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idkwhatever580 · 9 days

Text

Embarrassed

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x enhanced!reader (Reader has powers like Wanda's but pink because I'm the author and I can do what I want, and my fav color is pink)

Prompt: Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.

Warnings: SMUT, enchanted strap, bondage, slapping, daddy kink (daddy is not a reflection of your gender just a term I used i swear!) cumming without permission?/warning?, swearing, tmi? (Is there such thing as tmi between best friends?), teasing. Top!Reader (semi soft)

A/N: I already had this in my drafts partially finished but then I got a rq and I thought I could incorporate it into this so yeah :) thanks for the request @keirannoa420 <3 (I made reader afab but I think I made them gn for everything else I hope that isn't a problem!)

Today is a simple day for the Avengers. Almost nobody is on a mission today, so everyone is doing their own thing to decompress and rest. Especially since last week was horrible. It was just mission after mission for you and the others.

From what you know, Tony and Bruce are in their lab, Steve and Buck went on a date after visiting Peggy's grave to give her the monthly flowers, Clint went back with his family, Thor and Loki are back at Asgard until needed, Nat is reading in her library, Agatha is in a therapy session (she is still healing from her witchy trauma, good on her!), Vision is probably floating around somewhere, Peter is with Aunt May, the rest of the younger ones are out and about, while you and Wanda are catching up on a much-needed yapping session.

"Omg did you hear what happened on Sam and Tony's mission yesterday?"

You sit up being intrigued, "No, what happened?"

She giggles at the thought of what happened, and says, "He- he"

She can't even tell you what happened without bursting into laughter. "He what! Oh my gosh stop laughing and tell me what happened!"

Your need to hear what happened overpowering your patience, but Wanda eventually can control her laughs into a soft snicker every now and then, "He had to run into the building instead of his usual flying, and he ended up slipping and falling on his back and rolling around because it was raining! Sam got the whole thing recorded thanks to redwing!"

You burst into laughter at the thought of Tony slipping, this surely hurt his ego more than anything. You gasp and say, "Wait... can I see the video? Do you have it?"

She laughs and grabs her phone, "Of course I have the video! I would say I'm surprised you don't have it, but I forgot your phone broke."

You roll your eyes at the reminder of not having a phone to do your daily social media things, but Nat says you need a break from your phone. Joke's on her, you're just bothering her more. (She secretly likes it)

You're drawn away from your thoughts when Wanda holds her phone to your face, the video of Tony slipping funnier than you pictured.

(volume is not necessary for this one)

You both started laughing so hard that tears fell from your eyes, but you both eventually calmed down and were able to change the subject. "So, how's Aggie? I feel like I haven't seen her in months even though I've only been on a mission for a week."

She smiles softly and says, "She's good. Her twice-a-week therapy sessions are really impacting her in a good way. I think she might be having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the Avengers though. She still gets overwhelmed sometimes. Which is what I was scared about. I didn't want to bring her into this space after nine whole months of secretly dating just for her to regress on her progress, but I think she is getting there. Her communication skills are definitely getting better which is helping me accommodate to her needs you know?"

You smile and nod knowingly, "Yeah, I remember coming here for the first time from being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent, it was terrifying, but my relationship with Nat only grew from where we were. Something is bound to blossom from her too. Anything else interesting with you two?"

Wanda sends me a small smirk and says, "I've been trying out new spells and tricks to cast and I happened to fall upon an interesting spell."

You raise an eyebrow with a tentative voice, "Interesting how?"

She giggles and says, "Okay, so obviously we talk about our sex lives a lot together, but this spell just made bedroom time way better. It's a spell to make an inanimate object basically a part of you. You can feel it and everything that happens to it. So, I tested this spell out on a certain strap-on that we use and let me just say I've never felt so good before. I think you should really try it on Nat, the first time I did it to Aggie, she literally cried because she felt so good."

You raise your eyebrows suggestively and say, "That is quite the interesting find Wands. I'm impressed. You'll have to show me the spell. I think I might try it out on Natty tonight if I can do it right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few tries of this new spell with Wanda, you're able to feel everything that happens to the tv remote in your leg. You smirk at Wanda and go to exit the room just as Agatha comes back. You send your goodbyes and almost sprint to Natasha's library, making sure to stop by your room to get a certain backpack.

The joys of having your own floor with Natasha means that the things on that floor are only used by the both of you, unless otherwise provoked. So, you know nobody is going to be walking into this space. This also means that you guys can literally fuck anywhere on that floor, but you are so excited to try this spell on her.

You slow down right before you enter and you saunter in, even though Nat has her noise cancelling headphones on, so you know she won't hear you. You come up behind her and softly rest your arms on her shoulders slowly creeping down to kiss her cheek.

She pulls off her headphones and says, "Hello detka. Do you need anything?"

You simply nod your head and give her a soft kiss on the lips to distract her before carefully snatching the current book she is invested in. She lets go of it but not without a pout, "Baby, I was reading that."

You carefully set the book down after putting a bookmark in. Then you walk around and pull her headphones off her ears which makes her even more confused. Until you sit in her lap and snuggle up to her neck. She softly smiles and starts rubbing patterns on your back. "Aww baby, did you want cuddles?"

You nod your head innocently and she says, "Well I can do that while also reading my book so can I have it back?"

You shake your head, and she realizes there's something else you want. She raises an eyebrow, and skeptically says, "What else is it? Did you do something?"

You pull away from her neck and shake your head, "No, I didn't do nothin', but I'm 'bout to."

She furrows her beautiful brows in confusion but notices the glint in your eyes. She knows this look; she has seen it a million times before. How could she miss it? So, she pouts and says, "Aww is my detka a bit horny?"

You nod your head and whisper, "I want to try something new today."

She smirks and nods, always willing to try everything once, well, almost everything. "Of course, detka, what is it you were wanting to try?"

You smile and say, "You're gonna have to wait and find out."

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but you kiss her on the lips and the words that were on the tip of her tongue fade away quickly.

You both start making out softly, a tenderness infiltrates your hearts that only you two can replicate with each other. The kiss quickly turns aggressive though. Her hands falling to your hips to steady them when they start to move on their own, while yours go to her hair to softly tug on the luscious, fiery locks.

Moans start to spill out of you when your core starts to rub on her thigh, and she starts to unbutton your pants trying to get directly to the source, but you push her away. Before she can question your antics, you reach behind her lounge chair to grab the backpack and wave it in front of her face. She smiles and you both stand up to undress yourselves, not bothering to do it for the other, instead choosing efficiency.

Once she has the strap securely tightened around her hips, you push her back down and sit just before the silicon cock, butt resting on her thighs. "I need you to hold still and be quiet for a moment, okay?"

She furrows her brows and says, "Wait, what are you doing?"

You smile at her and say, "I just need you to trust me so I can work my magic." You kiss her doubts away and whisper, "I think you're going to quite like this."

You cast the spell silently and when it is done, you look in her eyes and there is nothing, but confusion written all over her face. "What did you do?"

You smirk and spit on your hand before softly rubbing the tip of the dildo making her hips jerk. "Woah."

You smirk and say, "Woah indeed. Did that feel good?"

She nods her head and says, "Seriously Y/n, what did you do to me?"

You giggle and say, "I made you be able to feel everything like it is your own."

You shimmy your body down to be eye level with the pink sparkly attachment, and you look up into her eyes with yours being doe like from this angle and you slowly take her length into your mouth.

This new sensation causing Nat to moan helplessly and thread her fingers through your hair. You softly start to play with yourself and stretch yourself out, while making sure to not give her too much stimulation. Once you deem yourself ready to take her, you pull away and Nat glares at you. "Why'd you pull away?"

You smile and kiss her worries away, "So I can do this..."

You grab the attachment and slowly slide yourself onto her. Moaning at the size. She always seems to be so big even when you take her all the time. She moans extra loud when you take her to the hilt, and suddenly her hips jerk and her eyes roll to the back of her head.

You force her to look into your eyes and then you start to bounce up and down while grinding onto her.

Although you are feeling very good, your sole intention is to make Nat feel good today. "How does it feel baby?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but only a measly gasp is heard. After a while, she finally is able to conjure a sentence, "Fuck... it feels- so good."

You smirk and say, "Yeah? You like feeling this pussy clench around you?"

She whimpers and nods her head biting her lip to stifle her sounds. Usually you wouldn't let that slide, but since it is her first time feeling this, you'll give her some grace.

You start to bounce up and down on her cock more aggressively and her hands tighten around your hips. She is completely still excepting the few involuntary thrusts her hips make, which make you moan at the spot she hits when she does this.

Nat's head is thrown back and she finally lets go of her lip, allowing all the beautiful sounds to tumble out of her throat. Her pathetic noises are so hot to you and even hotter when she tries to speak, "Y/n I- it feels, I-"

All of a sudden, her words are cut off with an almost pornographic moan, which makes you so wet because you never hear her be this vocal. Her hips start thrusting into you uncontrollably and her hands are scratching into your hips, not that you care.

You furrow your eyebrows as hers raise in surprise and embarrassment. You slow down and say, "Did you... did you just cum?"

Natasha lets out an exhausted breath and looks at anything but you, until you move her by her chin to look into your eyes. When she sees your eyes, she tears up a bit, "I'm sorry I don't know what's wrong with me! I usually last way longer than that! I wasn't even prepared for it; it just sprang up on me."

She starts to ramble, so you shut her up with a kiss and when you pull away you chuckle softly, "Natty baby, I don't know why you came so fast, but I'll bet you it has something to do with the fact that this spell makes you feel things you've never felt before huh?"

She nods her head, and you smile, "Do you want to keep going or do you want to stop?"

She frowns and says, "I want you to cum."

You smile and shake your head, "That's not what I asked darling, I asked about you."

She thinks about it, and then a nasty thought pops into her brain, and she says, "I wanna keep going."

So, you nod your head, and keep moving and grinding on her, this time she makes it about five minutes before the same thing happens.

You become beyond confused as it looks like she just came again. Once she calms down, you tentatively ask, "Did you just... again?"

Her eyes widen and her face turns redder than her hair. She tears up a bit and tries to shove you off of her to inevitably run off and hide from her embarrassment, but you push on her hips, and she moans again. She still tries to get away, so you cut her thoughts off with soft tone saying, "Darling, don't worry, it's okay if you did, you know? It is a new sensation, and it is normal to have a crazy reaction to it."

She previously covered her red face with her hands to hide, so you carefully pull her hands down and smile at her small frame. "Tasha, why are you hiding from me?"

She finally cracks and says, "Because! That was so embarrassing! I've never finished that fast! So, I am embarrassed because I didn't even get to last long enough to have fun, and don't even mention the fact that you didn't get anything out of it!"

You pout at her with fake pity, "Oh darling," You brush her already sweaty hair out of her face and clench your pussy on her strap making her moan at the feeling, "You don't have to worry about that, trust me, we are going to have fun all night. You'll be begging me to stop."

She timidly nods her head, and you say, "Is that okay?"

She nods and says, "I really want to keep going."

You smile and nod your head, but before you can start riding her again, she pulls you off of her swiftly and flips you over on your hands and knees, slipping right back into your wet cunt.

She leans over to whisper in your ear, "I'm gonna fuck this pussy so hard."

You can only moan in response because she's already thrusting deep and hard into your insides. You consider giving in to her and letting her take over, but you already made your mind up ahead of time and she is not getting in your way. So, with a flick of your wrist, she is flipped over, and ropes appear and tie themselves around her wrists.

You crawl up to her as the pink glimmers fade from your eyes, and shake your head, "Thought you could get away with it huh?"

She doesn't answer and you slap her breast making her jerk and yelp out, "I asked you a question, didn't I?"

She meekly nods her head, and you say, "Then I expect you to answer it."

She nods her head again and you say, "Don't make me ask again."

"Yes! I thought I could get away with it! Please daddy!"

You bite your lip at the power trip you're getting from this, but you make sure to soften up and check on Nat knowing she only uses 'daddy' when she's extra sensitive, "I want you to use the color system just like always, okay? Can you tell me a color?"

She doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yes! Green, please daddy!"

A sigh falls from your lips at hearing that and you nod your head. "Okay baby, you know I'm not gonna be nice to you right?"

She whimpers and nods her head closing her eyes to center herself. You smirk and flip her over, making the dildo hit the bed when you push her hips down on the bed.

She moans out and you lean forward, your lips brushing softly over the shell of her ear, and you whisper, "Do not cum."

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head knowing she's already sensitive from previous orgasms, and she whines out, "No! Please daddy!"

You chuckle at her desperation and say, "If you're good tonight, I'll find a spell to make it so that you can cum in me too."

She shudders at the thought of being able to "breed" you and both of you feel it, so regardless of how much she already wants to cum, she nods her head and takes a breath to prepare herself.

Right before you are about to start, she yelps out, "Wait!"

You freeze in worry that she doesn't want this anymore, so you pause and look to her and let her speak. Her words come out the first time a quiet jumbled mess so you say, "What was that babe?"

She looks over her shoulder and says a little louder this time, "Can I hold a pillow?"

You think about it for a moment, and ultimately decide that if you're not going to comfort her until after, she might as well have something else to find comfort in, so you nod your head and she grabs a pillow. Once she is situated you wait for her queue and when she nods her head you begin to massage her ass a bit before pulling back and landing a harsh slap on her butt.

Natasha's hips jerk away from your hand, and in turn makes her strap rut against the bed stimulating her. She lets out a mix between a moan and a groan because she feels good, but she also knows you put limitations on her.

You continue your assault on her now red and pink ass, and the lewd sounds that are emitting from Nat's throat are making you more wet than you'd like to admit.

You slap her ass again, and she starts to uncontrollably hump the mattress, and you won't allow her to cum without asking so you grab her hips and lift them from the bed before she can stimulate herself any further. She groans and pleads, "Please. ugh please I need it!"

You simply chuckle and shake your head, "Need it so bad you're willing to give up cumming for a week?"

Her eyes widen at that threat and she whimpers knowing she might not be able to hold back since the last two came out of nowhere, but you lay her back down and say, "two more, then you can cum again."

She nods her head, crossing her fingers that she makes it, and out of nowhere the second to last slap is let out on her skin. It is way harder than all the others, so in turn, it makes Nat almost forget about what you said. Almost.

You hum and rub her ass tenderly, not letting her know when the last one is coming, and the second she whimpers again you pull back and hit her ass so hard it has her shoving her hips back into you.

She catches her breath and rolls around. You tell her to hold still as you are about to disenchant the strap, but Nat says, "Wait, baby, what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows and say, "I thought you said you were done after this orgasm?"

She nods and says, "I held it, I wanna cum with you on my cock."

Her eyes are so sweet and soft you simply can't refuse, so you let her win this time, riding her cock until the both of you come, and then you end up just laying together in a moment of tenderness.

"I love you detka."

"I love you too Natty, I'm glad you liked the surprise."

"Oh, I loved it."

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Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao

Comment to be added to the taglist!!! I have a list of prompts coming out after this :)))

A/N: I hope y'all liked it!!! (Did you catch my Love and Death reference???) Also, I apologize for the rushed ending, I really needed to get this out.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #marvel #fanfic #avengers #black widow #fanfiction #mcu

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osarina · 25 days

Text

ᡣ𐭩 OFFER ME MY DEATHLESS DEATH

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one drunken encounter with dazai sends everything spiraling. suddenly, all of your problems are catching up to you at once and you're lost as to how you should proceed... or that's not entirely true—you know how you're going to proceed but it's impossible for you to come to terms with how far you've let this go.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: sorry that i haven't really been active this week </3 i've been so busy. ill try to get to asks and everything soon. forgive me</3 i hope you guys enjoy part 5, i rlly had fun writing this chapter. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. reader and dazai argue, reader is a bit intoxicated, dazai heavily implied suicide attempt (not outright said/described bc he can't remember, but he assumes that's what happened) & he dissociates, dazai is in a pretty bad mental state the first half of the chapter, i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

You stopped seeking him out after that night.

Dazai sits in his apartment, knees curled to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He has to forcibly keep his breath steady—his homework for his engineering class is discarded somewhere to his left, he’d been working on it for class tomorrow before he made the mistake of checking his phone and seeing that you’d once again stopped reading his messages.

Two days straight now of silence on your end. He could go to your apartment like he’s been doing for the past two weeks but every time he tries to push himself to his feet with the intention of going to you, he finds himself rooted to the ground. Your words ring damningly and persistently through his head—how you told Nakahara Chuuya that you’re only doing this because he found the proof of your occupation, how you told him that you tried to cut him off.

Dazai knew what he was doing by using the video as leverage over you. He knew he was forcing you into indulging him, that he was backing you into a corner, but he’d allowed himself to be blinded by your treatment of him.

Even if it was coerced, no one has ever treated him the way you do—you remember the things he tells you off-handedly like he matters and you buy him the things he wants without him having to say anything like you care. You’re gentle with him—Dazai has only ever experienced bruising touches; Oda and Ango weren’t physical people and he can hardly remember his mother. He remembers the way his aunt dragged him out of the car kicking and screaming, tossing him to the ground in Suribachi before driving away. He remembers all of the nights he would get drunk at bars, ending up in strangers’ beds and waking up with a body that ached painfully and dark marks littered across his bandaged skin.

It’s hard to remember that you don’t actually want him when you treat him the same way he’s dreamed someone would treat him one day. It’s hard to remember that you turn your head away when he leans in to kiss you, that you ignore his lingering touches and change the subject whenever he almost gathers the nerve to bring the topic up to you.

You don’t want him.

He’s forcing you to do this by using the video as leverage.

You don’t want him.

He rests his forehead on his knees. That gaping hole in his chest that had started to return that night after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment is all consuming now. His entire body feels numb and prickly, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin.

He needs to put a stop to this.

His gaze draws from his knees to the floorboard he’s hiding the flash drive under. He could just… get rid of it. Get rid of it and disappear—you probably wouldn’t even notice. Maybe you would, he remembers how you came to his apartment when you hadn’t heard from him after sending the couch. Then again, you might’ve only shown up because you wanted to lie about why you were cutting him off. Dazai just doesn’t know with you.

Maybe he should just go to talk to you.

But if he talks to you… and the thought of leaving his apartment right now…

Dazai sighs, leaning back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling, weighing both options carefully before coming to a heavy decision.

You’re not in your apartment when he gets there.

Dazai would usually wander around and find something to make himself busy with while he waits for you. You have a piano on the opposite side of the room that he sometimes likes to fiddle with—he’s taught himself a few basic songs while waiting for you to get back from work the past few weeks. He ordered a gaming console and a few games to go along with it when you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open last week, but he doesn’t even have the energy to go look for one; not that any are even particularly standing out to him. Sometimes, he just snoops around, but his legs feel like lead, like they’re bolted to the ground, so he just sits on your couch and stares at the black television screen as the minutes tick by.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there—too long, it was still light out when he walked his way over to your building in Naka-ku and the sun had set a long time ago. He’s never felt lonely in your apartment before; in fact, he usually seeks out your apartment because he feels lonely and whether you’re here or not, it eases the void that grows in his chest.

But now? Each passing second, he feels colder and colder. A part of him thinks that he should take this as a sign and just leave, but his body is uncooperative, keeping him rooted to your couch as he awaits your return.

He’s planned out what he’s going to say to you; he’s rehearsed it in his head so many times that he thinks he could say the dreadful words while sleeping. Now, he just-

Dazai’s head snaps to the side when he hears the fateful ding of the elevator arriving at your floor. His eyes widen and his tongue swells with anxiety as he stares at the doors, his breath slows and his fingers bite into his pants as he waits to see you step into the room but when the doors finally start to slide open, he freezes when he hears laughter.

“I can’t stand you,” an unfamiliar male voice snorts and Dazai’s mouth dries as his gaze darts around, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing he wants is for a repeat of the other night—if this is another one of your mafia friends, Dazai has to move, but he doesn’t know where to go.

His gaze settles on a nearby hall leading to the bathroom and an unused room—it’s closer to him than the kitchen, he’d never make it to the kitchen because he’d have to go right past the elevator. His legs feel so heavy that it’s an effort for him to push himself to his feet. He almost stumbles right over them as he rushes into the spare room, keeping the door cracked open so he can hear and see what’s going on.

He peeks carefully through the crack, watching as two men enter your apartment—you’re with them and Dazai’s chest tightens painfully at the sight of you. You’re smiling as you lean against one of the men—Dazai recognizes him as the man who had come with you to his apartment complex the first time, he’d been waiting by the car for you—and you’re dressed prettily in a short black dress. You’re so dazzling to him that Dazai nearly tumbles right out of the room he’s hiding in, but luckily, he’s drawn out of his dazed state by another unfortunately familiar face: Nakahara Chuuya, the executive who had been at your apartment the other night.

Dazai quickly leans back into the room when the ginger’s eyes snap down the hall as if he could sense someone watching him. He lets out a puff of air as he looks around the empty room—he’d looked in here before when he first started coming to your apartment, but had been sorely disappointed by the fact that there was nothing in the room for him to snoop around in.

Now, he blinks because while the room is still mostly empty, there are some tools in here as if you’d had someone come in to take measurements to start building something in there. His gaze slides from the far wall to the one nearest to him, dragging his feet against the wood floors to slide his fingers against the lines drawn on the wall in pencil, realizing that it’s about the same size as the piano in the other room.

His throat tightens as he remembers your offer from the other day, wondering if you’d gone ahead and started having it done even after the argument with Chuuya and Dazai not showing up for two days.

God, he doesn’t understand you—he doesn’t understand you at all. He starts to doubt every conclusion he’s come to the past two days because why would you go to these lengths for someone you don’t care about? For someone who’s forcing you into indulging him through blackmail? It doesn’t make sense, Dazai has never had so much trouble reading someone before you.

He leans against the wall, lashes lowering as he looks down at the floor. He doesn’t know what to think and now his well-rehearsed speech starts crumbling in his head. Distantly, he can hear the conversation between you and the other two mafiosos—you’re talking about something happening in Tokyo and Dazai wonders if it has anything to do with that argument from the other night.

But regardless of the topic of discussion, what matters more is that you sound happy. Your voice is light and airy, and you seem entirely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t seen Dazai in days. Dazai doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so happy with him before and why would you when he’s blackmailing you? Your laughter rings bright and pretty like a chime and Dazai feels sick to his stomach at the thought of you laughing like that for someone else; he imagines the way your laughter will fizzle when you see him, all of the liveliness in your face dying at his unanticipated appearance.

It feels like an eternity and all too soon at the same time when Dazai finally hears the two leave. He takes one deep breath, preparing to force himself out from where he’s hiding but then freezes at the sound of you raising your voice.

“Dazai, you can come out now.”

He blanches, staring at the partially closed door in front of him, half-debating on not even coming out because how did you know he was here? He thought he’d been careful, there’s-

“I know you’re somewhere in here, the cushion was warm where you were sitting.”

Dazai has half a mind to throw himself out of the window.

He takes in a deep breath as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hallway that’s suddenly too cold and all too short. He swears it was twice as long when he was stumbling from the couch to hide in the spare room. His feet scuffle against the ground as he walks forward, not coming any closer than where the hallway meets your living room.

You’re laying on the couch he’d been sitting on, head resting back against the pillows and a curious expression on your face as you watch him. He can’t read it—if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was fond, but he refuses to let that hope bubble up into his chest only for it to be crushed again. He thinks he should say something, tossing around a few options in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance to.

You hold out your hand to him. “Come here,” you say.

Dazai hesitates, eyes lingering on your extended hand before flitting back up to your face. He shouldn’t—he knows he shouldn’t—but he finds his feet moving forward before he can stop himself. He stands in front of you awkwardly for a moment, not sure what you want from him, but then his eyes shoot open when you reach out and grab his wrist, tugging him forward onto the couch with you.

He pretends he doesn’t yelp when he lands on top of you, face flaming up when he shifts himself into a sitting position so that he’s straddling your waist, trying not to drop all of his weight onto you. He also pretends that he’s not entirely thrown off by the way your hands rest on his thighs, absently running them up and down the sides of them.

“Where have you been the past few days?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai’s blood pressure spikes at the curious look you give him, as if he hadn’t been texting you for days with no response. He can smell the alcohol on you now that he’s closer and he wonders how much you drank—he thinks that’s probably why you looked so fond before and that’s probably why you’re suddenly being so touchy with him, it has nothing to do with him. That empty feeling in his chest starts to return.

He should have just left, should have just destroyed the flash drive and disappeared.

“I texted you,” he replies tightly, feeling wildly uncomfortable as he’s unable to get a hold on the way he’s spiraling internally. “I can see you’ve been busy though.”

You tilt your head to the side as if you’re unsure of what he means and Dazai almost wants to get up and leave but the feeling of your hands on him, his lower body pressed to yours, it leaves him dizzy and slow. His breath catches as your hands slip beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing out against his bandaged sides, thumb drawing slow circles over the covered skin as if trying to calm him down.

Dazai thinks he might hate you.

He thinks he might hate himself more because it works. His heartbeat slows and relaxes into you a bit more. He wants to take you by the shoulders and shake you, wants to demand answers, wants to know if you actually care about him or if this is all just some big show for the flash drive.

“I haven’t looked at my phone,” you finally say. “I’ve been the one dealing with the issues in Tokyo. It’s just been meeting after meeting the past few days. I thought you’d be here when I got back but you weren’t.”

Were you waiting for him? He wants to ask. Expecting him? Or are you just saying that because you can tell he’s unhappy and don’t want to deal with his attitude? Dazai just doesn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on his body.

“Can we talk?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments.

“What about?”

About the flash drive. About you. About him. Dazai doesn’t know—about everything. So, instead he just says: “About this.”

Instantly, you turn your head away from him and Dazai’s frustration rises at your attempt at blatantly ignoring him. He reaches out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him and Dazai’s breath catches when your lidded stare lands on him.

“I’m drunk,” you tell him flatly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Bullshit,” Dazai immediately snaps, the pads of his fingers digging a bit too hard into your cheeks but you’re unfazed by it, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I think-”

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence because you’re pushing yourself up from your laying position, one hand slipping out from his sweatshirt to cup the back of his head, the other still firm on his hip as you drag him down against you. Dazai’s breath catches when you press your lips against his, lashes fluttering shut. The hand on his hip slides around to his back, holding his body flush to yours—he lets out a low moan into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip.

No, he thinks hazily, trying to push himself off of you but instead, his hands cup your cheeks and he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongues dance in a way that leaves him dazed, it feels almost intimately familiar to him, somehow so in tune with one another that it’s like you’ve kissed hundreds of times before.

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows this. You said it yourself that you’re drunk, he knows you only kissed him to get him to stop talking but…Dazai sighs into your mouth when he feels the tips of your finger card through his hair, feeling you shift beneath him to let his hips slot between your legs.

But isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time?

Aren’t you finally giving him what you’ve denied him for weeks?

Your lips are intoxicating against his, and not because of the gin staining your tongue, he can hardly focus on anything with the way your tongue traces the back of his teeth, dragging against the roof of his mouth. He groans when you shift beneath him, one leg hooking around his waist. He separates his lips from yours to gasp for breath.

Shit, he thinks, lips parting when you kiss his jaw, trailing your lips to his ear to suck gently on the skin there before kissing slowly down his neck. He swears his entire body is on fire, breaths quick and shuddered; his mind feels so muddled and hazy that he has to actively tell himself to put a stop to this and even that is almost not enough.

It takes all of his willpower to push himself off of you, still breathing heavy, lips wet and swollen, his whole body tingling everywhere your lips and hands had touched. You stare up at him and Dazai’s body aches with need when he sees you’re nearly as breathless as he is, your own lips wet from his, eyes a bit glazed over. Heat burns in his lower abdomen but he can’t, not when he knows you’re drunk and not when he knows you’re only doing this to get him to stop talking.

Before Dazai can say anything, you look away from him again and he knows that it’s over.

“I’m tired,” you say. “Help me get to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

Dazai’s lashes lower as he nods, leaning down to help you to your feet. Even with your heels kicked off, you wobble on your feet, so he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. The silence is almost foreboding as Dazai guides you up the stairs to your bedroom; you don’t make any move to break it, so Dazai does.

“We’re not going to talk about it in the morning, are we?” he asks quietly, looking down at you. You don’t look up at him and Dazai just wants you to at least look at him so when he gets you to the door of your bedroom, he stops and looks at you. You still don’t look at him. “Can you at least look at me?”

Dazai thinks he might be sick from the way you have to seemingly force yourself to look at him. Even drunk, he can see the displeasure plain on your face and it makes him want to curl in on himself again.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dazai,” you finally say, your voice is tight. “I want to go to bed.”

“I want to talk about it,” Dazai stresses. “I-”

Frustration flies across your face, emotions loosened in your intoxicated state. You turn away from him and slam open your bedroom door and Dazai winces, taking half a step back.

“It’s always what you want, Dazai,” you hiss.

Dazai’s heart sinks, shaking his head because he doesn’t want to hear where you’re going with this. “Stop.”

“For weeks, I have been catering to what you want and now I don’t want one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum over it. I don’t want to talk about this—I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t want to talk about it in the morning, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just leave it be?”

Dazai takes another step back, staring at you silently. His ears ring as your words echo through them and though he can watch your face shift from frustration to guilt, it doesn’t process in his head—not really, not when all he can hear are your words on repeat over and over again.

You reach out for him, fingers curling around his wrist but Dazai pulls his hand back, taking a step away from you, closer to the stairs. All of his fight or flight instincts are triggered, his body itches to run, to flee downstairs and get out of your apartment, but his legs are uncooperative, feet rooted to the ground as he stares at you blankly.

“I didn’t mean that,” you say after a few moments. “I didn’t-I just-”

“It’s okay,” Dazai replies, voice a bit distant even to his own ears. “I’ll drop it.”

“Dazai-”

“Let me help you get into bed,” Dazai interrupts, forcing a smile onto his face as he pushes himself forward. His movements feel weird and clunky, unnatural almost, but he successfully leads you into your room, pulling back the sheets to help you into bed. “C’mon.”

He helps you slip into the bed and pulls the sheets over you, there’s still that hazy look in your eyes as you look up at him and Dazai tries his best to make sure that the smile on his face doesn’t look strained. He’s pretty sure you can see through it even while drunk. You reach out to grab his wrist again and this time, Dazai doesn’t pull away.

“Stay here tonight,” you say quietly. “Lay down with me.”

“I have class in the morning.” Dazai shakes his head, as much as he might ache to stay in your presence, he thinks if he stays in it a moment longer, he might actually break down—he can’t get your words to stop echoing. Only a steadily crumbling dam is holding back the torrent of emotions ripping apart his chest. “I can’t.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“I have to get all of my books, and finish my homework,” he tells you. “I can’t.”

“We’ll leave early,” you press, leaning up on your elbows. “C-”

“I can’t,” Dazai stresses, taking a step back and shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to go.”

You look conflicted, but to his relief and distress, you finally let go of his wrist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. After your classes. You finish at three, right? There’s a restaurant in Minami-ku I’ve been meaning to take you to.”

Dazai’s throat spasms as he swallows, shaking his head again. “I’m busy after class tomorrow. I have meetings for group projects.”

“When are they over? I’ll pick you up after.”

He feels a bit sick to his stomach as he looks up at your ceiling, in turmoil and unsure as to what to do. He knows you’re not doing this because you feel bad—not really—he knows it has to do with the flashdrive. He knows it. He thought it would be easier having someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, even if it was only because of blackmail because at least he would have someone, but he was wrong because this is a type of torture that Dazai just can’t endure any longer.

“I’m not going to want to do anything after, I’ll be drained.”

“Then we don’t have to do anything.” God, you won’t stop trying. You won’t stop trying and Dazai knows that if it wasn’t for that stupid flash drive, you’d have laughed in his face and told him to get out. He thinks he might actually throw up. “I’ll pick up the food before going to get you. We’ll stay in. Watch a movie.”

“No,” Dazai says, raising his voice now. “No. I’m just going to go back to my place. I have to go.”

Though his legs feel like lead and his body still yearns to be near yours, he forces himself to leave your room. Doesn’t look back when you call his name. Doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs when you tell him to wait. He nearly stumbles as he makes his way down the stairs and when he gets to the bottom instead of rushing toward the elevator, he sits on the arm of your couch, resting his head in his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

You’re so frustrating. So impossible to read that it’s beginning to take a toll on Dazai. He doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on not having a conversation about all of this. He thought you would’ve wanted to have a conversation about it for the chance of getting the flash drive away from him.

You’ve done everything in your power to avoid any physical contact with him until now; only finally giving it to him when there’s an issue you really don’t want to talk about to try to distract him. Hell, you’d prefer to even talk to him about mafia business—you vented all about the issues with the Shimazaki-kai to him, and Dazai would think that’s the last thing you’d want to talk to him about.

It doesn’t make any sense.

He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sound of something buzzing against the ground a few feet away, frowning as he looks around and spots your phone on the ground, probably lost in your drunken attempts to get to the couch. He hesitates before pushing himself off the arm of the couch, taking a few steps toward it before kneeling down to pick it up.

He chews at the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the home screen of your phone, staring at Nakahara Chuuya’s name in the text notification. He knows that he shouldn’t go snooping. He knows it.

He does it anyway.

He spares one last glance up the stairs before unlocking your phone with the code he’s seen you put in hundreds of times by now, clicks on your message app and lets out a puff of air when he realizes that no, you hadn’t been lying. You have at least twenty unread message threads—Dazai’s is pinned at the top with Chuuya’s and someone called Mori, who you’ve never mentioned to him. There’s only one message thread you’ve evidently been reading the past few days considering there’s no dot next to it: Tolstoy, the last message being from a few hours ago.

He shouldn’t look. He knows he shouldn’t look.

He clicks on it anyway.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he scrolls to the top of the conversation—only a few message exchanges between the two of you, but they’re decently long.

Tolstoy: Do you still want Ilya? I can have him there by the end of next week, I just need him to finish up some business in Moscow first. You: Haven’t decided. You haven’t even given me the rundown on the side effects of his ability. I’m not going to use it if it’s going to fuck up his head—stop playing salesman and tell me what’s actually up with him. No ability comes without consequences. You know that. I know that. So stop fucking around.

Dazai suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, vision tunneling on the ‘him’ you’re speaking of in the messages. A foreboding air settles over him, dark and oppressive, he has to physically force himself to keep reading.

Tolstoy: We don’t know of any side effects. Haven’t used it enough to figure it out. You: So, you want me to use him as a lab rat? Be real, Tolstoy. Thought you had more respect for me than that. Tolstoy: I’m trying to help you. You want that kid’s memory wiped, I can have it done for you, it’s just a matter of how badly you want it done.

Dazai doesn’t read anymore than that. He drops your phone onto the couch, takes a step back, a step away. His mind spins, ears ringing as he stares down at—he doesn’t even know what he’s staring at. His vision is swimming and blurring—with tears, maybe? Or just from exhaustion? From panic? He can’t tell but he knows he’s not breathing properly and he knows he needs to leave, everything suddenly feels too suffocating, too enclosed.

He stumbles over to the elevator, slapping the button and leaning against the wall as he waits for it to come up to your floor. It takes long—too long, each second that passes feels like an eternity and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

There’s only one “him” that your texts could be referring to. And it makes sense—it makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense why you’re so willing to divulge confidential information if you don’t intend for him to keep the knowledge of it. Makes sense why you’ve been notably careless with leaving files around your apartment. Makes sense why you told him about your ability. He’d thought you were finally letting him in, letting him know you, but-but of course, you weren’t.

Of course, you weren’t.

You were just…you were just trying to keep him placated, feed him bits of information to keep him happy because you knew you weren’t going to let him keep the knowledge of it. That you were gonna wipe his memory of it, of you, and send him back into that cold, dark void that’s been following him around his entire life and-

The bing of the elevator startles him, he flinches and still, he can’t breathe. His skin feels numb and prickly, his bandages are scratching uncomfortably at the scars hidden beneath them and he can hardly see straight.

Dazai needs to go.

He needs to go.

You wake up with a dry mouth, a pounding headache and an oddly foreboding feeling hanging about you. You push yourself into a sitting position, grimacing at the sun blinding you through the window—you don’t remember much of the night. You vaguely recall leaving the club last night with Albatross and Chuuya, the two of them incessantly bitching about dealing with you while you were drunk but in your defense, you think you deserved it after three days straight of meetings with the Shimazaki-kai on behalf of the Sun and Steel.

Everything after leaving the club is a blur. You grimace as you push yourself out of bed, glancing around to see if you’d dropped your phone anywhere near the bed only to come up empty-handed. You don’t even bother to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, anxious to find your phone and figure out what happened once you left the club.

You pray to god that it’s downstairs and you hadn’t left it at the club, making your way out of the bedroom with a sigh. You doubt Chuuya or Albatross would’ve been dumb enough to leave it there, but you’re pretty sure they were both drunk too and neither of them are functioning drunks.

You’re not even halfway through the door frame when pain shoots through your head, sharp and uncomfortable and then-

“It’s always what you want, Dazai.”

Suddenly, that foreboding feeling you awoke with makes sense. You stare ahead blankly as you remember who exactly was waiting for you at your apartment after you got back from the club. You remember the argument, you remember the crushed expression that crossed his face when you snapped at him, you remember pleading with him to stay or to at least let you take him out today and you remember him refusing, his voice pitched and cracking, wobbly, on the verge of collapse because-

Because of you.

Fuck.

It’s with increasingly more urgency now that you rush yourself down the stairs, a small lingering hope remaining that maybe Dazai had stayed in one of the guest rooms or on the couch, that you could do something to fix this before it escalates even more.

You don’t even know why you said that—it’s not like you mind giving Dazai what he wants, in fact, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You like seeing his face light up when you do nice things for him, you like when he tries to hide the way he gets all flustered, you like that he’s allowed himself to have hope with you—something he’s clearly denied himself for too long—and you what?

You ruined it because you got scared?

You ruined it because you didn’t want to talk about… whatever you have going on with him?

You ruined it because you were terrified he was going to force you to come to terms with the fact that you’re using his stupid flash drive as an excuse to indulge yourself in him. That it would take minimal effort to have it destroyed but you’re putting it off because you want to be able to rationalize what you’re doing.

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize that your apartment is empty, eyes darting around to try to find your phone. You need to call him—he told you that he wanted to be alone today, or maybe he didn’t say exactly that but he implied it, but you need to at least talk to him now that you’re sober and can think straight.

A distant part of you, a cold and logical part of you, tells you to just use this as the excuse to cut him off—you don’t need to get Ilya to fuck with his mind if he just hates you, you don’t want Ilya to fuck with Dazai’s mind. The thought of it makes your chest feel tight with guilt, so maybe you should take this opportunity for what it is, no matter how shitty it might make you feel, but-

But you won’t.

Finally spotting your phone on the couch, you snatch it up and unlock it, grimacing at the low battery percentage and then grimacing even more when there’s not a single message from Dazai lighting up your home screen. There’s seven from Chuuya, three from Albatross, and two from Mori, but you’re more concerned by the missed call from an unknown number and the unread voice message.

The foreboding feeling that has been looming only grows more intense when you click on the message for it to play out loud.

“This is Doctor Okamoto of Keiyu Hospital calling on behalf of a recently admitted patient… listed you as his emergency contact when he was brought in last night… unable to disclose any information regarding his injuries over the phone… suggest that you get here soon…”

At once, your vision tunnels and everything around you becomes white noise, your gaze is pinned on the ground, a smudge on the tiled floors as you try to keep yourself grounded because what? Dazai is in the-he’s in the hospital?

Because of you?

You hadn’t been subtle approaching him that day in the library, it’s been a lingering thought since then, wondering if unsavory eyes had caught sight of you talking to him. The bar and the cafe were different, he had approached you—if any of your enemies had happened to see it, they wouldn’t think twice about it. But you approaching him had been dangerous.

It had been a mistake.

Had it been a mistake to cost him his life?

And it’s not just that—you’ve taken him out to dinners. Picked him up at his apartment building. Places that you or your trusted affiliates own but there’s always the chance… and if he left the Port Mafia building last night in a rush, upset and not thinking straight…

Oh, you might throw up.

You’re not dressed properly. You’re still wearing your dress from last night and you fumble to put on the heels you must’ve kicked off in your drunken state. You don’t even care to get dressed, more intent on getting to the hospital and figuring out if—nausea builds in the back of your throat—if Dazai is alive, if he’s okay. You need to re-listen to the voicemail because your hearing had been unfocused and you’d only been able to catch bits and pieces of the doctor’s message.

And-

And you don’t even get into the elevator because your phone is ringing again as soon as you click the button. You don’t even look at the number before picking up, fearing that it’s the hospital again—it’s not, it’s Chuuya, and you immediately regret your decision because you aren’t even able to bark out a ‘what’ before he’s speaking.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chuuya snaps on the other side of the line. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, we-”

“I’m busy,” you hiss right back, interrupting him. “I can’t talk-”

“You can talk,” Chuuya says harshly. “Get to headquarters. The Guild is in Yokohama now. We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”

You don’t respond to Chuuya, heart sinking to your feet at his words, distress clawing at your chest so painfully that you think it might be easier if you just carve out your heart and toss it out the window. You hang up the phone without another word just as the elevator makes it to your floor, but instead of going inside, you make your way back up to your room, numbly changing into one of your suits so you could at least look somewhat presentable.

You hardly even recognize yourself in the mirror as you wipe off your smudged makeup from your night out. Your eyes are vacant and your expression so empty that you think you could almost be looking at a statue.

War with the Guild. Dazai in the hospital.

Everything is catching up to you at the same time and your mind is fraying at its seams, collapsing in on itself as the weight of everything bears down on you. You do your best to compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time but you can’t even concentrate on one issue.

You try to figure out what to do about the upcoming conflict, try to determine what exactly Fitzgerald might be planning so you can figure out what the Port Mafia will retaliate with, and your mind drifts to Dazai, you wonder if he’s okay, if he’s in critical condition, if it was one of your enemies that got to him or if it was something else.

You think about Dazai, all of the fear and guilt and anxiety tearing you apart, and your mind shoots straight to the Guild. Because if Fitzgerald knows about Dazai—if he knows about Dazai—then it’s over. It’s all over. If the Guild gets their hands on him, they’ll kill him when you don’t give them what they want because you can’t give them what they want. They want Yokohama and you can’t give them that.

You can’t, not even for Dazai.

You don’t even register that you’re standing in front of the elevator again until it bings, startling you right out of your thoughts. You can’t leave the building while you’re spiraling like this—you need to get a grip on yourself, you don’t even know where you’re going yet. You need to figure out if you’re going to go meet with Mori and the other executives or if you’re going to go find Dazai.

As you step into the elevator, it takes all but five seconds for you to make a decision.

Dazai wakes up to the familiar scent of antiseptic and a citrus-scented floor cleaning solution, the air is too stale and the air-conditioning is cranked up too high. He forces his eyes open, lids heavy and uncooperative, but he immediately lets them fall shut again briefly when he’s met with too white walls and the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him.

His throat feels swollen as he stares up at the ceiling—the last time he was here in the hospital he was seventeen and had nearly bled out in the bathtub in Odasaku’s house. The only reason he hadn’t was because Ango happened to stop by the house to pick up papers that Odasaku had left for him, finding Dazai unconscious and face half-submerged in the water. He woke up here to find both of them hovering over him, Ango concerned and Odasaku visibly upset for the first time since Dazai met him.

He wakes up alone now because Odasaku is dead and he hasn’t spoken to Ango in four years—doesn’t even know where the man is anymore, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, doesn’t want to know either.

“Dazai-sama.” He hears a nurse say from the door to his room. “You’re awake, how are you…”

The nurse’s voice becomes white noise with the beeping of the heart monitor and the vents blowing above. Dazai retreats back into his own mind—a dangerous place, but right now it’s safer than the white walls that surround him, knowing he’s going to be badgered with questions that he doesn’t want to have to answer.

How are you feeling, Dazai-sama?

What happened, Dazai-sama?

We need to ask you a few questions, Dazai-sama.

Dazai feels defeated.

His head falls to the side as he stares out the nearby window, watching as a bird swoops down in view before taking off into the sky.

He doesn’t even remember what happened. He remembers leaving your apartment, he remembers… he remembers seeing your texts, your plans to wipe his memory. And… that’s about it? He vaguely remembers the familiar feeling of his lungs burning, remembers being tossed around by the rough currents of Tsurumi River. He doesn’t remember how he got there but it’s not exactly hard for him to piece together—even now, Dazai thinks he would rather be dead than have his memories forcibly erased.

“… to know what exactly hap…”

A dark and familiar cloud settles over him. His eyes feel heavy and his chest hurts. Dazai—he doesn’t even know what to think anymore. He’s so tired that his bones ache and his muscles feel so weak that he just sinks into the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

He doesn’t know what he expected—he thinks that to some extent he expected you to leave him. Everyone has left him. His mother, his aunt, all of the brief friends he’d made over the years before they see him for what he is, Odasaku and Ango—everyone has left him, so he knew that you would too but… in this manner? Using an ability to wipe his memory of you?

Dazai has considered it before. He’s wondered if maybe his life would be easier if he could just… forget. If he could live without the memory of everyone who has left him hanging over him. Some days, on really bad days, he thinks it might be easier. To try to make himself feel better, he thinks that maybe he isn’t the issue, maybe it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy, that it’s his past experiences cursing him to make the same mistakes over and over again; that without them, he might stand a chance.

But then when he thinks about it—when he really thinks about it—he knows in his heart that it’s not true, and he knows that without the memory of them all, Dazai will only feel more empty. And to think that you were trying to take his memories of you from him… without even asking, without giving him a choice in the matter… it almost makes Dazai-

“Dazai.”

His gaze snaps to the side when he hears your familiar voice come from the door leading into his room. Instantly, he’s shaking his head and looking away again, he can’t even bear to look at you but you’re walking over to him, you’re coming to his bedside, you’re sitting next to him on the hospital bed and you’re reaching out to cup his cheek, forcibly turning his face to make him look at you. You look worried, something sharp and concerned in your eyes that makes his throat swell and he wants to spit at you and call you a liar but he can only sink into your touch.

“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, almost painful for him to use.

“What happened?” you ask him quietly instead of answering his question—you never answer his questions, you always deflect, always maneuver around them. The ones you do answer, it’s only because you plan to- “Dazai, what happened? Are you okay?”

Dazai doesn’t know how you can look at him like this all the while planning the most diabolical betrayal that he could ever imagine. You’re either an actress deserving of international recognition or… or Dazai doesn’t even know.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Why are you here?”

“The hospital called me-”

“But why are you here?” Dazai cuts you off, grateful that his voice is firmer than the turmoil wreaking havoc through him. He must’ve given them your number while he was half-delirious when he was brought in—he figured that out already—but that doesn’t explain why you actually came. “Why did you come?”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say as if Dazai should believe you.

And he wants to believe you. Wants to believe that you’d come running just at the mere idea of him being hurt, wants to believe that you would care enough to come for him. He wants to believe you so bad, but he knows what he saw.

“Don’t lie to me,” Dazai tells you, finally gathering the willpower to pull his face away from where it’s resting in the palm of your hand. You don’t even let him shift away, hand slipping behind him to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined with his hair. “Stop.”

“I’m not lying to you,” you say like a liar. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

You sigh heavily and Dazai hates the way you’re absently drawing circles against the nape of his neck with your thumb, hates how it makes him feel at ease and especially hates the way his lashes instinctually flutter shut.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night, Dazai,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost believes you. Almost. “I was drunk, I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care about that,” Dazai says, proud of the way his voice stays sharp and cold. “I saw the messages between you and Tolstoy. I know what you’re planning. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to look at you, just leave me alone.”

You draw back at his words, concerned expression melting into a blank slate as you pull your hand away to sit back straight. Dazai misses your touch instantly, longs for the warmth to return but he forces himself to ignore it all, keeping his gaze pinned on you, watching the way your mind races behind your eyes. He wonders if you’re trying to figure out if you can salvage this, wonders if you’re going to lie.

Instead, a heavy look settles over your face as you frown, glancing back at the way you came and for a moment, Dazai thinks you’re just going to leave. You rise to your feet and words lodge in the back of his throat, preparing to spit insults at you: he wants to call you a coward, a liar, wants to tell you that you’re cruel and vile and he can hardly even stand to look at you.

But then you look back at him and hold out your hand to him. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s sneak you out of here… I’ll explain everything when we get out of the hospital.”

Dazai wants to be spiteful, wants to turn his head away and ignore you, wants to slap your hand and tell you that there’s no explaining what he saw.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he places his hand in yours and lets that treacherous, treacherous spec of hope bloom in his chest again.

Dazai hasn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. You’ve tried to make small talk with him, but every time, he just turns his head away to look out the window. You gave up twenty minutes ago and Dazai is already regretting not indulging conversation with you because the silence is agonizing. He knows he should break it, but he doesn't know how to now.

He glances at you from the corner of your eye. You’re leaning back against your seat, one hand on the steering wheel—he can’t see your eyes because they’re masked by sunglasses, but he can see the way your free hand rests on the gear stick, knuckles tense.

“What is this place?” Dazai clears his throat as he leans forward in his seat, peering out the windshield of your car to try to figure out where you’re taking him. He forces his tone to lighten, the smile on his lips strained. “Are you kidnapping me? Oh! Or are you taking me to some remote cabin to kill me? Bella, you truly know the way to a man’s heart.”

You let out a heavy sigh, one that makes Dazai toss a sweet smile in your direction.

Some type of beach house, he recognizes as you pull up a windy road to the top of a cliff looking over the water. He can see to his left a path leading down to the water and to his right a nice view of a distant pier. It’s not a large house, but it’s nice—well-kept and refurbished with a view over Sagami Bay. It’s not too far out from Yokohama, probably only a little over an hour, but considering Dazai’s never left the city in his entire life, this might be the furthest he’s ever been. He can almost feel a bit of excitement bubbling in his chest.

“I wanted to take you here, away from the city for a bit,” you finally say, fingers thrumming against the wheel of the car as you slowly guide the car up the gravel path. “So we can talk in peace.”

Your bland words whittle away his excitement and Dazai’s smile falters. He tries to distract himself with counting the strands hanging off the sleeve of his sweater but keeps losing count.

“Something you couldn’t have talked to me about in Yokohama?” Dazai asks airly as you pull to a stop in front of the beach house.

He doesn’t turn to look at you, doesn’t move until you finally get out of the car, reaching into the back seat to grab two duffle bags, nodding for him to follow you.

Wow, he thinks dryly, you came prepared.

Dazai feels distinctly like he’s walking to his execution as he follows you to the steps leading up to the house, but instead of walking up them, you toss the bags on the porch and then continue up the path.

You’re going to push him off a cliff, Dazai thinks, feet dragging against the gravel as he follows you. This is it, all of the years that he’s longed for death and it’s finally about to find him at your hands.

“I might not die from the fall,” Dazai says, words drawn long as he pouts. “You wouldn’t really leave me to suffer in freezing water, would you?”

“No,” you say, glancing back at him. He lets out a quiet breath of relief that’s quickly snuffed out when you add, “I’m not that sloppy with my kills. I’d kill you before dumping your body over the side of the cliff.”

Dazai blanches, but your lips curl up into an amused smile so he settles down, sighing as he purposely knocks his shoulder with yours.

“My bella is so cruel,” he sighs dramatically. “She hates me.”

You sigh as you reach the edge of the cliff, not turning to look at him. The wind whips around the two of you—it’s a cool, early spring night, the temperature just enough to be uncomfortable but you don’t seem bothered by it as you stare out across the water as the sun starts to set.

You’re beautiful, Dazai thinks, breath catching at the sight of you beneath the setting sun. The golden rays cast an ethereal glow over you, the wind ruffles your clothes and hair, and your expression is solemn in a way that’s become terribly familiar the past few weeks.

“I’m not going to do anything with the video,” Dazai finally says, voice quiet—finally taking the chance to say what he wanted to say last night. “You don’t have to keep… pandering to me because you’re trying to protect yourself. I was never going to do anything with it, I just… wanted you to give me a chance.”

When you look over your shoulder, you give Dazai a small, genuine smile that makes all of the air whoosh from his lungs.

“Dazai, I’ve known you weren’t going to do anything with that video since day one,” you say, amused. “If I thought you were, I would’ve had someone confiscate it from your apartment.”

Dazai’s lips part, mind racing. “But then why-”

Your smile softens at the edges and you sigh as you lower yourself down to the ground, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Dazai joins you, thigh brushing yours and shoulders absently knocking together. Your hands rest in your lap and Dazai’s fingers twitch to reach for yours. He only hardly refrains himself.

“I don’t remember a life before this,” you say after a few moments, a distant look in your eyes as you stare ahead. “When I was seven… eight, maybe, I was pulled out of a warzone by the current leader of the Mafia. I don’t even remember my parents—anything about them. Their names. Faces. What they sounded like, what their job was. Mori… he found me in my town sitting in the middle of a whole pile of bodies and I couldn’t even point out which pair of corpses were my parents. I don’t remember anything before him… It’s all just black. Blurred.”

Dazai stares at you, eyes a bit wide as he listens to you speak. His lips part to say something but he decides against it, instead he seals his lips back shut and presses his shoulder against yours. Mori—that was the other name pinned up with Dazai’s message thread and Nakahara Chuuya’s—he must be the Port Mafia boss. His gaze traces your face as you stare ahead, catching the melancholic expression on your face. He itches to reach for your hand.

“I could hardly remember anything about myself. My first name… that’s just about it. My new birthday became the day Mori found me, my new surname—when needed—was his, he… he became my reason to live when I had none. Gave me a purpose,” you tell him faintly. “I spent two years on a warfront trying to figure out what my ability was so I could be the finishing touches of the immortal regiment that he was trying to create. As far as I remember, all I’ve known is… this. Him.”

Dazai wants to say something but every word he tries to push out dies on his tongue. Instead, he finally does reach out to grab your hand, fingers curling around yours tightly. You look down briefly, an unreadable expression on your face before it softens and… and for a split second, Dazai can see you, he can see you: not a hardened executive of a mafia, but an eight-year-old girl, lost and confused and landing in the arms of the wrong man, and it makes him sick.

The traitorous part of him wonders if you’re only telling him this because you still plan on following through with the memory wipe, so Dazai does what he always does when someone threatens to take one of the few things he wants—he digs his claws in and doesn’t let go.

“The war ended before I could figure out how to use my ability and I followed… him to the underground. We ended up with the Port Mafia while the previous boss and his family were still leading. He was…” You trail off, frowning. “Dangerous. Yokohama was a terrible place under his leadership. He slaughtered civilians who spoke poorly about him and the Mafia, killed his own men for looking at him wrong… Mori became his doctor and for the good of the city, he decided to kill him.”

“I remember the old boss—what he did to the city,” Dazai says quietly—how could he not? His aunt was terrified of being in Yokohama because of him, was constantly talking about leaving the city… she finally did after dumping Dazai off in Suribachi and leaving him to fend for himself against the wolves. “It was bad.”

“It was,” you agree absently. “Mori—he wanted it to be as bloodless as possible. He tried every route, but the only way for it to be bloodless was if he had someone to corroborate that the previous boss died in his sleep and left the Port Mafia to him.”

Dazai almost scoffs.

“No one would believe that.”

“We’d hoped maybe one of his grandchildren would step up. Even if it was clearly a lie, people would have to listen because they were his blood,” you say with a wry smile. “They didn’t.”

“So, what happened then?” he presses when you don’t immediately continue. He frowns when he catches the sudden change in your demeanor, like you’re sick to your stomach, unable to push out the next words. He feels a bit dreadful, squeezing your hand gently.

“We had to wipe out the whole family,” you whisper, looking down at your lap, “and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s granddaughter—she was asleep, had a bear tucked in her arm and a nightlight on the right side of her bed. I slit her throat, then both of her older brothers. They were kids.”

Oh.

Dazai’s throat spasm as he swallows, the picture forming in his head cold and chilling, but instead he forces out:

“You were a kid too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time,” you say, voice flat, leaving no room for argument. “We hunted down the whole bloodline, immediate to extended family. Mori was insistent on it, said we couldn’t risk one of them ever returning and upending everything we’ve built. He’s still searching for some to this day just to make sure.”

That’s… foreboding to say the least. Dazai watches you carefully, the grim expression on your face and the frown on your lips. He pulls your hand into his lap, tracing your fingers gently to try to ease you and he watches from the corner of his eye as your expression softens again when you look at him. It makes his chest feel tight and fluttery.

“I was sixteen when I met Itou.” The cold expression on your face warms at the unfamiliar name. Dazai watches as the corner of your lips curve up into a fond smile, as if you’re reminiscing. “He was seventeen. We were partnered up for years. This was his beach house—or, well, I don’t know whose it was but Itou took it. He was awful, honestly. A terrible fucking person, had more blood on his hands than any other member of the Mafia, found way too much joy in tormenting people. He was awful, but he was the closest thing I had to family. He tried to show me a world beyond just… bloodshed and violence. Took me to amusement parks on days off, snuck me onto school trips with random groups of kids and told me to ‘blend in’ as training for infiltration missions, showed me how to live, not just… survive. He died on a mission a few weeks after I turned eighteen, made me promise him that I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be without him, that I’d at least try to be happy.”

Double oh.

Dazai almost does throw up now, mind drawing back to a face that has been haunting Dazai for four years now, Odasaku’s last words ring through his head painfully—a reminder of his own inadequacy, of his failure to fulfill his friend’s dying wish.

He remembers the way your face shifted when he told you about Odasaku at Kido’s Boutique and he wonders if he’d reminded you of Itou back then when he spoke of the man and his promise, just like how he was reminded now. His grip on your hand tightens unintentionally—as if you can sense his thoughts, you squeeze his fingers gently.

“I didn’t,” you say with a tight smile. “Threw myself into work, accepted that my fate was to live, breathe and die for the Port Mafia. I didn’t see the point of anything—well, not until I met you, at least.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker up to you, breath catching when you meet his gaze this time. And god, you look beautiful—so beautiful that Dazai thinks that if he dies now, he could die happy. He almost wishes that he could die now, fall off the side of the cliff with the image of you burned behind his eyelids. It would be a better death than he deserved.

“You made me happy. Make me happy,,” you tell him quietly and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat. “So effortlessly that I can’t even understand how you do it, but it’s impossible for me to justify dragging you into this world just because I’m selfish.” Dazai parts his lips to disagree but you don’t even give him a chance to speak. “So when you came to me with your stupid blackmail, it was so… easy to just use it as an excuse for me to indulge in you.”

Dazai doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t get it. You’re sitting here talking to him, explaining everything, and Dazai still doesn’t understand. He makes you happy—he makes you happy and you make him happy, there doesn’t need to be any more complications than that. You don’t have to push him away, you don’t have to cut him off, you don’t have to use that memory wiping ability on him.

“I don’t understand,” Dazai says, voice hoarse. “You make me happy too, so why is…”

“Because Chuuya is right,” you say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “The risks… Dazai, you can’t ask me to put you in danger like this. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair to cut me off because you’re scared,” Dazai counters, voice a bit pitched. “It’s not fair that you want to wipe my memory without my consent. I don’t care about danger, I don’t-”

You look at him sharply, an intense expression on your face that makes Dazai hesitate.

“I never would have done it without talking to you first,” you say tightly. “Do you really think that little of me?”

Dazai looks away, not answering the question. “I never would have agreed to it,” he replies, voice equally tight as yours. “Never. It’d be a waste of your time.”

You sigh and Dazai feels you shift next to him but he pointedly keeps his gaze trained ahead, refusing to look at you. He feels your fingers brush his cheek before the pressure becomes a bit firmer as you turn his face so that he’s looking at you. You’re so close that his nose brushes yours, the pads of your fingers are warm against his skin; if he leans in just a bit, he’d be able to kiss you.

He wants to kiss you.

“You don’t know what’s at stake,” you say softly, breath fanning across his lips as you speak. He can almost taste the mixture of mint and nicotine on your lips—you smoke when you’re nervous, he’s noticed it over the past few weeks with you. The more nervous you are, the more cigarettes you run through; he wonders how many cigarettes you’ve gone through since you’ve gotten the call from the hospital. “The danger-”

“You want me,” Dazai whispers, squeezing your hand, leaning in a bit more. “No one has ever wanted me before. Not like this. Not for me. You want me.”

The last sentence—it doesn’t come out as a statement, it comes out as a plea. He wants you to say it. You didn’t the last time, but he needs to hear it now. Desperately. His nails dig into your hands, he doesn’t even dare to breathe as he waits for you to speak.

“I want you,” you agree, voice so quiet like you don’t even dare to speak the words out loud in fear of the consequences of them. “I want you. I want you so bad that it scares me, Dazai Osamu.”

And Dazai breathes. The breath he lets out is long and shaky, the relief that sweeps over him is almost debilitating. He searches your eyes to make sure you mean it and when he only finds honesty and a type of fear that he’s never seen in you before, Dazai knows.

“You think it doesn’t scare me?” Dazai asks you, voice cracking. “Everything I ever come to want is always lost. Ever since that first day we met, I-I knew that I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before and I’ve been terrified that one day you’ll leave me. Promise me that you won’t. Promise me.”

You stare at him and for a terrible moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to shake your head and say you can’t, but then you swallow, nod and say, “I promise.”

Dazai kisses you. And then he kisses you again. And again. And again. Until his lungs burn and he can feel your lips curve up against his and even then, he kisses you still. Kisses you as the sun sets over the bay and the moon rises above the mountains. Kisses you until the wind becomes too bitter for the two of you to stay outside and still, he smiles as he peppers kisses across your face, walking back down the path to the beach house.

He ignores how your phone has been buzzing incessantly all night, praying for at least one day of peace before reality slaps the two of you in the face again.

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai osamu x you

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ultravioletrayz · 2 months

Text

soccer dad!miguel who, even with all the stress of his divorce, being a single father, and his job as a fancy geneticist at Alchemax, manages to keep a tidy home. His apartment is pretty minimalist, with the exception of a few decorations and clutter items that obviously stem from Gabriela's influence. Upon scanning the place, you take a breath and hold Tony's hand as the two of you step past Miguel and make your way inside. You nudge Tony slightly, coaxing a smile out of him directed at Gabriela, who politely smiles back.

"Um, you can come with me, if you want. I can show you the game room." Gabriela offers Tony, gesturing for him to follow her through the big apartment. You cant help but smile at how welcoming the little girl is compared to her father, who's still standing in the open front doorway, as if contemplating his choices.

Tony follows Gabriela with a little bit of resistance, now associating her company with being berated by her scary ass dad. But once he looks back and sees that Miguel isn't getting as involved as usual, Tony happily lets Gabriela lead him to the game room.

soccer dad!miguel who is stuck standing in a trance after your shoulder brushed against his upper abdomen so softly. God, it's been so long since a woman touched him so gently, and he feels like a creep for being paralysed by such an unintentional graze of your body against his.

But once the kids have left and you're left standing awkwardly in the entryway, Miguel sighs and pulls himself together, still feeling the musculature of his chest area vibrating with warmth as he shuts the door and walks towards you.

soccer dad!miguel who leads you to the kitchen, offering you a seat at the kitchen counter. Once you've sat down on a stool, Miguel leans against the counter, trying to act suave, wanting to win you over for the sake of the soccer matches, Gabriela, and his love life.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice?" Miguel questions, eyeing the way that your big jacket somehow fails to swallow up and conceal your supple breasts, the rippling, doughy flesh sitting pretty in the cute little shirt you're wearing. The sight makes him lick his lips, his fangs protruding ever so slightly from their spaces inside his mouth, dripping with desire to taste whatever you have to offer.

He's so caught up in the sight of your young, ripe body, that he completely misses your answer to his question.

"Miguel. My coffee?" You prompt with a raised brow, snapping him out of his more than disrespectful trance. Without acknowledging you or what just happened, Miguel swivels on his heels and marches towards the coffee machine, cursing himself and fighting the urge to slap himself upside the head for being so gross. He's just so desperate for some love and affection, especially from a pretty little thing like you, who's good with kids, sassy, likes soccer, and is busty as fuck. It got the better of him.

soccer dad!miguel who knows he's more than likely blown the whole thing for himself now, so from the coffee machine, his broad, defined back still facing you, he makes some rectifying attempts at small talk.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, why is it that Tony's parents don't take him to his games? Why you?" Miguel asks, his voice gentle in case it happens to be a touchy subject as the whirring of the machine acts as a subtle background noise to ease the initial tension and awkwardness.

"No, no, it's fine. I don't mind. They both just work a lot and they can't find the time or energy for his activities. So it becomes aunt duty. But he's my brother's kid, so of course it's no problem." You answer, being much better than Miguel at remaining focused on conversation... even while your eyes wander. The way his toned back curves at his small waist, his delts and lats so defined beneath his black shirt, the roundness of his ass, the thick, sculpted muscle of his thighs and long legs. He looks like a Greek God, an annoying, asshole sort of one, but he's fine nonetheless.

soccer dad!miguel who nods along with your words as he hands you your mug full of warm coffee. He rests his elbows against the countertop in front of you, sharp red eyes staring into your soul, trying to learn more about you than he can from just your words, wanting to see, wanting to feel the kind of woman you are, you were, you want to become.

And just like that, the two of you slowly develop a rapport, conversing back and forth, sharing stories about Gabriela and Tony, talking shit about your ex boyfriend and Miguel's ex wife, and obviously exchanging lengthy apologies for some of the awful things you had said to each other at the kids' last game.

Miguel's wide, toothy grin. Your melodic, enthralled giggles. They're things neither of you have shown another person in quite some time. And a mere week ago, the two of you would be appalled at the notion that you'd be getting along so well after almost beating the shit out of each other at an Under 9's soccer game.

soccer dad!miguel who's smile grows even warmer when he hears Gabi and Tony laughing and playing on her Switch in the game room.

This is the sound he misses, back in the early days when he still thought his bitch of an ex wife was a loyal, loving woman.

This is the sound he wants to hear every Saturday morning before taking Gabriela and the baby he'd give you to his eldest's soccer game. He'd set up a sturdy little lawn chair for you on the sidelines, and try not to focus on how beautiful you look holding his little baby in your arms when he's supposed to be watching Gabriela destroy the opposition. All he's ever wanted is to experience a family life that isn't so fucking dysfunctional. Even though you seemed to be the definition of it when the two of you had first met, Miguel knows he can achieve that with you.

"Let's get out of the kitchen, hm? Ven conmigo." Miguel decides once there's a break in the conversation, walking over to your stool and holding out a large, calloused hand to assist you. Part of him thinks he might be overdoing with the whole chivalry thing out of the guilt still haunting him from how he's treated you, but he also thinks it's just enough flattery to win you over in the end.

You roll your eyes and giggle, but gladly take his hand in your own and get up. You can't lie, you sort of hope he takes you for a tour of the bedroom and ends up bending you over the side of his bed and fucking ruining you. But you also just want to get to know this big, mean, lonely single-dad, whose charm is startlingly working on you.

soccer dad!miguel who watches you intently as you stare at an old picture hanging on the wall in the living room of Miguel and his ex wife's wedding day. He looked so young, so happy, and she looked like she was being held at gunpoint. But still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that it wasn't you in that photo, and instead some cheating whore that didn't deserve a beautiful, strong man like Miguel.

"Don't get too caught up in the details. I mean, you've seen firsthand that there's ample reason why I'd get dumped like that." Miguel chuckles, trying to lighten the mood with his self-deprecating joke, but making it worse.

"You're a smartass, sure. But you didn't deserve what happened. And Gabriela definitely didn't, either." You answer softly, your gaze still focused on overanalysing the framed photograph. Miguel frowns at your comment about Gabriela, and it's definitely true.

And the fact that you even care about Gabriela and are aware of her struggles, it makes him fall even harder. It's so typical, obviously anyone would show sympathy for a little girl who's parents have divorced, but something about it coming from you of all people makes Miguel stop thinking right.

soccer dad!miguel who pinches the bridge of his nose harshly after he blurts out a swift "Do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?" like an idiot. He's damn near close to 40 asking a gorgeous, younger woman like you out on a date... he's too desperate for his own good. He should've just minded his own business when Gabi was getting shoved and tackled by Tony those few weeks ago. Instead, he went and dug himself a hole of humiliation. This was a complete waste of time. He shouldn't be so desperate for a woman in his life. He's a god damn man, he's got his daughter and himself to keep him going. This is pathetic, and as if you'd say 'yes' after he called you such vulgar names and damn near attacked your nephew.

So, when your lips part and your gorgeous body stiffens so suddenly, Miguel is almost tripping over himself attempting to apologise, which just makes the warm buzzing in your bones increase at such a strangely adorable sight.

"Relax! I was gonna say yes!" You giggle, reaching out to grasp Miguel's thick, hair-covered forearm, squeezing it reassuringly as you look him in the eyes. He's speechless. For once, the witty douchebag has nothing to say. And he loves that you're able to do that to him.

In that moment, the kids come running into the living room, shouting and laughing about who beat who and how funny the games they were playing were, making you laugh even harder at the frenzied emotions all around you. And Miguel's overjoyed that he gets another chance to make it up to you after what happened.

"Oh. So, um, I'll pick you up at 8?" Miguel stammers, his tan, chiseled, handsome face graced by a bashful, pinkish hue. You nod and smile in response as Gabriela and Tony zip around the two of you as you stare into each other's eyes with an almost sinful longing. Fingers crossed neither of you sassy fucks mess this up for yourselves.

PREV. PART, NEXT PART

tagging people in part 4:

@lauraolar14 @mcmiracles @mimiemie @szal0v3r @jadeloverxd @raginghomo62 @faimmm @princesatracionera @keepitreal001 @rxckstarss @ghost-lantern @rhythmloid @lazyjellyfish300 @shadofireshinobi @t4naiis @laufftuhh @grapejuicenads @xxsugarbonesxx @lounilu @kerwin290710 @straw-berry-ghoul @lizaistewdelulu @questionable-behaviour @daddysfavoritesexkitten @kocho-catt @envyjmoney @6thhokageswife @vivianite-is-dead @improbable-outset @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @monarchberrysblog @0strawberrysorbet0 @mreowmoreww @delectableworm @miguels-aranita @ce3stvu @reader-1290 @queenmimis @keiva1000 @mikyapixie @bunnibitez @marshhbs @vera4luv @soph121212 @leviathxn

#ultravioletrayz #soccer dad!miggy #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x reader

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glow-worms-are-believers · 11 months

Text

Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)

“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,” The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”

“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”

Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.

“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”

“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.

“Nobody will look for her.”

Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.

“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly.

He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.

“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.

“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.

“What?” The halfa choked out.

“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.

“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible.

“Give me your word,” she insisted.

“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”

The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied.

She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!

Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.

As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.

What the hell was his life.

Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.

The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.

“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.

Ancients what was he going to do?

He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.

Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.

Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.

“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”

Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.

The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.

Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.

“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.

The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again.

“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.

Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.

“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”

And with that the three of them started across the grassy lawn.

#Alfred think the baby is Danny's sibling and they ran away from an abusive household #I know this is all tropes that have been done before but dammit I'm doing them again #The batam trying to be in denial of the imminent new addition to the family or unsurprised and way too chill about it #Danny thinking he's found an ally into getting himself kicked out with Damian #only for Damian to get attached to the baby and then refuse to let Danny abandon his “sister”#Danny trying to get out of this mess of lies without letting it out that he 1) is not human 2) has totally kidnapped that baby #dc x dp #dp x dc #roxpoxwrote #roxpox

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gguk-n · 3 months

Text

Renewed Passion (Lewis Hamilton x Reader)

Summary- What happens when you meet your right person, wrong time after 18 years of actively avoiding him? Will the love that stayed dormant bloom in full spring or stay dormant? Will you give your heart a chance or will you listen to your brain?

I wanted to make this as cohesive as possible. Sorry if it's not. Google translated Italian. Kinda fucking long lmao. Implied smut.

Part 2

mio dolce bambino- my sweet child

Amore- Love

Il moroso- Sweetheart

[Reader's POV]

I opened the door to my neighbours house and walked right into the kitchen. Manuela was making pasta. It was our traditional bi-annual movie night with the Antonelli's. Our families have been neighbours and friends for generations. Me and Manuela had grown closer after she married Marco, so close in fact, that she made me Andrea's god mother when he was born.

Speak of the devil, Andrea walked into the kitchen and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. Andrea was on track to becoming a F1 driver. He had the passion and drive in him. I've watched him race a couple times. But I try to keep my distance from race tracks. "I missed you, zia" Kimi exclaimed. I smiled at him patting his back, "aww, I missed you too" "I wouldn't have, if you came to the race." he pouted. "Everyone had come. It was literally the home race and you didn't" he sulked. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I just had a lot of work" I reasoned while giving him a hug. The real reason I didn't go to the race wasn't work and it made me feel like a shitty aunt for not being there for this kid, I considered my own.

"Toto and the Mercedes team met me, again." Kimi announced. I looked at him quizzically. "If you had been present in your nephew's life, you would know." he chided. I apologised and asked him to elaborate. "Well, Toto needs another driver on the grid for Mercedes." he said. "Oh, does Lewis need a new teammate." I asked. "For someone who's nephew is a F2 driver, you know nothing about the sport." he declared. "You know I don't enjoy sports." I reasoned. Actually I stopped watching F1 after 2007. "Actually, Lewis is moving to Ferrari next year, so Toto needs another driver next year with Russel." I was shocked. "Zia, are you listening?" Kimi asked. "Oh, yeah, sorry." I apologised. "You have to come to the Monaco race." he demanded. "You know I'm so busy and I don't even get the race, it'll be so annoying for you." I tried to convince him. He was having none of that. Sadly, I was emotionally black mailed into attending the race in Monaco.

The race weekend was in full swing, Manuela was busy and couldn't make it, so I had to be present for the whole weekend with Marco. Formula one were honouring Ayrton Senna. I was forced by Kimi on to the paddock. With my luck, I almost immediately ran into Sebastian as Kimi left me alone to greet his friends. "Y/N?" Sebastian squinted at me. I smiled and walked towards him, raising my hand with a smile, "Yeah, that's me, Sebastian." I said. He shook my hand. "It's been so long, when did I last see you?" he asked, getting lost in thought. "Macau Grand Prix, 2005" I said. His eyes widened. "I'm surprised, you even recognised me." I laughed. "I don't think I can forget, you and Lewis were insufferable. Both of you made sure we felt lonely." he reminisced. I faked a laugh, "Yeah, that was so long ago. How've you been?" I asked trying to change the topic. "I've been good. I retired." he said. "I heard. That was a good run." I nodded along to my words. "What brings you here?" he quizzed. "My god-son is a F2 racer. He dragged me here." I replied. "Really?? Who is it? Do I know him?" he questioned. "I'm not sure if you do, but Kimi Antonelli is my god-son." I explained. "The 17 year old Toto is after." he chuckled. "It was nice meeting you. See you around Y/N" Sebastian said while leaving after being summoned.

I walked around the paddock. This was my first time in Monaco. I had been able to avoid most of Kimi's races when he was younger since he would believe whatever I said. As he grew older, it kept getting even more difficult since he is quite persistent and tenacious when he wants something; traits you want in a racer not your nephew.

I enjoyed the cool wind blowing through the paddock until I heard Kimi, "Zia" he shouted out to me. I turned around to see Kimi running towards me, "I want you to meet someone." he said dragging me to where he came from. We stopped in front of the man I spent the past 18 years avoiding. "Zia, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis this is my god-mother, Y/N Y/L/N." he introduced us. Lewis was always and will always be the love of my life. I kept up with the sport enough to know what he did. Eventually, I stopped obsessing over it. He slowly faded into my memories. He was the reason I never paid any attention to F1. I avoided it as much as possible. He was my right person, wrong place. I never truly moved on from him, I mulled over my thoughts as I was snapped out of them to quickly raise my hand towards him. He shook my hand. It was still slightly rough from all the years of driving; tears pricked my eyes.

Kimi couldn't stop gushing about me to Lewis. His eyes seemed so familiar yet so unknown. The years had treated him well, having won the World Driver's Championship 7 times and ageing like fine wine; I thought. I had lost track of what the conversation in front of me was until Kimi excused himself and asked me to keep Lewis company till he returned. My mouth hung open to protest as Kimi walked away. "You'll catch a fly, darling." Lewis said while using his index finger to close my mouth. I moved back from the sudden touch. "Do you still hate me?" he asked with a pained expression. I could never hate you Lewis, those words remained in my throat. "No" I mumbled. "That's a relief. I hope you only remember the good times." he stated hopefully. I just smiled at him. "I should get going" I announced, turning around until I felt a hand wrapped around my wrists, "Aren't you supposed to be in the Mercedes hospitality" he asked softly. I hated it when he was right. I turned around with a forced smile; "It's my first time in Monaco, I gonna walk around for a bit." I said pulling my hand away from him. "Then I can walk with you, since I've been living here for years" he exclaimed. "If I wanted to walk around with my ex, I would've said so." I stated firmly; walking away swiftly. This was going to be a long weekend.

After walking around for a while and tiring myself out, I met up with Marco who was in deep conversation with Toto. Both of them greeted me and Marco introduced me to Toto. I was a casual spectator in on their conversation when Lewis joined in. Marco knew of the history me and Lewis shared, he would be on the receiving end of my pining. They must've ran into each other at some point; did he never mention me? or Ask about me to Lewis; I wondered. "You look bored" broke me out of my thought, Lewis's lips extremely close to my ear. I shifted to the side, almost falling from losing my balance.I braced my self for the impact that never came, strong arms enveloped me, pulling me close. Time slowed as I found myself locked in gaze with my saviour. I could feel his breath against my face; a sense of warmth spread though my stomach. "You okay" he murmured softly. It was like time had stopped. My eyes slowly darted to the two other men in front of; I quickly pushed Lewis away and straightened myself. "I'm fine. Thank you for catching me. I'm gonna go get some water" I rambled, excusing myself to the refreshments. I almost sprinted to the table, grabbing a bottle; when Lewis took it from me and handed me back an opened bottle. "Still as clumsy as I remember" Lewis chuckled. I gulped the water down. This was not how I imagined ever running into my ex. Let's hope the weekend ends without any more trouble.

I was ready to leave mid-way through the day, but Kimi had a tight hold on my arm as he took me along to introduce me to his friends. I had brought some cookies and treats as a present for the other boys. They all seemed quite well mannered, I must say, for a bunch of teenager. Even when me and Lewis dated, it was like we had magnets attached to us, we'd always be gravitating towards each other. My eyes met Lewis's for a split second before I brought my attention back to Oliver Bearmen, a good friend of Kimi's.

Flashback

"Come on, Y/N. I don't wanna go alone." Mia, my roommate moaned. "Then don't go" I chided. The look of shock on her face was priceless. "Those tickets were fucking expensive and you said you'd do anything for me." she pleaded. "yeah, anything means anything around the house. You know I don't even like racing, it's so" I stopped looking for a better word but none came to mind "boring" I continued. "You did not just say that" she replied in disbelief. That's how I ended up at a Formula Renault UK race in Silverstone in 2003.

Mia had gotten us good seats, I decided to find some snacks to entertain me during the race so I excused myself to the stands to grab something. On the way there, I ran into a man. I braced myself for the fall instead two arms wrapped themselves around my waist steading me and pulling me closer. I opened my eyes to be face to face with a pair of chocolate brown eyes. My heart lurched into my chest. "You okay" he asked. "I'm fine" I replied still in his arms. "As much as I would love to have you in my arms, I have some where to be" he stated. Embarrassed, I fixed myself up. "Thank you..." I looked at him expectantly to say his name. "Lewis, Lewis Hamilton" he replied extending his arm out. "Thank you, Lewis. Y/N" I said while shaking his hand. "You're here for the race, right?" he asked. "Sadly, yes" I responded. A playful smile played across lips at the answer, "well then, let's meet after it's done?" he asked hopefully. "Sure, at least I have something to look forward too" I smiled. "I'll try to make the race eventful" he called out as he ran away.

I didn't know the guy I ran into was a racer. Only found that out when he won the race and was called on the podium. I decided to return to the same place we had the collision, in hopes of running into him again. I waited around until I heard someone call out my name; there stood a very sweaty and wreaked of champaign Lewis. "Congratulations" I commented. "Thank you" he replied. "Didn't take you for a racer" I cocked my eyebrow at him. "Did you like the race?" he asked with a cocky grin on his face. "Not really" I chuckled. "Well I can make it up to you, if you would like me to" he questioned. "And how would you do that?" I asked. "Go on a date with me" he asked with the softest and brightest eyes. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr Hamilton" I replied. I acted like I was thinking before I agreed to go out with him.

Present time

"Earth to zia, you there?" Kimi asked. "Yeah, what were you boys saying, again?" I asked. "Do you have a crush on Lewis?" he whispered in my ear. "What?" I almost screamed. "You've been staring at him the whole time we were talking" he pointed out. Fuck, that's gonna be so embarrassing for me. "You know, he is single and your age. Do you want me to ask him for you?" he wiggled his eyebrows at me. "No no, I just got lost in thought." God, this is going to be tough. "Zia, look he's coming here. Act natural." Before I could comprehend what he meant, I was being greeted by Lewis for the third time today. Can this day end already? "You still find races boring?" he whispered in my ear. I pushed him away, Kimi was staring. "Yes, I hate races" I stated boldly. "Maybe I can change your mind." he teased. "No, thank you. If you will excuse me. Bambino" I tapped Kimi's shoulder, "I'm gonna go get something to eat. Would you like anything?" He said he didn't want anything so I left to get some food.

The day ended with me thankfully no longer running into Lewis anymore. But I did enjoy watching Kimi during free practise. He finished P8 and I consoled him by saying that they were just figuring stuff out and how everything worked. He seemed to cheer up and we ended up having dinner at a restaurant near by. The city was lit up with the hustle and bustle of the race. I saw a couple more racers and people asking for their autograph. I teased Kimi about forgetting me when he's a formula one driver and being too rich and famous for me. He looked appalled at the suggestion. The night came to a close with us back in our rooms and back in bed but sleep wasn't going to come to me this easy.

Flashback

Lewis was finally back from the races. Following him around was proving itself to be quite challenging while being a full time uni student. I decided to make the most of the little time we had together by dragging him around to an arcade, to the mall and lastly my couch so that we could watch Finding Nemo. Lewis was willing to entertain all my childish demands, I realised. We were cuddled up together, our legs intertwined, one of Lewis's hand was under my head and the other rubbing my hand. "You're distracting me, Amore" I muttered. "Pay attention to me them" he pouted. I turned my head around and pecked his lips, slowly turning my body around to face him. I cupped his cheeks; "I missed you" I mumbled against his lips, kissing him again. He pulled me closer by my waist, deepening the kiss. "I missed you too" he whispered against my neck as he left open mouth kisses down to my chest. His hand squeezed my ass, while his lips started suck on one spot. He pushed me against the sofa and took his shirt off in one swift motion.

Present Time

Okay, I need to stop thinking about Lewis, especially naked Lewis. This isn't helping my situation at all. Why am I acting like a teenager? This was starting to get humiliating for me.

After a troubled sleep, morning seem to come very late. I was pulled out of bed by Kimi who was very annoyed that I was still in bed. I quickly got dressed and met Kimi back at the paddock. I spent the whole day following Marco around like a lost puppy. I didn't even see Lewis the whole day. I guess the schedules don't match for F1 and F2. Part of me hoped to see him. I found myself searching the paddock for him. At the end of day I returned back to the hotel heartbroken.

Sunday was my last day in Monaco, Kimi did okay at the sprint. I congratulated him none the less. We decided to go out for dinner and it would be my treat. "I just wanted to do well, for you" Kimi sulked. "You did well, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you. You've come so far, mio dolce bambino" I said giving him a hug and pat on his back. I told him to rest and then we'll head out for dinner. I was looking for Marco to confirm the plan with him, when I saw Lewis, who looked visibly annoyed. "Hey" I waved at him. I saw him visibly relax and wave back at me. I found myself walking towards him, "Everything okay?" I asked. "Yeah, it's nothing. Just team issues" he huffed. "Sorry about that. I hope you can resolve it" I reassured. "Is this why you're moving to Ferrari, next year?" I questioned. "You know" he looked shocked. I laughed, "Kind of hard to miss, when Toto is actively pursuing my god-son." I chucked. "One of the reasons" he added. "Well, I hope you find success" I smiled at him. "Can I hug you?" he asked hopefully. I nodded and opened my arms for him, he found himself wrapping his arms around my waist. The sensation was so familiar, it didn't feel like we were hugging after 18 years. I started rubbing his back, whispering reassurances.

"How long are you here for?" he asked while pulling away from the hug. "I'll leave tomorrow morning." I replied. "You live in Italy?" he queried. I nodded. "Stay, for a few more days. I just, I've missed you" he announced. I bit my lip, "Do you remember why we broke up?" Lewis seemed to think for a moment.

Flashback

"Il moroso" I croaked, my voice hoarse from the screaming match we were having. "No, Y/N I don't get it. Why is it so hard for you to be there for me? It's the least I can ask for?" Lewis yelled. We had been going back and forth, I was in my third year of university and going to all his races while trying to pass the semester and doing an internship was proving to be difficult. It had put a strain on our relationship. He was only in the junior championships and required travelling a lot, I couldn't imagine how much he would be travelling once he was a formula one driver. I hadn't been to a race in a couple months and it was not something I was able to do as often as Lewis wished with the time and financial constraint. In all of this Lewis had seemed to forget that I had a life of my own that I was trying to build while in a foreign country trying to pursue my bachelors.

"Love, you know I can't make it to all the races" I reasoned. "Well, the others can. Some how you're the only one who is so fucking busy" he emphasised. I let out a sigh trying to calm myself down. "I really wanna be there for you Lew, but it's just not possible right now. I landed the best interning job for my degree. It'll help me with my future" I justified. "Your job is more important than me" he probed. I could feel the tears ready to fall, "No, it's not. But you're acting like yours is" I explained. He let out a strained laugh, "Just say it, you don't care about me" "You're putting words in my mouth" I argued. "There are no words to be put, when that's how you feel" he taunted. I ran a hand through my hair, almost pulling at my scalp; "Damn it, Lewis, I fucking love you and I want to be there for you. But you are behaving like a child" I called out. "If I am such a child, then break up with me" he snarled. We had fought before but never like this. We never even joked about breaking up. "I just want to support you and watch you succeed. But that doesn't mean I'll get to do that beside you at all time, I have a life of my own too, you know" I tried to reason with him. "I will succeed, whether I have you around or not. I can't be with someone who can't prioritise me" he said. I faked a laugh, "Ha, says the guy who can't see past his stupid cars, you know what Lewis, I hope you succeed, I truly do. But I also hope you miss me and yearn for the woman that supported you through so much every time you succeed." I declared. "Now, leave my fucking house. We're through" I shouted while pushing him out before my tears started to fall.

I spent the next few days crying, moping around, eating a shit ton of ice cream and having Marco console me. That man really heard me pine and crib for months. The only time I was truly happy during those sad months was Andrea's birth and being asked to be his god-mother. I took those duties very seriously. That kid helped me move on from my first adult relationship and heart break.

Present Day

I've dated multiple men after Lewis, but no one stuck. I never even settled down because deep down my heart was still stuck on him. I kept up with Lewis's life until I graduated and slowly lost the time to keep up with formula one. When I heard he had won his first world championship, I was in London, working at my 9-5 when my colleague ran to me to announce that a Brit was the latest world champion. I saw his face plastered on the news and felt some sort of relief, watching him succeed like he said he would. I had almost forgotten about it all, until Kimi joined the Mercedes drivers academy. I had kept my space from all his races after he transitioned to single seat racing.

"You know what you said, the day we broke up, came true" he uttered. I gazed inquisitively. "About me succeeding, but missing you" he stated. I looked at him in disbelief for a moment, before the words came back to me, I placed a hand on my chest in shock, "I didn't mean" I said before I was cut off by "I know you didn't. But I did miss you a lot whenever I won a race or for that matter my championships." he smiled at me, reminiscing all those moments. I smiled at him sadly. "I'm sorry for ruining your wins" I mumbled. "You didn't ruin them. But" he said with a glimmer in his eyes, "there's a way you can make it up to me" I peered at him with uncertainty. "Go on a date with me" he said. "Lewis" I responded. "Y/N" he replied. "You remember why we broke up, I still have a job that I love and my life has really worked out in my favour" I commented. "So do I. However, you can not" he stressed, "cannot hold what I said at 21 against me." he announced. I ruminated on that thought for a moment, "Ok, but this is your last chance." "Love, do you take me for a fool? I would never let this opportunity go. I'll never repeat the mistakes of my past, I promise" he said while holding both my hands in his. I leaned in and pecked his cheek. "I'll stay back in Monaco for a couple more days. This is your chance to convince me why I should date you?" I stated. "You'll know that you want me in a couple of hours." he grinned. "Don't get too cocky Mr Hamilton" I smirked. He just leaned in with his breath fanning my skin, "Can I kiss you, darling?" he requested. "You gotta earn it, Hamilton" I teased. "I've waited for so long for this" he mumbled. "Then you can wait a little longer" I giggled. I felt a pair of hands against my waist. "I could've if you weren't this close" he said with our lips almost touching, he intently eyed them. "Maybe one won't hurt" I thought loudly, my resolve breaking. "Thought so" he chuckled, while leaning in to kiss me.

I might do a part 2, but like if you guys want one. I know where I want to go with this, if i write another part. If you like this lemme know, it'll encourage me to write the next part then thank you for reading!! Hope you liked it!!

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 29 days

Text

Sharing – Twin Rafe Fic (Part 2 of 2)

+18 Minor DNI

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

Part 1

CurtainBangs!Rafe x BuzzCut!Rafe x GF!Reader

🪄 Warning: SMUT, language, drug usage, drinking, name calling, choking, pet names, sharing kink, ownership kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, choking, cuckolding, rough sex, anal sex, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, threesome, degradation, hair pulling, pussy slapping, female oral stim from the back, the twins talk about the reader in an explicit manner without her.

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you.

✨ “We made a little bet, baby girl. Who could get you off the quickest,” Rafe groans. His other hand cracks against your ass, making you release a whiny gasp. “You think I’m gonna win? How well do you think I know this pussy, princess?” ✨

6k <- smutty smut smut smuttin’

⭐ this is one of my favorite thing I've ever written on this app. I hope you like it ⭐

Rafe’s POV:

“Too bad you’re not coming in two weeks,” I drone as I relax on the couch, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. I run my fingers through my hair, turning my hat backward as I shift my attention to the bathroom, watching Y/n’s shadow moves underneath it. Baby girl…

“What’s goin’ on then?” Cam asks, mindlessly flipping through the TV; pulling up Netflix.

“MacLaren’s comin’ to town for a soccer game.”

“No shit,” Cam grins. “Aunt Connie and Uncle Matt comin’ too?”

“I don’t know. Probably,” I shrug.

“He bringin’ Zoey?”

“Hope not,” I sough. “Girl’s a dud.”

Cam snickers as he lifts his White Claw to his lips, draining the can. “She’s no, Y/n. That’s for sure. You sure this is okay, buddy?” Cam asks as he reaches behind his ear, fishing out a joint.

“Dude…” I scoff, narrowing my eyes on his as he blazes up. “Season ain’t over for me.”

“That’s a shame, brother,” Cam chuckles cruelly before popping it between his lips. “This is good shit. Remember, you ended my season, dickhead. I deserve this shit,” he gripes, his voice already gravelly from the weed. He relaxes his head on the back of the couch, blowing a thick cloud of smoke to the ceiling. “Your girl is stunning. Fuck. She’s somethin’ special,” Cam rolls his head to the side, matching my eyes.

“What did I tell ya?” I gloat as I extend my fingers, reaching for the joint. “Just one hit.”

“Rafey… I dunno,” he mocks, eyeing it as he rolls it between his fingers. “The season ain’t over.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I clip before snatching it from his hands, ripping the joint between my lips. The sticky smoke swirls in my lungs, quenching a fraction of my thirst. “Fuck,” I groan through my exhale, passing it back to his reluctantly. “Take this shit before I smoke it all.”

“Ya didn’t answer my question, dumbfuck,” Cam mumbles, joint dangling from his lips. “You sure you’re okay with this?” I look toward the closed bathroom door, listening for y/n. Her little heels click across the tile, causing my excitement to build even more.

Goddamn. I love watchin’ my girls get fucked. She’s it. She’s that forever type of love. This high is gonna hit different. ‘Course I share. It’s like watchin’ porn, but I’m the star. I’m cuckolding myself… I don’t look at Cam. I’m not a perv like that. But, watching the woman I love get railed by a man who looks like me is a fuckin’ trip. And two of me versus one of them, holy shit, that’s ecstasy.

I’m not jealous of Cam. It also helps that I’m bigger than him. Longer… I got that curve that she loves. The one that makes my neighbors leave nasty little notes on my door after a great night. She never came from a cock before she had me. Always fakin’ it.

Sure, my brother’s thicker, but my stroke game’s better. It always has been. I like to see him try to outdo me. Hasn’t happened yet.

“Please say ‘yes,’ Rafe. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Cam snaps me out of my daze, blowing a stream of weed smoke in my face. “Also, can you pull your head out of your ass? This is important shit.”

“Of course, it’s okay, bitch. This isn’t our first rodeo. Twenty bucks says I can make her cum faster,” I taunt as I cock my eyebrow, making him do the same.

“We countin’ the club… What was that, couple minutes tops? The shit was quick.”

“Nah. I helped. That ain’t fair,” I mock. “I’ll even let you go first. You might stand a chance.”

“You’re a cocky little fuck,” Cam sighs weakly, rubbing his hands over his tight buzz cut. “Rules? She’s your girl. What am I workin’ with?”

“Anythin’ you want. I get her ass. I get her last.”

“Fair. Rather rude that you won’t let me take her in the ass, man… I am a guest in your home.”

“That makes no fuckin’ sense,” I chuckle, crossing my arms across my chest; giving him a side-eye.

“Yeah? That’s ‘cause you have no manners, Country Club,” Cam taunts.

“Yeah, Yacht Club? ‘N you do? Oh, by the way, I like your buzz cut, Cami. You finally look like a real man.”

“I like your curtain bangs, Rafey. You look like a fuckin’, princess.”

Bitch. I move fast, punching him roughly in the arm, making him wince. “Good choice,” I bully as I wiggle my eyebrows.

“Yeah. Yeah. ‘You’re the only one standin’ in between me and your girl’s pussy. Yadda. Yadda’.” He mocks my voice, knowing what I was aiming to say. And he’s right. I could end this shit any time I wanted. Y/n is mine.

I sit in my chair, eyes trail up Y/n’s body. Ugh… Those legs, those thighs– my eyes double, mouth falling open as she drops her little robe for Cam. A bright pink garter belt hugs her skin. Fuck me. I follow the strap higher, my eyes following the curve of her ass. Ugh… I feel helpless. I wanna peel that ruffly little thong right off her body; unfasten the hooks of her pink bra one by one. Her skin is just begging to be touched, her lips kissed, body fucked senseless.

Cam’s moving slower than expected. Taking his time where he’d typically rush. His hands trail her body, skimming her curves, taking it all into memory.

Shit. I’d take her right there. Push her to her knees… Shove my cock down her throat. She gives the best fuckin’ blowjobs, not afraid to get messy for me. Daddy’s perfect little slut. But damn, does she look good bent over my dresser. Her knee thrown up on the top. My hands holding her hips as I watch her take all of me from the back, catching her beautiful face in the reflection of the mirror. But there’s always the bed. I’d spread her out and dick her down, devour her, anything and everything she ever wanted. ‘Rafe’. I can hear her moans and picture her climax perfectly. That face is forever etched into my mind.

“Fuck baby,” Cam chuckles lustfully. Pulling me out of my daze. He takes a haul off his joint, pressing his lips against her mouth, sharing his smoke. Her hands rest on his chest, just like she does to mine. My ring shines on her finger, just a casual reminder that she’s mine. Cam ashes out the joint on my bedframe before returning his attention to Y/n. He cups her lace-clad tits in his large hands. I lift my whiskey to my lips, taking a sip. Cam’s hands work down Y/n’s back, landing on her ass. He works his hands slowly over her soft skin, giving her a little spank making Y/n moan in response.

“Fuck me,” I huff, adjusting myself in my seat. Cam pushes her to sit. Y/n looks up at him hungrily. She spreads her legs wide as Cam moves to his knees. Reaching up, Cam takes hold of the straps of Y/n’s bra, pulling each side down making her breasts bounce out.

He releases a hungry moan at the sight of her, making her blush and smile. Cam’s mouth meets Y/n skin, sucking on her nipple while his hand works on the other side, pinching and rolling her blushed skin between his fingers. Y/n throws her head back, moaning loudly, pleasure coursing straight to my cock. “Holy fuck, baby,” I groan as I hold back the temptation to join… Just gotta give ‘em a minute. Cam slides her panties to the side, lowering his mouth to her pussy. I flick my wrist, fixing my watch, catching the time.

“Fuck, Cam,” y/n whines as his tongue meets her heat. There it is… Shit. I down the rest of my drink. God, it’s like snortin’ a line. That high of hearing a woman moan like that’s too fuckin good. Cam licks a line up to her clit, his hand working higher on her legs, disappearing between my girl’s thighs.

I can hear Cam’s fingers darting quickly, driving in and out rapidly. Y/n grips the back of his buzzed head, forcing him closer. He slows his pace, making her lift her head off the pillow. She looks down at him desperately, still too unfamiliar to plead with him to speed up. I know what my girl likes. She would have already been grippin’ the sheets. Callin’ out for me. Rookie mistake.

I rise from my chair, walking toward her slowly as Cam continues to play. Y/n looks at me; lashes fluttering as he changes his approach, curling his thick fingers in her pussy. I mount the bed, moving toward her slowly. Y/n reaches for me before I can even get at her, pulling me to her lips. Her sweet tongue rolls with mine, plush lips brushing as I catch her soft moans. “Tell him what you want, princess. C’mon,” I mumble against her lips.

“Faster,” she whimpers against my lips.

“Louder.”

“Faster,” Y/n moans loudly, the sounds of her pleasure making me feel like I could bust right then and there.

“Atta girl.” Cam works her pussy quicker, the wet squelching of her cunt fills the room as her back starts to arch off the bed. “Mmm… Like that?”

“Just like that,” she cries.

“You gonna cum, baby?” I ask.

“Mmpf… Y-Yeah. I’m gonna cum.” Her voice cracks, already hoarse from her cries. “Fuck, Cam.” She bucks her hips, but my brother doesn’t let up, holding her in place, working her through her orgasm as Y/n moans and cries.

Cam licks another line up her pussy, swirling his tongue, kissing her clit. He looks up at me, chin glistening with my girl’s slick, a smug smile tugs on his lips. I give him a smirk, tapping on my watch face, completely unimpressed, making him suck his teeth and roll his eyes. His demeanor changes as he crawls toward Y/n, softening completely as he looks into her half-lidded eyes.

She’s so fucking beautiful…

Reader’s POV:

“Come’ere,” Rafe groans, reaching out for you. His eyes roam your curves as you walk his way. “How ya doin’, princess?” He smiles as he wraps his strong arm around your waist. “This okay? You’re not just doin’ it for me. Are ya?” You shake your head. ‘No,’ Rafe responds with a sinful smile. “Take off my shirt, baby.” You pinch the bottom of his white v-neck, drawing it off his muscular body before tossing it to the floor. You wrap yourself up in his arms, taking in the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

Rafe’s lips meet your neck, kissing you roughly, marking you with his lips. He kisses his way to your ear, swirling and tugging on your lobe, breathing soft and slow, making you throb below. ”How are you so sexy?“ Rafe hums, making you moan needily for more. Rafe’s fingers drift into your hair, pulling you even closer. You reach down, stroking your hand over his clothed cock. ”You ready, baby?“ You bite your lip and nod, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. “My girl,” he chuckles lustfully; his praise making your heart pound. “You gonna be a good girl for us?” He hums as he latches onto your skin again, sucking down on your pulse point, feeling your racing heart.

“Yes, daddy,” you moan.

“Good answer… Take care of my brother. Yeah?”

“Yeah-” Before you can even say anymore, you’re whisked away by Cam, his lips colliding with yours in a passionate kiss. You slip the tips of your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, excitement building as you think back to the bar, remembering how it felt as you danced together.

Drawing back slightly, your eyes follow the indentations of his chiseled v-lines to his thick cock. Cam gives you a gentle smile, sensing your nerves. “We’ll go slow. Alright?” His fingers hook under your chin, his thumb rubbing along your jaw. You give him a little nod, returning your focus as you drag the material the rest of the way to the floor. He’s big. Almost as long as Rafe, no curve, thick and veiny: his pink swollen head, leaking at the tip. You grip him in your hand, swirling your tongue around his cock, collecting his prerelease.

“Shit,” you hear Rafe groan, looking back in his direction. He’s relaxed on the chair again, thighs spread wide; nothing left on his body but a smirk. It’s almost impossible to tear your focus away from Rafe as you take him in. He lifts his hand to his rosy lips, spitting on his palm, guiding your attention even lower. Your guide falls from his muscular chest to his tight stomach, his long, heavy cock now resting in his fist. Rafe uses his spit as lube, stroking slowly. His eyes roll back as you echo his movements on Cam. Rafe’s brother moans, tossing his head back to the ceiling. You stand up, continuing to palm his cock.

“I’ll do whatever you want, daddy,” you breathe, watching as a smile spreads on Cam’s lips. He steals the words off your tongue, taking your breath away. Cam reaches for you, drawing you even closer.

”Fuck. Call me daddy again,“ he mumbles between kisses as he peels your thong off your hips.

”Daddy,“ you whisper, scratching your fingers through his hair. Cam moans for you, taking a tighter grip on the plush of your hips.

“Mmm… And you’ll do whatever daddy wants?”

“Anything daddy wants, daddy get…”

”Suck my cock, baby girl.“ Cam wraps his hands around the back of your neck, forehead resting against yours. “Just for a bit… Then, I’m gonna fuck that pretty pussy. Shit. I bet you’re so tight, so fucking wet…” Cam guides two fingers between your thighs, gathering your essence on his fingers; cock twitching as he gets his answer. He brings his lips to his fingers, sucking them clean. ”Fuck. You’re sweet.“

Cam presses you toward the bed, knees buckling when you hit the side of the mattress, falling to your back. You crawl to the headboard as Cam continues to kiss you hungrily, tongue rolling with yours. He wraps his arms tightly around your body, moving you onto his chest.

You lean down, kissing his flushed cheeks. Moving a little lower on the bed, your lips meet his neck, hands gripping his muscular chest. You shift between his thighs, dragging your nails down his body, tracing your fingers around his cock as Rafe watches on with a smirk. Cam runs his tongue along his bottom lip as yours glides along the underside of his length, swirling around the tip, making him release a deep moan, throwing his head onto the pillow.

Cam’s large hands quickly find the back of your head, gathering your hair in a makeshift pony so he can get a better look. You wrap your lips around his thick tip, sucking gently, making his brows furrow, eyes shutting softly. Sinking low, you take as much of him as you can, spit seeping out of the corners of your lips already at his sheer girth.

”Fuckkk…“ He draws out the word, thigh muscles tightening under your hands as you deep throat his cock, choking on his shaft again and again. ”Mmm… Fuck. Rafe’s got you trained, baby. Shit,” he mutters. “Keep doin’ that.” You feel another touch. Rafe… His fingers glide through your hair at the nape as he leans in, lips brushing your ear as you continue to suck.

“We made a little bet, baby girl. Who could get you off the quickest,” Rafe groans. His other hand cracks against your ass, making you release a whiny gasp. “You think I’m gonna win? How well do you think I know this pussy, princess?” His large palms circle the fullness of your ass. “Shit…” He groans, drawing out the word as his hand meets your pussy. His arm reaches further around your hip, fingers skimming your ass, reaching as far as he can, the tips of his fingers swirling your arousal dipping into your entrance outlined.

Rafe reaches down, pushing you where he wants you. He thrusts his hips, rolling his body against yours, his rock-hard cock nestled between your thighs. You can feel the chill of the slick between your legs, making you release an eager whimper. “Need you, Rafe,” you whine, gasping as you come up for air. Cam grabs a mess of your hair, pushing you back down on his cock as Rafe tortures you with a few more hindered thrusts.

“Gonna get you good ‘n ready for my cock, baby girl,” Rafe groans as he takes hold of your curves, spreading your ass cheeks slightly. Rafe draws his hand back, slapping your bum; a satisfying clap cracks through the room. He snares your hips, towing you closer. You relax your body a little more, the sway of your spine deepening. Rafe’s rough fingers meet your clit, making you release a throaty moan onto Cam’s cock. “Such a pretty pussy,” Rafe groans as he works a little further back, toying with your entrance, running his fingers through your sticky folds before slapping your cunt. “Always so wet for me.”

“All from suckin’ my cock,” Cam grunts. You can hear the wavering in Cam’s voice as his thighs start to tremble.

Rafe starts to play with your pussy as Cam watches you put in work on his cock. “You’re gonna swallow my cum,” Cam moans the words, relishing each one. “You gonna let me stretch out your pussy? Fill you up? Hmm?” You answer with a gag, humming and hallowing your cheeks, creating a suction that makes Cam grip your hair tighter. “Gonna cum… Shit. So good at sucking cock. I’m gonna – Fuck-” His cum spurts down your throat as he moans your name, hips jostling, shuddering in overstimulation as you continue to suck. ”Goddamn, Y/n,“ Cam laughs through his panting breaths as you suck off his throbbing dick, cleaning on your lips with your finger before sucking it clean. “Fuck… I’m obsessed with you. You’re so perfect, baby,” he mumbles as he lowers himself on the mattress, one with your lips. ”I always wanted a girl like you, Y/n,“ he whispers. ”So fucking beautiful. Every part of you. Too bad my brother gotcha first.”

“That’s right,” Rafe rasps. His rough palm glides down your body, pressing down on your hip, causing you to widen your thighs. “You’re gonna be okay. A’ight, princess? I’ll go nice and slow.”

“Our girls gonna love it,” Cam mumbles against your lips. His tongue slips through your parted lips as Rafe rubs his thumb over your taut hole using your slick as lube, adding a little more, running a line of spit down, making you release a little gasp. Rafe circles a little quicker before pressing it inside, making you clutch Cam’s biceps.

“Good?” Rafe hums.

“So fucking good,” you moan. Rafe draws his finger out, pulling out a moan from your trembling lips. He presses against you again, his pointer finger replacing his thumb.

“Want me to keep goin’?”

“Yes. Fuck, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you whimper. You watch as Rafe wraps his fist around his dick as well. Your entire body starts to throb, your heart banging in your chest as he pumps his long cock at the same tempo as his finger, working in and out of you. A bead of precum drips from his swollen tip onto the comforter below. You feel heat spread across your already hot skin as he answers your question. His fat cockhead presses against your entrance, making your fingers claw into Cam’s flesh, eyes squeezed as Rafe glides his dick in your pussy. “O-Oh, Rafe. I- Mmm...” Cam grabs your cheeks, drawing you to his lips as Rafe sinks balls deep, the skin of his body pressed against yours, making you cry out. Rafe lets you adjust to his size and the new sensation before rocking into you at a familiar tempo, working his fingers in tandem with his thrusts. “Oh my god,” you gasp in ecstasy as he adds another finger, filling you fuller than before.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs. Rafe curls his digits inside your ass, pumping both a little quicker, making you tighten around him more. “Feels so good, Y/n… Shit,” he pants between ruts.

“So good,” you cry. Rafe palms the arch of your ass with his other hand, spanking your cheek before gliding it forward, forcing your body a little lower. He feeds off your whines and moans, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge.

“Right there,” you cry between kisses.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Faster,” you snivel.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

”Harder,“ you plead through quivering lips. His hand takes a grip on your ass; rough thrusts with his fingers and cock making your body weak. ”Gonna cum.“

”Mmm… Squeezin’ me so tight. S-Shit,“ he stammers. You scream out his name, pussy fluttering around his length as you cum harder than you ever have before. Your toes curl tight, head falling onto the crook of Cam’s neck as you flood Rafe’s cock with your release. Your lashes beat to a close, muscles settling around him as his fingers pull out of your ass. ”Mmm…“ Rafe growls from behind you as his hand rounds your hips. He grinds his cock slowly, just rough enough to make the plush of your ass recoil.

”Felt so good, Rafey,“ you mewl in exhaustion, feeling his hand sail up the bend of your spine, raking into your hair. You gasp as Rafe yanks you off Cam’s chest, pulling you to his.

“Looks like I’m a winner, bitch,” Rafe claps back to Cam.

“No fuckin’ way,” Cam sneers.

“Hey, don’t be a sore loser. I know this pussy like the back of my hand. A’int that right, princess?”

“Yes, daddy,” you pant breathlessly.

“Think you can handle my cock, champ? You’re lookin’ pretty tired… Bet two’s outta the question. Huh?” He teases.

“Fuck that,” Cam chuckles. You release another gasp as Cam’s thumb finds your clit rubbing slow circles on top. “I’m gettin’ this pussy one way or the other.”

“Please, daddy… I want you both so bad,” you plead. Rafe smiles, using his grip on your hair to turn your head, planting a rough kiss on your lips.

“Anything for you, Y/n. Now sit on his cock, baby.”

Cam clasps your hips, hovering you over his dick. You reach between your thighs, taking him in your grasp, swirling him through your sopping folds. The tip of his cock presses against your pussy, making your whole body tremble. Your fingers clunch into your thighs as you sink on the first few inches, pausing to adjust to his size.

“You’re so f-fucking – mmm… You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Shit,” Cam babbles. Cam pitches his hips, filling you to the brim, causing you to squeal and fall back onto Rafe. “Mmm… Couldn’t help myself, baby. Sorry,” he groans as his large hands hold your waist, not letting you move away.

“S-So big,” you whimper.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Rafe whispers against your hot skin. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you too, or is it too much?”

“Fuck me.”

Your body shakes in anticipation as he presses his tip against your second hole. “You ready, Y/n?” He hums.

“Yes,” you moan as you drop down slightly on Cam’s cock, inhaling sharply as his head enters you. Cam’s eyes plead with you to keep going, the desperation on his face encouraging you to take him deeper. “Shit. Holy shit!” You whine as you feel Rafe coax himself in as well. There’s a sting of pain, a slight discomfort as you work yourself even lower on Cam. You feel yourself becoming more and more full. Pressure building in your stomach; cries of pleasure free falling from your lips.

“Princess?” Rafe’s voice brings your gaze back to him. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks gently, moving closer than before.

“Yeah… But, fuck. J-Just. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Rafe laughs and shakes his head. “You like that, Y/n? Shit… Our girl’s a little slut for pain, buddy?” He mumbles, lips brushing your shoulder. Your mouth drops open, eyes fluttering shut immediately as you feel both of them bottom you out.

“Gonna move now...” Cam hums. His teeth bite down on his kiss-bitten lip as he begins to thrust up into you. His fingertips dig into your skin as Rafe starts thrusting as well.

“Just a little whore for Cameron cock,” Rafe hisses, making Cam let out a breathless laugh.

”Fucking hell...“ You moan as they both begin to move in tandem, your whines and cries causing them to speed up. Cam fucks you from below as Rafe drives into you from above, both dying to bring you to your climax. Tears fill your eyes as they slam into you again and again.

”You’re taking us so well, baby. So fuckin’ well,“ Rafe praises. You try to speak, but you can’t focus on anything; every part of you numb with pleasure.

”Mmm. She loves us filling her up. She is so dumb on cock she can’t speak. Our poor little baby,” Cam rasps.

“Harder…” You pant breathlessly.

“Oh yeah, baby?” Rafe grunts, pistoning his hips, skin cracking against your ass as Cam drives his heels into the mattress fucking you from below.

“H-Harder!” You wail, nails clawing into the fronts of Rafe’s thighs, making him moan.

“Fuck, Y/n,” Rafe grunts. The two of them moan and groan and pleasure. Your vision blurs as Rafe’s hand clamps down around your throat, making your eyes cross. You hit your crescendo, reaching your highest high as you cry out for the both of them, back to back, one after the other, over and over. You feel Rafe’s body tremble, the warmth of his release filling you as Cam’s fingers brush along your clit.

“Keep doing that,” you whimper.

“Mmm… This?” Cam groans, working his digits a little faster, eyes locked on your pussy, watching as you make a wet mess on his lap. You fall into Cam’s arms, grinding slowly. The two of you move together, thighs sticky with your release. You start to lose your tempo in exhaustion. Rafe catches your hips guiding you as you roll on Cam’s cock, slamming you deep. “Shit… I’m almost there, baby,” Cam breathes. His fingers drift through your hair, tugging hard. “You’re my girl. Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you?” He pleads, lips brushing against yours.

“Mmm… I’m your girl. Need it. Please.” Cam’s eyes slam shut, mouth falling open as he pins you in place, flooding you with his cum.

“Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit,” he cries. Rafe comes down on top of you, covering your body with his, lips connecting, kissing your neck and your shoulders anywhere and everywhere he can reach.

“I love you,“ he whispers. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much.”

”I love you, Rafey.”

Late that night…

You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes rolling back, toes curling tight as you try to contain the pleasure building inside. A muffled moan slips your lips, causing you to cut off the noise with the palm of your hand as you use the other to grip Rafe’s dirty blonde hair. The bed shifts beside you as Cam sleeps soundly.

Rafe’s finger swirls around your entrance, the buzz of a hum grazing against your clit. You lift the covers as Rafe’s eyes flick to yours, his beautiful face buried between your thighs. His fingers curl, finding your sweet spot, making your mouth fall slack as you let out a choked cry.

A part of you wants to moan a little louder. The greedy girl in you wanting to wake up Cam as well, but you can tell that’s not what Rafe wants. Rafe wants you all to himself. He slows his pace, adding a third finger instead, making your thighs widen, back arching off the bed. You feel a familiar heat building in your core, warmth spreading across your body.

“Fuck, baby. Lemme see your ass,” Rafe groans, nipping at the plush of your inner thigh. He grabs your hips, flipping you on the mattress before lifting your hips in the air. You arch your back a little further, giving him access to your pussy as kisses your ass and thighs.

Rafe starts to eat you out from the back, drowning himself in your wet cunt as you claw the sheets. His tongue plunges into your entrance, causing you to bury your face in your pillow, quieting yourself.

The coil in your stomach starts to tighten along with your pussy around Rafe. His trained fingers rub figure eights on your clit, tongue sweeping your G-spot again and again.

“S-Shit,” you hiss the word out as he pinches your clit, tongue fucking you ruthlessly. You move away in overstimulation, but Rafe pulls you back, keeping you in place. His tongue swirls around your entrance, collecting your arousal, moaning into your cunt; fingers delighting your clit. Your bottom lip quivers as Rafe licks a fat stripe up your pussy. You cry into the pillow, fingers twisting in the fabric, using the textile to dampen your sounds.

“Rafe,” you pant breathily as your orgasm casts through your body. Your muscles clench tight; teeth gritted as you ride the waves of your bliss, pussy, fluttering around his fingers. Your ears ring; everything in the room falls out of earshot. He rolls you to your back, claiming your lips.

“I get you last… I always get you last,” Rafe whispers breathlessly against your kiss.

“Always.”

Rafe clears his throat, his face a mess of emotion as his eyes stare into yours. His rough finger brushes along your cheeks as he struggles to find the words, but they’re hard. “Princess…”

“Baby…”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” he presses out the words.

“Like what, Rafe?” You ask gently as you lean in, kissing his lips, feeling him melt at your touch. He nuzzled in a little closer, pushing his naked body against yours.

“I’m a little jealous,” he whispers weakly.

“Rafe-”

“Wait,” he stops you before you can scold him, shaking his head ‘no.’ “I’m the one that wanted this to happen. And I loved it… Watchin’ you like that, baby… It was a fuckin’ fantasy. A’ight? But, Cam, that fucker was enjoyin’ it a little too much for my liking,” he sneers as he glances over your shoulder at his brother. “I’ve just never felt like this about anyone; loved anyone like I love you, princess.”

“I love you, Rafe,” you answer earnestly, pleading with him to believe you even after tonight. It’s hard to deny the chemistry. You couldn’t lie to Rafe and say that he was wrong about Cam.

“I know, baby. I know you love me,” he mumbles as he rests his forehead against yours.

“We don’t have to do that ever again,” you soothe even though it pained you to say. “I won’t talk to Cam. I-”

“Baby girl,” he whispers. “Not necessary. A’ight? And it is happening again. I just want to make sure you really know who you belong to.” Your heart patters as he confirms what you were hoping he would. He wants this to happen again. The three of you together wasn’t just a one-time thing. You do your best to fix your face, not wanting to act too excited… I mean, he could call it off ultimately.

“I belong to you, Rafe Cameron,” you assure as you lift your leg, wrapping it over his body. Rafe takes hold of your ass, palming your curves as he looks down at you lovingly. “I already talked to Cam. Told him that I didn’t want him talkin’ to you without me.”

“Oh… What did he say?” You whisper.

“He said, ‘We’re cool. He understands. He knows you’re mine and that he never questioned it. Just told me I don’t have anything to worry about. I know that. Got nothin’ to worry about when it comes to you, honey-”

“You don’t, Rafey. M’all yours.”

“And I’m yours, princess.”

One week later…

“Fuck. I’m gonna miss you,” Rafe hums against your lips, arms wrapped lazily around your hips. He paws at your ass, lifting the bottom of his old t-shirt, hands resting on your bare skin.

“You’re gonna do so good, baby.” You rise on your tippy toes, meeting Rafe’s lips. “Can’t wait to watch you play.”

“Mmm… I’ll call you right after. And, if we make it to Nationals, you’re coming with me. A’ight? M’Nothing without my lucky charm.”

“I’m your lucky charm?” You smile, your cheeks burning from your smile as Rafe lifts you to his level, standing straight.

“‘Course you are. I’m gonna be missing my pregame ritual, my post-game ritual… What am I gonna do without you,” he mumbles, face buried in your neck.

“Rafey,” you chuckle lightly, drawing his beautiful blues to yours before brushing his dirty blonde bangs back. “Call me when you get back to the hotel, and we can FaceTime: take a shower together-”

“Yeah?” He chuckles giddily as he smushes his lips against yours.

“Mhmm… Then, we can pick a movie and not watch it like we usually do.

“Shittt, baby,” he groans as he tosses his head back slightly. “I love the sound of that.” Rafe turns over his shoulder, looking toward the door as one of his teammates blares his car horn. He lets out a little annoyed grumble, returning his attention to you. “Wish me luck?”

“Mmm…” You kiss him against, lips lingering with his. “Good luck, baby.”

“My girl… This bus ride is long as shit. Phone on. A’ight? I’m gonna be bored as fuck,” he bitches as he tugs on his team jacket before looping his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Promise,” you smile, holding the door as he passes through. Rafe steals three more kisses before bounding toward the Wrangler. You stand at the doorframe, watching as he hops in the passenger’s seat. Your phone buzzes in your pocket already, making you smile.

Your cheeks blush as you look at the little thumbnail on your screen, Rafe’s ring-adorned hand wrapped tightly around your neck. You look up toward the car, watching as it pulls out of the driveway. Rafe gives you a smile and a wink before peeling out onto the main road.

The notification at the top of your phone catches your attention, making your heart stop.

Fuck.

tags ⭐ @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @sleepiibunniiii @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe #obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader smut #rafe x Reader #rafe cameron one shot #rafe fanfiction

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hidtired · 5 months

Text

Unfortunate Timing [Part 1]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #angst #fluff #smut

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