#This guy... He wants to keep you alive.. Which is worse.... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obsessedwrhys · 1 year ago

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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

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asha-mage · 6 months ago

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BingLiuShen au where Shen Qingqiu's fevered heteronormativity poisoned brain decides that the best way to avoid dying for the crime of being a heterosexual male in a stallion novel is to pretend not to be heterosexual and thus not a threat to the protagonist's harem. He figures if he can hit that sweet spot where his (supposed! Not real at all!) sexuality is just a quirk of the beloved mentor then the narrative will have no choice but to keep him alive. Airplane might be a hack, but he's exactly the sort of hack who would put in a token gay character, then shunt them off to the background, only to be trotted out again when he's getting flack in the comments for sexist, homophobic, and/or generally shitty writing decisions.

And for Shen Yuan, whose stated life goal is to idle away the hours in luxury and occasionally bask in Binghe's protagonisty coolness (in a very heterosexual way of course!) that would be the perfect out. There's just one problem- how does he demonstrate his (definitely fake!) homosexuality without playing into homophobic tropes and getting himself killed for offending the genre's aggressively het sensibilities?

The answer? Pretend to be pinning away silently in unrequited love for another man. It's perfect! All he has to do is drop a few extremely subtle hints in Binghe's hearing implying having feelings he would never act on for say, Liu Qingge, and he'll be golden. After all, what person attracted to men (which he isn't!) wouldn't fall immediately in love with the Bai Zhan War God? It has the added benefit of proving what a good Token Gay he is by the fact that he saved Liu Qingge's life without any expectations or hopes and without ever even revealing his (supposed!) feelings.

Shen Qingqiu gets about a week of feeling like a genius after putting this plot into motion before Liu Qingge starts showing up at Qing Jing with small gifts and pastries and asking to spar, and well. In between melting down (because how on earth did he put it together from the grand total of three entirely ambiguous hints he dropped!) and trying to stay composed (because even the straightest guy- which he is!- would get flustered by having Liu Qingge smiling at him Like That) he figures the only rational thing to do is just Commit To the Bit, resign himself to one day becoming cultivation partners with Liu Qingge and retiring together into the background of future plot shenanigans. Their are clearly no other possible ways of dealing with this situation, and hey being with Liu Qingge of all people isn't bad. That's a fan favorite character and he's stupidly handsome and brave and kind! Shen Qingqiu could do a lot worse, especially in a world like PIDW. In fact given the alternatives, Shen Qingqiu's could probably consider himself incredibly lucky. Objectively that is. From a purely 'guy trying to survive this dumb novel' point of view. It would be an honor to have Liu Qingge's arms wrapped around him. If he where into men of course.

Meanwhile you have Luo Binghe in the background of every scene the two are in with a forced smile, internally speed running the '*fork in garbage disposal noises*' to 'I just want my Shizun to be happy! I swear!' to 'actually Liu-shishu is really nice I can see what Shizun sees in him' to 'oh no I think I want to be in the Middle Of Whatever That Is' arc.

(And of course, Binghe at the end of the day IS the protagonist, and after much trial and tribulation, is supposed to get exactly what he wants...)

And all the while you have Liu Qingge, utterly oblivious to the mental anguish and gymnastics of his shidi and shizi, who just keeps turning up at Qing Jing, because he really does like Shen Qingqiu and even if that first date was his sister's idea he's found he really does enjoy spending time with Shen Qingqiu, and also Shen Qingqiu's sticky first disciple who despite the crocodile tears is actually clearly pretty strong. He has no idea that Shen Qingqiu is silently picking out drapery for the future house while Luo Binghe tries to rationalize his out of control heartbeat as a completely normal side effect of the sparring match they just fought (Which he only keeps challenging Liu-shishu to make sure he's strong enough to protect Shizun! He swears!).

WIll the three of them ever figure it out and get their act together? Sure. Will they do it before the Conference/Abyss arc upends everything? Absolutely not.

#SVSSS #SVSSS AU #scum villian self saving system #Bingliushen #liubingshen #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #luo binghe #liu qingge #the real person suffering in this situation is ming fan #who has no idea what is going anytime all three of them are in one room #but he KNOWS it's not normal and that he can't and shouldn't do anything about it #at first he's thrilled when he thinks that sqq and liu-shishu are getting together #but his approval is quickly rescinded after the first time Liu Qingge pats Binghe on the head and Bing almost starts crying

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ahsxual · 9 months ago

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What Are They Like In Bed?

Pairing: Matthew Lillard Characters x Reader

Characters: William Afton, Stu Macher, Stevo Levy, Tim Laflour & Doug Van Housen

Warnings: +18 content, minors DNI, rough sex, mentions of torture and unhealthy relationships

William Afton

William is a very rough and possessive lover in bed. His main goal is to make you cum by overstimulating and edging you over and over again. He would love to "torture" you just to hear you beg for mercy for him to stop, only to laugh at your face afterwards. He will degrade you and make you feel like a personal sex doll for his own pleasure

He isn't loud in bed, apart from a few low grunts when he's cumming, especially when it's inside you (his favorite place to cum)

His favorite position is missionary, so he can watch your face while he fucks you, and doggy style, where he can watch your pretty ass bounce with every thrust and have full control of your body as he presses your head down

He will be sweet and nice to you in public so that you feel attached to him, just to act cold between four walls. You never know which side of him you'll get, so it's always a new experience and a rush of adrenaline whenever the two of you are about to fuck

He won't mind hurting you by talking to other women his age. In fact, he will feel great that you're jealous because of him and because he can "control" your feelings. But do not, and I repeat, DO NOT do the same to him. He'll make you regret it and you'll be covered in bruises the next day if not worse lol

That being said, William is extremely possessive of you, even if he doesn't admit it because you must know that you're only his

If you're in an official relationship with him, he'll take more care of you and be more attentive to your needs, so he'll be able to make love to you if you ask beg him to. But don't forget his "true persona" and his evil nature, so his "sweet version" won't last forever

Stu Macher

Stu is a sweeter lover in bed, if you're his girlfriend. If you're not, he'll be the horniest guy you've ever met and will fuck you just to get off, so he'll be pretty annoying just to get in your pants.

He's always in the mood for it, so you better be prepared to deal with a super clingy and touchy Stu all day. He won't even mind where you guys are, he just wants to kiss and be inside you.

His favorite position is the one where he can put your legs around his shoulders to fuck you deeper while looking into your eyes, since he knows his dick is huge and it can reach places you never knew about yourself it'll hurt a bit, just so you know

His pace is pretty fast, but he isn't too rough, unless you ask for it. If you guys are dating or having a deep level of intimacy, he'll tell you about his darkest kinks in hope you'll accept them and want to experiment them as well.

Such as knife kink, chasing kink, pain kink (both sides), dacryphilia, predator/prey dynamic kink, and much more.

He'll want you to have sex with Billy too eventually, with Stu still present obviously, just to prove to Billy what a good girl you are and how lucky he is to have you for himself also to have an excuse to be more intimate with Billy lmao

BUT, if you ever find out about his double life and even then you stayed loyal and accepted him, or even want to join them, Stu will kill and die for you without blinking an eye, if necessary. He'll do anything for you and your sex will be even more... thrilling

Stevo Levy

We all know that Stevo is all about rebellion, drugs and sex. Those are the three things he needs in his life to feel alive and give life some meaning.

Stevo is actually a great lover as long as you guys keep your relationship unofficial and stay faithful to each other!! From his countless experiences, he's great in bed, always making you feel sexy and valued by kissing and worshipping every part of your body.

He'll fuck you anywhere, whether it's at parties, at a friend's house, in a hidden spot in the middle of the street that he's found, literally anywhere. And he won't give two fucks if you guys get caught, and will fight whoever makes you feel uncomfortable or makes nasty comments about you.

His kisses are sloppy and wet, especially when he's high or drunk, so by the end of the night you'll be covered in his spit. In the beginning, his sex is primal and he will fuck you like he needs it to stay alive, which means there'll be sweat, hickeys and your sore pussy in the next morning.

You'll also notice a change in your sexual encounters the moment he falls in love with you: he'll be more sweet, his pace will be more slow and sensual, and your pleasure will always come first rather than his, even if it means he doesn't get to come. He wouldn't tell you that he's falling for you, but you would find out when Bob and Mike told you he had been acting weird lately and by the fact that he had beaten the shit out of a guy who was flirting with you at a party.

Also, he's a switch in bed, if you tease him enough ;)

Tim Laflour

Sex with Tim is a very polemical topic, as we all know. Ever since he began to commit to his pledge, it was a bit challenging to convince him to make sex with you... but only at the beginning.

You're too irresistible for him to reject his sexual needs, so after one month of dating, he begged you on his knees to just taste and eat you out he literally cried. There's no penetration , so it doesn't count as actual sex, right?

After that "incident", you began to tease him more to get what you wanted. To be intimate with your boyfriend, there's nothing wrong with that. And believe me when I tell you it worked perfectly.

Tim is probably the most attentive, caring and loving partner you'll ever have in bed and in general. He can't be extremely rough or mean with you, it's all just pure love and tenderness with him. He would probably die from sadness and regret if he ever hurt you.

Before you started dating him, he was more dominant and wanted to prove to you that he was good in bed. Now that you've been dating for months, he's mostly a sub in the bedroom, loving the way you dominate him and make him beg for release.

But don't get me wrong, because in moments when he's feeling desperate, he won't let you have your way and will actually fuck you instead of making sweet, sensual love. He will apologize afterwards if he was too rough and the aftercare will be perfect.

This big boy loves quickies, especially if you're both stoned or drunk at your closest friend's house. On those occasions, his pace is very fast, as if he was losing his virginity to a goddess and couldn't control his sexual desires, and he grabs you as if you might run away from him. In the end, you always laugh at how cute, desperate, and clingy he was with you.

LISTEN, this boy right here has a hockey player/cheerleader role-play kink. He goes crazy when you dress up as a semi-naked cheerleader and ride him, telling him how such a good boy he was and that he deserved a reward for winning the game. BUT, if his team loses, you've discovered one thing that turns his sadness into excitement... and that being said, Tim never leaves a game upset anymore, regardless of the result, because he knows that has soon as you get home, you're going to peg him until he begs you to let him come. YES, he's definitely into pegging.

The fact that he has a piercing on his penis and probably on his nipples too, it can add extra fun in sex, since he is very sensitive on those specific spots. Whenever you play with his piercings, expect him to cum within a few minutes. He's also the loudest in the bedroom ;))

Doug Van Housen

Lord have mercy on you if you want to have sex with Doug Van Housen. He's the definition of destruction in sex, and if you're into pain and hard BDSM, then he's the right lover for you.

If you're not officially dating and it's just sex between you two, prepare to be constantly bruised and sore. He will use you as his sex doll, only for his pleasure and won't care much if he hurts you.

He gets turned on by your cries, your pain, your vulnerability, devotion and loyalty towards him, the way you give him the power to control and abuse you. But even then, you won't be able to see his softer side ever if he doesn't have real feelings for you.

If he does have feelings for you somehow, things will be a bit... different. He will be a bit more affectionate (not too much, just kisses and possessive side hugs) and focus more on your pleasure.

He won't stop fucking you until he made you cum several times and you don't have energy to simply get up. He enjoys the exhaustion he causes you, edging you first countless times, which means he did a great job in pleasuring you.

He'll want to mark and carve his initials on your soft skin, just so you know who you belong to and never forget it... as if you would ever forget, but "just in case your silly pussy decides to misbehave its master", he would say.

He's probably the kinkiest and most perverse of them all, and the one with the darkest fantasies too. He sees you only as his property, and won't hesitate to torture anyone who tries to take you away from him. But no one smart enough will challenge him if they have the will to live.

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steddielations · 1 year ago

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Steve acts on instinct.

There’s this guy in all black walking in front of him, he’s too busy looking down at his phone to notice, but Steve doesn’t trust that lamppost. He’s been going for daily runs, he likes to keep it simple during the off-season, and that post has been getting more rickety every day. Now it’s swaying dangerously in the wind and he knows it’s about to tumble.

There’s no time to call out to the guy, so Steve just plows forward and tackles him out of the way.

They fall in a messy heap and Steve unfortunately lands heavily on top.

“Holy shit! What the— ugh!” The guy heaves in pain and Steve hurries to scramble off of him.

“Sorry, that post was about to fall on you, man. You alright?”

Pieces of grass stick to the guy’s long hair as he takes stock of Steve and what happened. With a labored breath, he surprisingly jokes, “Guess I’m lucky the best football tackler alive happened to be right behind me.”

It’s sarcastic as shit but Steve smiles with a tug of amusement as he offers his hand. “Baseball, actually.”

“You’re in the wrong league, man,” he lets Steve pull him to his feet and groans on the way up. “Well, nice to meet you, Baseball, you pack a hell of a first impression. I’m Eddie.”

Steve would appreciate his ability to joke so soon after taking a hit, but people are starting to gather around. There’s already phones pointed at them that probably caught the whole thing on camera. Steve’s used to public attention by now, knows the press is going to have a field day with this and he hates causing a scene, but he wants to make sure Eddie is okay.

“Just Steve is good. You wanna…? This way,” he gestures toward the sidewalk and thankfully, Eddie seems just as eager to get out of there too, shuffling next to Steve as they round the corner.

He’s wearing so much metal jewelry, it’s like a costume, the jingle jangle of his every step accentuating how shaken up he seems. They get far enough behind a building and Steve stops to have a real look at him and… well he’s interesting to look at.

It’s like he hopped off the album cover of an 80s rock band, or one of Steve’s Bon Jovi posters that he hid under his bed in high school. Way too much leather and way too much hair for the California sun, all disheveled with grass and dirt.

“You sure you’re okay? Here, you got a little…” Steve’s hand hovers until Eddie nods that it’s okay from him to pluck the grass from his hair and lightly brush the dust from his shoulders. Eddie watches him the whole time, his eyes big and dark, an intensity in them that Steve can’t quite read but he can feel. “Didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?”

Steve lowers his hands, stepping back a little when he realizes how close they are. Eddie’s eyes follow him, a slight quirk to his lips that makes Steve feel the heat of the sun a little warmer on his face.

“I’m touched by your concern, sweetheart, but my brain has been through worse damage than a little bump.”

Steve frowns at the ladder, but the first bit definitely makes him feel the heat. He’s admittedly a bit out of practice but he can still recognize a come on. One that he definitely invited with all the touching and indulgent looks.

Then Eddie starts profusely thanking him for the whole ordeal, asking to treat him somewhere nearby for lunch. It’s not that Steve doesn’t want to, he’s very interested actually, and thankful that out of all the jewelry Eddie’s sporting, there’s no wedding ring. That’s why he’s reluctant because he’s all sweaty at the moment. Not to mention, he didn’t finish his run yet.

“Surely saving my life was enough cardio,” Eddie jokes lightly and Steve snorts.

“I saved you from a minor concussion, maybe,” and okay he’s gotta accept now.

The place is small and unassuming, burgers and sodas type joint. Steve’s likely to be recognized there, which he doesn’t mind meeting fans in public just preferably not now, it might be jarring for Eddie.

He heads for the booth tucked in the back corner, the most private looking spot that Steve had his eyes on too. They get a round of sodas from the waitress and right away, Eddie starts thanking him again.

“I noticed that lamppost wobbling days ago,” Steve sparks a conversation instead of accepting any more thanks, “I was planning to let it fall on me so I could sue the shit out of the city.”

He’s pleasantly startled by the big cackle that gets out of Eddie, “Any chance to stick it to the man. I admire that.”

“‘Course I would’ve really stuck it to ‘em and donated it back to the community,” Steve adds.

“Giving the people’s money back to the people, imagine Big Brother’s horror. Noble guy.”

Eddie seems to bubble with contagious delight that doesn’t match his whole leather and chains thing at all, but it fits into the somewhat magic of him. It's a wonder to Steve.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Eddie ventures, a glint of recognition in his eyes that Steve’s seen a thousand times. He doesn’t ping Eddie as much of a sports guy and he’s not vain enough to assume everyone knows who he is. Eddie’s probably seen him while flipping the channel past ESPN or something. Or maybe an ad for that Netflix thing he did documenting last year’s season.

“I think I’d definitely remember you.”

Steve didn’t mean it as a come-on, just that Eddie’s appearance really isn’t forgettable, but he can tell by the wicked little grin Eddie sports that it was taken as one. Steve likes that even better.

“Have you ever modeled, or anything? You’ve got the looks for it.”

Biting back a smile of his own, Steve shakes his head. “I bet you say that to everyone who saves your life.”

“None of them were half as good looking." That sounds concerning but Steve’s distracted by Eddie swirling his straw in his drink, regarding him with a long look. “Really though, I just feel like I’ve seen you before.”

Steve’s done a few covers of Sports Illustrated, but he doubts Eddie has ever picked up a copy of that, so he shrugs. “Must’ve been in your dreams.”

Eddie laughs softer this time. “You trying to sweep me off my feet or something?”

“Already did.” Steve leans back, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes follow him.

Conversation sparks and it never really dies out. Eddie just grabs topics out of thin air, talking about the city and what they like to do and movies and his amazement that Steve knows all about D&D because he’s a nerd magnet. Eddie’s personality spills through everything he says like it can’t be contained. He’s talkative in a good way, not to a point where Steve can’t get a word in. He listens intently, has a way of putting all his attention onto Steve like he’s the most interesting person he’s ever spoken to.

It’s surprisingly easy to relax. Not because Eddie has a super calming presence or anything, his energy is just all-encompassing, it’s hard for Steve not to get sucked in and hang on to every word he says. It’s one of the rare times in public that he’s not hyper-aware of everyone around him and too paranoid of having a photo snapped and taken out of context to even enjoy himself.

That happens a lot, being one of the only professional athletes who’s open about his sexuality. The media is extremely invasive with his private life. If he’s seen with any guy friend, there’s a whole press storm about Steve Harrington’s “secret beau” within the hour. It’s ridiculous and he tries so hard to keep his lovelife under wraps that maybe he’s been neglecting it entirely, at least that’s what Robin says.

Of course, that’s when his phone lights up with a message from her. His heart sinks a little when he sees the title of the article she sent to him. He quickly shoots her a text and locks his phone without reading it.

“Everything alright?�� Eddie notices the shift in Steve’s mood right away.

“Yeah just,” he sighs, bracing for the inevitable part when Eddie realizes Steve isn’t worth the hassle of all this, “Someone filmed us earlier and now it’s all over the press. I’m really sorry, I totally get it if—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I figured that would happen,” Eddie brushes it off, but Steve shakes his head.

“I don’t think you understand, it’s—”

“Wanna bet?” Eddie smirks for some reason, “I’m fine with it, I promise.”

He tosses a chip into his mouth and picks right back up with the story he was telling.

Steve is stunned for a moment, wary that maybe Eddie doesn’t fully grasp how deep this goes. But he stays there with Steve, seemingly thrilled to keep talking with him even when a family comes in and keeps staring their way, obviously building up the courage to come over and ask for a picture. Eddie’s acting like Steve’s the only person in the room and that’s enough to assure Steve that he’s really fine with it.

He’s so locked into Eddie, he barely registers when the older son from the family’s table finally wanders over and asks for a picture.

Steve is in the middle of wiping his face with a napkin, about to greet him when suddenly, Eddie pops up and asks Steve to excuse him for a minute.

“C’mon little man, let’s do it,” he says and much to Steve’s confusion, the teen excitedly goes with Eddie to his family’s table.

Steve watches, utterly baffled, as they start snapping photos and expressing what big fans they are and Eddie takes it with such bravado, laughing and chatting like he’s with a group of friends.

What the— Steve grabs his phone, opening the article Robin sent him at lightning speed.

At first, he wonders how the press was able to find out Eddie’s full name so quickly, then he sees the words "troubled rockstar" and "recovering star" so many times, it becomes abundantly clear.

Oh.

He’s not so worried about the troubled part, everyone has their shit and he doesn’t read into any of it. Those are Eddie’s stories to tell Steve if he chooses, not some tabloid. But the rockstar part connects a lot of dots that have come up in the last couple of hours since meeting Eddie and—

Yeah, just. Oh.

Part 2

#what if they’re both secretly famous and clueless about each other #this is called ‘Upstaged’#part two soon #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #rockstar eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #famous steve harrington #meet cute #saved your life trope #famous eddie munson #rueswriting

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revelboo · 3 months ago

Note

Could I get the constructicons caring for a sick human? I’m sick sobbing through uni assignments right now and wishing I had a possy of mechs to take care of me :(((

make sure to keep your immune system strong- don’t make my mistake ☠️

Oh, no! Hope you feel better soon!

Scenario-Sick

Constructicons x Reader

• Hearing the little noise you’d called a sneeze, Scavenger tenses as Bonecrusher heads right for him. “Bonecrusher, I don’t fragging bend that way,” Scavenger hisses as his brother grabs the edge of his scoop and tugs him down so he’s bent backwards. All so Bonecrusher can check on you in your nest of blankets and pillows curled up in his scoop. While he’s honored you’d chosen him as your default comfortable place to nap, it’s less flattering with Bonecrusher constantly mauling him to get to you. Especially with you sick, because hearing Hook say he couldn’t help has them all on edge.

• Head lifting tiredly as you suppress another sneeze, you blink up at Bonecrusher as he offers you a bottle of warm ginger ale and a can of chicken noodle soup. Well. He’s trying at least. “Thank you, sweetheart,” you manage amid a coughing fit, taking the stuff from him so you don’t hurt his feelings and adding it to the pile. Though if he brings you any more stuff, you’re not going to be able to lay down. Don’t know where they’re getting this stuff and honestly, you probably don’t want to know. Boxes of Kleenex, bags of lozenges, advil, DayQuil and who knew what else is piled up around you. It looks like one of them kicked a wall down in a pharmacy and just grabbed whatever they could reach. Which probably isn’t too far off.

• Holding Scavenger still, Bonecrusher reaches in to rub a servo against your jaw. Spark aching when you sneeze again, little frame jerking with it and he hates this. Hates not being able to fix this. Rumbling when you reach up to lay a hand on his servo, eyes closing. Maybe he should get you more stuff? Hook had researched human illnesses after you’d insisted it was just a cold. Said this stuff would help, but you look so pale and exhausted still. “Need anything?” Something for him to do to help? Anything?

• Hears you tiredly telling Bonecrusher that you just need rest and Hook nudges Scrapper. Their leader shooting him a tired look that he completely understands. How many times have they had to gently coax Bonecrusher into letting you sleep already? “Come on, big guy,” Scrapper growls, grabbing Bonecrusher’s elbow. ‘Let them sleep,’ Hook adds, tone annoyed and impatient. And Bonecrusher protests as they patiently lead him away knowing it won’t be a breem before the big mech thinks of something else you desperately need and goes to pester you again. Long Haul and Mixmaster just as bad as he spots the latter headed your way with more pillows to dump in on you. For Primus’s sake they’re worse than sparklings, though he understands their worry. Feels it twisting through him, too.

• Going to intercept Mixmaster before he can try to bury you alive in pillows, Hook glances at Scavenger and his scoop. Knows you’re fine. That this just needs to run its course, but right now he hates your messy organic immune system. Hates not being able to help you when you’re so miserable and they’re all looking to him even though he’s told them there’s nothing he can do. But when you’re better? He’s going to lay you down among all those pillows and fill you over and over. Let his nanites have a chance to get established and bolster your immune system so he doesn’t have to go through this again.

#transformers x reader #constructicons x reader #bonecrusher #tf hook #tf scrapper #tf scavenger

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goorgeousz · 2 months ago

Text

devoted | aaron hotchner

18+

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader summary: hotch comes home tired from another draining case. luckily, you’re always there to greet him with a drink and the tiniest dress you own. content/tw: unprotected sex, (p in v) sex, oral sex (male receiving), foreplay, assplay (nothing much), dom!hotch, sub!reader, word count: 3k a/n: I was so excited to write this one, it was one of my first hotch x reader ideas, long before I started to write here! I ended up loving wifey!reader so much more than I thought, I want to write more about her if you guys want me to <3 truly hope you love her as much as I do. main masterlist

The closer he got home, the more his heartbeat rose.

It had been an exhausting case, physically and emotionally. The team spent almost a week in that small city, not knowing who to trust and what to do. A typical series of homicides turned out to be the work of the city’s police enforcement corruption. They were working side by side with their enemies without even knowing. Every passing day they were alive was a win.

So now, days with barely two meals a day and little to no sleep, he was finally getting to rest. He could feel his own body tensed, the grip on the steering wheel almost deathly.

It was surprising, really. Even after years together, coming back home was always that big of a deal. Suddenly he felt every knot of tension on his back, the weight of the lack of sleep and the fact that his latest meals were bbq flavored chips and the cheap coffee they had on the plane.

With his car perfectly parallel-parked, Hotch steps towards the doorway so hurried it almost seemed like he was late for something. Some very important deal that had to be made at exactly 10:24 p.m.

And when he unlocked the door, there you were.

His work-scowl instantly melted at the sight. You were heading towards the entrance with your teeny tiny slip dress, covered with its matching robe, the expensive fabric adorning your curves like you were a sculpture. Your hair falling like a halo around your face, bouncing hypnotizingly as you moved around the room.

He lived for that ear-to-ear smile of yours, the glint in your eyes ever so endearing as you walked to him with a perfectly made glass of scotch. Yes, life could be worse.

“Baby!” you greeted, coming closer to hand him his glass and give him a peck on the lips — as you always did.

His features were softer but still serious and urgent when he took the scotch glass off your hands and placed it on the little wooden table by the door, together with his leather briefcase and go-bag. You gave him a puzzled look, which vanished as soon as he placed his hand on your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

You melted on his arms, hugging him by the neck and pulling him even closer to you. He deepened the kiss and roamed his hands down to your waist under the robe, firmly keeping you flushed against him.

His tongue was warm and demanding, like he wanted to inspect every single inch of you from inside out. You hummed against him, relieved, passionate and eager.

The kiss went on until both of you ran out of breath, pulling apart but still pecking each other’s lips, still not ready to be separated.

Your heavy breathing matched his as he pulled back completely, but kept his arms around you on a tight hug. His features completely relaxed now, an adoring smile dancing on his lips and his eyes glistening in devotion while he took in the sight of you. Your swollen lips, slightly blushing cheeks and glossy eyes being his favorite sight.

You never got used to the way he looked at you. Hotch was a busy man, you knew from the start where you were getting yourself into, but whenever you were together, you had his full and undivided attention. It could be kind of overwhelming. You loved every second of it.

“Hi” you whispered sheepishly, biting your lip to contain your giddy smile.

“Hi, Love” he whispered back, his smile matching yours. You quickly scanned his face, feeling relieved that it didn’t have any apparent scars.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, forcing your voice to not come out as needy and whiny as you felt. His gaze dropped to your chest, where your short white nightgown did a poor job at covering your breasts.

“Very.” he murmured, opposingly to you, not trying to mask the desire in his voice.

You felt your face burn more in desire than in shyness. Shaking your head slightly to sober up, you detangled yourself from his embrace, giggling at his flirting “First of all, get your hands off of me.” you joked in amusement.

“My least favorite words” he groaned, rolling his eyes, but letting you go. You reached his glass again and waited for him to go back and lock the door properly.

“Go get yourself comfortable,” you handed him his glass “ and I'll finish off dinner.”

“You shouldn’t have waited for me.” he pointed, following suit behind you.

“And miss the little moaning you do when you taste my food? Not a chance.” you teased, and he just rolled his eyes.

“You look mesmerizing.” he said, stepping closer and sneaking his arms around you again. You blushed — again, like a schoolgirl.

“Stop it, Aaron.”

“Complementing my wife? Over my dead body. You look beautiful, honey. Like always.” he said, looking at you deeply the way he knew it only made you shyer.

You leaned in and gave him a little peck on the lips, pushing away from him again “Stop distracting me, we need to eat. You taste like burnt coffee and I know that was your lunch.” you pointed your perfectly done nail at him. He rolled his eyes again.

“So after we’re done can you please let me put my hands back on you?” he pleaded with his mock-serious tone.

“Oh, baby, after we’re done I’ll expect you to put much more than your hands back on me.” you winked, heading towards the kitchen and leaving a stunned Hotchner trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “By the way, you’ll pick up Jack on Sunday at ten and take him to brunch.” you said, already deep in your cooking.

“Yes ma’am.” he decided not to comment on how you used his son — who was safely and innocently spending a weekend at his friend’s lake house — as a shield to his teasing.

You chuckled at his response “I wish all those bad guys you hunt down could see you when you get home. Which reminds me,” you pointed the silver spoon you were holding towards him, who sat on the stool in front of the kitchen’s balcony, suit jacket off, drinking his scotch and watching you roam around the kitchen “You barely told me anything about the case, you know I love to hear it.”

He chuckled and said “You’ll see just why” before he started to get into the whole long story, filled with every detail he could remember – just how you liked it – just stopping to help you get the food and go to the dining room.

You listened attentively, asking all the right questions and gasping exactly how he expected you too, like he always did after a case. He spoke so passionately about his job, you eventually started falling in love with it too – as much as one can – and relished with his stories like you were there right by his side.

“Hmm, this tastes heavenly” he said right after the first bite, and you laughed, bumping your knee against his. You kept the conversation going at the dining table, seated the same way you always did, since day one: Hotch seated by your side, never in front of you. It was silly, but it made you so happy and giddy that he couldn’t find it in himself to sit anywhere else. And he got to touch your thigh much more easily, which was always a benefit.

You kept talking during the whole meal. After he told you his case, you told him about the last few days. A long time ago you used to feel ashamed about how uneventful your life was, especially compared to his. But Hotch always made sure to engage in your stories just as much as you engaged in his, asking you details and listening attentively at every word, pause and expression you gave him.

You watch him roll up his sleeves after dinner, not letting you touch a single dish filling up the dishwasher perfectly. With everything in its place, you headed towards the couch, not wanting to spend a second apart from him.

As his wife, you understood his obligations on his job – you had to – and respected just fine all the time he had to spend away. But one could only do so much. As soon as he got home, free from his obligations – never for long enough – you wanted to be with him in any and every possible way.

So that’s how you found yourself seated comfortably on your husband’s lap, facing him and brushing your nails through his hair, while his hands roamed up and down your thighs, hips and waist in a repetitive pattern.

“Do we have any plans for this weekend?”

“Oh yes, we have a very busy weekend.” he nodded mockingly-seriously, mimicking the playful tone you used.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Tell me.”

“We’re turning off our alarms, first of all. We’re not leaving our bed until you get at least eight hours of sleep. That’s not up to debate. We’ll have all meals on the dining table, together. There will be some naps here and there. Maybe watch a movie? Read a book? That’s up to debate. Oh, and we’re having sex too. A lot of it.”

He stopped his fingers on your knees and glanced up at you, his eyes darkening almost immediately “A lot, you said?”

“Mhmm.” you leaned in, your nose only one inch away from him “A l-o-t.” and then leaned back, shrugging in fake dismissiveness “Well, at least the much you can handle with all that age of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning back on the couch and looking up at you with boredom and annoyance.

“I mean, I always knew what I was getting into when I married someone that much older than me. Those years are catching up with you and it’s normal that you can’t fully match my young energy and stamina levels, and we…” your voice failed when his hands slid under your dress, tracing the edge of your underwear.

“You were saying…” he insisted, arching an eyebrow with an amused expression.

“Uh. What?” you muttered, your brain only focused on the feeling of his fingers tracing patterns on the top of your clothered center, too close yet too distant from where you really wanted him.

“Tell me about how I can’t handle you. I really want to hear it.” he demanded, his smirk teasing but his eyes completely darken in desire.

“Aaron, baby. I don’t want to. Please.” you managed to say, starting to move your hips to get more pressure against his fingers than his feather-like touches.

“You’re going to keep talking. And I don’t want to see you stutter until I make you come. Understood?” his smirk completely vanished now.

“No, Aaron, please.” you whined, and he withdrew his fingers immediately.

“Still won’t say it?” his voice didn’t give you space to argue.

“I was saying that I have more stamina than… Oh, yes!” he touched you again, now with more pressure “And that we should maybe take it easy bec… because… oh!” you gasped as he pushed your panties to the side, his fingers played with your bare core, finally giving you some relief.

“So wet already. Good girl. But stop stuttering.” he commanded as you rolled your hips with his praise.

“Because you can’t… oh shit. Can’t hurt your back. Fuck, yes. I’m just taking… taking care of you.” you panted, rolling your hips as he trusted his fingers in and out of you, his heel pressing directly on your clit making you almost see stars.

“Hmm. You always take such good care of me, right, honey?”

“Yes! Su..uch good ca… care.”

“Bet you knew from the start I would thirst over that little dress. Didn’t you?”

“Mhm. Put it on just for you.” you whispered, not trusting your voice to speak louder without it cracking.

“So beautiful, greeting me back like that. Did you miss me?”

“Yes, Aaron. God, I missed you so much.”

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”

“No! I didn’t. I promise.” he nodded, believing you.

“Such a devoted wife I got. Do you think you deserve to come now? I can feel you’re close.” you looked desperately at him with heavy eyes, your movements starting to get sloppy and uncoordinated.

“Yes, I do. I’ve been good.” you begged, your eyes starting to water. “Please.”

“Go on, honey. Come for me.” not even a second after he finished saying it you started to come, the 6 days build-up intensifying your orgasm to the point your vision went blurry and your feet cramped. He rode out your climax, his fingers moving in you until he felt you relax completely.

You rested your forehead on his chest trying to steady your breathing. You felt his torso shake, and you glanced up just to see him chuckling at you. “You good?”

The rush of desire and love you felt towards him almost took you out at the sight. He leaned back on the couch, his face a few inches from yours. His hair already disheveled from your fingers, his dark circles being enough evidence of how tired he really was. His cheeks slightly pink from arousal combined with the gleam of adoration in his eyes being your favorite look on him. No matter what happened at his job, whenever he came back home he was all and entirely yours.

So, instead of chiming in with his teasing, you gripped on the collar of his shirt and met him with a kiss even hungrier than before. He hummed inside your mouth, instantly matching your pace and intensity. Even though you were on top of him, his tongue still managed to keep control of you, invading your mouth and skillfully tearing you apart.

You only pulled back when you were out of breath, your nose still touching his “God, I love you so much.” he grinned “If I knew that was all you needed, I would’ve done it as soon as I walked in.” he reveled on the giggled you let out in response “You always take such good care of me, Aaron” you managed to say so out of breath your voice started to give out.

He gulped, his hands gripping tightly your hips to try and restrain himself from fucking you senseless. You knew how much he loved to feel you at his mercy. “Please, let me repay you. I need you so much.” you begged, not even trying to mask the desperation in your voice.

“Do you have something in mind?” he asked, his voice already hoarse with desire. You bit your lip and rolled your hips forward, humming when you felt his hard on against your core. He groaned with the feeling, tilting his head back. “I had a few days to think about it.” you said, lowering your hands down to his pants and avidly taking off his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

You didn’t waste any time in pulling his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock and lower yourself on him, earning a hiss from him “Eager, aren’t we?” he smirked, his chest rising and falling “Fuck, I’ve missed being inside you.” you moaned in response, feeling his thick veiny cock stretch you open.

He took off your robe while you bounced up and down on him, watching in awe your cheeks flushed and your glossy eyes, he bit back a smirk knowing you would soon be too tired to keep riding him on yourself “Keep going.” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, but didn’t say anything back. The effort would be too much.

Hotch gripped the hem of your slip dress, and you raised your arms for him to pull it off of you. But before he could take it all the way out he stopped, bunching the silky fabric around your neck like a collar, and kept it there, leaning back again on the couch to watch you struggle while keeping his grip on your makeshift collar.

You bit your lower lip at that, loving the control he had over you “Aaron…” you started, the ache on your legs starting to be too much. He pretended to not understand “Hm?” “Please.” “Anything, beautiful. Just name it.” you groaned, sweat glowing on your forehead “My legs… I can’t.” “Can’t what?” he asked, his tone less teasing and more commanding, and it was all you needed to just give it to him “Aaron, my legs are too tired. Help me, please.” you whined, stopping completely your movements.

His mouth twitched in an evil and mischievous smirk, “Figured. I got you, honey.” and let go of your dress, both his hands sliding down to your hips, spreading your asscheks in a tight grip and raising you up, his thrusting meeting you halfway in a desperate pace. You moan loudly at his force, each of his thrusts making him go deeper and hitting you stop deliciously “Stop fucking clenching.” he commanded through grittet teeth, his eyes closing with pleasure.

“I can’t… fuck… too close.” you cried between moans and whines, and he groaned in response “Wanna feel you coming around me. I know just what you need” his hand reached back around you, his thumb pressing tightly on your butthole. Not properly fingering you, just pressing down on it. Your legs trembled instantly at the feeling, and it didn’t take any long until you were coming again, your vision backed out and babbling nonsense “I’m coming, shit.” he muttered and you whispered with your lips glued to his ear, still riding your orgasm “Please, baby, feel me up. I need it so back. Fuck”.

He came inside of you with a long and dragged moan, the sound and the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you making your eyes flutter close. As both of you rode out your orgasms, you laid with your head on his chest, listening to his loud and strong heartbeat, a smile creeping upon your face.

You were home. And so was he.

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fardwader · 1 month ago

Text

you’re too good to me (and you know it, too) pt. 1

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: For some unknown reason, Peter Parker cannot stop finding new, inventive ways to humiliate himself in front of you.

And for some reason, you keep helping him up anyway.

Or, the 5 times you save Peter— and the 1 time he saves you.

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

a/n: binge-watched the entire rom-com catalogue on netflix and now its everyone's problem. also literally my first completed fic, pls be kind. wordcount: 1.6k

tags: 5+1 fic, slow burn, friends to lovers, reader is annoyingly oblivious, peter is a sad dork, no use of y/n, sarcastic peter and an even more sarcastic reader, multi part, past gwen and peter, not canon compliant

(one)

The only thing Peter feels right now is the searing cold of linoleum against his cheek as he lies sprawled in a random frat house bathtub, gangly limbs bent every which way.

The room is spinning. Makes sense— he did just drink half his weight in shitty beer handed to him by some guy named Brian. Or Ryan.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

What does matter, though, is that his girlfriend— ex–girlfriend, love of his life, the sun in his sky, Gwen Stacy, is three thousand miles away in a cozy apartment in London.

Very much not here.

They finally broke things off. Mutually— he likes to clarify— because long distance just didn’t make sense.

Different priorities. Different goals. It was the logical decision.

Which, Peter thinks, is exactly why it hurts so much.

There was no dramatic fight. No screaming in the rain. No broken dishes or slammed doors. Just talking. Calm, quiet talking, with the occasional tear or two. But it was all so civil.

So reasonable.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

Maybe he wanted a fight, for her to throw everything to the wind and just jump into his arms. But that didn’t happen.

He groans, vaguely convinced he’s going to throw up, until the bathroom door creaks open.

He doesn’t have enough self-control— or, honestly, any dignity— to announce that this hiding place is currently occupied.

So he keeps lying there. Wallowing. Face pressed to the cold and probably filthy bathtub.

“Oh my god.”

Yep. That tracks.

He can feel his face flush. Not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the sheer mortification at the fact that someone just caught him mid-existential spiral in a frat house tub.

“Are you… Okay?” the voice asks again, tentative now.

Peter twists his head awkwardly— still not bothering to lift himself from his slumped position— in a way that he thinks is probably going to give him a stiff neck in the morning.

What he sees when he finally blinks the world into focus is... unexpected.

A girl, a college girl– you.

You look reasonable, at least more put together than he is. You’re holding a Solo cup in one hand, and in the other a pair of heels dangling by the lacy straps.

Your face is twisted in concern. Genuine concern.

That, somehow, is the most embarrassing part.

Peter attempts a thumbs-up, but in his drunken state, it misses— his hand goes limb flopping back onto his chest.

“Right,” you mutter. “You’re, like, three bad decisions away from alcohol poisoning.”

He squints up at you, eyes straining against the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights.

They wrap around your head like a halo, he chuckles to himself.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m going to get you some water. And maybe an Advil, also maybe like some wipes— I’m pretty sure that bathtub floor is housing at least three different types of STD’s”

Peter groans. “Do you have a time machine instead? I’d rather go back six months and break up with Gwen first, or at least stuff myself in her suitcase and be smuggled into London.”

You pause in the doorway, looking at him as if you're trying to figure out if he’s kidding or just that pathetic.

“Okay, bathtub boy,” you say, “try to stay alive for the next five minutes.”

And then you’re gone.

Peter closes his eyes again, hoping the spinning will stop if he just lies still long enough.

Though, for some reason— tucked under the haze and the fog— he wants to follow you, but his limbs are heavy like they're being weighed down with sandbags.

He lies there for what feels like a millennium.

You’re realistically only gone for the five minutes you said you would be— but it feels like it stretches into forever.

The door creaks open again.

Peter peeks one eye open and groans dramatically, just in case it’s the Grim Reaper coming to collect his soul.

It’s not.

It’s you. Backlit by LED lights, holding a bottle of water, a crumpled paper towel, and something that looks suspiciously like a granola bar.

“Wow, you’re still alive,” you observe.

“Barely,” he croaks, reaching feebly for the water in a way that reminds you of a sad cartoon mouse. “Is this heaven?”

You ignore that.

Instead, you hand him the water and crouch beside the tub with a quiet sigh that says you didn’t sign up for this, but now it’s your problem anyway.

He cracks open the cap and downs the entire bottle in a few desperate gulps. Then leans back against the cool porcelain, eyes fluttering shut.

You hand him the granola bar.

He blinks at it.

“I’m not sure I remember how to chew,” he says gravely.

“You’ll remember,” you say. “Or you’ll choke. Honestly, either one would be kind of on brand for tonight.”

Peter grins at that. It’s weak and crooked and way too pleased with itself for someone curled up like roadkill in a tub.

“Are you always this nice to strangers, or am I just special?”

You laugh— short, incredulous.

“Actually, I came in here to hide from the hivemind of frat boys outside, but found a catatonic college boy whining about his ex, face down in a disgusting frat house bathtub.”

Peter winces. “Low blow.”

“You earned it.”

He takes a bite of the granola bar and immediately regrets it— it tastes like cardboard.

Still, he chews.

You sit on the toilet lid, elbow perched atop your knee and cheek pressed against your fist, like you're holding the world’s most reluctant intervention.

The party thumps distantly through the walls— muffled bass and sloppy laughter, like the world didn’t just end because Gwen Stacy went on that plane.

Peter swallows, then leans his head back again, sighing. “This was not how I imagined my Friday going.”

“Yeah, me neither. I just came here for the free booze and ended up playing Florence Nightingale to a boy in a bathtub.”

Peter lifts a finger. “Man. I’m technically a man.”

You stare blankly. “You’re drinking lukewarm Bud Lite and crying about your ex. You are, at best, a man-shaped boy.”

He opens his mouth to argue. Stops. Nods.

“Fair.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then— softly— “She’s really gone, huh?”

You look at him. “Your ex?”

He nods. “Gwen. She’s in London now. Doing grad school. Being brilliant, changing the world– without me. I told her it was okay. That we’d both move on. And I meant it. I still mean it. It just…”

“…still sucks,” you finish.

He looks at you. Grateful. Like maybe the bathtub isn’t the loneliest place in the world anymore.

“Yeah,” he says. “It really does.”

You smile, gently this time. “Well. At least you’ve got granola.”

Peter chuckles, the sound rough but real. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

The next morning, Peter wakes up to the smell of coffee.

Which is wild, because he was fully prepared to never smell again. Or move again. Or be alive, really.

He blinks one eye open. Immediately regrets it. The sunlight coming through the window is way too aggressive for someone whose blood-to-beer ratio is still questionable.

There’s a blanket draped over him— suspiciously soft, and cozy— and a pillow that definitely didn’t belong in a frat house, actually, he’s pretty sure the frat boys in Delta Kappa Tau didn’t own any form of pillow covering whatsoever.

Also, the couch beneath him smells like vanilla fabric softener and, thankfully, not frat boy sweat.

So not a frat house, nice solve Peter.

Panic sets in.

He shoots upright way too fast and instantly regrets it. The room spins.

From somewhere behind him, a voice says, “Easy, Nosferatu. You’re safe.”

Peter turns— slowly this time— to see you, standing in the doorway, holding two coffee mugs– one with “World’s Best Dad” printed on the side.

You’re wearing an oversized ESU hoodie that looks way too comfy on you, and fuzzy socks that make an unfortunate squelch as they hit the floorboards.

You hand over the warm mug like it’s a peace offering.

He blinks down at it. “This is…?”

“Coffee,” you deadpan. “It’s what people drink after nearly vomiting in a stranger’s bathtub.”

Peter groans and slumps back into the couch, cradling the mug like a life preserver. “I didn’t vomit, though.”

“Sure. But the vibe was there.”

He exhales a slow, embarrassed breath. “Right. Uh. Did I, like… sleepwalk here? Or did you drag my unconscious body across campus?”

You grin. “Neither. You walked, basically crawled. I gave you water and sustenance, and you turned coherent enough to tell me you lived ten blocks away, and then immediately fell asleep mid-sentence. So, no, I wasn’t about to let you wander the streets like a hungover Bambi.”

Peter stares at you. “You took me home?”

You gesture around.

“I took you to my home.”

He groans again, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m so sorry. This is… probably peak humiliation for me.”

“Honestly? You weren’t even the worst part of my night.”

He lowers his hands. “How could anything possibly top this?”

You sit across from him, sipping your coffee like it’s no big deal. “I stepped in a puddle of beer, glitter, and unidentified bodily fluid in someone’s hallway and ruined my favorite heels.”

Peter winces. “Ouch.”

“Tragic,” you agree. “But you did call me a ‘wise and glowy bathtub angel,’ so I guess my night was somewhat salvaged.”

He groans again, dragging the blanket over his face. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

A beat of quiet stretches between you, broken only by the soft hum of your air conditioner and the occasional traffic outside your window.

Peter peeks out from under the blanket. “Hey… thanks. For not leaving me to die. And for the granola bar. And this couch. And possibly saving my life.”

You smile. “You’re welcome, bathtub boy.”“It’s Peter, actually.”“Bathtub Boy has a better ring to it.”

next part !!

#tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker fanfiction #fluff #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker x y/n

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tojiscumdumpster · 1 year ago

Text

⠀ ⠀⠀ "unwanted" MATRIMONY

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀byakuya kuchiki.

✧ summary to preserve the existence of y/n's clan, she is forced to wed the twenty-eighth head of the kuchiki clan—byakuya kuchiki.

✧ content warnings reader is described as a black woman who uses she/her pronouns. clanhead!reader x captain!byakuya. bleach verse au (no manga spoilers) byakuya is a noble, so they'll both be speaking as such. lowkey giving royalty au vibes. told in first POV — reader's. tropes included: arranged marriage, childhood rivals to lovers. usage of c*nt, missionary position, fingering, nipple play, praise and breeding kink, primal play, terms of endearment — blossom, my love, etc. plot with smut, fluff, and a touch of angst if you squint hard enough. lengthy, but the build up is worth it and necessary!

✧ author's note i don't have much to say, but here's to adding more bleach men to my roster. i knew i wanted to write for byakuya because that's my baby daddy, and now i finally have this idea i hope you guys enjoy. support me by reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts. i would greatly appreciate it. ♡ MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS - DO NOT INTERACT.

I must make my days do, lazing around in my private chambers as I am bound to a marriage I wanted no parts of. Especially not with Byakuya Kuchiki.

Lord Byakuya, as he prefers me to call him.

Because I am the current and possibly the final head of the L /N Clan, I am forced to complete my duties as such. Those duties entailed me following through with my grandparents final wish: get married and keep our family name alive.

Which I have no issue with fulfilling.

My dreams are filled with having children with a man that loves me. To extend our family and grow old together where our souls will find each other in another life.

However, I hadn’t planned my marriage to be an arrangement that I wasn’t aware of because of an agreement our grandfathers had prior to me being born.

It’s shocking, honestly. More so, ludicrous for them to think this was okay. But I just couldn’t deny my grandfather. Not when his palm was in mine, lacking its warmth that’s usually there due to his near passing.

I remember tears staining my cheeks and a smile gracing his when he made his final request for me.

That was two years ago. Now, I am married. Have been for almost a year and every day I dread my decision.

How could I possibly wed a man as cold as Byakuya Kuchiki? We barely speak. We sleep in separate chambers. The most we see each other is during dinner because it would be ridiculous to have the servants prepare us food at different times. But even so, the silence and tension always remains deafening.

And to make matters worse, we have yet to consummate our marriage.

This is something I cannot possibly do on my own. He may or may not be attracted to me, and I am convinced to assume the latter because he never utters a look in my direction.

It’s shameful how he treats me. The words he spoke to me the night of our ceremony is a constant memory I do my best to forget but cannot.

I’m officially married. Not the way I expected to be, but what other choice do I have? Grandfather has died and I made a promise to him to marry and bear children to keep the L /N Clan everlasting. Even if that meant being forced into marriage with my childhood rival.

As we sit side-by-side next to each other, bowing and thanking all of our guests for their blessings, I feel the coldness radiating off Byakuya. Of course, one of us has to be graceful and fake smiles while greeting everyone, so I am left to the task.

Byakuya? He doesn’t hide how dissatisfied he is with how this night is going.

To an extent, I understand. Forcing to wed after the loss of his wife, Hisana, is not ideal. Despite it being centuries since her soul has passed, I’m almost positive the heartbreak is still present.

Maybe tonight reminds him of her?

“Byakuya—what is the matter? Is everything alright?” I inquired. I turn to face him and await a response.

The squareness of his jawline catches my attention and I think how it was carved by the gods themselves. I’ve known Byakuya since we were both children, and seeing the fine man he has grown into today never ceases to amaze me.

His profile is… beautiful. I’m mesmerized by the softness of his pale complexion and how it contrasts with the darkness of his raven colored locks.

The further I stare at him, the more heat floods underneath my cheeks and my mouth watering at the sight of his beauty.

But when he finally speaks, all of the emotions I’ve felt have completely diminished.

“Do you feel no shame being forced into a marriage where your partner feels nothing for you?”

Since then, I’ve kept my distance from him. I remember the pain that pinged my chest when processing the words that left his mouth. I remember rushing to my chambers after the ceremony and crying until it felt like a million shards of glass were piercing them.

Yes, I feel ashamed. But I never expected Byakuya to be so direct with me. He’s certainly not the young boy I remember growing up with. Where we would make everything into a competition.

Our swordsmanship. Our knowledge. Our abilities. Whatever can be turned into a challenge for us, Byakuya and I competed.

That led him to be a captain of the Gotei Thirteen and twenty-eighth head of the Kuchiki Clan. And me, the twenty-third head of my family. I initially wanted to enter the Shin’ō Academy along with Byakuya, but I chose to stay with my family and oversee our medicine and agriculture.

However, even when he entered the academy, he always made time to see me because we were friends before any juvenile competition we made.

So why can he not see his wrongdoings in our marriage? Could he at least try for the sake of me fulfilling my duties?

All that keeps me company are movements of the servants coming in and out of my chambers, along with the river that flows past my view.

As always, dinner is silent.

Byakuya has returned to the manor after attending his captain duties, and this is the only time of day where I see him. He is stripped from his formal wear and has been dressed in a simple dark blue yukata that has specks of cherry blossoms scattered across the garment.

If I didn’t loathe him so much, I could take my time appreciating how handsome he looks while being in the comfort of his manor. His locks are released from the kenseikan he wears that symbolizes his nobility as the head of the Kuchiki Clan.

I occasionally steal glances at him while he eats, and yes, while I do despise being in this forced marriage just as he does, I can’t help but be captivated by him.

My lady parts wouldn’t allow me to deny the attraction.

As I watch my beloved husband, I think of all the sexual acts I would like for him to do to me. Please me in ways I could only imagine he can do. Make love to me and whisper in my ear how breathtaking I am.

When I look at Byakuya, I think of all the times I’ve spent time with Lady Kyōraku and she tells me how madly in love she is with Captain Kyōraku. How well he treats her, and even with his demands in his new position, they spend much quality time together.

She even graced my ears with a few details about a picnic session they recently had where it led to activities that typically aren't done out in public.

I wonder if my husband will ever be reckless enough to do an act as obscene as that.

Not likely.

I hate quiet, especially while we eat together. What is the purpose if no words will be spoken amongst each other? No eye contact. No going to bed together after we have finished. Why?

Why am I not able to be served dinner in my private chambers? Surely, I can make a request for this going forward.

Or… perhaps there is a different way for me to get him to speak.

I take a sip of my cremè sake before clearing my throat. “How did your day treat you, my lord?”

“It was fine,” he responds, flatly. Should I be shocked that he didn’t lift his chin when speaking to me?

“There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

“It can wait. I’m not up for discussion at the moment.” His dismissive tone has annoyance leaching onto my flesh, and I feel like I am on the verge of exploding.

“Perhaps it cannot. I would like to discuss something with you, my husband.” The authority in my voice grabs his attention and finally, he looks up at me and catches my hardened gaze.

He deeply sighs, sitting down his bowl of rice and chopsticks. “What is it?”

“Maybe we should… begin the process of annulment.”

His face remains calm. Expressionless, like I always remembered. Does he care enough to show a reaction to me asking for a cancellation of our marriage?

This shouldn’t be a difficult decision for him, so why is he taking his time to respond?

The longer I wait, the more his lack of response bothers me. It’s not similar to before, where the quiet was filled by the sounds of us eating and the servants coming in to check on us.

No, it’s the silence where if he does not speak, I will make the decision for him and walk out and permanently leave the manor.

I think of all the conversations I’ve had with Lady Rukia, his younger sister. And Renji, his lieutenant, about how I should be patient with Byaykuya. That, eventually, he will come around and warm up to me being his wife.

But how long?

How long would it take for us to share a chamber? For us to act like we’re in this agreement together? For him to look at me with the same attraction I have for him?

How long?

It possibly couldn’t be more than a year.

This is not the Byakuya Kuchiki I grew up with. No, I wasn’t in his life those five years he was wedded to Hisana due to my own family issues. Maybe I could’ve been there for him and witnessed his change that caused him to be so apathetic.

However, this cold man that sits before me… I don’t know who he is.

“Is there someone else you’re interested in?” He finally speaks, breaking me from my musings.

I draw my brows together, confused at his accusation. “Are you… insinuating that I am having an affair?”

“We’ve been wedded for a year. No acts of intimacy have been done between us. Now suddenly you—”

“Because of you!” My voice roars, interrupting whatever nonsense that he was about to spew.

I refuse to allow him to put the blame on me for the stillness in our marriage. I have tried, time after time, and all I am met with is a man that constantly rejects any type of advances I attempt to provide him.

So, I continue.

“I have given you a year, Byakuya,” I begin, standing over him. He looks up at me and again, his expression remains undetectable. “The day of our ceremony, I have accepted that I will be your lady, and on that night, I was prepared for consummation. But what did you do instead? Humiliate me in front of all our guests with your trivial question!”

My chest heaves an adrenaline I haven’t felt in a while. Maybe even never, however, leave it to Byakuya to rile me up this way.

“If you or anyone thinks I will bear children with a man that looks at me with utter disgust, then you all are sadly mistaken.” Are my last words to him before I rush out the supper room, tears threatening to fall, reminding me of the night we wedded.

I feel like such a fool. Disgrace descends upon me and my mind quickly goes to my grandfather and the words he spoke to me on his deathbed. Be strong, child, and fulfill your duties as the current head of the L /N Clan. Bear beautiful children with Young Byakuya and fall effortlessly in love.

Oh, grandfather. What am I to do? I can no longer stand to be in this marriage. Not like this.

Not with Byakuya.

By this time already, I had returned to my chambers and began preparing for bed. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me tonight, so some sleep will do me good.

But my suggestion of annulment will continue in the morning.

Just as I was moisturizing my body, a knock at the door interrupts my nightly routine and I immediately grow annoyed.

I know it isn’t one of the servants checking on me. They know when I don’t want to be bothered with. So that leaves the man that’s responsible for my current state of mind.

Ignore him, I say to myself. He’ll think I’m asleep and eventually leave. But no. He barges into my chambers, unannounced, and shuts the door behind him.

“Excuse me. I don’t recall giving you permission to en—”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” He asks, paying no mind to my protests. “Being… married to you.”

I turned my back to him and continued with the task I was doing before he interrupted. “Save me the boredom and keep it to yourself. No need to further remind—”

“For a year… I have been… fighting these emotions. These… feelings that have been forming in my chest at the thought of you being my lady.” His admission shocks me… but I remain quiet and stare at him intently through my mirror and allow him to finish. “Do you wish to know how I feel about you, Lady Y/N?”

My chest slowly heaves up and down and I hold eye contact with him. “How?” I breathed.

“You interfere with my routine. Daily… weekly… monthly. Just the thought of you has my mind spiraling.” He moves closer to me with every word he speaks. “A noble. A clan head such as myself, loses all sense of control with just a whiff of your scent. Your jasmine scent that drives me utterly insane. I simply cannot act with honor when I’m around you, so I purposely choose to ignore you.”

“But… why?” I questioned.

“Because you are you, my lady. You may think I don’t keep my eyes on you, but I do. All day… every day. I… watch you sit by the river and simply smile at the sight of nature. From a distance, I hear how kind you are when you speak to others. It’s… enchanting.”

I slowly release a breath and swallow a thick gulp. “So why is that you don’t speak to me? If I’m, as you stated, enchanting?”

“Speaking is not what I wish to do with you when we are alone,” he admits. Arousal rushed between my legs at the true meaning of his statement.

“It is hard for me to believe that you have an attraction toward me, Lord Byakuya.” As if my words triggered him, he takes long strides to close the distance between us.

“Perhaps it’s because you do not look at me the way you look at others. I, too, should be questioning your attraction toward me.”

I stand to meet with him, but fail miserably due his tall frame towering me. Still, I stand firm with my gaze. “Others such as who?”

“Shūhei Hisagi,” he deadpans.

“You’re being ridicu—”

“That smile… Your eyes… The look you give him… you have never looked at me that way before. He personally delivers the newsletter to our manor, which he doesn’t have to, but he does for you.”

“Are you… jealous? Of the small interactions I have with Hisagi a few times throughout the week?”

It is hard for me to believe that the honorable Byakuya Kuchiki himself is getting flared up over a platonic friendship between Hisagi and I.

Sure, there may be a chance he feels more for me than I know, judging by how his cheeks stain a light pink color when he delivers the newsletter.

But in no shape or form do I feel the same way, and I would never stoop as low as stepping out in my marriage. Even if my husband treats me like I am a fly on the wall.

Though, now, as he stands before me, slightly flustered, nostrils flaring, and a pinched expression—Byakuya is in fact—jealous.

I do not know how to feel about this, but I do know it is better than the distance I was getting before.

“Does this,” he grabs my hand to slip between us so I can feel his hardened erection, causing me to suck in a breath, “feel like I hold no attraction to you?”

“Byakuya,” I barely said above a hushed tone.

He presses his forward against mine, whispering, “Everyday… I curse myself for these feelings I have for you, to the point where I attempt to avoid you yet fail horribly because I can’t help but watch you from afar.” His hand gently runs up and down my arm, and this bit of contact burns warmth to my flesh.

“I feel wrong. Felt, wrong for having such feelings for you, knowing my late Hisana has passed away. I thought my heart went along with her illness, however, you returned to my life unexpectedly.”

I lick my lips before asking, “Are you saying you… love me, my lord?”

“I desire you, my lady. Crave you in ways that make me want to act animalistic.” His lips ghost over mine before he falls to my neck and inhales heavily. “I’ve always wanted to know what it is like to have you on my tongue. To hear you beg for me to give you more than what I am giving.”

“My lord… please.”

He shushes me. “Your beauty is beyond words. I have… never seen a rich, deep, golden brown complexion such as yours. You hold yourself with grace, but I know you’re a minx underneath these silk garments.”

He begins trailing faint kisses along my flesh until meeting with my face once more. I stare at him and take advantage of his ash-colored hues that resemble the sky on a cloudy day.

I don’t recall ever being this close in proximity to Byakuya. I’m enthralled by the smoothness of his skin and the color of his lips that reminds me of a thousand cherry blossoms.

I want to kiss him. I, too, also want to know what it feels like to have the taste of him on my tongue. Just—

“May I kiss you, Y/N?” The octave of his voice, slightly lower than usual, breathy with a touch of desperation… it does something to my core.

His cheeks flush red and my eyes widen at the sight of him. It feels like this is a fantasy, a moment I thought I would only see in my dreams. He is completely vulnerable, stipped down to where he forgets the formalities and calls my name. He is like this for me because of me.

When he is like this–I do not loathe him.

“You may.”

Byakuya gently presses his mouth against mine, our lips merely touching as if he is skeptical about what he is doing. He pulls back to look at me and I know desperation is shown on my face. And I know he feels the same.

How he engulfs my arm with his hand, applying immense pressure to show his desire for me tells me so.

My breaths are staggered. I’m thinking, what will he do next? Will he turn around and return to his chambers, regretting this moment ever happened? No. He does not.

He caresses my nose with his, breathing me in before meeting with my lips once more.

This time, he cuffs my face and deepens our kiss. My hands latched onto his wrist to hold him in place because I will not allow him to show any skepticism once again.

Byakuya takes his time exploring my mouth, but a touch of eagerness is shown when his tongue slips inside of me to get more. Heat hums throughout my body and I feel wetness pooling between my thighs due to the lack of under garments I am not wearing.

Is this what it feels like to kiss him? Is it normal for my limbs to grow weak? As if he read my thoughts, he sweeps me off the ground and wraps my legs around his waist. Our heads move side-to-side in unison while we devour each other’s grunts and moans.

We head in the direction to my futon and ever so lightly, he lays me down and pulls away from me.

“Strip for me.” His order is soft but filled with dominance I can’t be anything but submissive to.

I untie my silk robe, slowly until it falls off my shoulders and bares my body. His eyes… where I know Byakuya to be calm and collective during battle, right now a beast rages through him, and I am his prey that he is ready to feast on.

My legs spread, revealing my sex that is moist beyond measure. A growl forms in the pit of Byakuya’s stomach and it spreads chills down my spine.

He palms my breasts while gazing at me and I shudder from his touch. I could believe that this is in fact a dream, but it is not.

No longer than a second later, and he pinches my nipple between his fingers.

“My lord,” I softly cried, arching my back.

“You are art, Y/N.”

“Address me as your lady,” I demanded.

“Apologies, Lady Y/N.” He leans forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Is there anything else you would like for me to do?”

“Strip for me as well,” I instructed, teasingly.

His yukata drapes low on his hips and I am met with his slender build. Squared shoulders. A trimmed waist. And an abdomen where I would enjoy rubbing my wetness along that leads to what will bring me pleasure tonight.

He stands to completely remove his garments and my mouth floods at the sight of him. His groin, hard and veiny, drips liquid that I’m yearning to taste.

Byakuya, as expected, is well trimmed, but leaves just enough hair, perfect to my liking.

He’s much larger than I imagined. A size I need time adjusting to, that’s for certain.

“Am I up to your liking?” He quips.

I hum, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “Perhaps.”

The smallest chuckle, almost faint, escapes his mouth. “Perhaps…” He mocks, catching onto the lie that I uttered.

He kneels down before me and sucks my lower lip into his mouth while he widens my legs even further to bring pleasure to my cunt. Those slender fingers, so long and delicate, slip inside of me and I mewl at the slight intrusion. He massages my walls as if he is exploring, attempting to familiarize himself with how I pulsate around his fingers.

I break our kiss to moan his name, and my lord takes advantage of the opening to plunge his tongue in the back of my throat and sink deeper into my cunt.

I never expected Byakuya to be well equipped with his fingers this way. Those same fingers that are used for battle are currently being used to bring me to my release.

Soon, his lips find the valley of my breasts where he leaves bruises on my flesh with teeth. I whimper so pathetically, shocking myself at the sound that leaks from me.

He sucks on my nipples greedily, like a starved man that’s hungry for his lover, and this time, I let out a moan of his name.

“Byakuya…”

He looks at me through his lashes and firmly grips my breast. “Remember, my lady. Address me as your lord.”

“I am sorry, my lord. Please… I can no longer wait. I want to come.”

“Where is that fire that was present earlier? Begging?” I clench around his fingers at the sound of him taunting me.

He flickers his digits quicker inside of me, pulling such obscene noises from my cunt that mingles with my moans and his praises in my chambers.

Byakuya, this time, does not kiss me. No, instead, he ogles me and gently holds my chin in place where I am forced to watch him deliver me a release I’ve been waiting a year for.

There was a time where I thought he didn’t have an ounce of attraction to me, and now here he is, pleasing me in a way I haven’t been before.

“Oh, Lord Byakuya… I… I’m about to come. I feel a release coming,” I purred.

“But I have barely touched you, blossom.”

I latched onto his wrist and rolled my hips to meet his fingers thrusting inside of my cunt. “I—I know. I’ve been waiting for this… for so long.”

“You’ve fantasized about me bringing you pleasure?” I nod, causing a small smirk to form on his lips. “Tell me more, Lady Y/N. What else do you want? Would you like my shaft inside your tight cunt?”

“Yes.”

“Tell you how breathtaking you look while being filled with me?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Lord Byakuya.”

The faintest, most gentle kiss is placed on the side of my mouth and I feel the tension at the bottom of my stomach unraveling.

“Are you prepared to bear my children? To have my come flooding your cunt until it drips out?” He ghosts over my ear. “Will you take me?”

“Bya… kuya…” My orgasm suddenly crept onto me and I’ve created a mess on his hand.

I throw my head back and moan to the gods above. I can’t stop shaking and he continues to pump his fingers inside of me.

For a year I thought this man loathed me, but tonight I am proved otherwise.

Lord Byakuya has described himself as a madman when he is around me, and it is shown when he doesn’t permit me the time to come down from my release before guiding his cock to my entrance.

I look between us, anticipating the moment he enters my body and wondering how I will take him.

He attempts to push himself inside, but is met with interference and clicks his tongue. Frustrated at the constriction of my cunt because his cock is aching to feel my walls.

“I see she is as stubborn as you are,” he taunts.

I slyly smirk at him. “Giving up—Ohh…”

Byakuya does not allow me to finish my retort before giving me one long thrust between my folds to completely stuff me. My brows knits together at the slight intrusion and hint of pain that’s mended by my wetness.

I’m… stretched. How could he fit? He’s so… big. Large. I feel his veins pleasurably grazing me when he slowly begins to pull in and out. My cunt molds around his cock like he’s all she knows and I gasp with every movement.

My thighs are pushed back so he could see all of me, to see how I’m swallowing him whole. He swears underneath his breath and seeing Byakuya so vulnerable like this has me pulsating.

“You… are amazing, my lady. This cunt of yours… It's perfect,” he declares. “For a year you have been keeping this from me?”

“More, my lord. Give me a bit more.”

“So desperate for my come, are you?”

I eagerly nod and grip his forearms to take his pounding. He wastes no time acquiescing to my request, increasing his thrusts to pull such lewd noises from me.

I’m almost embarrassed by the loudness of my dripping sex. I’m practically making a mess on my futon and I’m mortified that the servants will need to replace my sheets.

Again, his mouth and hands are back on my breast, sucking and circling my nipples until they ache. Byakuya alternates between the two to show equal amounts of love and I have never felt so overwhelmed.

He drives into me with so much passion while marking me with his teeth and alleviating the pain with his tongue.

“When I breed you, you will be completely mine, my love. You will be full of me, carrying my child,” he rasps, rutting into me with more force. “How many will you give me?”

I gasped. “As many as you want, Lord Byakuya. Just please… make me come again. I feel it approaching.”

“So come for me, blossom.”

His thrusts are harsher than before. The head of his cock repeatedly presses my sweet spot and I feel the spark of electricity tingling in my lower back. My breasts are still occupied by his mouth, but they move obnoxiously with the rhythm of his poundings.

I cry his name, scream to my lord how wonderful this feels and tears prick the corner of my eyes. His free hand that was on my breast moves to thumb my clit to aid with my near release.

Byakuya moans soon joins mine to tell me how my cunt squeezes his cock, nearly strangling. And if it were to lose circulation, I would be the cause. But does he not feel how he throbs inside of me?

How he hopes to breed me so we will be bound for life?

“You asked me earlier… if I love you. Would you still like to know?”

“Yes, Byakuya. Tell me… do you?”

“I do,” he simply answers. “Since the day I saw you staring at the river and smiling at the water flowing. How could I not love you?” He brushes his lips across mine and lowers his voice. “How could I not love you after having you like this? Having your beautiful body, every dip and curve bare underneath me?”

“Lord Byakuya… I’m coming.”

“And you sound beautiful when my name drips from your lips. Continue calling me your lord until I have filled you with my come.”

Over and over, he rocks into me at a frenzied pace, causing my orgasm to burst out of me. Tears stain my cheeks and arousal prickles my flesh from my overwhelming release. However, Byakuya does not let up until his thrusts are uncoordinated, indicating his own climax.

Coming together as lovers for the first time after our ceremony has me seeing stars in my chambers. His load… it’s heavy. Hot and sticky. It mingles with my own come and creates a mess between us.

Lord Byakuya, too, is a vocal lover. He comes down from his own release and whispers how ethereal I am. How he would never grow tired of pleasing me and filling my cunt.

But it’s the delicacy of him brushing my coils away from my face and placing soft kisses on my cheeks that causes my heart to skip a beat.

An hour has already passed, and we have been basking in each other’s presence. His embrace is comforting. It provides me with a warmth that was well needed to fill the coldness beside me when I slept alone at night for the past year.

“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence.

I know the reason for his apology, but ask anyway. “For what, my lord?”

“For the discomfort I have provided you since our engagement. You didn’t deserve that… Before anything, you were a dear childhood companion of mine and I treated you horribly.”

His kind words move me. I place my palm against his cheek and look up at him. “We can discuss it some more later on. For now, I would like to enjoy your company. Is that okay?”

He kisses the top of my head and pulls me further into his arms. “Of course, my lady… Of course.”

thank you for reading. reblogs, comments, and likes are well appreciated. if you enjoy my work, please be sure to check our my masterlist for more. ෆ

#anime x black!reader #fanfic smut #anime x reader #bleach x black reader #bleach x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach smut #byakuya kuchiki x reader #byakuya kuchiki x black reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #x black reader #black reader #byakuya smut #anime smut

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thewritingfairy · 2 months ago

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This is so funny because just today I was hoping you would upload a new chapter and immediately when I check Tumblr you updated. I swear we share the same mind! Anyways u love chapter 12 pookie, Damian is very much self reflecting in his own way slowly but surely but I want to know, who is out off all the batfam the worst yandere because in my opinion I think its either Jason or Alfred.

Phone format, Chapter mentioned: 13. Damian attempts self-reflection

This is actually very funny, because I update whenever I have a random burst of inspiration for this story. (Its also why the chapters are often short or multiple after each other because I go from writing to no motivation to sudden motivation). And sometimes I just take days or weeks to write.

But the worst yandere...

Honestly? It depends from which angle you look at it.

When it comes to betrayal? Tim (also delusional). Especially since he knows what it's like to be neglected, he knows how much damage it brings and you thought you would have some solidarity with him. You don't care for his reasons, you simply care for his actions.

When it comes to possessiveness, Damian and Jason. For obvious reasons, Damian has an obsession with blood relations and Jason's possessiveness is actually a plot line so I can't spoil too much. But he basically sees you as a better version of his mother that he failed to protect and keep alive before, so now he wants to ensure you cannot leave them. Because if you leave you'll be like his mother. And you don't want that now do you?

When it comes to protectiveness, Cass, Bruce and Barbara. Cass feels immense guilt for ignoring your pain, so she'll attempt to shield you from more even if it means kidnapping you or locking you up. Barbara is in the same boat but also because she knows how hard it was at first to become disabled, so she feels guilt for not being there for you. And Bruce is Bruce, with his obsessive plans, his canon nature is already a bit shit, his yandere side just makes it all worse. And when it comes to protectiveness? Eventually you'll won't be able to breath without someone monitoring you if he had his way.

When it comes to delusional Alfred, Dick and Stephanie. We've all seen how Alfred acts, like a piece of shit and he honestly thinks your behaviour is just a fase. Dick feels the need to protect everyone and to be loved by everyone, so he's mainly delusional. He makes himself think that you do love them and still want to be with them (you don't). Stephanie doesn't really want to acknowledge how she has hurt you, so she pretends you guys are okay but she feels the need to keep you (in a sense) so that you'll no longer get hurt.

The easiest would be Duke.

Duke knows what you want, so he'll always take your side. Especially with your past and his own morals. Duke doesn't throw away what he stands for simply because he feels an obsessive need to protect you or to lock you up. No. But he might come with you to everything check if everything is safe and then pretend to leave but he's actually just stalking at a respectful distance and out of sight (from everyone !!!)

I also would like to note that there is no such thing as respectful stalking in real life. Fiction doesn't equate to what's healthy in real life. also you got happy because I updated? Pls, you've made my day, I needed that before my exam tomorrow.

#☾ thewritingfairy #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #batfam x neglected reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere stephanie brown #yandere duke thomas #yandere cassandra cain #yandere barbara gordon #asks #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson

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anakinca · 3 months ago

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OKAY HEAR ME OUT

Anakin AU where’s Shmi is still alive and Anakin is in college with reader and he had never brought a girl home and for the first time he bring her with him for dinner. And she get along so well with his mother and Anakin is just blushing the whole time.

Fic or not, but this has been in my mind for too long.

(based on a real event where my younger sister brought her gf home)

—❝fit so seamlessly❞

modern au!anakin skywalker x reader

tw ; nothing, just pure fluff

a/n ; GUYS IM SORRY I KEEP FORGETTING TO DO REQUESTS😭 i literally am dying in a spiral of writers block and im DYING OF SICKNESS RN SIGHHH. but anyways.. i LOVEDDD THIS PROMPT AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT. hope u enjoy this, angels <33

THE FIRST TIME ANAKIN BRINGS YOU HOME TO MEET HIS MOM, HE’S NEVER BEEN SO NERVOUS IN HIS LIFE. Which is ridiculous. He’s a grown man and he’s in college. He’s faced high-pressure exams, late-night study sessions fueled by way too much caf, and a near-death experience trying to fix his own car’s engine. And yet, standing outside the small apartment door with you at his side, his palms are sweating like he’s twelve again. You, on the other hand, seem completely at ease, rocking on your heels as you glance up at him with a grin. “You’re acting like you’re bringing me home to a mob boss.” You tease him, rolling your eyes playfully. Anakin huffs and glares at you, even as his lips twitch at the corners. He shifts the bag of fruit he brought for his mom to his other hand nervously. “It’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never brought anyone home before.” Your grin softens then, something warm flickering in your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be your first.” He swallows. Hard. Because that sentence should not make his brain short-circuit the way it just did. But before he can embarrass himself further, the door swings open, and there she is—Shmi Skywalker. She’s small, but she has this presence, this warmth that instantly makes you feel like you’ve walked into the safest place in the world. Her dark hair is streaked with gray, her smile soft and her warm brown eyes twinkling with affection as she immediately pulls Anakin into a tight hug.

He sinks into it without hesitation, burying his face against her shoulder for just a second, because no matter how old he gets, he’ll always be her son.

You stand watching with a smile, the way his shoulders relax—the way he looks like he can breathe again—makes your heart warm.

Then she pulls back, her gaze flickering to you.

And suddenly, Anakin is sweating again.

“Mom,” he says, clearing his throat. “This is—” But before he can even finish introducing you, Shmi’s already pulling you into a hug too. “Oh, sweetheart,” she says, her voice warm and full of nothing but love. “I’ve heard so much about you.” You blink in surprise before easily melting into the embrace, feeling all giddy inside. “All good things, I hope.” Shmi pulls back just enough to give Anakin a look. “He never shuts up about you.” She chuckles, pulling back to place her hands on your arms, her eyes crinkling with her smile. He wants to die. Right then and there. Just drop dead in the entryway. You, of course, find this hilarious, shooting him a teasing grin as you turn your head to look at him. “Really, Anakin? Didn’t know you were such a talker.” He groans, running a hand down his face as his mother laughs—actually laughs at his suffering. “I—okay, inside. Everyone inside,” he mutters, already pushing you both through the doorway before he collapses on the spot. And it only gets worse from there. Because dinner? Yeah. You and his mom get along instantly.You’re helping set the table before Shmi can even tell you to sit, and when she asks about school, you answer like you’ve known her forever. You listen to her stories with actual interest, laughing at the way she talks about Anakin’s childhood, nodding like you already knew about all his quirks as a kid.

And Anakin? He’s just sitting there, blushing, because this is new. He’s never had this before. Never had someone fit so seamlessly into his life, someone who just belongs at his table, in his space, with his family. And you do. It makes his heart swell with pure and utter love for you, feeling like he’s truly found the one who’s for him.

And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

At some point, Shmi excuses herself to grab dessert, leaving just the two of you at the table.

You glance over at Anakin, smiling softly at the dazed look on his face. “You okay there, Skywalker?” He blinks and clears his throat, trying to pretend he hasn’t just been sitting there like some kind of lovesick idiot for the past hour. “Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… you and my mom.” You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side with a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “What about us?” “I don’t know.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You just—fit.” You blink at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice, the way his words settle over you like a quiet, unspoken truth. And then, because you can’t help yourself—because he’s adorable when he’s flustered—you grin. “So, when’s the wedding?” And Anakin chokes on his glass of water while you giggle to yourself.

@thesassypadawan @anakinstwinklebunny @sydkneez @dessxoxsworld @nikiloveshayden @sweetcheesecakesblog @throughparisallthroughrome

let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list, angels <3

#anakinca #angelreqs #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #star wars fanfiction #clay beresford #james kelly #star wars

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.”

i'm so obsessed with this line from one of your recent spencer reid works and i would loooove to see more of this dynamic if you're interested in doing it 💗 maybe more moments of them being soft/whipped for each other and the team noticing it? thank youuu!!

Thank you lovely!

cw: mention of kidnapping/missing girl (that’s the backdrop of the scene so please be careful with yourself), Spencer has some dark/hopeless thoughts about the case

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words

Spencer really wishes he’d remembered his gloves. The air is biting, fresh powder glistening on the deep green spruces whose boughs stoop under its weight. It’s picturesque, and yet the snowfall couldn’t have come at a worse time. It’s impeded their search party by hours, potentially dooming the kidnapping victim they’re all braving the weather for. Spencer keeps his hands stowed in his coat pockets.

“Hey.”

He turns as you and Emily come up behind him. You’re both dressed better than he is, actual winter wear as opposed to the tweed coat he’d worn into the police station that morning. Even so, you look chilled as you smile at him. You carry a disposable coffee cup in each hand.

“Hi,” Spencer says, taking the one you extend to him. His numb fingers are grateful for the warmth of it. “I thought you guys were interviewing the uncle?”

Emily’s shaking her head before he’s finished speaking, mouth pulling in discontent. “That was a dead end. He and his sister have been estranged for years. He doesn’t know anything.”

A frown tugs at your features as Emily talks but you perk up quickly when you feel your boyfriend’s gaze. “We figured we’d be more helpful here,” you say brightly, “and also that you might want some liquid reinforcement.”

“Thanks.” He does a little toast with his disposable cup and regrets it immediately, but thankfully you smile. Spencer isn’t sure how he got so lucky; it seems like he can get away with any number of weird things and you’ll find them endearing every time. “There hasn’t been much progress here either. If they left any sort of tracks, the snow covered it up. I’m not…” he lowers his voice, angling his head away from the others in his group. “I’m not sure we’ll find her alive in this.”

“We’ve still got eight hours,” Emily points out.

She’s right, he tells himself. There are eight hours left in the forty-eight hour window. But that’s also just a statistic. And as someone whose brain is packed full of statistics, Spencer knows that they’re not always reflective of reality. The eight hours his team has left might be more for hope than anything else.

Emily drifts ahead of you in the group and you bump your shoulder lightly into his, forcibly derailing his train of thought. He looks over at you. Your lips are tipped up, just a little. Not faking anything, but understanding, a quiet promise that regardless of how today turns out, you’ll be in it together. He finds it easier than expected to return your smile.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Your hair curtains your face as you look down, unzipping your jacket to dig something out of the interior pocket. “You left your gloves at the station.”

“Yes.” You laugh at his eagerness as he takes them from you. “I can’t believe I forgot them, thanks so much for bringing them.”

“Of course, it was no problem.” Your eyes skim the trees. Spencer suspects that your cold face might be warming some now. “I figured you might need them, so.”

“You were right.”

Your gaze flits to his as you grin, then falls to where he has his gloves held bunched with his coffee cup. “Oh, do you want me to take that so you can put them on?”

“That’d be great,” he says, relieved.

He holds the cup out to you. You reach for it, but when your fingers brush his in the transfer, you gasp, covering his hand with yours.

“Spence,” you say softly, remonstrance gentled. “Your hands are freezing!”

“They’re not as bad as they were before. What are you doing?”

You’ve taken one of his hands in yours and appear to be inspecting it closely. “Checking if your fingernails are blue.”

“They’re not,” he laughs, though he lets you finish your perusal until you’re satisfied. “I would know if I had frostbite. I’d be able to identify the symptoms early on.”

“They’re just so cold,” you fret. “I’ve never felt skin that cold before.”

The backs of his hands are still freezing, but his palms and the pads his fingers have warmed from the coffee cup. “I’m not sure they’re colder than your face,” he says, pressing his free hand to one of your cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, your skin is cool to the touch, but you smile warmly as you push your cheek into his palm.

“Okay, you two,” Emily says without turning around, “less fraternizing on the job.

You straighten immediately. “We were just—”

“Being cute and coupley?” Uncannily, Morgan appears on Spencer’s other side. He has no idea when his nosiest coworker had drifted back from the front of the group. “We know. But could you save it for the hotel later? Even all the sparks flying off you two can’t melt all this snow, and I want to get out of here sometime before dark.”

Spencer suspects his face is pinker than can be explained by the chill as he looks down to pull on his gloves. Morgan relishes in it, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you brought pretty boy here a coffee and not me.” He tsks. “I didn’t expect such blatant favoritism from you, sweetheart. I’m disappointed.”

“I was carrying yours,” Emily says, her tone conveying an eyeroll so effectively she doesn’t need to follow through with the action. She pushes a disposable coffee cup into Morgan’s chest.

He doesn’t look one bit sheepish as he takes it, though Spencer notices you trying to repress a grin that’s bordering upon smug.

“This has lipstick on the lid.”

Emily shrugs. “I finished mine in the car.”

“So you started on mine?”

“I sampled.”

“You’re lucky I exhibit such blatant favoritism,” you say quietly to Spencer under their bickering. “I finished mine in the car too.”

He raises his eyebrows, and you shake your empty cup as proof. Spencer takes your hand, wrapping it around his coffee cup. “We’ll share.”

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