#it makes him feel bad but he tries to reassure himself by comparing their heats to house's. they don't understand how bad it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

Note

I don’t know if you have this but please can i request headcandons of the spiderverse Boys with their lover reader wearing their (spider boys) clothing like a hoodie or a t shirt?

Miles thought he had stopped breathing when he saw you wear the jacket he has been searching high and low for the past fifteen minutes.

He had been wanting to see you in his clothes but the poor boy didn’t know how to say it without tripping and stumbling awkwardly over his words like a new born baby deer.

‘Hey, have you seen my jacket-‘ his words faltered and then later died on his lips when he raised his eyes as he entered his room, only to see you wearing the very jacket he had been searching high and low for. ‘You’re wearing it.’ His voice cracked and out of embarrassment Miles cleared his throat and tried again. ‘You’re- You’re wearing it.’

You smiled at him, finding his attempts in keeping his cool amusing, especially when it was doing something small like wearing his clothes but you couldn’t help yourself! The jacket was still somewhat warm from previous use and smelt like him, which brought you comfort for the days where he couldn’t always be with you as it felt as though you had a part of him always with you. Though it doesn’t compare to actually having Miles with you, it still brought you a sense of relief and security that you always get when with the young lad.

‘Did you want it back?’ You asked, about to take it off when Miles exclaimed ‘no!’ Making you both jump with how loud it came out but made you both laugh none the less. ‘I mean, no, keep it on as long as you want. You look great in it.’ Miles admits, running the back of his neck, highly aware of the heat radiating within of every part of his body, from the tips of his ears to his chest and even to his feet, as though it was going to burn him from the inside out.

‘Just great?’ You teased, brows raised.

‘Did I say great? I meant you look beautiful, handsome, pretty, beautiful, cosy, comfy.’ Miles rambled and you knew you had to intervene before he hurts himself, which lead you to walk towards him and hold his face in your hands, internally melting when his beautiful doe brown eyes looked into yours as though they’re the only thing grounding him right now. ‘Relax, I’m only teasing babe.’ You reassured him, thumbs stroking his cheeks as means of calming him down. ‘Now are you comfortable with me wearing your stuff because I can stop if you want.’

Just when you were about to pulls your hands away from his face so you could remove and hand back his jacket, Miles placed his hands over yours, keeping them glued to his face as he looked at you adoringly. ‘It doesn’t bother me at all.’ He tells you. ‘In fact it makes me really happy just seeing you in my stuff,’ he chuckles to himself. ‘I swear it feels as though I’m still dreaming sometimes.’ He finishes.

Miles loves it when you wear his clothes as it means that even when you were apart, you’re thinking about him, always and wishing for his safe return. He feels loved, extremely loved.

Pavitr’s day is immediately made a thousand times better when he notices that you’ve been wearing his clothes. He fucking adores it so much to the point that he’s already making plans on just letting you use his wardrobe at your disposal.

It doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad day because seeing you in his clothes even on days where he’s mentally, emotionally and physically okay, he’s automatically made even more chipper and happy to the point he will not shut up about his rant on how cute and adorable you look in his shirt.

He’s talking about a mile a minute that you were starting to get concerned when you saw he wasn’t stopping for breath. When he does remember to breath, you were able to realise the breath that you didn’t know that you had been withholding yourself.

Probably has a multitude of pictures of you wearing his clothes and might’ve made one his lock/Home Screen or maybe both, so that when he was doing his spider-man stuff, he’d be reminded that you were waiting for you Pav to come back safe and sound.

He will shamelessly scream it from the rooftops that you were wearing his clothes and say loud enough for all those within the radius to hear. He’s not ashamed in the slightest and will brag about it until he can’t no more. His friends, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Margo were often subjected to these bragging sessions more so then anyone else.

To the point where Hobie and Miles dog pile him in getting him to shut up about you wearing his clothes for a second. Yes they get it, it’s really cut that your wearing his clothes and how when you return them to him they smell like you’ve never left.

They get it, Pavitr is an absolute sucker for you in his shirts and whilst they found it cute themselves, pav didn’t need to get all dramatic with his long winded speech about how his clothes on you looked as though they were tailored to fit you like the did him, nor how he believes that was a sign for him that you two were meant to be together forever.

Overall Pavitr gets overwhelmingly affectionate when you wear his stuff to the point where your being smothered alive by his constrictive hugs and flurries of kisses raining down on your face. He loves, loves, loves seeing you in his clothes. It makes him happier then he’s ever been.

Hobie is the definition of ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.’

So let’s say you find his vest with the pins spanning across the lapels and the spikes that traversed across the shoulders, draped over the door and decided to wear it for a while until Hobie notices it’s absence.

Jokes on you though because Hobie never left anything of his without it being purely intentional and Hobie left his vest over at yours with the intention that you’d pick it up and wear it out of your own fruition, rather then having him telling you to wear it.

Outwardly his reaction upon seeing you wearing his vest is relatively neutral but that’s only to those on the outside but you could see the smile etching it’s way across his face along with the mischievous, all knowing glint within his eyes that told you all that you had willingly fallen right into his trap, just as he expected.

You’ve been had but you couldn’t be mad because it meant that Hobie had this in mind for a while and played the waiting game to execute his little plan. He wanted to see you in his clothes that he was willing to leave his beloved vest in your hands.

Hobie isn’t territorial but just seeing you in his clothes makes him feel all sorts of things but he just chalks it down to being a spider attribute he got from the bite and nothing else.

All this cheeky fuck would say to seeing you in his vest is; ‘guess I was right, it suits you.’ Which might as well have been his way of telling you that you were more then welcome to steal his clothes but just don’t be surprised when you start seeing some of your own stuff disappearing now and then.

Can’t find your crop top?

Hobie’s wearing it the next time you see him.

Needless to say Hobie loves it when you wear his stuff, so he’s going to do the exact same but with your clothes because he loves the expressions he gets when you ultimately realises who had been stealing your clothes for the past few days.

Miguel may act cool, calm and collected with a smidge of feral his heart isn’t immune from melting at the sight of you wearing his clothing.

It doesn’t even matter how long you’ve been doing it as it always made this secret softy feel as though it was the first time all over again.

Miguel is so occupied with his work to unhealthy extent that he doesn’t realise your wearing one of his shirts, and even when he does; it takes him a minute due to the lack of sleep affecting his ability to comprehend his reality before he’s doing a double take upon realising that yes, that was his shirt your wearing.

It’s cute watching his eyes nearly pop out of his head upon realisation.

‘Is that my shirt?’ He’d ask, although already knowing the answer. He’s not against it, he’s just surprised that you’d even want to wear anything of his. He doesn’t think he’s deserving of such a gesture but it touches his heart nonetheless.

‘I missed you.’ You replied, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. ‘You’re so busy with work that I don’t often get alone time with you anymore. So whenever your away and I’m missing you, I go through your closet and pick a shirt out, and wear it for the rest of the day because it makes me feel as though your here with me.’ You finished with a shrug.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt upon your admittance of missing him. He knows how often he prioritises his work that he was completely blindsided by how it affect you, so much so to the extent that you sought out comfort from his clothes because he was nowhere to be found.

‘You look at home in my clothes.’ He tells you as he decided then and there to cut out some time of his day just for you and be there for you like a lover should be. ‘And I’m sorry that I haven’t been here as much as I should but I promise that’ll change.’ Miguel practically pleads to you as he holds you against his muscular chest, his hands rubbing your back, secretly loving how his shirt looked on you more so then anything.

Seeing you wear his clothes became Miguel’s favourite sight to see first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He takes pride out of it but the reasoning behind it will always make him upset at himself at his failings of being a partner.

It’s something he’s improved on ever since and you couldn’t help but get giddy when you felt him walk up behind you in the mornings, burying his head into your neck, greeting it with kisses, as his arms enclose on your waist, speaking to you in his low raspy morning voice about how beautiful/ handsome/cute/pretty/stunning you looked to the point where you wanted nothing then to bury yourself into his chest so he couldn’t see the dopey, lovesick smile beaming across your face.

Miguel isn’t immune to seeing you wearing his clothes and he never will be because it’s a declaration of love in its own unique way.

Peter B would find you wearing his clothes unbearably adorable.

He just wanted to squeeze you tightly but knew that probably wasn’t the smartest idea considering with his strength but that never stopped him from taking photos of you doing mundane things in his shirt or sweatpants that you had to tie up by the drawstrings.

Peter has taken too many pictures that he might as well have dedicated an entire album to you wearing his sweats, shirts or even his pink bathrobe and doing mundane things such as making breakfast, watching your favourite shows on tv, playing with Mayday and the like.

So don’t be surprised when he starts showing anyone that would listen over at the spider society pictures of his lover looking absolutely gorgeous/handsome/pretty/beautiful/adorable in his clothes 24/7. Miguel especially but Jess, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie and Margo were also some that got pestered by Peter.

Peter B is also very vocal and would smother you praise of how good you look in his clothes because what he says is 100% genuine.

For example;

‘Look at you! You look amazing!’

‘You’re so cute in my clothes, please don’t stop wearing them.’

‘How could my lover look even better when they’re wearing my clothes. It shouldn’t be possible but here you are, proving me wrong.’

This corny bastard would teasingly call you a mini version of him since you want to wear his stuff so badly.

You’ve defiantly caught him admiring you from afar when you wear his clothes. His eyes are soft and half lidded as he rests his face against his hand, he wasn’t aware that he was leaning so much to the point that before long he was on the floor. It’s so cartoonish and goofy but it’s just so Peter that you can’t help but let out a little chuckle before going over to help your lover off of the floor.

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writtenbymoonflower · 3 months

Note

hiiii i love your poly!marauders and was wondering if you would do one with a reader who like has to sleep with a baby blanket and the boys don’t know until they finally convince them to sleep over and find out about it!! thank youuu!!

thanks for requesting! i hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: none

697 words

You held your breath as you turned out of James’ hold, wincing at the sound of sheets crinkling. Sitting up, you looked over at the sleeping boys next to you, making sure they were out cold before you slipped out of bed. You stealthily padded over to your overnight bag, rummaging through it until you felt the soft fleece you were looking for. You wadded the blanket up, holding it tight to your body as you made your way back to bed. Just as you were about to slide back in, self satisfied at your sneakiness, a gravelly voice cut into the silence.

“Y/N, love? What’re you doing?” Remus sat up from the opposite end of the bed, making Sirius whine and huff.

“Nothing, I was just getting water. Go back to sleep.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. James’ arm reached out, only being met with cold sheets. He flopped closer to the edge of the bed, grabbing at your thighs.

“C’mere,” He groaned. “I’m cold.”

“I am.” You whispered, thankful for the dark as you tucked the small blanket under your sleep shirt. Remus laid back down and you crawled in, setting your back to James’ front. Clearly, your plan was not very well thought through, because when James pulled you into him, he startled at the strange feeling.

“Sweetheart, what’ve you got under your shirt?” This made Sirius catapult himself up, sniffing out trouble.

“Um, nothing.” You wormed out of his grasp. Sirius reached over Remus’ to the side table, flicking the lamp on. Remus let out a pained groan, but Sirius just leaned over James to inspect you.

“Looks like something to me.” Sirius raised an eyebrow. You tried to hide the obvious bulge under your shirt, but it was no use. Sirius laid all the way over James, tugging your shirt up. You gave up, letting him grasp the small blanket. He looked a mix of entertained and confused, letting the other two boys see what he was holding.

“What’s this, dovey?” Remus looked over to you. You were hiding your face in your hands as Sirius went back to his spot, still staring at you.

“It’s a blanket or something.” James answered Sirius for you. “Why were you hiding this, darling?” James pulled your wrists away from your face.

“Because…” You hated this. “It’s embarrassing. No one our age has to sleep with a baby blanket.” James cooed and wrestled you back into his arms.

“I’m sorry, sweetness. I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.” Sirius said, softly.

“It’s okay.” You reassured.

“I’m sure lots of people sleep with blankets, honey.” Remus spoke up. “It’s not a bad thing. I’m, we're just upset that you thought you had to hide it from us ‘s all.” Remus’ voice trailed off sadly.

“Yeah, angel.” James grabbed the blanket from Srius, tucking it around you gently. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t think any of us mind.” You looked at the other boys for confirmation and they all nodded. You flushed, hiding your face under the pastel blanket. Sirius cooed in a way that made you wish the bed could swallow you up.

“Aw, sweet baby.” Sirius pouted. “Hand over the goods, Prongs. Let me and Moony have a turn.” James moved you like it was nothing, handing you over to Sirius to put you between him and Remus. You whined, all the attention being far too much.

“Poor thing,” Remus chuckled. “Gone all shy.” He stroked your head. He was being nice compared to Sirius, who tugged your blanket down, revealing your flamed features.

“You’re fucking precious.” Sirius pulled you closer to him. “Gimme your face.” He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him as he kissed all over your heated cheeks and nose. You squirmed under him, making Remus laugh and start kissing your forehead. Sirius wormed his fingers into your side, making you shriek.

“Okay, settle down.” Remus pulled away, stroking your head again.

“Can’t help it. They’re too cute.” He pouted, stopping his torment. He pressed a final kiss to your forehead, snuggling back into James. You clutched the blanket, snuggling safely into their warmth.

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we-are-so-close · 1 year

Text

Another Appetizer

Kageyama x reader --crack, fluff wc: 1.2k author's note: this is for @milky-fixx . Tati, you deserve to have pro-athlete Kageyama Tobio buy you your own appetizer every time you go on a date.

The sun hung directly overhead, the sky a pale blue with no sight of a cloud anywhere. The day was warm, but felt much hotter on the rooftop patio with no refreshing breeze to cut back on the heat. The umbrella that jutted up from the middle of the table provided shade, but rays of sunlight were still able to pierce through. While you were happy to finally be trying this new restaurant that had been on your radar for months, you were more ecstatic to be there with your friend and longtime crush, Kageyama Tobio. If he wasn’t away for volleyball, you certainly had some school duty you needed to fulfill. Regardless, you were glad that the two of you were finally able to hang out.

The more you stared at him, the more in thought he seemed to be. It was funny; you weren’t sure how someone could look like they were thinking about everything and nothing all at once. But sure enough, Kageyama never failed to surprise you. Trying to figure out what was going on up there was a mystery you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to solve fully.

“Kags. Kags…Tobio. Tobio. To-bi-ooOO. TOBI!” you stated with some force in your voice. The change in volume and pitch effectively pulled him back to the moment with you. He stared at you, a little lost.

“They brought the appetizer out.”

“Oh. Thanks,” he said as he took the whole pastry and popped it into his mouth.

“Tobio!” you whined.

“Whaght,” he mumbled, his face comparable to a chipmunk storing goodies in their cheeks.

“I really wanted to try that, too!”

“Oh,” he swallowed hard, every bit of food slowly making its way down his throat.

Quickly, he got up from his chair and towered over you. His eyes scanned your face and you stared right back at him. Without any warning, Kageyama’s lips pushed his way onto yours. You could feel yourself getting hot in the face. This was not how you imagined your first kiss with Kageyama going. For the first time today, you were grateful for being the only ones out on the patio. He slipped his tongue in rather forcefully, and it made you wonder if he’d done this before.

A brief moment later, he pulled away and sat back down in his seat.

“Did you get it?” he asked in a most serious tone.

“W-what?”

“The taste of the pastry.”

“Is that why you kissed me?!” A new heat rose within you.

“You said you wanted to taste it. So I thought since I just ate it, you might still be able to.”

“Kageyama, ew! I could just order another one!”

“Oh yeah, I guess you could have done that.”

A few moments of silence pass, the two of you staring off into different directions. The waiter finally came back out to check on the two of you.

“Can we get another order of this?” Kageyama pointed to the empty plate before the waiter had finished his formalities. The waiter simply smiled and said, “of course, sir,” before clearing the plate and leaving once again.

A few more minutes passed by and the silence was so awkward, even Kageyama took notice.

“How has work been, ____?”

“Same old, same old.”

“Any funny stories?”

“Nope.”

“That’s too bad. Your stories are always really good.”

A few more minutes go by before the waiter comes back out with the second round of the appetizer. Kageyama’s gaze was boring directly into your soul. He was going to make sure you ate it and enjoyed it. What he doesn’t realize is just how uncomfortable it’s actually making you.

“Is there something wrong with it? Why aren’t you eating it?” He asked with concern.

“I can’t eat it with you staring at me like that.”

He scrunched his face and tried to make himself smile a reassuring smile. You knew the smile. The smile that was more of a grimace or it looked like he was constipated. It was funny when he did it to other people. But now that he was doing it to you, it somehow wasn’t as funny.

“Is this better?”

“Um, could you just close your eyes for a minute, maybe?

He gave a little pout, but obliged. You stared at the food on the plate. You wanted to know what it tasted like, but you needed to know something more.

“Was that the only reason why you kissed me?”

“What?” His eyes flew open and immediately went back to analyzing your face. Tobio had never been the best at reading people, but he’d always been pretty good at understanding you. As best of a face you tried to put on, he could tell that something was up.

“I guess I just ate it without thinking, and then acted without thinking,” he shrugged sheepishly.

A sinking feeling sat in the pit of your stomach, but you let out a soft chuckle regardless. “Is your brain even in there today?”

He squeezed his eyes shut again, seemingly trying to stop himself from saying anything else. You took the time to finally savor a bite of this pastry you’d been eagerly wanting to try. As soon as you took a bite though, Kageyama scooched his chair out from the table and, once again, startled you with a kiss. He pulled away with a look of disgust.

“Uck, you have food in your mouth!”

After you were able to stop your coughing fit and prevent yourself from choking, you looked at that man as if he had three heads.

“Yeah, I had food in my mouth! Did you not see me take a bite?!”

“You told me to close my eyes!”

“Kageyama Tobio, you are going to be the death of me!”

He sat with his arms folded across his chest and pouted. A tinge of pink lingered across his cheeks.

The waiter awkwardly cleared his throat as he was standing there with both of your meals in his hands. How long he was standing there, you couldn’t be too sure. He quietly set the plates down and turned on his heel as fast as he could.

“This date is not going well,” Tobio finally spoke out.

“Date?”

“Yeah. I think it’s obvious I like you, dummy. You must like me, too, if you would wait months just to come try this place for the first time with me.”

This was the most sensible thing you think he’s ever said. You were in awe.

“Tobio, I-”

“I was hoping you’d want to be my girlfriend, but I have ruined that!” He threw his hands up, defeated.

“Tobio, I-”

“I think about you all of the time; I can’t get you out of my head. I want to know what it feels like to experience new things with you. I-”

Now you cut him off with a kiss. No food this time, only the lips of two goofballs who like each other.

“Tobio, I want that, too,” you said gently.

“Really?” The tinge of pink across his cheeks turned darker and covered most of his face.

“Really,” you paused. “But only if I can call you baby bird.”

“Baby bird?” He furrowed his brow.

“Think about it,” you said as you sat back down and began eating your meal, a smirk plastered on your face.

A second or two passed before your words finally clicked.

“____, gross!”

#kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama #kageyama x reader #haikyuu!!#crack fic #idk what else to label this haha

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hoodiewithhorns · 3 years

Text

━ using your safeword scenarios p.3 !★

genre : hurt/comfort smut.

characters : f! reader x sakusa, matsukawa, kenma

p.1 + p.2 + m.sterlist + requests

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw : not proof read, use of safeword, neglect , unprotected sex, degradation , clit spanking ( 1 ), impact play ( sakusas part ), mentions of exe(s), caught masturbation (reader) , pillow humping, thigh riding, implied punishment, kinda crybaby reader, implied cockwarming, cheating (?), angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

different safewords used this time <3

- ty to the anons and user @/please-take-me-to-the-moon for the scenarios <3

sakusa

word count : 1.4k

you knew better than to do this, humping your dearly beloved boyfriends pillow with just your cotton panties, a loose shirt with no bra under, like a bitch in heat, desperate for friction of any kind. You knew if he had caught you like this he would punish you that was guaranteed. however, in the literal heat of the moment you didn’t care. sakusa’s constant pattern of coming home the minute you were already fast asleep in your shared bed, never being able to fill the void of need in your little cunt.

〜　☆

Considering he’d let this slide since its been a month since you’ve two have done anything sexual, these thoughts only making you hump his pillow even more desperate leaving a pool of your arousal staining his pillow, with the occasional soft whimpers of his name. losing yourself in your own lust, You didn’t hear the sound of the door clicking open.

Sakusa, leaving his practice early since his performance was unfavorable by the shitty mood he was in, lashing out on his teammates for the smallest things they’d do and so many more. in short, his team suggested he’d stay home t’ill he cooled down.

“y/n? i’m home.”he walked around the empty apartment accompanied by the muffles of your soft moans, trying to find you as quickly as possible, obviously knowing it was you. he opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. his eyes grew wide at the scene in front of him.

still not noticing his presence in the door frame you continued humping his pillow feeling your high approach, but leave you since you needed him.

“tch.” clicking his tongue at you in disapproval. you flinched letting go of his pillow to face him, feeling your heart race when you made eye contact with him, arms folded and a look of disgust planted on his pale face. Your eyes already filling up with tears knowing what comes next. “m’ y-yoomi! w-welcome home-”

“who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself?” cutting you off, walking towards the bed, he pinned you down to the bed, arms on your sides, hovering over you with his dead, cold, heartless gaze cutting through you, as you tried to look away in shame only earning you a slap to the face to make you look at him. the sting causing you to choke out a sob. praying internally that he’d let you off the hook just this once. you were just needy for him.he has to understand that, right?

“answer me, right.now.”

“n-no one yoomi... i’m s-sorry please don’t wanna be punished!” you pleaded to him only making him more angrier. he grabbed your jaw making you whimper at the tight grip. scanning you top to bottom, eyeing at the wet patch on your underwear.

“then why did you huh? couldn’t wait until i got home couldn’t you? needy fucking thing.” he tutted, letting go of your jaw harshly, tugging your panties down to your knees already feeling impatient himself by how his cock hardened through his shorts. despite wanting to punish you, he wanted you. needed you to be precise.

the man hasn’t felt you in a whole month how could he not miss his girlfriends tight slutty cunt? removing his volleyball shorts letting his cock spring free, he strokes himself a few times before lining himself against your cunt, letting a small sigh when you felt his hard tip touch your soaked entrance.

feeling slightly relief you were finally gonna feel him after so long. That feeling of relief however didn’t last long when he slammed his fat cock inside you without warning. you let out a yelp, hands immediately going to his chest hoping for him to not bruise your cervix from how deep he was already. he growled when he felt your palms try and stop him, so he slapped your hands away roughly marking them red.

“b-but yoomi please it hurts..it h-hurts”

you figured he didn’t hear you. but he was too focused on punishing you to care if it hurt or not. so you pleaded again for him to slow down. finally getting a response from him.

“shut up you disgusting whore.you brought this on yourself, touching yourself while your boyfriends away.”

“...dirtying up his fucking pillow while he’s gone. how fucking pathetic.” he spits, slapping your clit harshly in attempt to get you to shut up. his degrading not having a hint of reassurance anywhere like it usually does when he fucks you. normally, he’d call you his “slut” or his whore but never ever calling you a disgusting one at most, what did this mean?..you asked yourself, mind going hazy with fear. feeling like your boyfriend finds you disgusting for your actions, and not a single trace of love or concern for you, not even noticing how you tried inching yourself away from his pace.

sakusa was a mean dom yes, but he cared about you and your boundaries and right now it seemed like he didn’t care about any of those.

too focused on his own pleasure, not realizing you slowly started to breakdown in front of him, hands to your eyes shaken from how hard he hit them, as more tears fell to stain your cheeks.

“n-no not disgusting..i-i’m...so sorry..sakusa..just missed you.” you muttered no longer feeling the long needed pleasure of his cock, only feeling a painful discomfort in your chest as if your heart was gonna burst out of it at any minute. he was caught off-guard by you calling him by his last name, but that didn’t stop the brutal pace on your sloppy cunt. repositioning his hand to your hips digging his nails in your sides, bound to leave marks to be seen in the morning.

“addressing me by my last name? what you think thats gonna make things better?”he muses, his pace speeding up making you whimper. you’ve just about had enough.

“germs! g-germs! no more, i don’t like this!! y-you’re hurting m-me sakusa... please s-stop..stop.” screaming your safeword, trying to get him off you, you pushed with the little strength in you with your fragile hands. it wasn’t enough but he got the message. blinking a few times to make sure he processed the current situation.

he sighed pulling his cock out watching you with wolf eyes as you softly cried to yourself, turning to your side. he didn’t say anything he just laid down beside you. sneaking an arm around your waist, face buried in your neck. he planted some soft kisses onto it trying to make you relax. if he was being brutally honest, he didn’t know what to do.

you never used your safeword and even if it didn’t show in his face, he was pretty frightened. watching you tense up and shake around him all because of him.

“ y-yoomi..im sorry-”

“don’t be.”

he rubs your hands with his thumb in slow but comforting circles, seeing its still red from being slapped away by him, along with him kissing your cheek to simmer down the sting from earlier. god he felt so bad, but was so scared at the same time, all he wanted to do was hold you close..

..and thats what he did, watching you curl up to his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes that felt like hours gone by. you looked up at him with the look you always gave him. Full of love and adoration even with puffy eyes and hurt in your chest you still loved him.

He looked down noticing the soft smile you gave him as if nothing happened. Titling his head in confusion he asks

“why are you smiling? aren’t you upset..at me?”

you shook your head at him, “no yoomi I’m not mad. My body kinda hurts yes, but I’m glad to have you home...i missed you so much I’m sorry i touched myself without permission...”

he lightly smiles at you kissing your lips softly.

“it’s okay. tomorrow we’ll have the day all to ourselves and we can do whatever you want my love. I’m sorry i was so mean... i was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

you paused leaning in closer to his chest as you mumbled.

“can we...take a bath together yoomi?”

“oh sure...here i’l carry you.”

needless to say, you forgave him and gave him one last kiss before going to bed.

kenma

word count : 886

kenmas work schedule was god awful since he was practically up to play games and just that leaving you feeling needy and neglected. you hated it.

but tonight you were just, so needy and couldn’t stand this constant neglect.

No matter how many times you touched yourself of grind against something it couldn’t compare to the way kenma would stuff you with his cock.

he wasn’t a super harsh dom leaning towards a mix of soft and mean, but he still prioritized your needs before his. and tonight you were gonna get that version of kenma.

walking towards the couch he was playing his games at slowly, with nothing but his hoodie and knee highs. you bit your lip standing in front of him, fiddling your thumbs out of nervousness. He titled his head to remove you from his line of sight to see the tv screen better making your heart ache just a little, being so used to it already.

taking a deep breath you sat in between on of his thighs wrapping your arms around his neck making him let out a groan of annoyance to your needy antics.

he continued to play his game acting as if you weren’t there and nothing changed. it all came to a halt when he felt you grinding on his thigh, letting out small cries of his name.

“baby.... please” you mumbled facing his disinterested face not even sharing a glance at you as he continued to move his thumbs around his controllers joystick. He didn’t even pay mind to the fact you were borderline naked either.

“five minutes pretty girl.” he muttered still too absorbed in his game. You pouted shifting your legs to be wrapped around him now, wet cunt on top of his crotch rubbing against him lightly. Making him flinch at the sudden friction. giving you hope he’d give you what you want now. you smirked continuing to grind against him making him bite back a grunt.

“ugh what are you doing?” he said clearly annoyed by your antics already.

your face became red while placing your hands on his shoulders slowly starting to grind against his growing bulge. “want your attention kenma please need you so bad.” you begged hoping he’d give you something anything really.

but being kenma, he went back to his video games. your pout returning once more. “but kenma, please i really really need you.” you continued with your antics and he paused his game, putting his controller on the coffee table.

“fine you want me so fucking bad?” he grabs you by the hips making you yelp as he throws you down the couch. back hitting the cushions while he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

he pulls down his sweats pumping himself a few times as he rolls his head back, holding back his grunts. he slowly slides his cock into you, being easy to do considering how wet you were already for him.

he groans as he bottoms out inside you starting steady, but slowly picking up the pace to be more..brutal.

“k-kenma..m’ feels good thank you thank you” you rambled out praises making him grab you by the throat to thrust into you faster.

“god you’re so fucking annoying bothering me because you wanted to get your cunt stuffed like a little slut while i fucking work.” he scoffs making your eyes shoot open at him.

“such a fucking annoying little slut.” he continues his degradation thr grip on your throat not loosening. you felt you eyes grow teary as he continued to call you more vulgar names with the sprinkle of him calling you annoying.

“ c-console...” you mumbled wrapping your hands on his wrists, making him let go of your throat. he froze getting closer to your face as he pulls out slowly.

“huh? Whats wrong does it hurt?” he asks rubbing away your tears with the pad of his thumb.

your lip quivered as more tears started to form. “...i-im annoying...?” you looked him in his eyes as more broken sobs leave you.

“I just wanted some attention kenma...you’re always so busy sometimes I don’t even think you remember i exist..” you muttered feeling small under his cat like stare.

he sighed kissing your cheek, falling to your. side feeling his breath hit your neck. “sorry baby i swear i didn’t mean it...you’re not annoying its my fault for not giving you attention.” he admits as you wrap around him.

“y-you promise you didn’t mean it?” you ask once more. he sneaks a hand under your head to lift you up to his chest, patting your head softly.

“ i promise. here why don’t you sit on my lap, we can do that thing you wanted to try last week...” he looks away embarrassed, you tilt your head in confusion but then realize what he was referring to. you nodded joyfully wrapping your arms around his neck, he adjusts himself for you to line up to take him. he slowly puts you back down on his cock. hissing at the returning feeling.

He smiled kissing your forehead lightly as he hugged you tight.

“better my love?”

“mhm mhm!” you said placing your head on his shoulder as you relax into him. slowly drifting away into sleep. its not much, but at-least it stuffs your very needy cunt.

matsukawa

word count : 615

what lead to this? you two were just on a simple date together at a nearby mall shopping together, looking at upcoming movies, stopping by a few manga stores and bakeries to treat yourselves. overall, just enjoying the time shared together.

that is t’ill the two of ran into your ex. issei watching the two of you talk to each other not realizing how uncomfortable you really were, hiding it with a friendly facade of course going unnoticed by him since he was practically death glaring your ex.

he was basically third wheeling in your conversation with your ex. you would side eye issei hoping he’d pull you out of your situation but it was too late since his mind was cloudy with jealousy and rage.

now, leading up to your current predicament. a heavy make-out now leading to a degradation fest.

“aw whats wrong little slut can’t take me, fucking pathetic much?” he teases pounding you at a faster pace. “can’t believe my own fucking girlfriend was just there being all friendly to her ex..what don’t tell me you still want him?” he muses making you rapidly shake your head.

“ no i don’t i swear issei..just wan’ you..”you muttered eyes growing puffy from how cruel he spoke to you as he continued to suggest away of how would get him back since it seemed like you missed him from how friendly you were acting.

growing quiet at his words trying to tune out his words. it’ll all be over soon anyways, you just had to hold on a bit you told yourself. of course you were an idiot for letting him keep going.

“ maybe i should go ask how kimi’s doing act all friendly and nice towards her.” you tuned into what issei had said in horror at what he just said.

kimi, his much prettier ex who t’ill this day wasn’t over him and he knew this. throwing it in your face as he darkly chuckled at you. you removed your arms that were wrapped around his neck pulling him close. and cupped your face in your hands at the thought of your boyfriend going back to his ex. leaving you alone again.

he wouldn’t right? even though she was much prettier in every feature she had compared to you. he wouldn’t right..? right?

“f-funeral...“you sniffled making him stop all his movements and lock eyes with you. your safeword ringing in his ears.

“hey..hey no i didn’t mean it...” he quickly pulls you towards him, pulling you out of him and hugging you tight. he rocks you softly back and forth in his embrace letting all your bottle up feelings burst onto him. he quick to comfort you and pepper a few kisses on your face.

“ issei..” you mumbled against his chest. he rubs your back looking down at you.

“yes baby..?” his voice shaken with worry hoping you weren’t too mad at him.

“ i-i don’t miss him.. i was only being nice..i was uncomfortable talking to him why didn't you..” he internally punches himself for being so blind and not being able to see by all your movements how uncomfortable you were just breathing the same air as your ex.

he was too blinded by his jealousy to realize his poor baby was scared. he mumbled a curse before apologizing.

“i’m sorry baby i didn’t realize he was making you uncomfortable i should've done something..” his eyes wander away from you.

“ i was just jealous..” he admits

“but issei.. you’re all i want.” you say kissing his cheek and he smiles gracefully.

“am i-i all you want sei?”

“ duh pretty baby. everything i want and need.”

matsukawas is so short i’m so sorry ahhhh but i hope u all enjoyed <3

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softlymellow · 3 years

Text

flaws -- B.B

pairing: Bucky Barnes x ! insecure reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: angst and talk about body image, insecurities and a persons flaws.

summary: reader compares herself to Natasha as she see’s her and Bucky getting close. She think’s he doesn’t have feelings for her due to her not being perfect and because of her flaws but Bucky reassures her it’s not.

note: i hope this imagine isn’t taken this wrong way as me trying to romanticise someones insecurities. if i did please dm me or let me know so i can help fix it!! i promise i wasn’t trying to make anyone feel bad or anything and EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN ALL SHAPES AND FORMS and everybody is insecure about something and that’s completely normal but you are loved and you are perfect and you don’t need a man ( or girl! ) to tell you that. hope you guys enjoyyy

You loved being the reason he smiled or laughed.

Not that he would do it often, his face masked from the trauma he experienced. But when you were the reason he was happy, it gave you almost a sense of pride, but it was taken away from you.

There she was, Natasha Romanoff.

Her incredible orange hair that sat on her shoulders was eye-catching, her glowing skin and her full scarlet lips complimented her appearance tremendously.

You couldn't blame her. She was everything you couldn't be and everything you should be. Yet, the lump that rested in the back of your throat was difficult to ignore as you watched Bucky and Natasha interact with each other. A genuine laugh arose from the male, yet you could only wish you were the reason he laughed.

It wasn't as if you weren't friends with him. Hell, it seemed like a lot more to you. Maybe only to you.

You pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, watching the pair chatter among each other near the dining table as you reside in the comfort of the couch across from them.

Steve sat beside you, busy fixating himself on his new cellphone and playing around with the features.

You drew small circles on your knee to comfort yourself, ignoring the voice that was calling out to you.

"Y/n!" Your head snapped to your right, looking at a semi-concerned Steve. "Almost lost you there," He chuckled while you rubbed your eyes, gaining your full attention.

"How do you change the ringtone?" He innocently asked, poking his phone.

"Just go to settings and search it up." You told him, relocating your gaze to the pair. Steve hummed as he did what you instructed him. You sat quietly before you began to chew on your fingernails, thinking of every possible explanation on why Bucky would choose Natasha over you.

It almost felt as if you were being toyed with, one minute you'd be two peas in a pod, often being teased as one of the only people Bucky began to get close to other than Steve. On the other, he'd be flaunting off to every girl he would see.

"You know you should stop staring before you make it obvious," Steve whispered next to you, jumping at the sudden break in thought and looking over to a smirking man.

"Steve," You hissed, glaring at him, "before making what obvious?" You innocently asked, attempting to cover up the embarrassment you felt.

Steve shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks flare-up, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Steve responded with a smug expression. You rolled your eyes jokingly before turning your attention to Bucky.

"You should give it a shot, yknow," Steve whispered.

You shook your head 'no', snapping your gaze to Steve, "Trust me," He said in a hushed tone. Looking back to Natasha, you couldn't help the sickening feeling as you watched the pair flirt with each other.

"What would he see in me that he wouldn't in Nat," You mumbled under your breath, not intending for Steve to hear.

"You wouldn't know," Steve cleared his throat, poking at his phone with a pleased look on his face. You tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Getting up from the couch, you had decided to leave to wallow in your sadness.

You made your way past the pair and you heard the silence that fell among them, their gaze darting holes in your back as you walked away from the room.

Ignoring the distant mumbling behind you, you made your way towards your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. You dropped on your bed as you felt a swarm of emotions hit you. Once mostly consisting of jealousy.

You took out your phone and headed straight to Instagram. You scrolled through for what could only be interpreted as hours before you paused on a single post that lied on your feed.

It was a picture of Natasha that was posted only a few hours ago. It was taken during Tony's infamous parties last night, one that you had skipped out on due to feeling ill. She sat on a red velvet couch, and she wore a skin-tight black dress that sparkled in the light. She held a drink to her mouth as her red straightened hair fell over her eye. You had noticed that Bucky liked the picture, and you felt the tears brim your eyes. Your grip holding the phone as if your life depended on it suddenly faltered as it fell beside your head, briefly missing your face.

Getting up towards the large mirror that was framed on the closet door, you noticed every imperfection on your figure. Your hands travelled to your shirt as you pulled it off your body, leaving you only in your bra and your negative thoughts.

Your eyes wandered to every flaw, the extra fat and skin on your stomach. The way your body wasn't the perfect hourglass figure. Your fingers traced over your stretch marks that lied on your hips, feeling the slight dent in your skin. Tears began to fall down your face. Your flabby arms and that your breasts wasn't the ideal type.

Sitting on the ground in front of your mirror, you hugged your legs tightly against your chest as you sobbed.

You couldn't fit the standards that were made. The more you looked and the more you scrolled, just end up bringing newfound insecurities. That was a problem you had faced many times during your life and you began to doubt yourself. You would rather be anybody else, feeling unfit in your own body, one that was especially for you. All you saw was what you should be. A happier person, a prettier girl, and a stronger Avenger.

You threw your shirt back on, making your way towards your bed. Lying your head down, you allowed yourself to think about nothing. Empty thoughts. Thoughts that had no meaning and brought you no use.

A knock on the door brought you back to your reality. Getting up, you brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks as you sniffed. Suddenly feeling exposed, you pulled your sleeves down to hide your arms before opening the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw a concerned Bucky waiting outside. His eyebrows furrowed upon seeing your puffy eyes and your red cheeks.

"Can I come in?" He politely asked, his eyes watching every move you made. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

You stood aside, allowing Bucky to slip into your room as you shut the door behind him.

You leaned against the door, your arms crossed against your chest as you waited for him to say something.

He sighed, not knowing where to start, his hands ruffling his hair. "Are you avoiding me?" He obliviously asked. You could almost laugh at how stupid of a question it was.

Your lips could only quiver as you attempted to respond to him. "What?"

"Doll, I don't know if I did something wrong, but you seemed pretty upset back there." He tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

You shook your head as you bit the insides of your mouth, "No, no, it was nothing." You muttered as you sat on your bed, staring at your palms.

"Doll, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He shot you a small smile.

"Do you like her?" You instantly regretted saying that, your insecurities creeping in again.

Bucky was taken back by the sudden question, his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"

"Natasha."

"What, no. Where'd you hear that from?" He enquired.

You looked up at Bucky, tears glossing over your vision. "I've seen the way you look at her, Buck."

"No, Y/n. I've never liked her."

"You don't have to lie for me. I mean, what's there not to like. She has the perfect body, face and hair and-" You were interrupted by his sudden grasp on your hands.

"And you don't have those things?"

"I-I don't." You whispered.

"That's a lie, and you know it." His firm voice alarmed you as if you somehow offended him.

You got up and kept strong eye contact with him. "What are you trying to say, Bucky? Have you seen me?" You scoffed and started to point and poke around your flaws.

"There's nothing wrong with your body, doll." He said in a calmer tone, realising you were insecure about your body image.

"Bucky, you can just stop faking it. Go back to Natasha." You muttered, sniffing as you looked down at your feet.

"I don't love Natasha, Y/n! I love you, doll. I always have." He confessed, slightly panting as he raised his voice.

You stood still, finding it difficult to believe in his words.

"I love you and every part of you." He took your hands in his and planted a small kiss onto your knuckles.

"Then what about-"

"Forget about her, doll. I tried to forget about you through her. Steve told me." He looked up to your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt the heat creep onto your face as you realised he knows your feelings towards himself.

"Do you really?" You asked, hope in your eyes.

He nodded, still holding your hand and planting small kisses. His kisses travelled up towards your arms as you felt a swarm of butterflies swarm your insides.

"I love your arms," he left a trail of kisses as he went further up.

"Your shoulders," he mumbled against your skin, a tingling sensation was left after every kiss as you felt yourself biting your lip in admiration.

He made his way towards your neck, loving the way you tensed under his touch. "Your neck," he kissed behind your ear as you bit back a moan.

You tilted your head, allowing him to move further, his lips moving alongside your jaw. He finally reached your lips and caught your gaze on his. His lips were mere inches apart from yours, you felt his breath fan over yours.

"Your lips," he whispered, his mouth slowly reaching yours as they gently kissed. Your lips dancing over his, enjoying the moment. His lips were soft against yours and he kissed you as if you were fragile, something to not be tampered with.

He slowly let go of you, his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you, doll. Don't doubt that and don't compare yourself to other women. You're equally if not more beautiful than them." He whispered, pecking you on the cheek.

"You'll realise your worth, Y/n." He kissed you on the forehead.

You felt better after Bucky had come found you that night. Your insecurities didn't go away, instead, you found them as someone else's treasure. And that made you feel better.

-----

a/n: man that last part has me embarrassed.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagines #james buchanan barnes #marvel imagines #marvel angst imagines #marvel angst #bucky barnes angst imagines #insecure reader #bucky x insecure reader #bucky imagines #bucky angst #bucky angst imagines #ur mum #i dont think i could ever write smut

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monpalace · 2 years

Text

don't talk to me this is to make up for the fact i've been stuck on the princess-like reader for a month anyways: soulmate au with the ace and deuce. jack, epel, and sebek will come soon.. maybe.. probably.. unlikely..

— maj

ACE TRAPPOLA — a unique number

thirty-six. thirty-freaking-six was he and his soulmate's unique number. thirty and six. a number no other person shared. a number so.. so.. simple! the same number of cards in the game that shared his name. nineteen forty-four could have been better than thirty-six.

a simple look online told him that thirty-six meant that he needed to focus on himself and his family rather than his professional life in angel number, but he'd like to think he had a healthy balance of both. maybe it was his soulmate who needed to do those things? another search said that he'd acquire a mass amount of riches and would rich at the expense of him spending less time with his family. he couldn't see that being himself either— aside from the money factor, that is.

thirty-six, while he and his soulmate's unique number, was still some stupid everyone used when they learned how to count to forty. it was stupid, ugly, and plastered onto the side of his neck for the rest of his life until he decided he wanted it to be magically removed.

his dad and brother had tried countless times to tell him his number was a blessing; even if the former's once scarlet-colored twenty-eight was now a charcoal black that scaled the skin of his cheek, often causing irritation around his right eye. the latter had much more luck when compared to his immediate family, he and his soulmate rubbing their love in ace's face, even if on accident.

yeah, ace's opinion on soulmates was solidified now.

he was very open about his view when it came to the issue of lovers. to many people were to loud and boisterous about the fact that they'd either already met theirs or they were bound to meet them soon.

even if he wasn't all to interested in finding a life-long romantic partner, a life-long friend was always better.

(he supposes that a soulmate could be both, but he didn't want his friend to be his soulmate, if that even made sense.)

"my bad," ace apologizes as he looks down at the student he bumped into, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he leans down to pick up the scattered papers. he ignores the flaring of his neck in favor of gathering the papers for the upcoming magift tournament, reading it over briefly before stuffing one in his pocket for the near future. "where're you headed? i might even take them all if you pay me well!"

at his teasing words and the heat the emanated from your heat and stomach, you couldn't help but feel your cheeks start to burn in both embarrassment and an emotion you can't place. "crowley's office. today's the last day for registration." you answer as he takes the pile you stacked in the nook of your elbow, rubbing the skin of your throat.

ace manages to compose himself before he can make a one-person reenactment of the event that took place just a moment before. "i'm sorry?" he gulps breathlessly.

"you don't need to worry!" you reassure the teen, having no issue noticing his despair. "you have until the end of the school day to sign yourself up!" you extend your hand only to stop just short of his shoulder, heartrate raising when you were just an inch until touching. you retract your hand, shooting it back to the nape of your neck.

ace hums to himself as he looks the flyer once more, feeling himself calm down in an odd way. "i guess i can be thankful i ran into you, huh?" he says, eyes skimming over the reward that listed a all-paid trip to the land of pyroxene with a plus one, all funded by crowley. he didn't doubt that the trip would be to one of the worst cities in the country considering that last bit of information. "maybe i'll take you with me since you helped me so much."

.. goddamn.. why was his mark burning so much?

DEUCE SPADE — an emotive color

deuce didn't enjoy being in the colorblind category when it came to soulmates. the only color he saw was red a good majority of the time. he wasn't sure if his soulmate was constantly feeling anger of passion and he didn't know if he was genuinely curious or dangerously concerned.

there were occasional times where he wondered if his other half saw the same color he did during his.. worst years.. did his soulmate see the same sky blue when he helped his grandma cook their family recipes? a stormy ocean blue whenever he heard his mother sob over his shortcomings?

deuce was never one to believe in soulmates. his mother had loved his father dearly— even if he was a deadbeat who left them not long after he was born. his grandma hadn't even been born with one. while he didn't know if his soulmate would be his romantic partner in the end, he did pray that they'd become good friends.

could his other half see when he got accepted into nrc? see when he received his award for being one of the fastest in track and field within the first week of arriving? how he felt when he managed to pass the first semester's set of final exams only see him turn saddened and mad when hundred of other students used the same methods as him?

he hoped that his soulmate couldn't.

deuce couldn't help but hug you once he and ace reached scarabia's sand, putting his track skills as soon as you were within his eyesight. all of his weight shifts to the back of his heels as he picks you up, spinning you both into a circle before putting you down and checking over your body.

"you're okay! you're okay, right?" he states and then asks, using his words more to calm himself down rather than to check on you. his eyes flicker to jamil before jumping back to you. "you're okay? he doesn't have you under his hypnosis or anything?"

you have to nod your head and place your hands on his shoulders to get his breathing to even out. he's only able to see you and a lemonade yellow, making him wonder what had happened to make his soulmate excited and amused. his other half won a competition, maybe? "i'm fine, deuce. i've made it through three overblots already, what's a fourth?"

you can't help but laugh at the look on deuce's face. a ginger color fills your eyes, the teen's embarrassment and worry becoming more and more evident the warmer the color became.

"come on!" he hisses, shrugging one of your hands off so he can itch at the skin beneath his chin. "i just wanted to make sure you were okay! you're not gonna put that past me?"

you lift your hands to hold onto his cheeks, offering the boy the softest smile. "i won't," you hum, his eyes filling with pink. "i'm thankful you cared."

deuce really, truly hoped that his supposed soulmate would be his lifelong partner. romantically or platonically.

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spencerreidscoffeecup · 3 years

Text

Inexperienced (sub!spencer)

Summary: Spencer and Reader just started dating and finally do somethin’ spicy!

AN: send me some requests!! i am working on some others atm too! and no, i didn’t really check this either! i am being very lazy rn lol. enjoy! <3

CW: heavy petting, grinding, making out, mommy kink, kissing, hickey-giving, oral sex (male-recieving), mention of bullies

Reader’s POV:

It was a whirlwind of kisses and rocking hips.

The poor thing was just so overwhelmed; his face flushed and his arousal growing by the second.

Small whimpers continuously escaped his pretty lips as they laced with mine, and I swallowed the sounds down with delight.

I had my hand wrapped around his throat, and my teeth were soon nipping gently at his ear as his hips rutted up (and I wasn’t even straddling him yet!), beautiful whines leaving the constraints of my hand around his throat.

Sure, he was overwhelmed, but he knew that if he said to stop, I would. However, that word never left his mouth.

At the age of 20 years old, he was kind of inexperienced--okay, very inexperienced compared to me; one year his senior.

But that was one of the many reason why I was so.. enthralled with him.

He was labeled as “The Campus Loser”, but from what I could tell, the people that called him that were the ones that were losers.

Spencer was just timid and shy and nervous.

And for some reason, when I went from dating the ass-hole face of the college quarterback, to dating the most kind boy ever.. People were surprised.

I mean, I don’t know why..Seriously, why would I want to date a dickbag that only got into college because of ‘daddy’s money’ rather than date someone so generous and genuinely brilliant as Spencer Reid. Not to mention absolutely adorable.

That’s why when I asked him if he wanted to come over to my dormroom after classes, he totally freaked out...but in the best way possible. We had been dating for a month, and the only thing that we had done in terms of ‘spice’ was makeout for a few minutes before Spencer would get too into it and jump off my body; excusing himself nervously to the bathroom.

My roommate was going to be out for the night, probably out at a club somewhere.

So when I asked him to come over, I couldn’t help but relish in how..hysterical he had become.

“M-Me?” he squeaked, clutching the strap of his satchel.

God, he was so cute.

I nodded, leaning over the library desk while he painfully tried to not look at my cleavage.

Sitting down at the corner of the table, I crossed my legs in front of me as his eyes bounced to the exposed skin of my thighs when my short skirt had rode up. He quickly looked away and back into my eyes.

“Of course you, silly,” I giggled, tracing my finger along his veiny hand that laid flat ontop of his desk as he gripped the wood of the table.

I knew Spencer wasn’t fond of touch, but he seemed to always lean into mine.

I combed some of his hair back as he gulped, kind of nuzzling into the palm of my hand as I ran my fingers through his slick hair.

“Please, baby? I missed you. I feel like I’ve barely been able to see you.” I pouted slightly, smoothing the wrinkles of the collar of his yellow and white short-sleeve dress shirt.

Spencer sputtered, “Y-you just saw me today,”

I smiled softly. “You don’t have to come over if-”

I was quickly cut off.

“N-No!” he lowered his voice when he caught glares from students studying around him. “N-no, of--of course I would like to come over.”

And that was that.

We started making out on my bed, teeth clashing and passionate, soft moans omitting from the both of us to create such a lewd symphony.

Spencer never tried to pull away from my touch as our tongues danced upon one another. My whole body felt tingly and sensitive as he held me close to him--his hands on my back and roaming from my waist to the back of my head.

He was blushing hard.. And something else hard.. and it wasn’t just the rosy blush dusted on his cheeks.

I kissed down his neck and he let small moans out as I sucked on the skin.

My room was dimly lit, soft music playing in the background.

Spencer’s fingers waltzed on my body, and I ground harder down on him.

He was so beautiful, and eager to learn..and ready to please me in anyway he could.

He grabbed my hips as though he wanted me ontop of him, so I straddled his thighs. Spencer’s breath caught in his throat with a loud squeak. Our lips stayed melded together under the heat of the moment, and I whimpered into his mouth.

His large hands cupped my face to keep me as close as possible. My pussy was throbbing. I couldn’t stop from grinding on his thigh, moaning softly.

“Spence,” he hummed in response, unable to form a coherent sentence.

I pulled away, only slightly. Running my hand down from his hair and to his hardened crotch, Spencer gasped.

“O—oh—“ he stuttered.

“Is this okay?”

“mmm, mhm,” he nodded-- quickly, desperately.

That confirmation was all I needed to add more pressure to his tented slacks, coaxing him through the many sounds he made as he bucked his hips. I created circular motions with my hips on his hard thigh, giving my clit the most delicious amount of pleasure. He gasped loudly, holding his breath before releasing a trembling mewl.

“Does it feel good, love?” I whispered, one hand holding his face gently.

Spencer whined at the nickname.

“Y-yeah, I—it feels good,” he spoke quietly, in fear of his voice crackling. He blushed almost instantly after he said his praise, and so I pressed harder against his thigh as he watched me with half-lidded eyes and red lips. I quickly lost myself in the friction that procured between the two of us, stroking him through his pants.

“Spence,” I whined, my voice high.

Spencer couldn’t respond, only pulling me in for a long kiss.

It wasn’t long until he was teetering off of the edge. Between the softness of my kisses, and the tender moans that echoed in his ear, the realization that I was getting off on top of him, and my palm working him closer to his finish.. it wasn’t long at all.

I took in the image of him for later nights when I was missing him.

His body was tensed up, his eyes crossed behind his cute little glasses and his mouth slightly agape. The escalating groans and whimpers and whines that flew from his lips were uncontrollable, and I came. My body shuddered as I stroked myself against his thigh, continuing to stroke him as well.

I took a mental picture of him in front of him.

His body began to weaken when he finally came.

And boy, was it a sight to see.

He hunched over in a spasm, a crackly soft moan omitting from his slightly agape mouth as he pressed up against me, his glasses smooshing against my chest.

Spencer collapsed ontop of me, grunting and moaning and falling apart beneath my hand as I kissed him gently.

He was just so helpless in the moment as he clung to my body, his mouth stilll agape and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He shuddered, whimpering as I brushed my fingers through his hair, his hands clinging onto my body as he laid his head on my chest.

After a moment of him calming down, he repeatedly thanked me, kissing me softly.

He looked up at me through his doe-eyes and I practically melted beneath him.

“I-I---Oh gosh- I didn’t mean to d-do it in my pants I-I just-”

I shushed him, holding him close and kissing his lips.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” I asked, and I could tell that he knew what I meant once he saw the twinkle in my eye.

“Y-You don’t need to or anything-”

I kissed him to shut him up. I loved when he talked, but I hated that he doubted himself..or the fact that I wanted to give him more pleasure.

“I want to so bad--but only if you want to.” I reassured him, and that seemed to do it as he nodded fervently.

I kissed down his neck and chest, sucking on his soft skin.

“Please,” he begged softly as I pulled him over to the edge of the bed, getting on my knees in front of him.

I smirked, pulling his splotched pants down to his knees along with his boxers.

He was just so so beautiful.

The tip of his throbbing cock was dripping with some come and pre-come.

It twitched right as I took it in my hand.

“You’re so pretty, Spence,” I looked up at him through my eyelashes, and Spencer’s eyes were swimming with lust as he bit down on his bottom lip.

“Th-thank you, mommy.” he whimpered. The risk was calculated but correct.

I moaned as I kissed his inner thigh, beginning to jerk him off with my hand as I massaged his balls with my other hand.

I kissed up his length as he groaned, trying his absolute best not to thrust into me.

“P-Please,” he begged again, his hands in fists by his side. “It’s so sore, mommy. S-so sore an’ irritated an’--”

I took him in my mouth, and he groaned loudly.

I gently slapped his thigh as to remind him that there were other people in the building too.

I bobbed my head up and down on his hard dick, the erection definitely aching.

He gently held my head, only to feel that this was real and not to guide me or push me down deeper on him.

Once he hit the back of my throat, he was cumming in a matter of seconds.

I swallowed his seed, happily surprised by how fast he came.

I knew that he would be embarrassed, but he seemed much too tired for that.

He pulled me to him, sitting me back on the bed and getting on his knees in front of me.

“H-here.” he stammered after our multitude of kisses.

Taking his shirt off, he used it to wipe my chin that was covered in his release and my spit.

I smiled, pulling him down to me once he was finished.

He cuddled up close to me, and kissed his face as he smiled through a dark blush that coated his cheeks.

“M’tired,” he yawned, and I kissed the button of his nose.

“Sucha sleepy baby, hm?” I hummed, kissing him. He puckered his lips away, his eyes closed gently, urging me to kiss him again.

He hummed a soft yes, peppering my lips with kisses.

“Oh wait- I forgot to make you finish again,” he sat up quickly, but I just shushed him, pulling him back down by his shoulders.

“Shh, no baby, let’s go to sleep.. m’kay?”

Spencer snuggled up closer to me, holding onto my body tightly.

“Bu-but I wanted to--”

I kissed his forehead as he snuggled in closer to my chest.

“You’ve done so much already, my love.”

Spencer tried protesting, but soon fell into a sleep.

I smiled, my heart skipping happily in my chest as we held each other the rest of the night.

#subspencer #sub!spencer #subspencerreid #sub!spencerreid #spencerreid #drspencerreid #criminalminds #spencerreidxreader #spencerreidxreaderfanfic #season2spencerreid #fanfiction #criminalmindsspencerreidfanfiction

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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

Ummmmmm can i please request 5

This was written all on my phone waiting for my train and I’m trying to post it through my phone which tumblr is being a lil bitch about but here is

5. Falling Pregnant After A One Night Stand (3.6k)

(squick: a/b/o dynamics, mpreg)(two tags I never thought I’d write lmao)

Anakin’s working on the couch when he hears the key in the lock of the apartment door, signaling that finally—finally—Obi-Wan’s home from his week-long hastily planned stay at Bail’s place.

Bail and Breha’s place, Anakin reminds himself. Obi-Wan’s mated friends pose no competition to Anakin’s inner alpha, which definitely thinks of Obi-Wan as his omega.

Obi-Wan comes into the main room quietly, putting his bag on one of the barstools and leaning against the counter for a second, head bowed.

When he lets out a sigh and a heavy curse, Anakin can’t stop himself from speaking up, alarmed. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Obi-Wan jolts and turns around to face the couch, clearly startled. “Anakin!” he yelps, one hand flying to his stomach and the other to grip the counter behind him, as if Anakin is an intruder, and not the man he’s been living with for six years. “I thought you’d be at work!”

Anakin fights the urge to flush. The truth is, he’s tried to go into work for the past three days, but Obi-Wan’s absense has kicked his alpha hindbrain into a special kind of panic mode, where he can’t stand to leave the den until the omega returns to it safely.

It’s not like Anakin’s going to say that though, not after five years of pining for the older omega from afar. He’s a pro at this by now.

“Working from home today,” Anakin says. And then so Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s spent his entire week alone on the couch waiting to be not alone anymore (he has), he lies, “Woke up hungover.”

“On a Thursday?” Obi-Wan says, sounding a bit concerned.

Anakin purses his lips and tries not to pout. He rakes his eyes over the omega, taking in his messed up hair and untrimmed beard and the dark circles that have popped up beneath his eyes. “You didn’t answer, Obi-Wan,” he accuses. “What’s wrong?”

The omega’s scent tinges with distress, which only proves Anakin’s point further. Obi-Wan never lets his scent leak through his blockers, not if he can help it. Anakin’s always made sure to luxuriate in his unbridled scent when he can, one that smells like maple and rain and cinnamon. But to smell it now just makes him feel more worried.

“Are you going into—“ Anakin stutters over the word heat. Obi-Wan’s at least feeling well enough to roll his eyes fondly. The older omega thinks Anakin’s one of those alphas that get wildly uncomfortable talking about an omega’s heat. It’s not true. Anakin’s helped friends through heats both platonically and sexually. Look, he’s run to the corner bodega at two in the morning to get Padmé heating pads to be left outside her door. He’s no stranger to heats.

But the idea of his prim and proper roommate writhing around in his nest, begging for something to fill him up the way he needs—that makes Anakin stutter and blush and trip over his words.

“No,” Obi-Wan says, but there’s something off in his tone, something sour in his scent. Anakin puts his laptop aside—the screen’s gone dark already anyway—and makes to stand, his inner alpha baying with the need to run his hands over the omega, to make sure he’s not bleeding or hurt or injured—

“I—I’m going to unpack and take a shower,” Obi-Wan decides, pushing away from the counter and closer to the couch. Not close enough. But closer. “And then I need to talk to you about something.”

“Are you…” Anakin casts around for the right word to say. Ill. Leaving me. Sick. Sick of me. Done with all of this. Dying.

Obi-Wan pauses and gives him his own sort of once-over. Whatever he finds in either his body language or his scent brings a soft smile to the omega’s face. “I’m fine, dear one. I—I need a shower. I don’t—smell right.”

Anakin blinks after him, hands balling into fists and relaxing as he processes those words. Usually it’s Anakin who wants Obi-Wan to shower off the stench of other alphas after his business trips or stays at his friends’ places. Obi-Wan’s always insisted he smells fine, but he’ll cave if Anakin’s mood gets bad enough.

It’s not something he’s especially proud of, but it’s worth it when Obi-Wan curls up onto the couch beside Anakin and he smells only like the shampoo and soap they share.

Sometimes if he’s tired enough, he’ll even let Anakin scent mark him so that next time he goes out, everyone will automatically assume he’s already in possession of an alpha and not looking for anything.

Sometimes, he even asks for it. Those times are the best.

Anakin tries to sit still while he waits for Obi-Wan to come back, but it’s impossible. He moves to the table, then to the kitchen counter, then back to the couch. Where should he sit, where would be a place he feels safe enough to receive whatever news Obi-Wan’s putting off telling him?

In the omega’s arms in his own bed, is the answer that comes to mind. But can he really ask that of Obi-Wan? They’ve done it before, when Anakin’s mother had died, when Ahsoka had left the city to get a degree abroad, when Anakin feels as though he’s going to shake apart if he doesn’t hold onto his omega and make sure that he at least can’t leave him too.

When Obi-Wan comes out of his room, all flushed from the shower with his hair still damp and messy, wearing a blue sweater Anakin’s pretty sure used to be his and a pair of sweatpants that are definitely currently his, there’s hardly a choice to make. If Obi-Wan wants to wear his scent, Anakin will give it to him.

Silently he takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom, toeing out of his shoes and tugging him into his bed and into his arms.

Obi-Wan goes so easily that it only makes Anakin more worried. His heart cannot take this level of stress and he has to hide his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and inhales greedily at the pure scent of omega—Obi-Wan omega—his omega.

“Obi-Wan,” he says nonsensically, just to feel the way the omega in his arms shudders at the sensation of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

But then Obi-Wan doesn’t stop shaking and Anakin can feel a growing wetness against his shirt. He can’t stop the distressed rumble that comes out of his throat, but he bites his tongue just in time to stop the alpha command to tell him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t like that and Anakin wouldn’t like doing it.

His hands stroke soothingly over the omega’s back as he starts purring from within his chest. An alpha’s purr is supposed to reassure an omega, make them feel safe and protected, but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to realize this because he doesn’t stop crying.

“Talk to me,” Anakin murmurs nosing at the short hairs behind Obi-Wan’s ears. “Baby. Obi. Omega. What is wrong? What can I do?”

Obi-Wan wipes his eyes dry on Anakin’s shirt and looks up at him with a heartbroken but strangely resigned expression. Like he already knows what Anakin’s going to do, and he thinks nothing he says will change anything.

As if.

When Obi-Wan went on a two month long business trip three years ago, Anakin grew out a beard and it only took one look from the omega upon his return before Anakin was shaving it off. The point is, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to speak half the time for Anakin to agree. He’s just that in love. It’s pathetic. He can’t remember who he was before it.

“I’m a mess, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan finally gets out, retracting one of his hands from the tight grip he has on Anakin’s shirt to rub at his eye. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this, but. I don’t—it’s—“

“Hey, hey,” Anakin soothes, leaning back a bit so he can knock their foreheads together. Packmates do that all the time. “It’s okay.”

Obi-Wan nods slowly, and his scent expands with the pleasant notes of a comforted, protected omega.

“Do you remember…when I went to Seattle at the end of August for that conference?” he starts slowly.

Anakin hums in acknowledgement. He’d wanted to go with Obi-Wan, instincts demanding that the other side of the country was too far for the omega to travel alone, but he’d not been able to get time off of work.

His heart drops into his stomach at the idea that somehow maybe Obi-Wan met someone there during his four-day trip, and he’s in love with them and is trying to find a way to tell Anakin he’s moving.

Would it be pathetic if Anakin followed him? Would Obi-Wan’s new alpha allow Anakin to live with Obi-Wan still? Would Obi-Wan’s alpha be amenable to telling Anakin how he made Obi-Wan fall in love with him in a matter of days when Anakin’s been trying to get the man to love him romantically for six years?

Anakin’s heart rate is up, but it’s nothing compared to the staccato beat of Obi-Wan’s. He tries to send out more calming pheromones, but he can’t even find them for himself.

This is it. He’s about to lose Obi-Wan. The alpha inside of him whimpers, and it takes all of his willpower not to crush his omega tighter to his chest.

No. Not his.

“I met a man there, just at the hotel,” Obi-Wan says. It would have been kinder if he’d just stabbed Anakin with the kitchen knife. There’s no relief to be found in this slow death. Because—because surely, Anakin will die without Obi-Wan. Not physically, of course. He’s not one of those alphas who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

Actually, it’s Anakin that cooks most of the time for both of them. And Anakin will do the shopping, will keep an eye on the amount of cleaning supplies they have, how much toilet paper, how many garbage bags.

But what would be the point of cooking anything if Obi-Wan isn’t there to taste it and shower him with praise? What’s the point of cleaning the apartment if Obi-Wan isn’t there to tuck himself into his arms on the couch and thank him for the work? What’s the point of anything if he’s doing it without Obi-Wan?

“Anakin, I—“ Obi-Wan stutters and falls silent. Anakin braces himself for the end he should have seen coming. “I’m pregnant.”

White noise. Anakin doesn't even think he’s breathing. Obi-Wan is pregnant. Obi-Wan…had a one-night stand in a city 2,400 miles away from Anakin, and he’s pregnant. Someone touched Obi-Wan, someone made Obi-Wan come, someone got Obi-Wan pregnant, and maybe…maybe there’s a chance they’ll get to keep Obi-Wan too.

The alpha in his chest howls at the thought. The idea that—that someone else will have a better claim on Obi-Wan’s heart. What’s six years of living together compared to a child?

Except Obi-Wan presses further into his chest, with a shaky whine. The omega is here now, not with any other alpha, not in any other city. He’s in Anakin’s bed, in Anakin’s arms.

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, how to speak. He needs to know so much more. He needs to know what Obi-Wan is going to do, if he’s in contact with the father, if he’s planning to move, if he’s planning to raise the—

As if he can hear his thoughts, Obi-Wan starts talking again, very fast as if he’s afraid Anakin’s going to kick him out in a few minutes and he needs to get the whole story out before he does.

“I’m keeping it. Them. I—I’m so old now—“ he’s barely 38– “I’m afraid this could be my only chance at…at a family.”

Anakin closes his eyes and hides his face in the still-damp strands of Obi-Wan’s hair. He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to see how devastated he is at this response. Anakin’s family is Obi-Wan. He’d thought…he’d wanted….

“I understand if you want to move out before the lease ends,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but his hands clench tightly around Anakin’s back. “I know…a baby…another alpha’s baby…you shouldn’t have to take care of them. I know it’s not what you signed up for, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hold it against you.” His voice gets smaller and smaller until Anakin has to strain to hear him. “I can do this alone.”

He sounds as if he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling Anakin. But Anakin can’t even focus on that because his entire attention is caught by everything else Obi-Wan’s just said. Because it sounds…it sounds as if Obi-Wan is planning to stay in the city. In the apartment. Without the sire.

Alone.

As if Anakin would ever let Obi-Wan be alone, given the choice. As if Anakin would ever leave Obi-Wan to struggle through any difficulty without him.

Obi-Wan presses impossibly closer to him. “Say something,” he demands, running his nose up and down Anakin’s neck, over his scent glands, as if he expects Anakin to be able to form whole, coherent sentences when he’s doing that with his mouth.

The pregnancy must be messing with Obi-Wan’s instincts and emotions, Anakin realizes distantly. His body must know he’s not mated, that he’s about to be a visibly pregnant, unmated Omega in a dangerous city. No wonder he’s trying to cover himself so completely in Anakin’s scent. He has to wonder if Obi-Wan even understands what he’s doing. He’s never been one to try and he in touch with his Omegan side.

“Alpha,” Obi-Wan pleads, and Anakin has a second realization that it’s been ages since he’s said something. The room fills with the scent of distressed, in pain omega.

Anakin lets out an involuntary purr and tightens his hold on Obi-Wan’s body. It would be nice to look him in the eyes, but he thinks they both need as little distance between themselves as possible. “You’re going to make a great parent,” he soothes, nuzzling along Obi-Wan’s hairline. “And I’m not going to leave you unless you want me to.”

Obi-Wan stills completely as if shocked to his bones, and then he relaxes bonelessly into Anakin’s arms. This time, Anakin feels the tears as soon as they start and he goes about stroking up and down Obi-Wan’s spine again.

“I was so afraid,” Obi-Wan admits between sobs. Anakin thinks to himself privately that he definitely knows how that feels, but one of them shouldn’t be crying. “I didn’t know how to tell you—I didn’t want you to hate me for making such a stupid mistake—“

There’s nothing Obi-Wan could do to make him hate him. Sure, Anakin’s absolutely filled with hatred for whoever caught Obi-Wan’s eye on that business trip, but none of those emotions bleed over into what he feels for Obi-Wan. Not when his love is too strong and entrenched.

“Bail said you’d understand but I’m just—a mess, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and these goddamn hormones are making me feel out of control—“ Obi-Wan continues. The fact that Bail fucking Organa found out about Obi-Wan’s pregnancy before Anakin did will drive him crazy if he lets it, so he puts that aside for now and focuses on comforting his omega.

“We’ll figure it out,” Anakin says, scenting Obi-Wan back. “It’ll be alright.”

————

A few hours later, Obi-Wan awakens from the nap he’s fallen into with a start. Anakin’s gotten no sleep, too busy drawing nonsense lines on Obi-Wan’s back and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the future. About what’s going to happen to them, around them.

No matter how much he hates the sire of the child in Obi-Wan, he already feels attached to the baby. It’s part of Obi-Wan. Maybe they’ll have his hair color or his eyes. Maybe they’ll have his compassion, his wit. Maybe they’ll let Anakin teach them how to play soccer or swim or cook.

The possibilities are endless and all of them involve Obi-Wan falling in love with him because of how amazing of a father he is to his child.

It’s not the most pressing thought in his mind, but he has to admit at least to himself that it’s there. That he’s just as in love with Obi-Wan as he was when he woke up in the morning. Now he just has another part of Obi-Wan to love: his child.

Maybe their child.

“I need to tell him,” Obi-Wan mumbles from his spot laying across Anakin’s chest. “I don’t—I don’t particularly want his involvement or, or money, but he should know. He should have the option to be in his child’s life.”

The part of Anakin who has just spent the past three hours getting used to the idea of raising Obi-Wan’s child as if he’s his own bristles at the idea of the sire being involved at all.

“Do you have his number?” Anakin asks reluctantly. He can’t imagine getting to sleep with someone as gorgeous as Obi-Wan and not trying to give him a means of keeping in contact.

But Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“His address?”

Another negative. “I…know his name and where he works.”

Anakin bares his teeth at the ceiling. “And?”

Obi-wan sounds more than a bit embarrassed. “Ah. He was the bartender at the hotel. And his name tag said Set.”

“You went to a medical conference full of alpha surgeons and researchers and you…slept with the bartender,” Anakin says blankly, before he can stop himself.

Obi-Wan huffs. It’s the most Obi-Wan response he’s given since he got home from Bail’s. “Sorry my one-night stands don’t meet your standards.”

Anakin hums. The truth is the only person who will ever meet his standards as a romantic partner for Obi-Wan is Anakin. “So what do you want to do? Call the hotel and ask for Set?”

Which, by the way, is the most pretentiously Seattle name he’s ever heard of. Set’s given name is probably, like, David and he just wanted to sound cool and grunge.

“I can’t just—this isn’t something I can say over the phone, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He falls silent.

“It’s mid-November,” Anakin points out. “Neither of us are hurting for money, but plane tickets are going to be astronomical until January at least. If they’re available at all.”

There’d be shitty seats available, of course, but Anakin’s not going to let his pregnant omega cram himself into an uncomfortable, smelly seat for eight hours.

“You don’t—I don’t expect you to come with me,” Obi-Wan mumbles into Anakin’s collarbone.

Anakin just manages to bite back a scoff and the urge to point out that last time Obi-Wan went off to Seattle without him, he got pregnant. Who knows what would happen if he does it again?

“Well, I’m gonna,” he says firmly. “But I think we should drive. It’ll take longer, but I’d feel much better about what you’re exposed to, not to mention how much more comfortable my car is than a coach seat. We can share a motel bed to cut costs, and—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Obi-Wan picks himself up off his chest to stare at him quizzically. “What if your job won’t let you take the days off? They didn’t even let you leave for the original Seattle trip and that was only a few days. We’re talking weeks here, Ani.”

Anakin sets his face into a scowl. He’s worked at the same finance firm since moving to New York, but if they won’t let him take time off for this, for Obi-Wan, he’ll quit. Simple as that. “Then I’ll go anyway and they can fire me.”

Predictably, Obi-Wan has several protests. Anakin will hear none of them. If he is fired, if he can’t find another finance job in the city that makes the same amount of money, then they’ll move out to somewhere else. He’s heard good things about Denver. And if Obi-Wan doesn’t want to move that far, maybe they can move upstate. It’ll be easier to raise a kid outside of the city anyway.

He’s not dumb enough to tell Obi-Wan this, knowing it makes him sound literally insane, but he is just stupid enough to cut Obi-Wan off and say, “you’re the most important person in my life, Obi-Wan. You….you both are.”

Hesitantly he moves his hand down to rest it gently over the slightest swell of Obi-Wan’s tummy. The omega’s breath catches in his throat, but he lets him touch.

“I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way if you’ll have me,” Anakin adds, stroking his thumb over the impossibly soft skin. Pregnant. Obi-Wan is pregnant.

It’ll take a few days more to get completely used to that idea, that’s for sure.

Obi-Wan studies his face with eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from all that crying a few hours ago. Slowly he raises his own hand to Anakin’s neck and rubs up and down his scent gland with something almost like longing in his expression. They’re so close together. Anakin would let him have anything—everything.

Everything.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agrees with an air of strained incredulity in his voice , placing his other hand over Anakin’s on top of his abdomen. “Yes. Let’s drive to Seattle so I can tell my one-night stand that I’m carrying his child.”

Anakin nods and adds privately in his head, And so I can tell him that that kid’s gonna be mine in everything but blood and he better stay on his side of the goddamn country.

He’s not losing his family to some stupid Seattle alpha.

#asks #prompt fill #I could definitely see 2 more parts of this #part 2 the road trip #part 3 the get together where anakin meets set and is very surprised when they look identical #this was so fun and cute to write that’s why it’s 3.6k btw #squick tag: a/b/o #squick tag: mpreg #stuck between calling this the roadtrip au or the baby daddy au #baby daddy vs found father showdown fight to death au #anakin would 😌❤️#anyway this was supposed to have a lot more italics but they didn’t copy from the Google doc so when I finally get home I’ll add them #obikin #omega obi-wan kenobi #alpha anakin skywalker #roadtrip au

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Note

Mayhaps a wild take : Geralt folds the corners of his precious, centuries old, valuable beyond compare, bestiaries. Jaskier sees and loses his marbles. ( Then gifts geralt a book mark with pressed.. somehow familiar flowers... 👀 )

Hi, hello... So... I got carried away? This is 2.1k? I hope you like it!

CW: mentions of injury (on Jaskier)

________

Monsters mutate. They adapt, change, grow. Geralt was clearly a very skilled witcher with decades of experience, and Jaskier never grew bored of watching him fight, on the rare occasions he was actually allowed to watch that is. Most of the time, he had to make do with second-hand stories told by Geralt himself, which just wasn’t the same. But, sometimes, just sometimes, Geralt would deem the contract safe enough for Jaskier to trail along with a silver dagger gripped in his hands, and sometimes... Geralt got it wrong.

Jaskier was poking at his bandaged thigh where the drowner had bitten him, already beginning to stain red as the blood oozed from the wound. It hadn’t needed stitches but it still stung. The fight, however, oh the fight had been surprisingly spectacular. It was a small drowner nest just outside of town, attacking nearby fisherman along the beach, nothing that Jaskier hadn’t seen before and certainly not ballad worthy, but he’d tagged along regardless. He never wanted to pass up the opportunity to see Geralt in action. The witcher was just so beautiful, dancing with his sword in hand, all grace and elegance and fury. Jaskier was entranced every time. It was truly a miracle he didn’t get hurt more often.

The drowners had been fast, faster than they should have been, and now Geralt was muttering about mutations and skin pigments as he scratched words into a worn out copy of a bestiary. The witcher has borrowed one of Jaskier’s least expensive ink sets to update the centuries old book. It broke Jaskier’s heart to see such a beautiful book treated so poorly but he understood that it needed updating to keep his witcher safe.

The poor book though.

Academics at Oxenfurt would kill to get their hands on it. It would have been treated with the utmost respect, kept away from the grubby hands of the first and second years, only allowed out for special projects, and here was Geralt, covering it in his appalling handwriting, bloody fingerprints and dirt smudges in the margins.

“Oh bollocks,” Jaskier hissed as he jabbed at the bandages a little too hard, his restless energy getting the better of him. The witcher always told him off for picking and scratching at his bandages and scabs, but he couldn’t help it. They were just so scratchable, and the itching drove him mad!

Geralt sighed, glancing up at Jaskier with an exasperated expression. He took one look at Jaskier’s bandage and…

And he fucking folded the corner of his page before closing the book.

Jaskier saw red. He stammered and pointed at the pages, gaping as he tried to find the right words to express his utter outrage. “You-You… Geralt!” he whined.

The witcher’s brow furrowed and he looked between the book and the bard, obviously completely confused by Jaskier’s sudden change in mood. “What?”

“You did not just fold down the pages!”

“Yes?”

Jaskier scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, dear witcher, you and I are taking a trip to Oxenfurt immediately!”

Geralt scowled, looking at Jaskier as if he’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“Geralt, please. Don’t make me suffer your cruelty any longer,” Jaskier pleaded.

The witcher rolled his eyes but didn’t argue any further. He just took Jaskier’s hands in his, keeping them away from the bandages. Jaskier blushed, the gap between them suddenly feeling too small and yet too far all at once. He swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden swell of nerves in his chest, and laced their fingers together, smiling shyly up at the witcher.

______

By the time they reached Oxenfurt, Jaskier’s limp had almost entirely gone. He still got tired quickly and by the end of the day he had to lean on Geralt or ride Roach until they found a suitable camping spot. Geralt had been ridiculously caring, obviously looking out for Jaskier at every opportunity, their days were shorter and well… Jaskier had actually been allowed to ride Roach. That was new. Holding hands had now become almost normal, and Geralt was just so gentle when he took care of the bandages, making sure the bite wound wasn’t infected. It made Jaskier’s heart do all sorts of acrobatics in his chest.

If he hadn’t been in love with the witcher, then he certainly would be after all of this-this… nonsense.

When Geralt wasn’t looking then he crouched at the side of the road, picking up a variety of buttercups and cornflowers and slipping them inside his heaviest poetry book. The supplies he needed from Oxenfurt were specialist ones. He hadn’t made bookmarks in ages, not since his days at the Academy, but he used to make them for all his friends. It was something to do with his hands that didn’t feel like work, and he had always enjoyed giving gifts. He was looking forward to getting back into his old hobby.

“Why are we here, Jaskier?” Geralt groused, glaring around the town with his scary witcher face. Jaskier felt a little bit bad for dragging Geralt back into a busy city but it was important.

He scoffed and waved a hand at the witcher. “You’ll see,” he said with a grin, and booped Geralt on the nose. “Don’t be nosy.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier hummed back, sticking out his tongue. “You know your way to my rooms at the Academy?” Geralt nodded. “Excellent! I will see you there in time for dinner, but I have shopping to do. Did you need any potion ingredients?”

Geralt cocked his head, his brow furrowing as he thought. “Blowballs.”

Jaskier grinned and brushed his lips against Geralt’s cheeks before he could chicken out. “Be good, darling, no scaring my colleagues.”

The witcher smirked. “Unless it’s Valdo?”

Jaskier laughed, “Unless it’s Valdo.”

And then they went their separate ways. Jaskier easily navigated the streets of Oxenfurt, basking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It was alive and thriving, as if it had a beating heart of its own. The witcher may hate the city but Jaskier lived for it. He was a bard, a man of the people. He needed to be seen, loved, adored. The bookshop was in the same place that it had been when he was a student, tucked away in the backstreets, only known by the students and professors. Jaskier grinned and slipped inside, the bell ringing as he pushed up the door.

He let his fingers trail along the leather spines of the books, inhaling the musky scent of paper and old parchment. It smelled like home, and a warmth settled in his heart. He knew this shop like the back of his hand, and he easily found the supplies he needed. The pressed flowers from the road would be fixed onto a soft leather strap, and then Jaskier would cut the end into smaller strips, creating a kind of tassel. He also planned to engrave an inscription into the leather, something lyrical, something poetic… something for Geralt to remember him by when they were apart.

“Gods, I’m pathetic,” he mumbled as he worked. His tongue flicked between his lips as it so often did when he needed to concentrate. Each letter took time, a delicate process, and he sat in the little corner at the back of the shop, just as he had in his youth. After an hour the owner, now an old man with a thick grey beard, brought him a cup of herbal tea. Jaskier smiled up at him, and gestured to his work.

“How’s it looking? I’m, well, I’m a little out of practice,” he hummed, scrunching up his nose.

“It’s beautiful, and it’s good to see you back here, Jaskier. It’s been too long. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”

“Oh, no. I would never!” Jaskier reassured him, “and thank you. This one is special.”

The shop owner chuckled. “You used to say that every time.”

Jaskier grinned sheepishly. “This one is extra special.”

He stayed later than he intended, past the closing time of the bookshop, and certainly past dinner time but he just lost track of time, too focused on his task. By the time he finished, Geralt’s bookmark was a work of art. The inscription was written in his finest calligraphy, and the flowers were arranged just perfectly. It had been made with love.

He just hoped that Geralt liked it.

When Jaskier made it back to his room, Geralt was perched on the corner of the bed, a needle and thread in his hands as he made repairs to his armour. His silver hair was loose and falling in front of his eyes, and there were the beginnings of a beard growing on his cheeks. The witcher’s golden slitted eyes were almost completely black in the dim light of the room, and Jaskier was once again envious of his friend’s ability to see in the dark. It was a handy skill, and he looked almost ethereal as the light bounced off his eyes, making them glow.

“Dinner was two hours ago,” Geralt murmured, not looking up from his sewing.

Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up and he scratched the back of his neck. “Ah, umm…, yes, well…”

“Jaskier.”

“You know how I get?”

“Hmm.”

His friend finally looked back up at him, giving Jaskier a soft fond smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Jaskier stuck his tongue out, “Don’t hum at me, witcher, I’m fluent in Geralt speak!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being obtuse, and don’t you dare…” Geralt hummed again. “Stop it! You bastard. I’m not giving you your present now.”

“Present?” Geralt cocked his head, looking stunned by Jaskier’s revelation.

“Ha! That got you, oh shit, cock it. It was meant to be a surprise. Fuck!” he groaned and buried his face in his hands. The bookmark was tucked away in his bag but it seemed to be taunting him, and he was suddenly struck by the fear that Geralt would hate it.

Fucking buttercups.

He was an idiot.

Why would a witcher want flowers on a bookmark?

“You got me a present?”

Jaskier nodded “I made you a present, Geralt.”

The witcher looked completely taken aback, a blush painting his cheeks. He set his needle and thread aside, and reached out for Jaskier. It was almost instinct at that point to reach back, taking Geralt’s hands in his. “Can I see?”

Jaskier glanced at his satchel and sighed. “Yes, yeah. Yes, of course. Umm, wait here.”

With shaking hands he plucked the cloth bundle from his satchel and handed it to Geralt, mentally preparing himself for the worst. At least he was already in Oxenfurt, he wouldn’t have to travel alone when the witcher inevitably decided to dump him. Gods, he was such a fool.

Geralt gingerly unfolded the dark blue cloth, humming as he picked up the bookmark. “Buttercups?”

Scratching the back of his neck, Jaskier cleared his throat. “Yes?”

“To my dearest, Geralt. May your days be filled with Destiny, heroics, and love. Ever yours, Jaskier.” Geralt read the words aloud and Jaskier wanted to sink into the floor. It was ridiculous. They weren’t even that good. He was supposed to be a poet for Lilit’s sake.

“It’s shit. I’m sorry, I’m tired, what with my leg healing and the rush to get here, but I just… you fold down the corners of your page, Geralt. I could not sit by and let that happen, and I-I… ah fuck it. I wanted you to have something to remember me by, you know,” he gave a flick of his wrist, one hand resting on his hip, “when you’re stuck up in that mysterious witcher keep of yours, and well, you probably don’t remember but I-I said you smelled like-”

“Death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak, I remember.”

“Oh, umm… well yes. Death and heartbreak seemed a bit… dramatic? So, I-I changed it… to love.”

“Thank you, Julek,” Geralt murmured, cupping Jaskier’s cheek and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss that was over before Jaskier could even process what was happening.

He stared wide-eyed up at his friend, his heart racing and the whole universe shifted until Geralt was at the centre, burning brightly in the dark. Jaskier cupped the nape of Geralt’s neck and pulled him back into another kiss, and this time they didn’t break apart, their lips moving in tandem. It was slow, lazy even. There was no rush, just the two of them against the world, their breaths mingling and their hearts beating as one.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #wolfie's witcher writing

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marc--chilton · 6 days

Note

I NEED LAWRENCE AND ADAM IN THE OMEGAVERSE WITH THEIR PUPS AND I NEED IT NEOW!!!!!

BAHHJGAKLGHADNAAHGA 💀💀💀💀

i have a more angsty au in the back pocket but i'm gonna go out on a limb and say some more general and positive au stuff (positive being "adam lives and lawrence isn't an apprentice" i.e. incredibly safe happy au)

adam didn't really see himself being a parent due to his financial situation (read: broke as hell), not thinking he'd be a good one, not finding anyone right for him, etc, but overall didn't really think about it too hard. until lawrence. they didn't hook up right out of the hospital, but they did move in together after the gordons' divorce, which in turn means diana visiting on the weekends. and oh wow. even before they're together, seeing lawrence be a sweet dad to diana really. did something for adam. to him, too, honestly.

once they do get together, adam sometimes cracks jokes about lawrence getting him pregnant to fluster him -- which it does most of the time. it gets worse around heat/rut -- and to.... test the waters in a way. lawrence only reacts negatively with regards to the timing of these jokes (adam whispering it to him while they're walking and lawrence just sternly going "adam.") but never the subject matter itself.

they don't really talk about it beforehand. adam's still a little unsure and lawrence doesn't assume anything about the jokes, just chalking it up to adam's strange sense of humor + even if he does want another pup (he loves being a dad sooo much and he has No Doubt about adam being a good parent) he doesn't want to make adam feel pressured by broaching the subject seeing as he'd be doing the hard part of carrying the pup.

but they do finally talk about it when after one heat adam starts having symptoms. morning sickness for him is especially bad (and lasts through the majority of his pregnancy) yet even after throwing up so hard he pisses himself, lawrence still finds adam smelling good (omega biological defense mechanism, pregnancy pushes soothing, attractive notes into their scent to entice people to staying close and keeping them safe), which is what has them both sharing A Look. like. oh. this might be big.

lawrence reassures adam that whatever he decides he wants to do, he'll be behind him 100%. yes, he might be a little sad for a bit if adam decides to terminate, but it wouldn't break them up or anything drastic like that. and honestly that seals it for adam: they're having this pup.

yes they are incredibly shmoopy about it. lawrence can't purr but oh my god he can happy-rumble. he kisses all over adam's face so much that adam almost chokes on his own purr laughing.

the anxiety adam had about taking care of diana by himself when lawrence had to leave (he tries to spend ALL his time with diana while she's there but life happens) is nothing compared to adam's nerves about raising a pup "from scratch". lawrence has to reassure adam so very often that he's gonna do just fine, no, you will not drop the pup nor will you accidentally press on the soft spot and kill them. how easily adam got himself to quit smoking is a testament to how attentive and GOOD he'll be, actually, even when the withdrawals making him moodier on top of the hormones.

speaking of hormones! even after lawrence sits with him and tends to him through the morning sickness (he is late nearly every day he has to work because of this) once he leaves for the hospital, adam very bluntly says "so you hate me". the first time it happens lawrence is so caught off guard he's not even hurt, just completely baffled. and adam is so confident in this assessment, and lawrence is late enough as it is, so he just leaves him be. lawrence is so ??? the entire day as it was just so out of the blue, with no logic in the assumption -- which is unlike adam, who while he can get pretty angry, always has some reasoning behind it. of course, adam is mortified within an hour (if that) of lawrence leaving, so when he gets home that evening, adam has a hard time meeting his eye. lawrence reassures him he's not mad, just worried. adam mutters, "hormones. sorry." and that's the end of that.

after they talk it out (if. you can call it that) those "you hate me" moments still happen, but lawrence simply replies, gentle but firm, "no, i don't hate you, sweetheart." adam doesn't apologize verbally but his regret is still obvious in his body language, like tucking into lawrence's side, curled and small, and purring much softer than his normal motorcycle purring to show he's sorry.

the worst part of all the changes for adam is the mood swings. they are brutal. he emotionally exhausts himself every single day and has never been more thankful to be able to take naps whenever he wants. anger is one he swings to most often as it's the emotion most familiar to him, only this time the anger scares him. it's not as reliable as it once was. there's a nightmare he has after blowing up at lawrence where he's back in the bathroom, killing zep again. he keeps going and going, blinded by the blood in his eyes, until the cistern lid is reduced to gravel. but then he wipes his face and sees blond hair among the brain matter.

on an entirely less upsetting note, adam has never been as regularly horny in his LIFE up until that point. especially the further along he is. the best part is that the knowledge that adam is carrying his pup gets lawrence almost as hot. in fact, lawrence hits three separate ruts over the 9 month period, all of which making him the STUPIDEST he's ever been, much to adam's delight. to his own embarrassment, lawrence has slurred out pleas to get adam pregnant in both systems (adam is trans. obviously) so he'll have a litter. they both have insane breeding kinks, is basically what i'm trying to say here.

anyway. adam also manages to get away with eating more junk by blaming his cravings. lawrence prefers a minimal fast food diet but if adam insists it's a pregnancy craving for wendy's, he'll cave. adam does get cravings, of course (his big one is shrimp. HUGE on shrimp) so he's not lying about it ALL the time at least :3c just like half the time :3c

adam and diana get even closer somehow. she warmed up to the idea of a little sibling fairly quickly for a slightly babied only child, and once lawrence tells her the pup can hear them -- diana is very inquisitive and asks about the development in that sweet child way every time she comes over -- when she first comes in on the weekends she never fails to say hi to adam's belly. it's so incredibly darling. before adam didn't like to intrude on gordon father-daughter time, but after he gets pregnant he's drawn in to the domesticity with incredible ease.

oh my god does that pup kick. absolutely ROWDY fetus. adam once complained that it's something they get from lawrence and lawrence just deadpanned, "adam. do i look like the type to kickbox" while gesturing to his prosthetic. got his ass. it also gets more active when lawrence talks, which when pointed out, made lawrence a bit smug. "seems like they got that from you, actually." adam can barely even argue that, he loves him. got his ass x2.

the actual birth day was...... an endeavor.

the first time adam held their pup was lifechanging. he was transfixed. he even tuned lawrence out for a bit just..... processing it all. holy shit, they have a baby. "lawrence..... we have a pup together." "we do." "we're parents now." "i'm a little ahead of you there, but yes." "oh my god."

within an hour of their pup being born, adam had grumbled at lawrence to "stop lookin' like that." lawrence, who had been babbling like a total goofball to them already, chirped out a questioning noise, adam clarified. "lookin' all dadly. gonna get me pregnant again." lawrence tried to hush him but he had flushed and chuckled so it was just another win for adam that day

my GOD that is the most spoiled pup. adam surprises lawrence by taking their pup out to the park, or the store, or the photo place adam's made some friends at, when before he usually preferred to stay at home. adam's friend circle is a bit chaotic now that he's associated with lawrence and has cut ties with scott but he wants to flaunt So Bad. he buys so many baby clothes despite lawrence's gentle reminders that babies grow fast so they'll be grown out of before they know it. to adam this just means he can shop in 🔥a different section of baby clothes at the mall🔥

lawrence still has some hangups about using a wheelchair even when it's the best option for him on bad days (doctors are terrible patients) but adam has talked him into using more after they have their pup. "use the chair, you can hold the baby and i'll push you along, c'mon it'll be easier lar" and lawrence will grumble about it a little but it's still nice admittedly.

this is everything i have for now (for this au) i hope it satisfied some of that craving in you, dear anon (how fucking long was i writing this. oh my god it's been 2 hours)

#asks #anon #mgv #sawmegaverse #chainshipping #nsft #getting the notif for this KILLED me btw i was watching a review for a hallmarking movie featuring cheese #then just “I NEED LAWRENCE...” at the top of my screen like damn me too!!#sometimes i do feel like i'm only indulging myself when i get into mgv pup stuff so this was reassuring to get #i just. houguhghh. Fambly #i had to cut this up because tumblr wasn't gonna let me post it otherwise HELPGPOKG

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moonbeam-writing · 3 years

Note

hey shawty could you write a karma x reader (she/her) angst to comfort where the reader has a crush on karma and she gets insecure cuz she sees him talking to okuda a lot and karma sees the reader talking to nagisa a lot and gets insecure but they make up in the end ty <3!!!

— Insecurities

๑ Requested by a lovely Anon! ♡

๑ Characters: Karma Akabane (Assassination Classroom)

๑ Quick Note: I'm so sorry that this took as long as it did to be posted! And that it can actually read rather platonically! I didn't mean for that to happen, however, I really hope you enjoy it! ♡

๑ Warnings: Slight angst and mentions of insecurity!

๑ Word Count: 1,180!

—

(Y/N) sighed softly as she looked towards the front of the classroom. As much as she would have preferred to be passive about what she was seeing, (Y/N) couldn’t deny how badly it hurt her.

Since the first day she laid her eyes on Karma Akabane, and even more when his suspension ended, (Y/N) had found herself head over heels. The two weren't quite thick as thieves, however, they found themselves close enough for others to see them as best friends. That fact alone made seeing Karma and Okuda talking even harder.

(Y/N) felt terrible about it, too. Okuda was easily one of the sweetest people she had ever met, and on top of that, one of the smartest. Most days, even in (Y/N)'s finest moments, (Y/N) compared herself to the girl Karma was occupying himself with. The envy that she felt flood through her veins on what was becoming a regular basis made her feel sick.

Luckily for her, (Y/N) felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Hey, (Y/N)." The voice and hand belonged to Nagisa who was looking at her with obvious worry in his eyes. "Do you wanna go talk?"

Shakily, or rather distractedly, (Y/N) nodded, letting Nagisa guide her out into the hall.

From where he was talking with Okuda, Karma watched the two go out into the hall, curiosity immediately making an appearance. What could (Y/N) and Nagisa have to talk about? Why did (Y/N) look all bummed out? He just didn't get it. What could those two have to talk about that they couldn't tell him?

Thinking back on it, (Y/N) and Nagisa have been talking a lot more on their own recently. It had been happening more the last two weeks, yet this seemed different. Karma decided he would dig more into it in a minute. Right now he needed to pick Okuda's brain for his next assassination attempt.

Out in the hall, (Y/N) was sitting next to Nagisa on the floor, close to ripping her hair out.

"I just don't get it!" She exclaimed, letting her head hit the wall behind her. "Like, she's so wonderful in every way, Karma deserves something like that, so why does it hurt so bad?"

"Because you have feelings for him." Nagisa calmly responds. "(Y/N), this is normal for people in your situation. You can't keep beating yourself up for something like this."

The girl just frowned and leaned her head against his shoulder. Nagisa was right, and even if it was deep down, (Y/N) knew it. She didn't know if it made her situation easier or harder for herself, though. She still couldn't grasp how to deal with all of the envy she was feeling and she hated it. She just wanted it to stop.

The door then suddenly opened, pulled (Y/N) away from her negative thoughts. Looking up, she saw that it was Karma and slight dread started pooling into her stomach. How much did he hear?

"Mind if I cut in?" Karma acted as he always did; casually and as though their lives weren't insane. Karma himself caused certain amounts of envy in (Y/N) as well. To (Y/N), there was just so much to admire in him.

"Not at all," Nagisa replied, feeling the sudden tension. After that, Nagisa left without a word and Karma took his place.

The two sat in an odd silence. As comfortable as they were around each other, something was off. Karma knew something was wrong with (Y/N) and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like she was in trouble.

"Are you doing okay, (Y/N)?" Karma's question took her by mild surprise.

"Hm? Of course I am." (Y/N) made the feeble attempt of playing dumb, but immediately knew that Karma wasn't that dumb. Never has been, and honestly, she wasn't sure why she tried.

(Y/N) had always known him well. Too observant for his own good, in her opinion. And while both things were true, he was also rather attentive to people's feelings. Granted, Karma usually used it for manipulation purposes, it usually came in handy for those who he cared about. (Y/N), whether she knew it or not, was one of those people.

"Liar," if the situation were a bit different, Karma likely would have chuckled a bit, however, this was more serious. (Y/N) had seemed a bit down and out for a while now, but the last week or so have been concerning. "You've been off, and I want to know why."

(Y/N) bit her lip slightly and looked down. Any hope she had had of avoiding this was now entirely down the drain. "I just…" She wasn't sure if it was shame or embarrassment, but finding the right words felt difficult. "Why do you hang around me?"

Her voice was small and pitiful and if Karma were anyone else, he likely would have physically reacted to it. Instead, however, he continued to somewhat stoically sit there next to her. Though on the outside he looked unfazed, maybe even bored, his mind was spinning.

What could she possibly mean by that?

Karma wasn't entirely sure where this was coming from, if it had been something he did, or something he had said, however, Karma knew he needed to help her.

"Are you kidding?" He asked, his tone bordered on incredulous and amused, hoping to ease any panic and to lift the mood a little. "You're one of my best friends. There's literally no one I'd rather be around most of the time."

Karma's response caused multiple reactions in his listener as well as himself. While (Y/N)'s curiosity almost immediately mingled with her current insecurities, Karma just wanted to laugh at himself. Most of the time? Who was he trying to fool? What came out as most of the time was really all the time.

"Really?" The pause after Karma's response gave (Y/N) a moment to push past her thoughts. She had realized that if Karma didn't care about her, then he definitely wouldn't sit in the hallway with her, let alone have what felt to be a sappy conversation with her.

"Really, really." As soon as the words left his lips, (Y/N)'s relief at the reassurance took over and she immediately hugged him.

Karma wasn't exactly one for affection, so for the second time in a single school year, he felt his face flood with heat, his skin nearly matching his hair. Despite how foreign it had felt, the fact that (Y/N) was the one hugging him made everything seem normal. Not even normal, but correct, like there was no one else he'd want holding him.

This moment solidified any feelings the others had towards each other. Karma felt comfortable and (Y/N)'s insecurities felt like they were instantly melting. This was a turning point for both of them and more importantly, it was one they were content with.

#anon request! ♡#assassination classroom #assassination classroom drabble #assassination classroom x readwr #assassination classroom x reader drabble #assassination classroom request #karma akabane drabble #karma akabane x reader #karma akabane #karma x reader

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st0nesnglitter · 3 years

Text

Poly relationship w/ the marauders

Headcannons and drabbles about dating James, Sirius and Remus

Mentions of sex, nudity and non-sexual nudity

Not proofed

-----------

It’s the most beautiful relationship ever

Growing from platonic love to romantic is hard as it is, so when it happened between four people you really needed to have a strong foundation

Remus was pretty surprised when he started seeing Sirius and James share intimate moments around their dorm but he also felt a twang of jealousy as he watched the interractions

So now their was constant reassurance that the love was between all of you, everyone loves everyone

Sirius can get a little bit possessive over the three of you and would not hesitate to throw out dangerous looks to anyone that lets their gaze lingers

The biggest sap out of the four of you is definitely James

He loves slowdancing in the kitchen in the morning as you cook breakfast

”Aw come on you two, you’re gonna burn the food!” Remus whined and runs up to the stove to stir, but James just giggled.

”But how could I focus to such a mundane task when I can admire this beauty?”James grinned toward you and you rolled your eyes.

Prongs always remember every date that needs to be remembered, and a couple that doesn’t and loves celebrating birthdays

Sirius had never had a real celebration for his birthday and can barely remember the date of his birth

And Remus don’t want to be a burden and try to refuse to tell James when he asks

Remus is always very warm and often goes to sleep in the guest bedroom when all of you have fallen asleep, not because he doesn’t want to cuddle but because he feels like you would get uncomfortable from his heat

But in the morning he wakes up with all three of you cuddled up to him in the guest bed

You’d spend the summers in the Potter’s summer house, right by a lake

Sirius tries to insist that clothes are unnecessary and wants to implement a ”no pants”- rule

James agrees and walks around in only boxers for three days straight

Skinny dipping in the lake after really hot days

The suns wrath was upon you and sweat trickled down the back of your neck. Remus’ prediction that it would cool down toward the evening could not have been more wrong and at around 7 PM it was unbearable. The rule Sirius had tried to get you all to follow had come true and the four of you were lounging around in the thinnest shirts you could find.

”Lets go to the lake” James murmered and stands up from his loveseat, stretching his arms over his head ”gotta cool off”.

Thankfully the shore was basically in the garden and you and Sirius raced down and stripped as fast as possible before running down the jetty and jumping into the water.

James and Sirius took their time taking off their clothes, spending some extra time aprreciating the others body, before walking out to you and Sirius.

Rem collects chapsticks and you show him the best muggle brands <3

And Sirius has made it a game to kiss him and guess the flavour

”I know, wait... SHUSH” Sirius pulled a hand through his hair as he took in the flavour with a laughing Remus behind him.

”Marshmallows!!” The raven-haired boy exclaimed proudly but his face faltered as Remus didn’t burst out in celebration.

”Actually it’s ”s’mores”, so that means that you are once again incorrect”.

Walks are very common throughout your group

Remus likes to air out his brain after long study sessions or a hard day of work

Sirius wants to smoke and since you’re hard on him to not do it out a window you bring him outside

James wants to pick flowers, look at the scenery and plan pranks out of hearing distance from potential victims

Dinners are wild

Remus will climb on top of the table to gain some attention to explain his newest ideas to take over the world

And Sirius will tug on his pantleg so they almost tip the whole table over telling him to ”sit down you baby!”

James is a very picky eater and is grumpy the whole dinner whenever Remus uses a new recipe

Putting Sirius’ hair up when it’s in his way or it’s too hot, and keeps saying that he can’t do it himself

Jamie is the sleepiest boy

He can almost always be found on the couch or in the giant bed snoozing away or blinking heavily whilst desperately trying to listen to Remus reading

REMUS LOVES TO READ TO YOU

Even though he just wants to read on his own he adores when you, Si and Jamie lay down around him and a silence spreads except Remmy baritone voice and the occasional flip of a page

Before a date two dark-haired boys are cramming into the mirror in the bathroom trying to style their hair to the nines as you and Rem sits and waits out in the living room

Introducing them to movies and they decide that you’ll have a movie night once a week

Showing them all your favorites and atleast one movie from each genre

Cigarettes after sex, the only time you let them do it inside cause you are all too tired to move and the sight of these goregous men smoking is too good to be true

Sirius handed James, who sat to his left, the cigarette before the bespectacled boy took a long drag. He leaned his head back as he blew out the smoke before reaching over Sirius to give it to Remus. Soft lips wrapped around the filter and he sighed as he felt the nicotine enter him and the engery that he had lost from prevoius actions started to come back. Rem ashed into the ashtray before looking over to you with hooded eyes.

Kisses are a constant

Being the attention whore that he is Sirius always wanted one for every single one that was shared where he was excluded

I’ve said this before but: James is a sub

Sirius is a switch

Remus is a dom

James is also a himbo

He’s really fascinated by muggle things but his excitement is sometimes ruined by the other boys making up stuff and him strutting over to ask you about it

Gently telling him that that wasn’t true but making it up by telling him a true fact

Singing songs from the top of yojr lungs as Sirius or James olays guitar

Only one who gets to touch Sirius’ hair is Remu (brushing, styling, cutting)

All of the boys have their own set of insecurities and can be caught comparing themselves to each other

Remus wants Si’s clean and whole skin, without cuts and scars, and jeslous of James rippling muscles

Sirius wants Remus height, being the shortest of them will leave you to the bad end of some petty jokes

James desires their intelligence, especially during their time at Hogwarts cause he felt like he is slowing their academical achievements down

Painting Pads nails black to try and make him stop biting them

Jamie making up songs on the spot and singing them loud eneough to be heard from every room

”Prongs I swear to FUCK if you don’t stop singing I’ll put your mouth to better use!

Discussing sharing a last name

Siri does not want you to be Blacks since only pain and sadness follows that name

Rem does not want it to be Lupin since it reminds him of what he is everyday

So you settle on becoming Potters

James is so, so excited and lays you down and just stared at the three of you with awe

”You’re mine, you all are so beautiful and you are all mine”

Sirius sobs when he finally legally is a Potter

And he’s no longer a Black

Full moons are hard but you soothe Rem best you can

The night he comes back and is hurting you always make him a cup coco since his jaw is too sore to chew regulat chocolate

He adapts this and everytime he sees one of you down he goes and makes some coco

Wearing each others clothes to bed

Your closets are just a mess and you take whatever it gives you

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knivesareout · 3 years

Text

My Best Decision

Pairing: Javier Peña x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Smut (18!!!+), Oral sex (fem receiving), Unprotected sex, Filth, Possible typos and bad usage of commas.

A/N: I have a whole ass universe to these two tucked away somewhere in my mind and this scene felt like it needed to be written so here we are. I haven’t written anything substantial in years so pls be nice to me, thanks. You can also read it on AO3 here. Big thanks to @dirty-holy-things for being a general gem of a friend and proofreading this for me. Hope y’all enjoy!!!

Summary: Time to yourselves is something hard to come by for you and Javi. When his dad offers to take your little one for the night, you have a few things in mind on what you can fill the quiet with.

Texas was a different kind of hot, you quickly came to realize. Colombia had been sticky and humid, the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin the absolute worst. Texas came with a dry heat compared to Colombia and it was a change that was welcome in your book.

It’d been about two years now in Laredo and it always made you wonder when you’d stop comparing the two places. It’s not like you lived in Colombia all that long, anyway; just the time it took to complete your Master’s Degree and a few months after, staying behind with Javier until his assignment with the DEA was over. Javi had warned you of all the different things moving to Texas entailed when the decision had been made, even offering up a few other options- like Miami, where Steve had tried to entice the two of you to join him and Connie and their kids. But, Texas had felt right for some reason. Being close to Javier’s father and having that sense of family was something you craved and so, Laredo became home.

Once you had your first child, it just cemented that moving to Texas had been the right decision. Javi had been a mess in the delivery room, pacing constantly and offering to get you anything every 10 seconds. It would’ve been funnier if you weren’t in pain and almost screaming at him to fuck off. Your daughter was born screaming and crying into the world, Javi’s tears unstoppable as he cut the cord and passed her over to you, the gentle grip on her so tender and careful.

The sight of Chucho crying when he’d met your little girl at the hospital, whispering to her how spoiled she was going to be by her abuelo, was something you’d never forget and with Javi rolling his eyes behind his father’s back, you knew he was going to be just as bad as his father, if not worse, and he was. Tiny little Emilia Anaís Peña had the two men wrapped around her finger the second she yawned, her fists popping out of the blanket she was wrapped in, in search of a finger to hold on to.

Now, at just six months, your little girl was a handful and that was putting it lightly. She was crawling everywhere and yanking on anything she could get her hands on, and that included yours and Javi’s hair. A moment of peace was hard to come by, her cries loud and piercing if no one was paying attention to her. Javier was always the first one to give into her pleas, placating her wails with quiet songs sung under his breath and a soothing hand across her back. She was a daddy’s girl and you couldn’t even find it in you to be upset about it, the sight always putting an instant smile on your face.

It was crazy to think there was a time where you believed something like this wasn’t possible- the family, the house together, and anything really beyond a late night hook-up with Javier. Yet, here you were, and Emilia was the perfect blend of you two as you caught her dark eyes slowly drifting close on Javier’s shoulder.

“Javi?” You ask, shuffling the bills that cluttered your kitchen table into a neat pile and setting them aside to go through after dinner.

“Yeah baby?” He slowly turns to glance at you, his hand spanning across your daughter’s back as he holds her to his chest. You could already see the drool mark on his salmon colored shirt and smile softly to yourself. It was still early, and any sleep she got was a blessing. 3am wake up calls were getting tiring and Javi was taking the brunt of them, letting you sleep.

“I was thinking,” you start, walking towards him to brush a fallen strand of hair across Emilia’s forehead as she breathes in slowly. “Maybe Chucho could take Emilia tonight? He called earlier and mentioned I sounded tired, asked if we needed a break. I thought it would be nice to have a night to ourselves. Maybe actually catch up on sleep, watch a movie.”

You would’ve been offended at Javier’s father calling you out, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he brought it up, but you knew he was right. Sleep was a myth at this point and it was only made worse now as Emilia was slowly starting to get her teeth in. You told him you’d let him know what Javier thought by lunch time, giving him a quiet thank you before you’d hung up.

The look on Javi’s face was one you knew well. It was his thinking face. Brows furrowed in thought, lips pursed. He was silently going over the pros and cons of being away from your daughter for the first time, his lips pursed. “It’s gonna have to happen at some point, right? I guess that’s fine,” he finally acquiesces, hiking Emilia higher up on his chest while she snoozes. “Call my dad and let him know we’ll be over in an hour. I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.” With a kiss to your forehead, he turns out of the kitchen and whispers quietly to Emilia that her ‘daddy was going to miss her so much’.

You nod mostly to yourself as he leaves, watching as he heads through the house to no doubt hole himself up in the office with Emilia on his chest while he read over papers he needed to grade. There wasn’t a task he did day-to-day where he didn’t try to have Emilia with him. He’d take her to class with him if you didn’t physically remove her from his side in the mornings. Watching Javier hand her over to Chucho would be interesting and you smirk as you walk back to the kitchen to call your father-in-law, a little pep to your step as you thought about all the things you could do in the next 24 hours.

The handoff had been hilarious, your giggles quiet behind your hand as you watched your daughter reach for her grandfather with a giant smile on her face and paying no mind to Javi’s scowl. Emilia was just as smitten with her abuelo as she was with her father and she wasn’t nearly as torn up about the goodbye as Javier was. She’d giggled and waved bye with the help of Chucho as you’d left and it almost looked like Javier wanted to cry. He’d huffed once you were back in his truck and remained quiet on the short drive back to your house, your hand reaching for his in a comforting squeeze.

The house seemed strange, feeling almost empty, without Emilia’s presence despite her toys being scattered throughout the living room. Some part of you felt guilty at your excitement to finally have a night without your daughter but, it was needed and you’d be damned if you didn’t try to make the most of it. Locking the door behind you once Javier was sitting on the couch, you kicked your shoes off and sat down to curl yourself into his side, his arm wrapping around you tight.

“Are you gonna mope around until we pick her up tomorrow?” You tease him, reaching up to tilt Javier’s gaze towards your own.

A slow smile breaks across his features and he shakes his head, looking guilty. “No. I’m sorry,” he sighs, taking your hand from his chin to lace your fingers together. “It’s just weird and I know it’s something that we’ll have to do but I just. Miss her.”

“I know, Javi,” you nod, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t we take a nap and then I’ll make us lunch and we can just bask in the quietness for a little bit, hm?”

“Yeah, that sounds,” he yawns, making you chuckle. “Good. Yeah, a nap sounds good.”

As you push yourself up off the couch and stretch, Javi’s calloused fingers reach out and brush across the bare skin of your hip, your t-shirt raising with the stretch of your arms and the feeling of his hands on you sends a slight shiver up your spine. It’d been far too long since the two of you managed to be intimate, your mind blanking on the last time it wasn’t just hurried hands and covered mouths to muffle the moans and grunts from seeking a quick release before running off towards Emilia’s cries.

It’s like Javi’s tiredness is suddenly forgotten, the bareness of your skin a reminder that he hasn’t touched you in so long. A smirk slides across his lips while his hand travels further up your shirt, squeezing along your side until his fingers skim across the underside of your left breast and this thumb seeks out the hardened peak of your nipple to pull between his nimble fingers.

“Javi,” his name is quiet on your lips and you’re not sure if he even heard it until you feel his hand engulf the entirety of your breast and he squeezes and kneads the sensitive flesh in answer.

“Please.”

In a flash, Javier is pulling you down onto his lap where he still sits on the couch and you’re almost winded at the move as you sit on his strong thighs to steady yourself.

You hate that you want to stop this and move it to the bedroom where his back won’t hurt as bad, where you both can spread out and enjoy each other because the spontaneity of it all is sexy and a call back to your time in Colombia where you and Javi couldn’t get enough of each other.

When you don’t automatically start grinding down onto his lap, Javi glances up at you curiously, “What’s wrong, baby?

“Take me to bed?”

He gets it then with a quick nod and you know he’s thinking the same things you are and pulls you close to his chest as he moves off the couch and slides you back down to the ground. Taking your hand in his, he guides the two of you down the hallway towards your bedroom. It’s almost comical, the eagerness of your steps, and he presses you against the wall just next to the door of the room once you’re inside.

“Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner when you suggested dropping off Emilia at my dad’s,” he breathes against your ear, hands falling to your hips and squeezing them tight.

You laugh against his ear, his mouth moving across your neck and his lips trailing across your collarbone to sponge heavy kisses on any bare skin he can find. “Kinda figured it was an unspoken thing. I’ll be more blunt next time,” you grin, running a hand through his dark hair and tugging him away from your neck to lock your gaze with his. “Fuck me, Javi. I’ve missed your cock, baby. Please.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise at your bluntness but he wastes no time, pulling you away from the wall to back you up against the foot of your bed where you fall back, your hands reaching back to catch your fall. Biting your lip as you watch Javi’s chest heave, the tight pink shirt stretched across his chest, your legs instantly pressing together in search of some relief. Even just looking at him has you wet between your thighs and the movement isn’t lost on him.

Javier is quick to undress, his clothes haphazardly tossed to the side, leaving him in only his boxers where his cock is straining against the seam in the middle. Seeing his clear arousal causes another wave of wetness to pool between your legs and you crook a finger, hoping to entice him to come closer. Kneeling on the bed, he brings you up with him to lay against the pillows and trails a finger down your thin t-shirt to where your leggings sit on your stomach, tracing along the waistband.

“Tell me what you want, hermosa,” Javi asks you quietly, nose nudging against your cheek while his fingers dip just slightly under the fabric.

Normally you weren’t so bold, but with how pent up you were there was no hesitation to your voice when you spoke up, turning to look him in the eye. “I want your mouth on my pussy, Javi. Then I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk the next day.” His fingers still against your skin, the side of his mouth quirking up and he sat up suddenly, yanking down your shorts along with your underwear to leave you bare from the waist below.

“So wet for me already, hm?” Javier spreads your legs wider, putting you on display for him and your body is shameless in the way it opens itself for his greedy eyes. Your hands slide up your tummy and under your shirt to grasp at your breasts, tugging on your nipples while you watch him watch you.

Rough hands smooth up your thighs as Javi moves to settle himself between your legs. Your eyes follow his movements, watching as he licks his lips once he pulls your pussy lips apart and sighs softly to himself. “Most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” he makes sure to tell you before flicking your clit with his tongue.

Javi is relentless in the way he eats you out, mouth sloppy and slick after just a moment and when he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, you can see how debauched he already is. You blink quickly as Javi spits on your pussy, bringing a finger up to rub the wetness against your clit and you cry out. Your hands move from your chest to grip the comforter below you and you pant his name like a prayer once his two of his fingers slowly slide inside of you.

“It’s been so long, baby. Gonna have to stretch you out a bit before I slide my cock in you.” Javi’s voice is rough, scratchy and you bare down against his fingers once he starts a slow rhythm of fucking you. “You always take me so well though. Like your pussy was made for me.”

“Want your cock, Javi. Please,” you plead in reply, your left hand releasing the comforter from your grip and sliding it through his hair and tugging softly to get his attention, hoping he would look up and see the desperation on your face.

Javier pays you no mind. His fingers start fucking you in earnest, a third slipping in next to the other two thick digits and you can slowly feel your orgasm building. A slow simmer through your body, like a current that was waiting to crash. Your whines fill the room, along with the wet sound of his fingers fucking you. Once his thumb starts rubbing your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, you feel like you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Come on baby, can feel you squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Come on my fingers. Come.”

At the sound of his voice, something snaps inside of you and you cry out his name as wave after wave of pleasure wracks through your body. Your body pulses around his fingers, back taut as you ride his hand.

Javier’s voice is soft as he coaxes you through your release, “Such a good girl. So good for me, aren’t you?” Peppering kisses across your thighs and up your tummy, he slowly slides his fingers out of you and into his mouth to lick them clean.

The sight is obscene as you watch him, your body still pulsing from your release. A smug grin is painted across Javier’s face and you bring a hand through the damp hair on his forehead and push it out of his eyes. “God that was good,” you laugh, scratching at his scalp.

“Thanks for the glowing review, querida.” Javier kisses his way up your stomach, tugging at your shirt that had been bunched up under your arms to finally rid you of the last bit of material that was blocking your body from his.

You can taste yourself on his lips when they finally meet, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip before kissing you slowly. The kiss is languid and soft, your hands grasping at Javier’s back to pull his chest to your own. Your hands wander down to his hips, tugging at the band of his boxers with a frustrated groan when you can’t manage to pull them down all the way and you move away from his lips, “Javi, take them off. Fuck, please. I need to feel you.”

Javier pulls away just enough to tug down his boxers and kick them off before he’s descending back on to you, his cock hard and wet at the tip smearing across your thigh. Your hips move around as you try and line him up, a whine slipping past your lips, desperate. It’d been too long since you’d been able to fully appreciate the heavy weight of him inside you and you were needy, body wanton and open for him.

“Baby, calm down. I’ve got you. Shhh,” he quiets you, a quick kiss to your lips.

Your eyes widen as you feel the tip of his cock running through the slit of your soaked pussy, the head catching on your clit and you cry out as he continues to tease you. The feeling is torture and you dig your nails into his back, a silent plea that you need more. Javier seems to get the message and presses into your cunt, the thickness of him splitting you open in the best way. He’s wide and long, the perfect fit and once he’s bottomed out you feel pure euphoria at the pleasure it brings you.

“Shit you feel so good, squeezing me so tight,” Javier grunts, his hips slowly starting a rhythm as he fucks into you. The slapping of skin fills the room, his cock slick with your arousal.

No one had ever felt as good as Javi did and he knew it, the smug bastard. You nod quickly, agreeing with him as you were at his mercy. “So good, Javi. So good. Harder, please.”

He’s quick to comply, his hips fucking into yours at a brutal pace. His hands pull your thighs up at an angle that makes your vision blurry, calves thrown around his shoulders and he’s relentless as he thrusts into you. You watch him lick at the pad of his thumb, the digit finding your wet clit quickly and he rubs in time with his thrusts.

A moan catches in your throat as your climax nears, head dug into the pillow beneath your head, legs going rigid against him and you tighten around his cock as you cum, Javi’s filthy words muttered low. “God you feel so fucking good around me, squeezing me like this. Cum for me baby, fuck fuck fuck-,” and he finds his own release just behind your own, spilling hot and wet inside your cunt.

Your body feels boneless, the tips of your fingers numb as you drag them across Javi’s back as he breathes slow and hot against your neck trying to catch his breath. Feeling starts to return to your limbs, and you card your fingers through the sweaty curls at the back of Javi’s head. “You still got it there Agent Peña,” you tease, tugging the short hairs up to get him to look at you.

The look on his face is pure annoyance and you give him your biggest shit-eating grin as he shakes his head and slowly pulls out of you with a groan before sliding next to you and tugging you into his side. “You’re lucky I love you,” Javier grumbles, arm wrapped around you and fingertips trailing along your upper arm in a soothing motion.

“I love you too,” you sigh against this chest, tucked underneath his chin. “How many more rounds do you think we can get in before we have to pick up Emilia tomorrow?”

Javi pauses before he answers and hums to himself, knowing he’s genuinely thinking about it putting a smile on your face. “Gonna shoot for 5 but, I’m an old man now so who knows huh?” He digs his fingers into your side, tickling you.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Javi. I’m tired.” You pat at his chest blindly as you yawn, kissing his chest once you’re more settled under the blankets.

He grumbles quietly to himself but is out like a light a few beats later, snoring softly in your ear, filling the silence of the unusually quiet house. Your hands trace carefully along his chest, mind already filling with other things you two can get up to before you pick up your daughter, wondering if you still had your toys stashed away somewhere.

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos fanfic #my writing

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

the way i loved you

Summary: you regret leaving spencer after everything you've been through.

TW: angst?, fluff, kissing, breakup, mild argument. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,843

A/N: taylor's version of of that's the way i loved you has stolen my heart and i felt like making a short lil fic about this song. it’s also a second fic in celebration of hitting 700 followers! happy reading!

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

he was great.

he really was.

he was kind, and smart, and endearing. he was the perfect gentleman. he opened the door for you when you got into and out of his car. he tells you what you need to hear. he's incredible.

tonight when he held your hand as you stepped into his car, he made sure to whisper to you how beautiful you looked in your dress. spencer's favorite dress.

which is why you felt guilty about thinking of spencer.

you were going on a date with him and you couldn't stop thinking about your ex. spencer inhabited your mind when you did nearly everything. it was as if he had never left. the memories of him were always fresh in your mind... even the bad ones.

the arguments. the screaming.

but then there was the passion. the heat that never cooled off between you two. the spark that never dimmed. the light that seemed solar powered, never going out. you wondered if it was still there.

"what were you thinking about getting?" he asked, entirely mesmerized by your presence across the table.

"not sure," you smiled. "maybe just a salad, i'm not very hungry," you shrugged with a smile.

"whatever you'd like," he reached across the table to hold you hand, you obliged.

but there weren't any butterflies from his touch. no electricity that lit up your insides. nothing that made you feel crazy about him as you had with spencer.

it had been 9 months since you ended things with spencer. you were dating for over a year. the two of you had never slowed down since you began. working with him made it that much more intoxicating. a forbidden workplace romance felt dangerous. at first that's why you thought you couldn't get him out of your mind. and then you realized it wasn't that. it was that it was spencer.

this was your fifth date with him. you'd been dating for three months. it had been getting more 'serious' as time went on. but your feelings for him never compared to the rollercoaster of emotions you felt for spencer.

"what're you thinking about, darling?" he asked, stroking his thumb on your hand slowly.

"nothing," you faked yet another smile.

he didn't notice.

he never did.

spencer would've.

you had ended things after getting an offer in the fugitive task force. the pay was better (not that that's why you left), and they needed you more than the team did - even though they told you otherwise. you knew you were valuable, but you also knew that they'd be fine without you - even though they told you otherwise. they told you you'd always have place with the team. so, you left. and along with leaving, spencer had claimed you took his heart with you. but you had left yours with him in return.

you couldn't feel anything for the charming man in front of you whenever spencer still had your heart.

"look, i know it's a bit early to say this," he began speaking, " i mean, we've only been together for three months. but..." you retraced your hand so he fiddled with his own. "i never knew how amazing i could feel with someone in my life romantically. i think... i think i'm in love with you."

*22 months ago*

you had been reckless. you had gone into the house without any backup yet you came out unscathed. spencer was still burning hot despite the fact that you were unharmed. he appeared at your house late the night you had returned, around 2 am.

"y/n!" he pounded on your door. "i know you're in there! open up!" he demanded. you trudged into your living room and opened the door quickly.

"what, spencer?" you spat out. "why are you here? because i know it's not to check up on me," rolling your eyes, you stepped outside with him and shut the door behind you.

"why wouldn't it be? you could've gotten killed, y/n!" he yelled, not at you but at the situation. "maybe i'm worried about you! maybe i care about your well-being! maybe i just don't want you to die!" he shouted.

he had never truly been close to you. ever since you joined 7 months ago he had maybe one conversation with you during each case, only about the case. he wasn't necessarily rude, but mostly deflective. he wouldn't carry the conversation. he replied with simple answers that prevented further conversation. he never wanted to talk with you or hang out with you unless others were there. he just... didn't like you.

but you had been so excited to meet him. penelope, one of the reasons you got the spot on the team in the first place because you'd met her in her hacker days, had talked him up quite a lot. she had also said you were a match made in heaven. you thught she was mistaken until you saw him standing in the bullpen, talking to none other than pg. imagine your disappointment when he barely spoke to you.

and since you had gotten hurt he hadn't just been dismissive. he had been rude. he had rolled his eyes at you when you were sitting across from him in the plane. he had scoffed when morgan said how tough you were for taking the unsub down alone.

and now he was outside your door as rain began pouring down.

"if you do care about me then you have a funny way of showing it," now it was your turn to scoff.

"you were reckless. how could be so foolish?" he asked in a softer tone, walking closer to you to connect his skin to yours, needing to reassure himself that you were alright.

"i wasn't foolish," you snatched your arm away from his grasp, he backed away slowly. "i had to save that little girl's life, reid. you know that i had no other choice."

"you could've gotten killed," he stated once more, holding his hands together in front of him.

"that little girl could've been killed, too," you shook your head, sighing as you pressed your fingers into your temples. "i... reid, i couldn't let that happen."

"well i couldn't... i don't know what i'd do if you had actually been hurt or-or died," he bit his lip, trying to keep himself from saying much more.

"you barely talk to me at all. this is the longest conversation we've had in all the months i've known you," you chuckled humorlessly. "you're ridiculous."

"i'm sorry," he apologized softly, almost whispering. "it's... it's complicated."

"what's complicated?" you stepped forward to get closer to him. "what's so complicated that you couldn't stand to have a real conversation with me?"

"you wouldn't understand," he shook his head, stepping back once more into the rain, turning around as if he were going to leave.

"don't-" you grabbed his bare arm. smoke. "don't walk away. not again," you shook your head. "please tell me why you couldn't stand me?"

"it's not that i couldn't stand you," he said with a sigh, turning around to meet your eyes. "it's that... well i couldn't stand how you made me feel," he admitted, grabbing your hands instead of his own. "i couldn't stand how the first time i saw you i thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world and i couldn't stand how perfect your voice is - even when you're about to cry. i couldn't stand how you're the first woman i've loved since i watched my girlfriend die in front of me."

fire.

you felt fire all over.

maybe it was because the heat you felt as your gears turned, trying to figure out how he could love you. the friction from the thoughts running through your head caused the smoke that lit the flame that burned between the two of you. a match made from heaven, the universe, whatever you believed in, in that moment.

"spencer..." the first time you'd ever called him that, his eyes bore into yours with the same fire you felt. "how could you... how could you love me when you don't even know me?"

"i know you, y/n," he smiled, tears streaming down his face being masked by the rain pouring on the two of you. "i-i know that when you get frustrated or angry you just stay quiet. i know that when you're focused you rub your fingers together. i know that when you're incredibly happy you tear up because you wonder how you deserved to be so joyful. i know that when you're feeling insecure you like to read pride and prejudice and imagine yourself living in another world... and i know that i love you."

"kiss me," you asked, trailing your hands up his arms to the back of his neck. "please... kiss me?" you asked again before he filled your request.

one of his hands grasped the hair at the back of your head, pulling you against him with a groan. you felt the passion penny had said you would've had from the beginning through his kiss. the way his tongue traveled into your mouth and wandered as if he wanted to use his eidetic memory to memorize what you tasted and felt like.

and you knew that the fire you both felt would never burn out because even in the rain, it burned brighter than ever before.

"spencer," you broke the kiss. "i love you."

*now*

"so," he had smiled. "you don't have to say it back, i completely understand if you need more time."

you felt terrible. you missed spencer. you wanted spencer. you needed spencer. not more time. you had already given him time. you gave yourself time. but no amount of time could ever diminish what you felt for spencer.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, preparing to break things off softly. "you're such an amazing guy, a total gentleman. but... but i still-"

"love the other guy," he chuckled, looking down a bit upset. "that's alright. you can't force feelings."

"i really tried," you smiled, reaching for his hand once again. "with him it was just so... passionate, and crazy, and... i'm so sorry. i wasn't trying to lead you on i just figured that over time those feelings for hi would just disappear but... they never did."

"i know, thank you for trying to feel things out with me," he smiled, knowing you could see how forced it was. "if you wouldn't mind, could we still be friends?"

"oh, of course," you squeezed his hand. "you're one of the kindest men i've ever met," you chuckled. "thank you for being so understanding, luke."

"oh, it's no problem," he shrugged off the compliment.

you finished dinner with him and he dropped you off at your apartment. you ran to your room and decided to call someone.

"hello?" the voice rang over the phone into your ear.

"hey," you sighed happily. "can i ask you for a favor?"

next thing you knew you were packing up your apartment that never felt like home. you got onto a plane and moved back home, right back into the same place. the same night you got there, you knew you had to make a stop at a certain someone's house.

you ran up the stairs of the apartment complex, up to the apartment you found to be your second home. you banged on the familiar door rapidly, anticipating his answer. when he did answer, you were already teary-eyed.

"hi," you sniffled.

"y/n?" spencer questioned. "what are you...? you moved away why are you...?"

"i missed you," you wiped the tears that were flowing down your face, pointlessly so as they continued flowing.

"you left me, y/n," he felt the water in his eyes welling up to mirror your own, stepping aside to let you inside and shutting the door behind you. "you left. not me."

"i know, spencer. i know," you sighed. "but we were- we were toxic. and we argued all the time and we screamed at each other a lot."

"so why are you here?" he spat out.

"because i miss it. i miss the screaming and fighting. i miss kissing you in the rain. i miss cursing your name at 2 am because you would beat me at chess," you cried a laugh. "i miss the way you made me feel. i miss your touch and the way-" you tried to choke back a sob. "i miss the way you held me when i'm sad and the way- the way you loved me. because that's the way i loved you."

"y/n it's been 9 months," he huffed. "why would you... i don't know how to trust you again."

"please, spencer. i'm so sorry. i'll make it up to you," you reached for his arm, rubbing your hands up and down them to ground yourself. "i'll do anything, please. i-i'll buy you a new bookshelf. i'll do your files for eight months. i'll-i'll... tell me what to do, please. i want to make it up to you if you'd let me."

"y/n..." he trailed off. "i don't know. why're you even here? you accepted a job with the fugitive task force."

"i came back to the bau," you shrugged.

"was that for me?" he asked as if you'd never do such a thing.

"i mean... partially, yea," you chuckled humorlessly, an awkward silence enveloping the room.

"you shouldn't have," he looked down at his hands.

"oh," you analyzed his body language, dropping your hands from his skin. he missed the touch already.

his arms and hands were limp, detached. his eyes held emotion, hurt, tears. his shoulders were slouched and made to look slim, small.

"i'm sorry," you bit your lip. "i-i'll just..." you motioned towards the door as you maneuvered around his body to open it yourself.

you got it halfway open before he shoved your back against it, pressing your lips against his fervently. his hands flew to your waist and pulled you closer to him, his chest still pushing against yours. it was as if he had never let that flame die down either. maybe you were on his mind 24/7 as he was yours. maybe he couldn't stop loving you either, even though he hasn't said it yet. the taste of tears on both of your tongues reminded you of the situation at hand.

"i do, too," he whispered against your lips. "love you," he read your mind. "as if i'd ever be able to stop," he sarcastically admitted. "but... how would this work? you said it yourself, we fought and argued all the time."

"we could work on communication. i've worked on bettering myself while i was away. i even did yoga," you brought your hands up to his face, pressing another peck on his lips.

"i missed you too," another kiss. "and i've tried to improve myself. i guess i just wondered why you had left so abruptly. why i never really got much of an explanation."

"and you deserved one, spencer," you ran your thumbs along his cheekbones. "you deserve the best and that's why i left. because i knew i would never really be best for you. i knew that if i had come to you and told you how i had been feeling that you'd talk me down and then i'd stay. and i know it's selfish of me to be with you right now but i couldn't stay away from you any longer. i tried to forget about you but i couldn't."

"i'm glad you couldn't forget me," he smiled against your lips as you pushed him forward onto his couch, you straddled his hips as he sat down.

"i could never," you kissed his forehead. "no matter who i met," his nose. "i couldn't get you out of my head," his cheek. "you've driven me insane," his other cheek. "because that's the way i loved you," his lips.

"i love you," he mumbled against your lips, his hands finding your waist and gripping it tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "so much."

in the words of the beloved mr. darcy, he has bewitched you body and soul and you love, love, love him. he made you completely and perfectly and incandescently happy. you were consumed by fire because of how much you loved him. you loved him in a way that possessed your soul completely, utterly blissed at the thought of him. in a way that lit your very essence to flames and transformed it - not into a phoenix rising from the ashes - but transformed it into pure, unadulterated adoration and desire.

and that's the way he loved you.

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beatleszeppelin · 3 years

Text

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #tw past child abuse #I love the lake scene

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