. 
“N-no mistress,” you whisper. 
“That’s better,” she says, nails tickling your inner thighs. “Open your legs, he’s going to hold you open for me and I’m not stopping until you beg.” 
You swallow hard, Joel’s cock jumps before he reaches for your legs, strong hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling them towards your chest and encouraging you to open more. She dives in with much more hunger this time, lapping at your clit. 
You throw your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder. “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop.” 
She doesn’t listen, stopping abruptly and laying a quick slap on your inner thigh. Joel hisses in your ear and your eyes widen in shock and arousal. “Watch your mouth,” she says in a dark, commanding tone that you didn’t think a sweet looking woman like her was capable of. 
“Sorry, mistress.” The heat from her slap travels up your thigh to your pussy and it clenches around nothing. “Felt s’good,” you whine. 
“No swearing,” two of her fingers tease your entrance. “Good girls don’t say words like fuck,” her fingers slide into you and you bite your lip hard to stop from swearing and yelling and moaning. 
“Say yes mistress,” she taunts, curling her fingers forward. 
Joel’s strong arms hold you down, you’re completely at her mercy. “Ye - oh god - y-y-yes mistress.” 
“Do you wanna cum, baby?” Joel whispers as she continues teasing you, bringing the tip of her tongue to tickle your clit again. 
“Mmm-hmm,” you moan, turning your head to nuzzle into Joel’s neck. And your body tenses up into his grip. 
“Ask her nicely,” he says. 
“Mistress, fuuu-, can I cum?” It comes out in a high-pitched moan, you’re clenching so hard to not cum, teetering right on the edge. 
“Only if you scream my name while you do it,” she says in her demanding tone, working her fingers inside you faster. 
Joel’s thumbs rub little circles on your legs and after you relax into him you release. Pinned by Joel the orgasm runs through you hard and fast, and it’s over too soon, but she keeps going. That familiar tingle builds quickly again and before you’ve caught your breath you cum again, screaming her name over and over as you cum on her hand and mouth. 
She sucks your clit into her mouth. Stars start to light up in your vision, muscles start to hurt from how badly you’re shaking. As you start to cum again it all starts to feel like too much. “Stop. Stop. Please!” You beg. 
She releases your clit with a pop and slows her fingers. “Look at me sweet girl,” she coos. She smiles at you gently when you make eye contact, it's almost like looking at a completely different person from the woman who slapped your inner thigh just minutes ago, “Do you actually want me to stop.” 
“Yes, sorry. But yes.” You say, gasping for breath. 
She slides her fingers out and Joel releases your legs. They whisper to one another and Joel slides himself out from behind you and heads back to his chair. She pulls you into her arms, head resting on her soft breasts. No wonder Joel likes to cuddle up to you like this, it’s warm and inviting. You can hear her heart beating softly as she plays with your hair with one hand. The other draws little circles up and down the arm you’ve draped across her. 
It’s silent for a while before you start to giggle. 
“What’s so funny, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is light. He’s used to this part when you come down from the high and have a feeling of comfort and elation. It might be his favourite part, especially now that he’s seeing it happening from the outside. Your cheeks are pink, and your hair is disheveled, but there’s a big happy grin on your face. 
“Fuck. That was….” You trail off, looking up into her brown eyes. “Well, that was amazing.” 
“Good,” she cranes her neck to kiss you lightly. 
“Umm, can I?” You ask, hand trailing down her body and stopping just above the slit of her pussy. You pout out your bottom lip at her, eyes turned soft and pleading. 
“Christ, lover boy.” She says to Joel but doesn’t break eye contact with you, “How do you ever say no to this sweet girl?” 
Joel chuckles from the corner. “I don’t.” 
You take her sly smile as a silent yes and climb on top of her, taking one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while you use your knee to nudge her legs apart. Kneeling between her parted thighs you kiss across her chest to her other nipple, cupping her breast in your hands and massaging them gently. 
Hearing her little moans leave her lips is intoxicating. When Joel moans it’s usually deep and from his chest, but she’s so pliant to you right now, sweet, little high-pitched whimpers leaving her parted lips. 
You kiss down her body, gently nipping at her hip bone, a small squeak of surprise fills the room. You kiss the sore spot gently and settle yourself between her legs. Now that you’re this close to her pussy you are almost unsure of yourself. You swallow the lump building in your throat. Joel can see you hesitating. 
“Taste her, Little Dove,” he whispers. “Just place a long lick from the bottom to the top. Go slowly.” 
You place your tongue flat near the entrance and slowly slide your tongue up. She tastes amazing. Sweet with a hint of saltiness, she gasps and twitches as you hit certain spots. 
“Did you feel that, baby?” Joel asks. 
You nod your head and repeat the same lick, mapping out the spots that drive her wild. Once you have them figured out Joel speaks up again, “Good girl. Use the tip of your tongue and put more pressure on those spots. Swirl your tongue around them. Figure out what makes her twitch.” 
“Fuck this is so hot,” she whimpers as you follow Joel’s instructions. 
You swirl your tongue around her hardening clit, before lapping up the fresh wave of her arousal, moaning at the taste of her. She’s shifting underneath you, one of her hands tangling in your hair. 
“Tease her with your fingers, Little Dove. Slide one in, just a little while you lick her.” 
“Yesyesyes” she chants, breaths coming in quickly. The way her breasts rise and fall causes a throb in between your legs. You thought you were orgasmed out but she looks incredible. You slide your middle finger in, stopping at the first knuckle, curling it forward. She cries out, you aren’t ready for her to cum yet so you pull your tongue away and place little kisses around her mound, carefully avoiding the sensitive spots as you explore her more with your finger. 
“You’re so tight. Do you want me to use two?” You ask, sliding your finger in all the way. If you were Joel, you’d never want to be anywhere else than in between your legs. He was right, this is a feeling that can’t be described. There’s an almost overwhelming sense of power once you’ve figured out what they like and have relaxed enough to enjoy it. 
“Please. Oh god - yes please.” She’s almost mumbling the words between moans and when you slide your ring finger in with the middle her legs start to shake. 
“You gonna cum?” You ask, kitten licking at her clit. 
“Don’t stop,” she whines. You curl your fingers again hearing the squelching of how wet you’ve made her and then suck her hard little clit into your mouth. She calls your name out to the room, “Yes yes. Just like that. Fuuuuuck.” 
You can feel her cunt tightening around your fingers. “Stay at the pace, Little Dove. You’re doing so well.” Joel’s voice seems thicker and you wonder if he’s touching himself, but you keep your focus on her. She looks like a goddess in the dim lighting of the room, head thrown back and mouth open, calling out your name through her moans. You feel the wetness between your thighs growing. 
“I’m gonna cum,” she cries before you feel her pussy spasm around your fingers. You keep your pace the same, curling your fingers forward and tracing the edges of her pulsing clit. You’ll go until she says to stop, even if your jaw is starting to cramp. You feel drunk watching her, this is so much better than you could have imagined. 
“Ride me,” she says, squirming out of your grasp. She straightens one leg and you crawl up, straddling yourself around her raised leg, hooking her knee in your arm across your body. The wetness between the two of you is magical, sliding your clits against each other. 
You can see Joel now, he shifts in the chair as he removes his jeans, freeing his cock from his boxers. He spits in his palm and starts to stroke himself in time with the two of you. 
“Does that feel good?” She asks, bringing your eyes back to her. 
You nod, biting your bottom lip as the tension behind your belly button starts to build. You grind your hips in slow circles as she moves back and forth, both of you growing wetter. 
“God your pussy feels so good against mine,” you moan between her gasps. “You’re making such a mess.” 
She wraps her hands around your hips and pushes you down onto her hard, grinding into you faster as both of you start to breathe heavier. “Don’t fuck stop,” she whines. 
“So needy. This little pussy,” you say. You’re not entirely sure what’s come over you, Joel’s ragged breaths from his chair fill you with encouragement, he loves hearing you talk dirty to her. “Wanna cum all over your tight cunt.” 
You hear Joel’s breathing jump, glancing over to see him spilling into his hand. The tension in your stomach snaps, and you look back at her as the two of you cum together, grinding sloppily. The sounds of your wet pussy’s rubbing together and your moans and squeals are the only thing you can hear. 
You both ride it out together, you feel like you’ve been cumming for hours by the time it slows. Both of you calming your movements. You kiss her kneecap before falling to the bed beside her, the two of you gasping for breath. Joel sits quietly, smiling over at you. 
“Fuck,” she says after a few minutes of silence. “Are you sure you aren’t a lesbian?” 
You and Joel both laugh. “I think it’s safe to say that my Little Dove is bisexual.” 
You giggle to the ceiling and then look towards her, “I think it’s safe to say that I’m only straight for Joel Miller.” 
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twis-world · 3 months
Text
The Remedy That Is You (Riddle Version)
Mentions: Fluff, Riddle-Centric, Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader
No matter how many a time the students of Nightraven College witnessed how their Housewarden did a complete 180 in your presence, it never ceased to amaze them.
It eventually got to the point where a majority of students began to question if you really were magickless. There was just no way your mere presence could bring out such light in their eyes, face softening and a smile so tender it was as if they were gazing upon one of the Seven.
Just how did you do it?
Riddle
“You imbecile!” Riddle’s voice boomed, echoing all throughout Heartslabyul. Fear set into all who heard it, a chain reaction flowing through their bodies as their hearts beat quicker, palms growing clammy in a cold sweat. No matter how many times their beloved Housewarden proved that he had changed, that he was no longer the cruel tyrant they all once feared, it did not stop the utter terror that ran through them when they did succeed in trying his patience.
Especially when it concerned the prized animals they cared for.
“Have I not made it clear several times that you are not to directly hit the hedgehogs?” Riddle continued to scream, face flaming red as he cradled the delicate creature in his arms. Whether or not the poor thing was shaking of its own account or fear of the one holding it was to be determined, but it mattered not with all eyes on the beholder. “Are you so dense that you cannot remember something as simple as that?”
“Housewarden Riddle,” the victim stuttered. It was a first-year clearly, face deathly pale and looking as if his soul would leave his body any moment in a fit of desperation. Anything to get away from such a ghastly scenario. “I-I…I swear it was a-a-an accident-”
“How do you accidentally do such a thing?” Riddle snapped back, nearly frothing at the mouth as he marched forward into the other’s space. The surrounding students gasped, taking a step back in turn and preparing for the inevitable as his hand noticeably itched for his pen. The first-year clearly noticed as well, eyes bulging and feet shifting in preparation to run if need be. “Even so, there is no room for such impertinence. Why, I should have your head for that!”
“Riddle?”
The effect was almost instant.
The speed at which the male stepped back was almost inhuman, head snapping back so quickly a few flinched at the thought of such inevitable whiplash. The snarl on his lips dropped, not taking on a smile but smoothing out the lines his earlier scowl created. In fact, the only evidence of his incredible fury from but a moment ago was the ever present brightness of his face, taking its time in ever so slowly draining away.
Then, they saw it.
The moment you managed to break through the crowd, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape as you surveyed the situation, the sharpness in his gaze disappeared. It was almost comical how instantly his pupils blew, nearly overtaking the storm in his eyes. Some swore that if it were possible hearts would most definitely be shining from his orbs, beating in tune with the one confined by his mortal body yet still promised to you.
Great Seven, the way he greeted you as well. It nearly ached how tenderly a soft ‘My Rose’ escaped from his lips, and it was then they all knew that in his mind the rest of the world faded away until all that lay within it was you.
“Ace nearly gave me a heart attack when he blew up my phone, spewing nonsense of a bomb about to blow the whole of the dorm,” you gently teased, stepping towards him with such ease despite the still shaking of Riddle’s body. Yet, as you placed a delicate hand on his arm, the tremors all but disappeared. “Guess he wasn’t that far off for once.”
The red fury on his face was now one of shame and embarrassment, tucking his head down and staring as he gently calmed the still shaking hedgehog. “He exaggerates…” he nearly mumbled, refusing to look up at the gentle smile you were giving him. 
You stared at him with the same fondness he just had moments ago, thumb softly rubbing against his arm. Words could not explain the relief they all felt when you looked up at them all and nodded your head back to the main dorm building, silently giving them permission to finally escape.
At the sound of their retreat Riddle’s head shot up, confusion evident. “Who gave you all permission to leave?” he called out, stepping out of your grasp and staring at their retreating backs. If his hands weren’t occupied you were sure he would be waving them in a blind fury. “Come back! You have yet to-”
“Riddle,” you interrupted, cupping his face in your hands and turning his gaze to you instead. It was a miracle that he had yet to pass out, blood still continuously rushing to his face as he had no choice but to lock eyes with you. Fingertips caressed under his eyes, exaggerated breathing from you goading him to follow with, not once turning away. Not daring to escape the land you’ve trapped him in.
He didn’t know how much time passed, just the two of you standing there and the animal in his arms long since passed out, nor did he care. Just your touch alone was enough to soothe his soul, your gaze and sweet words were simply a bonus that he thought himself unworthy of, yet here he was.
“There we go,” you cooed, dropping your hands but not once breaking contact from his face. Down his cheeks that you held for a moment, nails barely scraping down his neck in tune with the pleasant shiver it sent down his spine, dancing across his shoulders and tickling his waist before coming to a stop there. “Why don’t we sit and enjoy some tea to help calm you down more, hm?”
“It’s not yet past the lunch hour,” he responded, yet almost drunkenly. “Rule 148 states-” The small burst of laughter that left you was enough to shut him up, watching as your head tilted back and shined even brighter than the sun that warmed you both. He decided that he really didn’t want you to stop anytime soon. “Though…though I suppose I could make an exception…”
A few more chuckles rang, and you gave him another playful smile along with a gentle squeeze. “How kind.”
Yes, yes you really were quite magical.
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When BSD men have to carry you.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men
In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨
Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.
Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!
Edogawa Ranpo
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You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.
Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.
The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.
“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”
“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.
“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.
Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.
You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.
Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.
“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa
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You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.
As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.
Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.
The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?
The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.
He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.
“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.
Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”
Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.
Osamu Dazai
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You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.
The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.
“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.
Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.
“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.
Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.
You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”
“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”
Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.
“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.
“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.
“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.
Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.
The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, please.”
Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.
Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.
“Hey, (Y/N),”
“Yes?”
“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”
“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”
You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.
Doppo Kunikida
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The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.
You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.
Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.
Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.
Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.
“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.
“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.
Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.
You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.
You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.
“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.
Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.
Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”
Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.
You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.
“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.
“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.
“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.
You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.
The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.
Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
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The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.
The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.
The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.
You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”
“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.
“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”
“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.
Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.
As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.
“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.
You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.
When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.
The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.
At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.
Nakahara Chuuya
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Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.
Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.
“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.
As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.
“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.
Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.
Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.
“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.
“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.
“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.
You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.
Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.
The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.
“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.
“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.
Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.
Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.
Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.
When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.
“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.
Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.
“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.
“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.
You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.
It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.
Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.
You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.
Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.
Nakajima Atsushi
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Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.
When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.
You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.
You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.
As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.
“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.
You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.
1K notes · View notes
mistiell · 1 year
Text
Let me put my Lips to Something
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Summary: After learning about his aversion to touch, you tone down the physical affection. Spencer finds himself missing your touch, and after weeks of yearning, he’s had enough. He decides it’s time to fix this.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, it gets pretty steamy towards the end but nothing graphic so I don't think this needs age restricting lmao
A/N: Part 2 to “I’m Starvin’, Darlin’”. The feedback on the last part motivated me to finish this in like, a single sitting lmao. Hope y’all enjoy! :)
P.S. My requests are open so if you wanna send something in for Spence, I'll do my best to get to it quickly!
Part 1 - Current - Part 3
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Spencer hadn’t realised how much he wanted — how much he needed — your touch until you stopped. Where there was once that warm, tingly anticipation whenever he made you laugh, there‘s now a strange absence left in its wake. Where there used to have been a bump or a squeeze, there are awkward smiles and nervous glances. Like a line of dialogue without end quotations, left to hang in the balance while the author considers what should be said next.
It’s killing him.
He’s come to realise that this want extends beyond the bounds of anything that could ever be considered platonic. He wants more than your touch. He wants you.
He craves you, finds himself remembering the way your arms felt around him the last time you hugged him. Finds himself fantasising about how it would feel to be the one to take you in his arms. How it would feel to be the one to hold you; to cradle your face between his palms and lose himself in your kiss; to let go of his inhibitions and drown himself in the depths of your affections.
He wants your time and energy. He wants your attention and praise. He wants to be the one to make you smile and laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to know it.
It’s only been three weeks since that night at the bar, but even so, he feels like if he doesn’t figure out how to tell you how he feels, he might very well lose his mind. You’re right across from him all day, five days a week. It’s torture. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but at this point, he’s well beyond caring.
The problem is, how on earth is he supposed to go about confessing to you? He’s never been suave or charismatic. He’s awkward and dorky and breaks a sweat every time anyone even remotely attractive looks his way. He’s never felt this intensely about anyone before, never desired anyone this way before. Sometimes, late at night when he’s finally tucked himself into bed, he attempts to calculate the probability of you ever wanting him in the way he wants you.
In his pessimistic mind, that number is despairingly low.
“Spence?” He startles at the sound of your voice, snapping his head up to look at you.
You’ve worn a different lipstick today. It’s a little darker than your usual colour, a rather glossy, rosier shade of mauve. He thinks he’s seen it somewhere before, and the name pops up from somewhere in his memory.
“Rum raisin.” He mumbles, staring intently at your lips and wondering briefly if it would transfer if he kissed you.
“What?” You cock your head at him with an amused sort of confusion.
He blinks once before clearly his throat, “Oh, um, your lipstick.”
You raise your hand so your fingertips hover over your bottom lip as you smile at him, “How’d you know?”
“I saw it in a drugstore once.”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Your memory never ceases to amaze me, Spence.”
His heart swells as he smiles sheepishly, “Thanks.”
You hum before gesturing to two big boxes of files that are sitting on your desk, “Could you help me run these down to records?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’s quick to cross the short distance to your desk and purposely picks the heavier of the two boxes.
The trip down to records is a rather tedious one as of today. The elevator is out of order so you have to take the stairs from the sixth floor to the third.
“Do you like rain?” You ask, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking out water speckled windows at the stormy street below.
“Yeah.” He leaves out the part that the possibility of power outages and the darkness that accompanies them unnerves him greatly.
You turn your head to smile at him as you reach the records room, “Me too.”
He opens the door for you before you have the chance and lets you go in first, letting the door shut behind him. He follows you into the room, weaving between shelves and stepping over boxes that have yet to find their places. He watches you skim over the yellowed labels, your lips twitching as you read them off in your head.
You find the spot you’re looking for and make a sound of satisfaction before bending at the waist to slide the box into place, your skirt sliding a little further up to press against the plush flesh of the backs of your thighs. His gaze wanders up the length of your body and stops at your chest. From this angle, he’s able to see the curve of your breast and he swallows hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, feeling ashamed for ogling you like that.
Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees the lights flicker and when he opens them, he finds he’s not able to see much more than when he had them closed.
Shit.
“Damnit, the power’s out.” You curse, taking the box from him and slotting it in next to the other.
He takes a deep breath. The dark isn’t as frightening with you there in front of him, but that familiar anxiety pricks his chest and settles heavy in his gut.
“Spence?”
He wonders when the emergency lights will come on. Maybe they’re already on in the hall. He feels along the wall and shuffles back over to the door. When he tries the knob, he finds it locked. Now he’s panicking a little.
Well, maybe a lot.
There’s a clap of thunder outside that’s so powerful that he feels it in his chest and he jumps, breath catching in his chest as he screws his eyes shut as if it’ll make a difference.
“Spence?” You call again softly, “Are you okay?
“Y-Yeah.” He stutters.
“You don’t like storms?”
He shakes his head before realising you can’t see him, “No, not really.”
“Me neither.” You whisper, and he hears the shuffling of your clothes as you shift your weight between your feet and huff a breathy puff of nervous laughter, “I don’t like the dark either.”
“Me neither.” He echoes, wetting his lips briefly as he considers how to comfort you despite how anxious he is himself.
Carefully, tentatively, he reaches for you in the dark and takes your hand, just barely brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft and warm, and he attempts to find your face in the dark as he murmurs ever so softly, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” You reply just as softly, squeezing his hand.
It’s a little unsettling not being able to see you. He can hear you breathing, and having your hand in his feels so nice, but he wants you closer.
“Can I…” He trails off, but tugs at your hand so you’ll step a little closer. He swallows his nerves, “Can I distract you?”
It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all he can come up with on the spot.
“Distract me how?” He can hear the smile in your voice and it encourages his steadily growing confidence.
He pulls you closer, and you step further into his space. He places a hand on your waist, and you don’t recoil. In fact, you come a little closer and set a hand on his chest. You slide it along the length of his shoulder and up the back of his neck to thread your fingers in the hairs at the base of his skull and he shudders, lips parting to sigh softly. Your thumb settles just behind his ear and strokes the skin there tenderly and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to gently bump your nose with his, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to tell him you don’t want this.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask so innocently, breath fanning over his lips in a steady rhythm as his eyelids flutter shut.
“Please.” He breathes, leaning in to meet you halfway.
Your lips meet his timidly and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a second where you pull back to let him breathe, let him get used to the feeling. His eyes open a sliver, just enough to make out the edges of you in the dark as his brain catches up with his body. And then the shock passes.
And he devours you.
The hand that was on your waist comes up to cradle your cheek as he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip in a silent request. You grant it, opening up to him to let him roll his tongue against yours. You stand on your tiptoes and lean further into him, returning the kiss with a fervour he wasn’t expecting but welcomes happily. He can taste your lipstick and is pleasantly surprised to find it tastes a little like vanilla.
There’s a push and pull of tongues and teeth and soft little sighs as he dares to slip his hands down and pull you flush against him by your hips, revelling in the breathy moan that slips from your throat and meets his mouth. He pulls away only to kiss sloppily at the corner of your mouth and down your jaw. He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin when you gasp and tug at his hair. Mouthing at your skin, he searches until you whine and shudder after he drags his teeth over a particular spot and focuses his attention there.
He sucks a nice bruise into the spot, some primal part of him driving him to mark you up and claim you as his while he has you here. He bites a little too hard and you hiss, making him pull back and search for your face in the dark.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Mm-mm.” You hum before immediately capturing his lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing the moan that escapes him.
He guides you by your hips until he has you pressed against the door, sliding a hand down the length of your thigh before slipping it up past the hem of your skirt to grab greedily at your flesh. He hikes your leg up by his hip and you hook your knee around it to pull him impossibly close.
His touch is tender even as he practically swallows you whole, thumb stroking the side of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up. He rolls his hips up against your experimentally and you whine, urging him to do it again. This is what he’s wanted — craved — for so long. You’re warm and soft in ways that his imagination could have never replicated. He’s dizzy, drunk on your kiss, on your touch, on you.
He’s attached himself to your neck again — the other side this time — when the lights flicker on, startling you both into looking up at the ceiling.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of your combined laboured breathing, and when he looks back at you, he finds your face flushed and your lipstick smudged. You look back at him and he notices your pupils are blown wide as you suddenly smile and start giggling.
“What?” He chuckles, letting go of your thigh so that you can stand on your own two feet again.
“Rum raisin looks good on you, doctor.” You laugh, thumbing the remnants of your kisses off of his bottom lip.
He kisses you once again, smiling against your lips.
You tug him back and laugh again, “You’re making it worse!”
He does it again, and again, and then peppers kisses over the side of your neck until you’re giggling something awful and have to scrunch your shoulder to your ear to keep him from tickling you.
“Spencer!” You squeak as quietly as you can and he pulls away laughing.
Your giggles die down, and then you’re both left in a silence that isn’t awkward, but isn’t quite comfortable either. He has to say something, but what?
“Hey, would you, um,” You start, glancing down at his lips and biting at yours nervously, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Just us?”
He blinks, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this is actually happening, “Like, a date?”
You nod. He blinks again before practically beaming at you.
“Yeah.” He nods, attempting to correct the smudged edge of your lipstick with his thumb, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Saturday? Five o’ clock? We can do whatever you want.”
He nods again, “Sounds good.”
“Good.” You smile, leaning up to kiss him, your touch so saccharine and gentle that his legs feel like jello beneath him.
The doorknob jiggles suddenly and he instinctively reaches to help you button up your blouse a little more while you fiddle with the collar until it covers the rather obvious hickey on your neck.
“Hey, are you two still in there?” Derek calls from the other side as you attempt to help Spencer fix his hair to no avail.
“Uh, yeah!” He calls, clearing his throat after his voice cracks up an octave, “We accidentally locked ourselves in.”
“Here.” You bend to slide the key under the door, and this time, he stares unabashedly, “That’s the key.”
The knob jiggles a little more before the door opens, and when it does, Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously, “You guys okay?” He locks eyes with Spencer and smirks, “You seem a little winded.”
“Yeah, we’re okay.” You smile, hastily walking out, “The boxes were just heavy. Plus, we had to walk all the way down here.”
“Yeah, okay.” Derek says, though it’s clear he isn't convinced. When you get a little further ahead of them, he claps Spencer on the back with a bright grin, “About time, loverboy!”
“Shut up.” Spencer shoots back, though he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face.
This is not how he expected his confession to go, but — as he watches you walk down the hall a little ways ahead of him with a renewed pep in your step and your hair a little dishevelled — he is so glad it went the way it did.
———————————————————————
Edit: I had a couple people request a part 3 (Possibly smutty, but we shall see), and I'm curious about whether or not y'all would want that? Just let me know in the replies/reblogs. :)
Update: Part 3 is posted and linked at the top of this post :)
Taglist:
@louderfortheback @theblaxkbird @marimorena06 @special-forces7 @lolilkkk
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lowkeyerror · 22 days
Text
The Family Business Ch. 10
WandaNat x Reader
Word count: 3.4k
Ch.Notes: no notes this ch
Summary: Natasha and Wanda have a talk about their feelings for you. After that emotional conversation they meet you at the hospital to visit Dragos.
An: If I were to say things get more real next chapter how would you feel...
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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The rest of the work day drags for Natasha and Wanda. Both women having other things on their mind. However, with Kate and Y/n out of the office on a hectic day like this, they couldn’t afford to dwell too much.
“Sestra, can we call it a day? I've never taken this many calls in my life,” Pietro barges into his sisters office.
“If you want to go home, then go,” she waves her hand dismissively at him.
“What’s got you so snappy?”
When Wanda’s eyes meet Pietro she’s glaring at him, “If you haven’t noticed I’m trying to run the company our father built on my own.”
Pietro raises his brow, “On your own? Discrediting my work is normal for you, but to act as if Y/n wasn’t running this place last night is bullshit.”
“Well she’s not here now,” Wanda mumbles under her breath.
“Why? Where is she?”
Wanda can’t hide the small clench in her jaw, “Kate took her home. She wasn’t feeling well.”
“She’s in good hands sestra if that’s what's worrying you,” Pietro tries to console her.
Wanda doesn’t want to speak about it any further, “I’m going to see papa whenever I’m done with this do you want to come?”
The way that Pietro's goofy features turn serious never cease to amaze Wanda, “I can’t tonight, I have a date.”
Wanda rolls her eye, “You’d rather get laid than see our father?”
Pietro shakes his head, “No, but this isn’t just some girl. I want this to be serious and I can’t afford to stand her up.”
The red head is slightly surprised, but she nods along, “I’ll tell him about it, I bet he’d be glad to hear you taking something seriously for once.”
He chuckles a bit before going quiet. He looks at Wanda similar to the way a needy child looks at their parent.
“Do you think he’ll wake up?”
“He has too,” the words are heavy as they leave her lips. She has a small smile placed on her face as she continues, “Mama will kill him if he doesn't.”
“Don’t work too hard sestra,” he speaks sincerely taking his leave.
“Enjoy your date,” Wanda says as he walks out of the door.
When he leaves she lets out a heavy sigh. For the first time today she lays her head down on her desk, exhaustion starting to plague her.
Thoughts of her responsibilities as the person in charge rain down on her. This was the end goal that she wanted, but never at this great of cost. She wished her father would wake up and reclaim his place because she didn’t feel ready.
She was focusing as hard as she could, but her mind always strays to her brother’s best friend. Your delicate skin pressing against hers in the morning or the strong arms that wrapped around her waist, or those doe eyes that she could sense staring at her.
Wanda debates for a moment before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the girl. It rings for a while before there's finally an answer.
“Hello.”
“Hey, little krolik. I just wanted to check on you. Nat told me you went home today,” Wanda keeps her tone level.
You sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m ok. I think I just got a little overwhelmed. I’m sorry for stepping out, I know that's not how we do business.”
“It’s no different than me leaving yesterday. This line of work takes a toll on you.”
She can’t see it, but you nod, “I’m feeling better now. I still want to go see pa- Dragos. Maybe I could have Kate drop me off and I’ll meet you two there?”
“You’re with Kate?” Wanda can’t stop herself from asking the question.
“Yeah she took me home and decided to keep me company,” you say nonchalantly.
“I could’ve taken you,” Wanda tries to play it cool.
You disagree with her, “I didn't want to bother you while you were working. It was a hectic day, truth be told I didn't even want to leave.”
Wanda’s tone is strong as she speaks, “I will never be too busy for you Y/n.”
“Wanda-”
“I mean it. I know I’m supposed to move past it, but I missed a lot while I was gone. I couldn’t be there for you like I wanted to. Now that I’m back I’d like to be there for you as much as I can. I still want to be the one you lean on,” Wanda let herself be vulnerable with you.
You were taken aback by her admission. It felt like it was impossible for you to come up with a response. It wasn’t like she was saying something you hadn't heard from her before, but her words felt heavier somehow.
“I know you'll be there for me, Wanda . You don't have to prove it.”
Wanda frowns lightly, “I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m just- it’s hard knowing I’m not the first person you come to when you’re in need. I know you've grown out of needing people for the most part, but I don’t know. I’m not making any sense. Nat and I will meet you at the hospital.”
Wanda doesn't give you a chance to respond as she hangs up the phone. She scolds herself about how needy she sounded during the call.
“I think I’m finished up for today, whenever you’re ready to go,” Natasha strolls into the office.
Wanda stares at the computer screen for a moment, “I should be ready in half an hour.”
Natasha plops down on the couch of her wife’s office. It’s silent for a moment until Nat shifts on the couch which makes noise fill the office.
“So, do you want to talk about it?”
“ About what?” Wanda keeps her attention on the screen.
“What I said about being jealous of Kate?”
Wanda’s brow furrows, “Not particularly.”
Natasha strides over to the woman’s desk chair and places herself in Wanda’s lap. Wanda’s arms loop around the woman’s waist holding her in place.
“We need to talk about this moya lyubov,” the spy places gentle kisses on the base of Wanda’s neck.
The other woman whines, “Why?”
“Because we’re married and you’re in love with Y/n,” Natasha states plainly.
Wanda rolls her eyes, “You were jealous too.”
Natasha nods, “I was and I don’t have a problem admitting it.”
Wanda’s face buries itself in the crook of Natasha’s neck, “So what does this all mean?”
“I like her too,” Natasha states bluntly.
“ I don’t want to lose you,” Wanda’s voice is small as she speaks to her wife.
Natasha softly places her hand on Wanda’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet, “You will never lose me Wanda. I married you because I’m completely, utterly, madly in love with you. That feeling hasn’t gone anywhere.”
“I love you too,” Wanda’s eyes shine as they bore into Natasha’s.
“ I think we should think about what it would be like to add Y/n into our relationship dynamic,” Natasha speaks, but it sounds like a question.
Wanda tenses briefly, “I can admit that I have feelings for Y/n, but I don’t know if I can act on these feelings Nat.”
“Why not?”
Wanda closes her eyes, “I’ve known her too long, Nat. She’s the same age as my little brother, not to mention she's his best friend. If she doesn’t feel the same way, this will ruin everything.”
“Detka-”
“I don’t know if it’s better or worst that we both want her. How would we even tell her Natasha? I don’t want to lose anymore time with her,” Wanda begins to get emotional.
Natasha cups her wife’s face in both of her hands, “Baby, I know you’re scared. This is scary, I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that you love her and I think I could too. We’ve spent so much of our lives sacrificing for others, but I’m ready to sacrifice something for my own sake, aren’t you?”
“I am, but not at the expense of my relationship Y/n. I just got her back, Natasha. I’m not saying I never want to tell her, but I can’t do this now,” Wanda tries to turn her head away from her wife.
Natasha doesn’t let her, but instead places a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. Wanda relaxes under Natasha’s touch, feeling all of the stress of the day seeping out of her body.
“ Don’t hide from me, Wanda. I want you to share your feelings, I won’t ever judge you,” Natasha whispers against the taller woman’s lips.
“I don’t want to disappoint you. I know you’re ready but-”
Natasha shakes her head, “It’s not just about me, it’s about us. I don’t want to push you to do anything you aren’t ready for. If you want to pursue Y/n, I’m with you, but if you don’t, I'm still with you.”
Wanda nods softly, “I want to, but I- I need time.”
Natasha kisses her again, “Whenever you’re ready baby. Now finish up so we can go.”
“You’re not going to move?” Wanda questions her wife.
Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh, “ You can’t work around me?”
Wanda scoots herself into the desk. She slightly pushes Natasha to press into her further. The spy’s head is in the nape of Wanda’s neck.
“I can and if I’m being honest it’s my preferred method of doing work,” Wanda begins to focus on the computer again.
She works diligently with her wife in her lap. Having Natasha there makes her work go by a little faster and feel a lot less stressful. She finishes up within the hour.
Once she’s done Wanda shoots a text to Y/n saying that they were headed to the hospital. The girl replies saying she’ll meet them there.
Natasha drives, one hand on the wheel and the other holds Wanda’s hand. Her thumb caresses the back of the passengers hand trying to provide comfort, knowing that this was not an easy task for her.
Wanda had only visited her father once. She hated seeing him in such a fragile state. It almost didn't feel like he was her father. He couldn’t be the same man that took her to the city fair, the same mam that placed flowers in her hair, the man that invested his entire life in her dreams, it couldn’t be. This wasn’t the man that kept her safe from her nightmares, because looking at him in this state was beginning to feel like one.
When they arrived they went inside the building.
“If you don’t tell me what room he is in you won't live to the end of the week to regret it,” you argue with the receptionist.
Kate’s behind you her hand resting on your shoulder trying to pull you out of the conflict.
“It’s family only mam, one more outburst and I will have security throw you out,” the receptionist said causing a vein to pop in your neck.
“Is there a problem here?” Natasha speaks up first.
“Nothing that concerns you,” the receptionist snaps at the spy.
You interrupt, “You don't talk to her like that.”
Before things escalate any further Wanda slams her hand on the receptionist’s desk with her card under her palm.
“Now tell me what room my father is in, “ Wanda’s eyes look fiery as she stared at the receptionist.
The receptionist looks at the card bestie her eyes go wide, “Terribly sorry for the mix up Mrs. Maximoff, didn’t know she was in your company.”
Wanda peers down at the receptionist, “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. I don't ever want to hear you address either of these ladies in a disrespectful manner again.”
“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff sorry about that. It won’t happen again. He’s in room 286,” the receptionist looked ten sizes smaller.
You can’t help but give the woman a death glare as you head towards the elevator. Kate stops you on the way.
“I’m going to head home are you going to be alright?” Her eyes subtly glance in Wanda and Natasha’s direction.
“I’ll be fine Katie,” you reassure her.
“Ok just checking. Text me later and make sure you're taking care of yourself,” Kate pulls you into a tight hug.
The sound of someone clearing their throat ends your hug with the doe eyed girl. Kate smiles at you upon the release of the hug, she then waves goodbye, leaving you with the married couple.
“And you’re sure you and Kate aren’t dating?” Wanda can’t help, but comment.
You roll your eyes, “Positive, Katie and I are just friends.”
“What did you do after you left work ?”
You all pile into the elevator as you answer, “Nothing really. We just watched some tv and ordered some food. How was it at the office?”
Wanda goes to answer but Natasha stops her, “No work talk out of the office.”
“Well then what are we going to talk to Dragos about?” You attempt to joke in hopes of brightening the mood.
“ You can call him Papa you know?” Wanda takes her time looking at you.
“I know-”
She cuts you off, “Mama too.”
You nod to yourself, “I know, it’s just not my normal.”
Natasha speaks up, “It honestly feels like you’re fighting against their names when you say them. Mama and Papa sound natural coming from you."
“It feels like they are my parents.”
“They are,” Wanda grabs onto your hand as you approach Dragos’ room.
The air feels different when you enter the room. It’s hard to look at him in such a state. He lies still on the hospital bed with machinery hooked up to him. There are less machines than originally, but still too many in your eyes.
Flora sits by the side of the bed with her hand in his. The view is somber, it takes nearly everything in you not to cry. Almost as if she can sense the tension building in your body, Wanda squeezes your hand.
“How’s he been Mama?” Wanda’s moved closer to her mother’s side, dragging you with her.
“The same, but the doctors are saying that's a good thing for now at least,” she sighs heavily.
“And how are you Mama?” You ask looking over the woman’s features.
Flora sends you a small smile, “I’m tired sweetheart, but I’ll live.”
“Have you been going home?” Wanda questions further.
“To shower and change clothes.”
Wanda’s voice takes a stern tone, “Mama, you need to rest.”
The older woman shakes her head, “I can't leave him for too long.”
“He wouldn’t want you spending all your time here,” you say softly.
“It’s not about what he wants for once. If he didn’t want me here he would’ve listened when I told him going to meet Fisk alone was a bad idea,” she glares at her sleeping husband.
“I’ll have his head for this,” Wanda gets agitated at the mention of Kingpin.
“Blowing up the ports wasn’t enough?” Flora comments.
“Power move, just to prove that there are no cracks in our business affairs,” Wanda’s jaw sets.
Flora looks at her daughter, “He’s not going to take this lying down.”
“I know.”
You squeeze Wanda’s hand to reassure her, “ We’ll be ready for him."
Flora lets out a sad laughter, “You sound just like him Y/n.”
“ That’s a compliment for the ages. I hope I could be half of the person he is,” your gaze falls into your lap.
“You already are. You kids have always made us both so proud.”
You desperately want to ask more about Dragos’ condition, but you refrain. The conversation stays light as you reminisce about the man.
Natasha doesn't say much, but her presence does provide someone to share with. She's hearing most things about her father-in-law for the first time. She's getting a good look into the man he is.
She pays attention to the way you and Wanda both light up when sharing stories. It warms her heart to see the two of you looking genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.
When it’s time to go the mood drops a bit, but not too much. It’s when Natasha goes to follow Wanda and Y/n out of the room when Flora stops her.
“You make sure they're taking care of themselves,” Flora hugs the redhead and whispers in her ear.
Natasha nods, “I will Mrs.Maximoff.”
They head home after that, exhaustion finally catching up to them.
A small dilemma plagues your mind when you get home. Part of you wishes to go with Wanda and Natasha into their apartment where you know you can get a good night's rest. The other part of you tells you that you shouldn't make it a habit. It's a lose-lose situation.
Begrudgingly you decide to go to your own apartment.
“I’ll see you guys later,” you try and give a small goodbye.
Wanda grabs your forearm, “You can come over tonight, if you need to. No matter the time. Alright, little krolik?”
Your eyes shift over to Natasha who smile, showing agreement with her wife, “The door is always open for you.”
You struggle to keep your composure, “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
Your house feels extra empty as you enter. The weight of the day sets into your system. Getting ready for bed seems pointless as you know you won’t be getting any sleep.
Staring at the ceiling seems different, knowing that across the hall was the woman that you had spent your teen years pining over. Yet, knowing that she could love you didn’t make your heart flutter like it was supposed to. It sent an anxiety running through your chest.
You knew that she was probably curled up in the bed next to her wife. Her drop dead gorgeous, kind hearted, Russian spy, wife. A woman in a league of her own, in her own right.
The thought didn’t make you jealous, but it had an adverse effect on you. You wanted to be there, to be involved, to be a part of what they had.
You groan placing a pillow over your head in a dull effort to quiet your thoughts.
Your phone rings on the dresser and you pick it up, and mumble a hello with the pillow still over your head.
“Come over.”
“Natasha?”
There’s a hum over the line, “Yes, are you coming or do I need to come get you?”
You shuffle out of the bed, keeping the phone to your ear, “Is something wrong?”
“Well-"
She’s cut off by her wife, “Come to bed little krolik. I need the extra warmth.”
Natasha chuckles, “Wanda refuses to sleep in your absence. She’s getting a little grumpy.”
“ I’m not grumpy. Tell her to hurry,” Wanda argues with Natasha.
This makes your heart flutter like it’s supposed to, “Are you sure it’s ok Nat?”
“ Lisichka I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you back in our bed.”
You feel a blush take over your features as you exit your home.
“ Ok, open the door,” you murmur and it takes no time for the spy to let you into her home.
Natasha looks exhausted as she grabs you by the arm and drags you wordlessly to the bedroom.
Wanda’s already in the bed and when she sees you she does a grabbing motion towards you. You shake your head before climbing into the bed. She wraps her arm around your waist and snuggles closer to you.
“You sleep here now. It’s better for all of us,” She mumbles against your skin.
“Ok,” you don’t fight her on it, knowing she’d probably forget in the morning.
You look up at Natasha shyly. She still stands over the bed. In a similar fashion to Wanda, you stick out your arms for her.
Natasha grins as she climbs into your arms. You carefully drape your arm over the spy, resting your hand against her flat stomach.
For the second night in a row you find yourself comfortable in their bed. You all think about how you shouldn’t indulge in this feeling, scared it won’t last.
It’s like the couple can read your mind. Wanda’s hold on you tightens and Natasha turns to face you. They keep you safe in their embrace and the thoughts in your head quiet.
No one says anything, but you all feel it. There’s a shift in your relationship and you won’t be able to ignore it for much longer.
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Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader
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scarletttries · 2 months
Text
When The Straw Hats Fall In Love... (One Piece Request)
Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader
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Monkey D. Luffy
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- When Monkey falls in love he's not even sure he can put his finger quite on what's happening to him. All he knows is that he likes it. A lot.
- Luffy gets excited when any new pirate joins his crew, his constant ability to see the best in people never ceasing to amaze the rest, but when you first set foot aboard the Merry it's better than he could have ever imagined.
- When you're around he feels a new level of confidence, like he's two steps closer to achieving his dream and everything is working out for him just how it's supposed to be. He wakes up every morning and practically bounces out of bed at the thought of seeing your smile and sharing his thoughts from the night before with you.
- He loves all his friends, but with you he feels a thousand feet tall, stomach bubbling up in excitement, no matter how much he's eaten. He's always bothering Nami at her desk trying to find cute islands to stop off at along the way, just in case that would make you smile and his life would feel complete once again.
- It would be Nami too that first helped Monkey realise just what he's feeling. The first time he skipped a meal to keep you company on your watch she'd realise this is more than just the usual Luffy charms. She'd be surprisingly thoughtful as she sat him down and talked him through what his feelings might mean, and if he thought it was at all possible he might like you more than a friend. What she wasn't expecting was for him to cheer at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of the whole crew as he climbs aboard the table and screams for all to hear 'I'M IN LOVE!"
- Naturally the first thing he has to do is find you. He doesn't worry about if you don't feel the same way, because honestly that wouldn't make this feeling any less sweet, and if someone loved him this way, he'd definitely want to know. You'd be pulled from whatever you were concentrating on with a quick rap of knuckles against the door frame before Luffy charged in anyway, limbs flying everywhere as his feet skid to a halt just in front of you.
"Hey (y/n)! Nami just helped me realise I'm in love with you! Isn't that great?!" It's hard not to be taken aback by this, but with his big smile beaming at you, the young man practically vibrating with excitement at just the presence of his love, your heart quickly follows suit. Before you've even finished telling him that you feel the same his arms around wrapped tightly around you, pulling you into a hug of fierce adoration that he plans to repeat at least 100 times a day.
- Prepare yourself for; Surprise hugs and kisses when you least expect them, Luffy clinging to you every night without fail, afternoons spent on the ship's figurehead while he shouts echoing compliments to the oceans, midnight feasts, island adventures passed hand in hand, being told you are one of his new dreams, and unwavering support and loyalty.
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Zoro
- Zoro knows exactly what that uncomfortable aching deep in his chest is, he just wasn't expecting to find it so distracting.
- Your voice calling his name echoes through his mind as he tries to practice his sword training, stirring enough that he finds himself glancing over his shoulder periodically just to ensure you haven't snuck up behind him, probably to check on him in that soft, selfless way you often do.
- Your face is the last thing that flashes before his eyes whenever he's in the throes of a sword fight, an extra consideration in how hard he has to fight to survive, to make sure he always makes it home safe to you. He'll never admit it but after a particularly dangerous day he'll often be found sleeping against the wall beside your cabin door. He finds he can't sleep sometimes unless he knows you're safe, and he'd never be so bold as to invite himself in.
- Your laughter always manages to bring a smile to his face, so much so that he envies Sanji's ability to make witless retorts that always manage to draw that sweet sound out of you. He asks Usopp to teach him a few jokes, but quickly leaves that lesson when he realises all these 'jokes' are just long stories of his so-called bravery.
- Zoro finds when he lays down to sleep, you are all he can dream of. The times you spoke that day, the way you looked as you shared a meal with the others, the efforts you put in to keep the crew safe and well. It floods his chest with warmth as you dance through his thoughts, spurring him to try and find even more excuses to be close to you the following day. To have a few extra moments by your side to help him drift off again.
- Zoro may think he's a stoic man of mystery, but after the first time he falls asleep leaning against your doorframe you start to get an idea of the depth of his feelings. You watch him warm to you and you alone, chasing your company every chance he can take it, and keeping a watchful eye over you whenever the situation turns dangerous. So after one of your more dangerous adventures, you listen out for the tell tale clanging of his swords as he sets up his camp outside your door, and finally you pull it open just a touch, enough for your words to escape without the swordsman having to face you.
"I always feel safer with you near Zoro, but why don't you come in so you can rest a bit more comfortably too?" You listen to the heavy pause your invitation leaves in the air until finally the door pushes slightly more open, and Zoro steps into your cabin, more bashful than you've ever seen him. As you take him gently by the hand and lead him to the untucked edge of your bed, you can feel your own heart swell with anticipation, the threshold of your door crossed and an invisible boundary broken down along with it.
- Prepare yourself for; furtive smiles thrown your way when no-one else is looking, a firm hand on yours whenever you two have to leave the ship, nights passed in peaceful quiet with Zoro's head resting on your lap, Zoro never far away when you're going about your day, grumpy grunts whenever Sanji flirts with you, and quiet confessions of the depths of his love when all is dark and still.
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Nami
- Nami is furious. She's spent so much time and work putting up walls and barriers to keep her heart safe. To keep herself undistracted. To make sure she's a lone wolf that can look after number one when she needs to. And you hopped over every wall of her fortress with a simple hello and a trusting smile.
- Nami's the type to be in denial at first. She can't get lost in your beauty if she barely makes eye contact with you. She can't hang on your every word if you two hardly talk. She can't be in love with you if she convinces herself that she can't stand you, and keeps herself busy and out of your way.
- Unfortunately for her, absence only makes the heart grow fonder, and all of her efforts to change her mind only leave her craving your company even more. When she relents and sits next to you for the next cabin meal she feels a surge of guilt at her avoidance when you offer her the widest smile and say you're so happy to see her after she's been so busy. You were worried she wasn't looking after herself so you make sure Sanji gives her the biggest bowl before Luffy can come and claim it. At that point Nami knows there's no use fighting her feelings for the one person she can trust to look after her and her heart, even if she's spent most of her life convincing herself she doesn't need that. Her hand slides slowly across the bench until her little finger brushes against yours, the brief contact enough to light a spark in you both.
"I'll be around a lot more now."
- Prepare yourself for; Late night confessions under the stars, sitting with your legs intertwined as she works on maps, Nami always taking the seat next to yours and giving a death glare if one of the boys gets there first, evenings passed in small town bars learning card games and scooting your seats ever closer to each other, arms wrapping around your waist whenever you're working on something that requires your full attention, and being the safest place for one another in a chaotic pirate life.
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Sanji
- Sanji has felt the aching touch of affection before, the ever flirty chef finding himself distracted by the beauty of many passing women, but from the minute he lays eyes on you, he knows he's never felt like this.
- He wants to flirt with you the way he's been practicing for years, but he finds whenever you smile up at him he gets short on breath and can only stare helplessly at you while you fill in the awkward silence. It takes him weeks of desperate longing before he can even hold a conversation with you, the sly smile plastered on his face more sincere than he would ever let on.
- He makes all your favourite foods, as often as he can get away with, putting in extra care and attention to the plate he plans to give to you. Every time you hum happily and praise his work, he feels weightless and euphoric, grateful for the hours spent honing his craft for the opportunity to impress you.
- It becomes a running joke amongst the crew that you're the only person Sanji won't flirt with, the behaviour all the more obvious by how red he turns whenever Zoro points it out to him, taking the chance to do an awful impression of Sanji flirting with you and coming out with lines Sanji views as completely unworthy of your ears. The truth is there's nothing he could say to make you love him with the unwavering depth that he loves you, no words that could capture the sheer wonder of your essence, the light that shines on him with every moment spent in your presence.
- You decide to take mercy on the chef one morning, waking before the rest of the crew and joining Sanji in the kitchen while he prepares to make everyone breakfast. He thinks about making a heartfelt comment about 'to what does he owe the pleasure of your company' or 'how it's unfair to visit him so early as it means his day will have already peaked' but he can't find the combination of words you deserve to hear so instead he just beams and says good morning, eyes devoted following your movements as you settle onto the kitchen counter beside where he's working.
"Sanji, why don't you flirt with me?" The question has hung in the air unspoken a dozen nights before, but today it's fired directly at him, sending his pulse racing as his mouth seems to seal shut of its own accord. He puts down the bowl he was intently stirring and approaches you instead, carefully tiptoeing the so obvious line between you.
"Well when I flirt with everyone else it's just harmless fun. It doesn't mean anything."
"And what would it mean with me?" He should have seen your follow up coming, the knowing look in your eyes spurring him to finally voice the affections that have plagued him for weeks.
"Everything." He watches open mouthed as your fingers run down the length of his tie before capturing the end, pulling him slowly towards your grinning lips and finally letting him find his confidence again.
- Prepare yourself for; breakfast in bed that quickly descends into heated kisses, being lifted onto the kitchen counter so Sanji can periodically stop by to kiss you while he cooks, cakes with soppy sentiment iced on top left outside your door throughout the day, unwavering physical affection regardless of whose around, a litany of sweet nicknames muttering directly into your ear as he nuzzles into your neck, and your lips being the sweetest thing the chef has ever tasted.
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Usopp
- Usopp is no stranger to the feelings of love, having already stilled his heart once for a love that couldn't be, he finds himself once again falling head over heels when you enter his life.
- A man of outlandish tales and dramatic exploits, the first hint that you might be someone special to him is the fact that when he's alone with you he only wants to tell the truth. No dramatics, no exageration, when he's with you Usopp just wants to tell you everything that he's ever experienced exactly as it happened. He needs you to know the truth about his life, he needs you to see the real him, he needs you to look at him for exactly who he is, so you can decide if that's an Usopp you can love.
- He often offers to make you a warm tea before bed, when the ship is quiet and he can steal a moment of privacy, so the two of you can stare out the small rounded windows in your cabins and just let your thoughts and feelings spill out like water bubbling too close to the surface. He finds himself enthralled with your reactions to his tales, the kindness you offer him when he speaks of his mother, the genuine praise to even his minor accomplishments, and the shared joy when you two recount you time with Luffy.
- When he ends your talks, when you're both struggling to keep your eyes open and threatening to drift off in each other's arms and he finally gets up the resolve to excuse himself so you can rest, he always ends them by telling you that you're the only person who knows that story. You think he's just making you feel special, that he's known for sharing these glimpses into his past, but the truth is that you ARE special and only you have ever heard this side of Usopp before.
- Usopp speaks so honestly and so freely around you that he finds himself having to hold back describing his feelings for you most nights. He hates that that's the one thing he's yet to be honest about, but he knows that with every passing night, his confession only becomes more inevitable. What he doesn't expect is you leaning across the small bench you two are curled up on and placing a soft kiss on his cheek at the end of one night, and telling him you hope he will always share his stories with you. The beaming smile on his face as he promises he'll keep telling you stories forever, leaning back in for a kiss of his own, reveals as much as his words do.
- Prepare yourself for; Usopp dancing with you at inopportune moments, you being the greatest source of his strength and bravery, hunting through markets for little matching accessories, lying on the beach together whenever an island's weather allows, never keeping any secrets, and the arms of the bravest pirate boyfriend constantly wrapping around your waist.
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lunargrapejuice · 9 months
Text
taking a hit for diluc | 5k words
warnings: fem!reader, hurt/comfort, unestablished relationship, reader gets hurt obvi, blood mention, spoilers for dilucs back story, love confession, uh i dont think anythink else but please let me know if i missed anything!
amazing wonderful inspired art by bobaboob<3
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it was by chance, and a bit of yearning that he so easily crumbled to, that diluc had joined you on your commissions today and the deeper you made it into this eerie domain full of lurking monsters and cobwebs, he’s thankful he had listened to the heart within his chest that longed to see you after many busy days at the winery and his gut feeling that it had to be today of all days. 
he trusted your strength, knew you were capable but there was something about this place that had all of his senses on high alert and the vision hanging from his belt glowing bright red in waiting anticipation. but he kept close to you, never letting you farther than arm's reach and too distracted by his need to protect you, he hadn’t noticed the way the proximity affected you. 
this close, the familiar scent of him wrapped around you and made your entire body burst with heat. when you look up at him, seeing the sharpness of his ruby eyes, his brows set in stern seriousness and his bright mane of hair spilling over his back, butterflies in your chest beat against your rib cage and you feel yourself falling for him even more. 
sensing your eyes on him, with a blink of thick lashes, he looks down at you and heat instantly rushes to your face at the fond look he gives you; so incredibly soft compared to the ever stoic master diluc most saw. you both break the brief eye contact, full of palpable silence, at the same time. the red leather of dilucs gloves flash in your side view, further covering his face with a quiet clear of his throat and the stiffening of his body still so close to yours. 
“keep your guard up,” he reminds you, direct as he usually was but there’s no harshness in his tone. “and stay close to me.”
without looking back at him, you do. shifting an inch or two closer in steps, enough so that his hand that had been stretched close to you for a while now was now hovering over your lower back, the tips of his fingers grazing your skin ever so slightly in his long strides. it made your heart beat wildly, the significance of his touch never ceased to help that at all. 
you know he didn’t willingly touch many, if anyone at all, and you knew he certainly didn’t need to be this close to you now. the space of the gray and cold domain around you was large, almost scarily so, with pitch black corners not revealing any end to the room, the floor disappearing into the dark depths. the stairs that you approached were easily wide enough to fit more than five people, the descent downward flickering with pale light, but here he was, so close he could easily pull you into him if he wanted. and he had been nearly this close since meeting you at the adventurers guild kiosk this morning.
not that you were complaining. never when it came to diluc. it wasn’t all that unusual for him to be like this with you either. your touch and proximity had never seemed to bother him but you had always moved at his pace even if at times, much like this one, you wished to reach up and touch his porcelain skin. let your fingers get lost in his crimson locks or caress the curve of his jaw, the delicateness of his pink lips, maybe even ki-
suddenly, without warning, your distracted thoughts are cut off and all you can do while you try to figure out what’s happening is to reach for the strong arms extended out to you. your heart felt like it stopped completely, your breath caught in your throat. dilucs worried yell of your name echoes in your ears, like you had never heard him say before, and as with him now above you rather next to you, you realize you’re falling. no longer on solid ground, the stairs that once held you had crumbled under your feet as if they were made of sand. 
you hadn’t heeded his full reminder to keep your guard up, still so very distracted by his handsomeness and your long held off affections, that you hadn’t noticed the weakness of the stone until you were already falling with them, the distance of your descent unknown to you. diluc had tried to catch you and pull you up but when he could not, though he still ensured he got ahold of you in some way, he didn’t hesitate to jump in and fall with you.
with more force than he would have normally used with you he grabs ahold of your upper arm, ensuring there was no way you’d slip from his grasp, and with his strength pulls you against his chest. your vision is taken over by the gold stitching of his black coat and the contrasting white vest that he presses you against as you fall through the air. your hands hold onto him tightly while one of his wraps around your head and the other keeps you firm against his body.
your world is turned upside down when mid air diluc turns so it was him who took the brunt of the fall, and your entire weight on top of him, as you crashed onto the ground. he let out a choked down grunt upon meeting the hard stone after falling for what felt like quick and yet somehow slow seconds. 
you wished that had been the end of it, that you could have gotten up and checked on him and made your way out of this place, not making the same mistake you had of letting your feelings get the better of you and draw your attention from your surroundings. not if it would mean diluc getting hurt. but even with the impact of both of you crashing into the ground you continued to tumble down, steep and thin steps carrying you deeper and deeper into the unknown.
dilucs arm around your head is strong but not crushing as he tucks you into his chest more, his broad shoulders and flexed arms encasing you against him as best he could while he tries to slow your bumpy descent. even with his heavy scent enveloping you, the damp and mildewy air felt suffocating, sickening. you hardly feel much of the stairs aside from the non-stop jostling of your body and legs and the spinning of the world but your own discomfort was the last thing on your mind right now.
it's a few more painfully long moments before you hit a platform and are stopped from moving any farther in the middle of it. the arms around you are hesitant to remove themselves and for a moment, they don’t. dilucs chest under your head rises with deep breaths, his heart pounding in your ears and in the quiet where only your breaths fill the place, he just holds you. you let the hints of wine, oak and bergamot fill your noise, calm your anxious heart and had you wishing it was a far more ideal situation that would lead you to laying with him like this.
not now. every nerve in your body tingled, screamed those words and nearly brought you right to your feet. when you shot up, met with little resistance from his arms, your legs now straddling his middle, diluc immediately began to worry you were hurt.
“are you alright?” he asks urgently, his hands now holding onto your hips to help you fully off of him so he could examine you properly. they don’t leave you as he checks you over. his heart was racing frantically at the thought that he might have let you get injured, his eyes dark and full of kindling fire as he looks you over from the moment you parted from his chest. 
he didn’t see any visible injuries on you but he hardly believed you were okay just because you looked it. his own body ached from each harsh hit of stone and carved corners, not that he paid it any mind right now, but what if what he had done to try to lessen your damage wasn’t enough.. you hadn’t even answered his question yet and when he brought his eyes to your face, his concern grew when you were looking in the distance rather than at him.
dammit, he needed to get you both out of here.
“something’s not right..” you mumble, though it was more like you were talking to yourself than him.
“with you?” he asks more harshly than he meant to, his grip on you growing tighter. the pressure must have broken your attention, as you finally look at him like you hadn’t said something alarming or haven't been unresponsive to his words till now. “what’s wrong?” he urged.
“are you hurt?” you ask, your voice shaking with worry. he had a pained look on his face that made your heart throb, made you want to cry because this had been all your fault. if you had just paid attention to your surroundings and taken your steps more carefully you might not be in this situation and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. “i’m so sorry diluc..”
you hadn’t heard any of his questions before. and as much as you worried for him, wanted to be sure he was okay, from the moment you stood all you could focus on was the unfamiliar space around you. you were not entirely sure what was not right, it wasn’t your physical state and by the stillness of the room it didn’t seem as though you were in any immediate danger but you can’t shake this indescribable feeling coursing through your veins. like celestia and the universe itself was telling you something but you couldn’t begin to discern their message.
he saw the worry behind your eyes, felt his heart ache at your saddened expression, and with his emotions on high, could not hold back from his next actions like he normally would have. you often had him wanting to act on the wishes of his heart, the heart that you invaded the walls of and held in your hands even if you didn’t know it. sometimes he had given in, much like now, caressing the skin of your cheek with his fingers delicately, unable to take his eyes off of you, showing you a much softer side of him than he showed most. one he hadn’t had in a long time, one he lost, but came back so naturally when it came to you.
“it’s okay. i am okay” he promises. “please y/n..” he needed you to say it outloud. he needed to hear it to know for sure. “are you okay?”
you nod to assure him, unable to lean into his touch like you might have were the air not prickling every nerve of your skin. 
his knitting brows, sharpening eyes and growing frown tell you he hadn’t believed you and to avoid his scrutinizing gaze, you look away. as your eyes fall to the corner of the platform and you see a flicker in the deep shadows, you finally begin to understand what had kept you so uncomfortable since falling down here and that it was too late to stop it now.
the amount of strength that you used to push him was more than he had expected from you. it came so suddenly too, he hadn’t been able to brace himself in time or even grab ahold of you to pull you down with him because just as quickly as your hands met his chest and felt his heart nearly jump from his chest, he hit the ground for the umpteenth time today.
there wasn’t any time to think about what was happening when the truth of it flashed before his eyes as it did; slow and agonizing and gut wrenching like it had been another time in his life where he failed to protect those he loved and their blood coated his skin. and he hadn’t even gotten the courage to tell you that he loves you before someone took you from him..
you swore you heard the impact of the thrown weapon piercing you echo in the staircase, ricocheting off of walls and coming back to add to your pain, burying deep as it flung you back and had you hitting the ground with a muffled thud. everything was muffled really, the hurried movements around you and the bellowing yells, even the ringing in your ears seemed distorted and fading along with your consciousness and the air within your lungs.
you wanted to give into it too, close your eyes and drift off, not feel the unbelievable pain coursing through you and making you cry. there hadn’t been just a sharp edge on this weapon but something to ensure who it was thrown at would not survive, you could feel it burning your insides as it spread throughout your entire being and made this so much worse. with every pump of your blood you felt weaker and weaker, knew that was the warmth that you pooled in but it was hard to make much sense of anything else. you only knew something other than your own hurting body when diluc came into view.
even through blurry vision you knew it was him and felt the suffering lessen knowing he was okay, just like you had hoped when you threw yourself in front of a weapon you were sure was meant for him. perhaps alive is a better word to describe him at this moment, you think, because the indescribable pain on his face did not in the least say he was okay and the clearer it became, the louder his voice sounded in your ears, your pain returned, though this time it was in the form of your breaking heart.
“why would you do that?!” he hadn’t meant to yell the words as he fell to the gound next to you but fuck, he had lost himself.
his whole body shook with crumbling agony. his head and heart throbbed at the flashbacks that choked him in the familiar fear of that day years ago; the same shade of red painting you as it had his father, the same worthless trembling hands not knowing if they would cause further damage if they were to touch you, your weak breaths taking all of the air around him with them.
from where he was beside you, the burning tears that escaped past his eyes fell on your skin, on the arm you tried to move in order to reach out and comfort him but you couldn’t move. as your eyes came upon his face, blinking slow but fighting to stay open, you wondered if the last thing you would see of this world was the man you love in so much anguish, his voice hoarse as he yelled.
“dammit y/n why?!”
why did you not let me take the hit..
why are you still looking at me with those kind and loving eyes..
why is celestia so hell bent on taking everyone i love..
he isn’t sure which he meant to voice or which he felt shredding his heart more but it had been impossible to gather himself from the moment he pulled the fatui agent from the shadows at an incredible speed. he was fueled by the same force that gave you the strength to push him to the ground as he wielded a burning blade that still remained lodged and engulfed in flames in their lifeless body a few feet away.
“because i love you,” you say with a smile, swallowing hard at how tiring and painful it was to speak but you couldn’t stop the words even if you tried. you did love him, so fucking much. you always had, always would and that love would drive you to do what you did a million times over if necessary. “and i..” you felt the tug of the darkness, the coolness of the floor as your cheek weakly rested there, the chill becoming a permanent part of you but there was still more you wanted to say and you hate that you can only say so little. “couldn’t.. let you get hurt..”
your words, your strained but sweet voice and the footsteps of the monsters you had attracted growing louder pulls him from the black flames of his past that had once consumed his heart and soul, just as it threatened to again now and still might if he didn’t do something. first, pulling the spear from your left rib cage, your body bending in pain, tears streaming down your face, as he dislodged it with a choked out ‘i’m sorry..’ before shedding his coat and pressing it to your wound. 
he could feel the stickiness of your blood running down his gloves, on his wrists and through his shirt from the moment he scooped you into his arms, one hand at your back and the other under your knees. with each step he took towards getting you out of here, the heat of those black flames still loomed over him but no longer left him rooted in place.
diluc keeps you pressed close to his chest that rises and falls with deep breaths, the heat radiating off of him nearly lulling you to the sleep you so badly want to succumb to but bright red fire, surrounding you both like the burning wings of a phoenix, protecting and all consuming, keeps your attention even if only enough to shave off the darkness calling your name for a little longer.
but not even those bright flames, so beautiful and somehow feeling like they were all for you, can keep your body and mind from slipping into nothingness, into death that grasped you with one hand while diluc held on to tightly with his own.
“don’t close your eyes,” he begged, feeling you growing more limp in his arms, his broken voice so unfamiliar to you both. lightly he shook you just as he pushed through the entrance of the domain and made it into the evening sun, looking down at you in his arms fighting so hard to keep your eyes on him. “don’t fucking leave me.”
you felt another one of his tears then, hitting and soaking into your cheek, giving it a droplet of warmth. there was so much you wanted to say to comfort him. if you had the strength you would have taken him into your arms, combed your fingers through his hair and whispered reassurances into the crown of his head. the heavier your eyelids grew, your mind had easily taken you there; to a place where neither of you hurt. where you sat on his lap and he smiles with a blush at the tips of his ears as you leave a kiss on his temple before he looks up at you, something in his eyes that makes your heart beat faster, and catches your lips, kissing you longingly. 
it was like a dream and a part of you knew that’s truly all it was. you were fading fast, with not an ounce of strength to fight back. with your last bit of consciousness you shed a tear for losing the chance to have that and so much with him before the boney hand of death around your dangling wrist gave a tug and pulled you into the utter darkness.
he yells your name over and over, still running as quickly as he could, when he feels you go completely limp in his arms, sparing a glance from the road ahead of him to see your eyes shut, your lips near blue. the bile rolls in his stomach, the muscles of his legs wanting him to stop but he just pushes them harder, carrying you even faster towards dawn winery. it was close, he could nearly see it in the distance. 
“please.. hang on.”
the staff of the winery see him long before he’s even in the vineyard, a blur of red and the familiar figure of the one person who had seemed to steal their masters heart in his arms lifelessly. all of them clear the path leading forwards the waiting front doors where the maids are hurrying from room to room to grab everything they think they might need. 
“get a healer!” he barks orders as soon as anyone is in ear shot. his voice near booming throughout the entire estate.
his footsteps pound against the stone as he’s hurrying up the stairs towards the manor. in such a familiar place, he no longer looks in front of him but instead at his worst nightmare manifesting right in his arms, all because he had not been enough to save that which mattered most to him. 
elzer and adelinde are immediately at his side, the look on their masters face a painful reminder of what he had lost already and it kills them to see him so. but the entire staff of the winery would do anything to ensure that both of you made it through this. they had not been able to ignore how adoring diluc had become for you, nor how fond of you they had become themselves and they waited patiently for the day he would do something about it but to have you torn from him before he did.. to lose your bright smile around the winery.. they wouldn’t have it. they all had already lost so much and the young master especially so.
diluc hears elzer say something but against the beating of heart in his ears and the deafening silence coming from you, he can’t make out what it is. he’s suffocating, not even sure he’s breathing as he’s suddenly on the second floor of the manor, kicking his bedroom door open with force that nearly splintered the thick wood but the way he handles you when he places you in his sheets is a stark contrast, so beyond fragile and with every ounce of love that he had shared with you many times when he brought you in here in his dreams.
it wasn’t supposed to be like this and he isn’t even sure he meant to come in here but it’s where his feet took him, where he thought you would be the most comfortable and safe. and keeping you safe being the same reason that he couldn’t let go of you. he had not been strong enough to keep you safe in that domain, he had failed you, but he still held on as if letting you from his arms meant letting go of your precious life.
more footsteps leading up the stairs sounded outside of the room but the adelinde and elzer, standing around the large bed, were silent watching their beloved master kneeling on the bed next to you, his bangs covering his eyes that look so sorrowfully at your colorless visage, as if his entire world was collapsing, and he finally spoke the words they knew only scratched the surface for how he felt about you.
hunching over more and with the pressure of a bird's feather, he rests his forehead on yours, feeling himself choke on a sob at how cold your skin was. “i love you,” he confesses, pouring his warmth, his own life into you. “i’ll never let anyone harm you again.. i will always protect you just.. come back to me..”
adelinde was the first to notice the arrival of the healer, followed by the slowing steps of charles who had taken a horse to get the nearest one and bring them here. she is the one to finally approach diluc, having to kneel on the bed herself a bit in order to reach his shoulder where she places a gentle and loving hand, her chest tight at the way he shook under her palm.
“master diluc,” she coaxes him like a mother soothing her child back into her embrace. though he doesn’t budge from where he is, she knows he is listening, that he would let you go if it were her asking and assuring him. “the healer will be sure miss y/n is okay. let's give them the room.”
letting you go, leaving you, had been one of the hardest things he’s had to do and he had not done it easily but elzer and adelinde had shared a glance that had them both agreeing that it would be best that diluc not be in the room as the healer worked; for his own good and yours now that you were in the healers hands. 
he knew it too. a rational part of him that was drowning in the sea of his despair knew it would do no good to have him hovering over them, barking orders when fear and agony took over his every action. he hadn’t gone far, pacing the short length of this side of the balcony, his mind racing, not an ounce of his sanity returned, his breath still so hard to catch. 
for so long he has loved you, unable to say it outloud even when it was on the tip of his tongue. his worry, this exact scenario and far worse, keeping him from doing anything about it even when he wasn’t sure he could live without you and your lovely light that pierced his darkness.  would your blood stain his hands like so many others had? or could he have one day been worthy of your love? would this have ended up differently had he told you long ago how he felt? could he have protected you then? 
and you.. you loved him back. enough so to throw yourself in front of danger for him even though he hadn’t deserved it. you had wanted to protect him, which is something he could understand when he too had that burning, unwavering, desire but it doesn’t change his mind that it should have been him and he would give his life for yours if he could.
every set of minutes that passed diluc thinks he may be dying with you from how terribly his heart breaks and he continues to remind himself this is his fault. turning to nearly an hour, by the time the healer emerges from his quiet bedroom, he’s leaning his elbows on the banister, the hands buried in his hair keeping his head up pulling at the crimson locks like it may help him from losing his mind even more so. it didn’t but he had still held it off. his aching, yet beating heart, reminding him yours could still be beating too.
he shoots up before they can even say anything, his eyes piercing, his jaw tight. 
“master diluc, miss y/n is going to be okay,” the healer assures him with a relieved and tired smile. they say something about adelinde and your care from here but with quick steps he thanked them, his voice dripping with sincerity, as he passes by and makes his way to your side.
at your side is when his body finally gives way, adrenaline and sheer stubborn will of strength wearing off seeing that you were indeed alright. even if the bandage around you continued to serve as a reminder of his failure to you, there was color in your face and lips, your skin beginning to warm on its own and he felt hope bloom within his chest when he reached for your hand and your fingers wrapped around his in your sleep. his tired legs collapsed beneath him at the edge of the bed, his body aching and he was still filthy but none of that mattered as long as you were okay.
he isn’t sure how much time passes before your intertwined fingers stir for the first time since he had grabbed ahold of them, bringing his head from where it rested close enough to hear your breaths as you slept. he sees you wince when you try to move but before you can try again, unaware of where you were or what was happening, his other hand is caressing your cheek, moving hair from your face that slipped out of place in your uncomfortable movements.
his touch immediately stills you and your lashes flutter open to see him looking down at you, so many emotions behind the petals of his rose colored eyes. you go to speak, say his name, tell him how sorry you are, thank the archons he is okay but before any words can leave your mouth, you burst into tears, the motion aching the wound of your chest but you can’t seem to stop.
no words are spoken between you as he catches your tears on his bare fingers, soothing you with his unspoken love and warm touch, feeling himself fall back into place, that manic feeling evaporating off of him at the love you emanate in return. when it seems your tears have become too much, on the verge of hurting yourself, his name escapes past your lips in a hiccup.
“d-diluc-”
“shhh,” he felt his own eyes sting at your sobbing. “it’s okay, you’re safe.” but that didn’t seem to be enough to calm you.
your touch was weak and shaky reaching around his neck and pulling him down to you. he followed without resistance, one elbow above you keeping his weight off of you while his hand rests on the top of your head, touching your hair. you buried your face into his neck as you continued to cry his name and hold onto him as though he was your life line.
“i’m here,” he coos, relieved tears running down his own cheeks. he would be your life line, your sword, your protector, your devoted lover, for as long as you’d have him. but please always have him. “i’ve got you.”
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genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
1K notes · View notes
springtyme · 3 months
Note
You asked for Spencer-centric thoughts, and i shall deliver!
You cannot tell me that that during quarantine, reader and husband spencer didn’t do a wordle and the nyt mini crossword first thing in the morning. I just imagine r just doing it one day and technophobe spence absolutely clueless, yet intrigued and immediately getting hooked on them.
Anyways, thanks for helping all the hot people stay delusional xoxo
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡
Spencer Reid x reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist
Omg, anon, your mind!!! this is just simply *chefs kiss 😙👌 and totally something husband!Spencer would do! (Ugh, I need him so bad!) and I'm always down to keep the hotties delusional 💕 thank you so much for sending this in, lovie!
word count: 1.3k
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The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the bedroom where you lie in bed, still under the covers. It is another day of quarantine, another day of uncertainty and isolation. But thankfully, you are not alone.
Spencer, your husband of three years, is fast asleep next to you, his messy hair spread out on the pillow and his lips slightly parted. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him, so peaceful and serene in his slumber. 
With a sleepy smile, you grab your phone, there is still over half an hour till your alarm goes off. That is one of the nicer things that has come out of this whole ordeal, the extra time in the morning now that you have to work from home, and all the extra time you get to spend with Spencer is so precious to you. 
You can’t help but snap a quick picture of him as he lays there, he looks so peaceful and relaxed, and it is moments like these that you want to capture and keep forever, smiling to yourself as you make it your new home screen. 
You quickly scroll through your notifications, checking in on the latest news and messages before opening up the Wordle app. As you begin to fill in the letters, Spencer begins to slowly stir beside you. “Morning,” he murmurs before letting out a little yawn.
You look over at him, his eyes still half closed. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” you say with a chuckle, leaning over to plan a soft kiss on his cheek. Spencer grumbles in response, still half-asleep but clearly enjoying the affection.
He stretches languidly, his arm brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you. “What time is it?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.
“It’s still early,” you reply, showing him the screen of your phone. “We have some time before we need to get up.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Spencer mumbles, leaning into your touch as you run your fingers through his tousled hair with your nondominant hand while you continue to play the game, occasionally glancing over at Spencer as he slowly wakes up. The sunlight fills the room more and more, illuminating the warmth of the moment between the two of you.
“What are you up to?” he asks, as he finally opens his eyes fully, looking at the phone screen curiously.
You chuckle softly as he squints his eyes to better see the colorful grid of letters on your phone.“It’s just this word game I'm playing. I have to guess a five-letter word in six tries, and it gives me feedback on each guess. It’s pretty fun, actually. You wanna try?”
Spencer nods, still somewhat confused but willing to give it a try. You hand him the phone, and he furrows his brow in concentration as he studies the letters on the screen. After a few moments of contemplation, he tentatively enters his first guess. You watch with amusement as he receives the feedback and starts to strategize his next move, sitting himself up to rest his back against the headboard, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table.  
You can’t help but smile at his focus, his dedication to this simple word game making you love him even more. As he continues to guess and receive feedback, you snuggle closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Wow, you’re good at this,” you comment, it never never ceases to amaze you how his brilliant mind can adapt to new challenges with such ease.
“I guess all those hours of reading dictionaries finally paid off,” he jokes, chuckling at his own nerdiness.
He quickly finishes the game and looks at you triumphantly, a proud smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself. You laugh, giving him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek. “Good job, smarty pants,” you tease, feeling grateful for these simple moments of joy and connection with your husband. 
“Can I do another one?” he asks eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement.
“Sorry, babe, there is only one a day, you’ll have to wait till tomorrow”you say, ruffling his hair playfully. “But we can play together again tomorrow morning if you want.” 
Spencer pouts exaggeratedly, but then shrugs with a smile. “Alright, I’ll hold you to that.” 
“But the New York Times has a crossword puzzle we can do together if you want,” you suggest, knowing how much Spencer loves a good challenge. His eyes light up at the mention of the crossword puzzle, and he eagerly agrees.  
“You think I can get that Wordle thing on my phone too?” Spencer asks, reaching for his own phone, which he usually only uses for phone calls and texting, despite him being a walking oracle of knowledge not very tech-savvy and not very fond of technology. 
You laugh at his eagerness, nodding in approval. “Of course, I’ll help you get it set up,” you say, enjoying his enthusiasm. You can’t help but smile as the device lights up, the lock screen displaying a picture of the two of you on your last vacation, arms around each other, smiling brightly into the camera.
As you show Spencer how to download the app and set it up on his phone, you feel a surge of gratitude for the life you have built together. Despite the challenges of quarantine and the uncertainty of the future, you find solace in the warmth of your relationship and the simple joy of spending time with each other.
With the app up and running on Spencer’s phone, you both settle back against the pillows, ready to tackle the crossword puzzle together. As you work through the clues and fill in the boxes, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. The worries and stresses of the outside world fade away, replaced by the simple pleasure of being with the person you love.
The room fills with the sound of your laughter and playful banter as you work together to solve the puzzle. Spencer’s intelligence and wit never fail to impress you, and you feel fortunate to have him by your side, especially during these trying times.
After successfully completing the crossword puzzle, you both set aside your phone and cuddle up together, enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence before you eventually have to get up and join your zoom meetings.
As you snuggle closer to Spencer, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours, you can’t help but appreciate the love and companionship you share. “I’m so grateful that it is you that I’m stuck with,” you say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. 
Spencer turns to look at you, his eyes soft with affection. “I feel the same way, my love,” he replies, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to your lips. You lean into the kiss, feeling a rush of love and gratitude wash over you. “But we better get up and start our day,” Spencer says, reluctantly pulling away from you. You nod in agreement, not wanting to leave the comfort of the bed but knowing that the he is right.
With a shared sigh, you both get out of bed and start your morning routines, enjoying the simple moments of togetherness as you go about your day. The sun continues to shine through the windows, casting a warm glow over your home as you and Spencer get through the day. 
And as the day comes to a close, you both settle back in bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms, the warmth of your love and companionship surrounding you like a protective shield. And as you drift off to sleep, you know that as long as you have each other, you can face whatever life throws your way.
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rhinestonz · 4 months
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☆ CLEAN IT UP ☆
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The way your ass moved when he fucked you like this never ceased to amaze Geto. The way he wanted to set up camera after camera just to see your curves from every angle irked him. The urge was too strong , he just had to see you. Had to see how your tits bounced , how your mouth hung open , how your ass rippled as he hit you from behind. “ Fuck baby , I’m so sorry “ he cursed out , sultry voice soothing your ears. “Fuck you Geto ~” you choked out , “ if you think some dick is going to make up for this your so full of yourself” you said confidently. “Baby …” Geto started , furrowing his brows in faux concern “… is that why your arms are giving out ?”
Suguru Geto x thick!reader. Reader is poc. Doggy style. Pussy eating. Missionary. Eye contact. Sweet talk. Suguru is sweet.
☆ Geto was almost always away , he’d met you abroad on a mission actually. It was like lust at first sight rather than love. His eyes immediately scanning your figure, curvy as ever. Boobs full in your dress shirt and hips begging to be freed from the confines of your pencil skirt. Not to mention your ass , that grazed against his cock so many times during that mission that it ended with you full of his cock as he begged you to come home with him. So here you were , in your shared home , cleaning up the blood that trailed in with your boyfriend. Wincing away when he tried to kiss you. He took notice of your tired expression. “ baby what’s wrong ?” He inquired, pulling his hair tie out, letting his locs free. You simply grumbled , looking down at the ground , mopping furiously. He quickly got the hint , “ Oh baby I’m so sorry, the mission was hard” he pleaded, grabbing your hands , kissing the light of your palms. You still looked away from him , your bottom lip jutted out. “ The mission is always hard isn’t it ?” You sassed. 
And that’s why you were in this position now. Ass jiggling lewdly with every slap of Suguru’s hips. You swear you loved this so much. You told him that this wouldn’t make up but damn… you might just forgive him. His cock being hugged by your walls. His thrusts, fast but nestling deep inside you. Fat tip kissing your cervix. His huffing and small low grunts. This was bliss. Bliss , all you could feel as you creamed on his cock. White liquid, dripping slow down below you like honey. Your arms flickered as your chest heaved up and down. Your boobs moving with every breath. You don’t know what persuaded you to think he was done, this was Geto after all. 
“Cmon baby , gotta make it up dont I ?” He teased, hands digging into the fat of your hips as he turned you around. Your tits jumping , sloshing around in a circle before resting. Only to start to bounce again as Geto’s cock fucked into you. Your face burned, you couldn’t handle the way his dark eyes stared into yours. Studying your face , the way it contorted in pleasure. His large hand pushing down on your stomach , trying to feel himself under the fat of your tummy. “ There I am baby , can you feel me ?” He asked , lips curling into a smirk. “ Sorry dumb question , I’m all you can feel right ?” He slurred, making your face burn even more as those words broke the dam inside you. You felt your liquids gushing down his length. “ fucckkk Geto '' you whimpered out, feeling your prior confidence melt under his gaze. Your hands covering your face with urgency. And he took that personally ( 😒). Cock sliding out of you as his hand came to scoop up your wrist like nothing. Prying your hands away from your face , watching tears form as your eyes met his again. 
“ Look at me baby “ he coaxed, face lowering towards your cunt as his tongue swirled around the pink flesh. His eyes never left yours. You shut your eyes closed, biting your lip from the numb ache of overstimulation. You felt a slap on your thigh that he had pried open as a warning to look at him. Thighs pried open and wrist held behind your back. Your one free leg trying to push him away desperately. He detached himself from you just for a moment, looking up at you. “ Baby , let me clean you up , isn’t that why you're mad ? Cuz I’m messy ? Let me clean the mess' ' he said , smashing his lips back down to your core , lapping up all the juices until you were as pristine as before. Letting go of your wrist , watching your body fall back, chest still heaving up and down. “ Does that make up for it baby ~?” Suguru coed as he climbed next to you , hands lacing around your waist. You managed to roll your eyes `` sure “ you huffed out, lacing your arms around him too , placing a small kiss to his forehead. 
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hisui-dreamer · 2 months
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ode to the cunning octopus
Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x gn!reader
Synopsis: it didn't matter how he saw himself, because you would always be by his side to remind him how wonderful he is
Tags: drabble, fluff, slightly poetic hehe, reader is a simp for azul
Word count: 645
Notes: very belated happy birthday to azul!! to make up for being late i wrote a bit more than usual hehe. (azul you can't blame me i was working on assignments)
Masterlist
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Your lover possesses an undeniable charm that seems to effortlessly captivate all who cross his path. With a disarming smile and magnetic charisma, he effortlessly draws others in, captivating them like moths to a flame. His sharp wit, eloquent words, and calculated gestures make a lasting impression. But perhaps his most impressive skill lies in his negotiation tactics. A brilliant negotiator, he knows exactly when to push and when to pull, when to offer a compromise and when to stand firm. His ability to read people and anticipate their moves gives him a distinct advantage at the bargaining table, and the sight of him at work never ceases to amaze you.
Your lover is a paragon of hard work and dedication. Whether he's tirelessly managing the bustling affairs of the Mostro Lounge or buried deep in his studies, striving to maintain top grades, his commitment knows no bounds. His days are filled with a whirlwind of activity, yet he tackles each challenge with a grace and efficiency that is nothing short of awe-inspiring. Despite the demands of his responsibilities, he never falters, always pushing himself to new heights of excellence. It's this relentless drive and work ethic that sets him apart, earning him the respect and admiration of all who know him.
Your lover takes great delight in showering you with the spoils of his hard-earned wealth. With each lavish gift and luxurious comfort he bestows upon you, his eyes gleam with satisfaction, fueled by the desire to see the radiant smile spread across your face. Yet it's the simple pleasures he relishes the most—wrapping you in the soft embrace of your favourite blanket, watching as contentment floods your features, knowing that in that moment, his efforts have brought you joy beyond measure. For him, the truest wealth lies not in the riches he accumulates, but in the happiness he brings to you, his angelfish.
Your lover is meticulously careful with his diet and weight, determined to maintain a certain image of himself. He meticulously counts calories, carefully monitoring his intake and meticulously planning his meals to ensure they align with his health goals. Yet, despite his disciplined approach, there are moments when you catch a glimpse of his longing for the indulgent pleasures he denies himself. In those moments, you can't help but want to spoil him, to see the joy light up his face as he savors the flavors he so often denies himself. So every once in a while, you find subtle ways to indulge his cravings, knowing that a little bit of indulgence can bring a smile to his face and a warmth to your heart.
Your lover possesses a comforting presence like no other. Whenever exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you, you know you can seek solace as you snuggle into his trench coat. And without hesitation, he drops everything to tend to your needs, his touch gentle and soothing, his words a balm to your weary soul. There's an ease in his presence when he’s with you, a tranquility that washes over him as soon as you wrap your arms around him. It's as if the weight of the world lifts from his shoulders, replaced by the warmth of your touch and the gentleness of your love. As you hold him close, feeling his heartbeat steady against yours, you know that in your arms is where he truly belongs, finding solace and contentment in your embrace.
Your lover is a man of contradictions, a paradox wrapped in an enigma. But beneath the layers of complexity lies a heart of gold, a love that burns fiercely and unconditionally. And as you gaze into his eyes, you know that no matter the trials that lie ahead, you will always stand by his side, for better or for worse, until the end of time.
Your lover, is none other than Azul Ashengrotto.
Masterlist
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