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scribblemesylus · 3 months ago

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What they need to hear from you

The one where you comfort him : Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne, Sylus, Xavier

Hello! This is my first official writing of the LaDS characters; I hope you enjoy it! comments and reposts and love are most appreciated! 💕 The reader is the MC in this one! Angsty (but happy endings) No other warnings.Thank you to my friend who helped me find some inspiration for this post <3

Caleb

Caleb always tried to be the Caleb you remembered, even if he could not remember it that well, he searched through the little memory he had left to piece himself together. Because it was for you. He saw your face that day, the day you told him you didn't need him. That look in your eye, he didn't know exactly what it was; disgust? Pity? Terror? He couldn't recognise it. So, instead of acting like it never happened, he tried to make himself better, just so you would never leave his side again... you liked him before, right? So, it shouldn't be too hard... right?

Turns out, it was harder than he had ever imagined, after all the time he had not seen you since you were released from his fleet, everything between the two of you became suffocatingly awkward. Neither of you knew what to do, what to say, he was beginning to believe that even with the silly coupon (he didn't find it silly... not really), there was no salvaging what the two of you had.

He had destroyed it all in desperation to have you.

So, even though whenever he was near you, he felt like as if is chest was caved in from shame; he stayed by your side. Letting himself silently suffocate because that is what he deserved for letting you down -- or so he believed. It wasn't until you came back injured from a mission, where he ran to you, but he didn't dare touch you, his hands just sort of... hovered over your injuries, his eyes darting around, his brain trying desperately to find a way he could help you without terrifying you again. You sighed and watched him before slowly reaching toward his hand, your fingers brushing against the top of his hand "Caleb..." You whisper, your now strained relationship was hurting a lot more than your physical injuries "Caleb, I am not scared of you... I need you to help me." You push and look at him "Please.." It was true, what happened in Skyhaven was behind you and even though it was killing you with how different the two of you were compared to before, you aren't able to clean all these wounds yourself.

Caleb's eyes softened immediately, and he nodded. "Of course, Pipsqueak, you must be hurting a lot; I'm sorry." He quickly got up and grabbed the first aid kit as he slowly sat you down gently and began to look at your injuries, taking a deep breath before he peeled your sleeves away. "Pips... where did you go to... to get these types of injuries?" He asked gently, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he let out a sigh. "Please, prioritise your safety..." He muttered before continuing to help you as you focused on other wounds. You turn to him and nod "I do, it's just-" He didn't need you to explain, "I know." Was all he said before finishing up and packing the first aid kit "Do you... uh.." He scratched the back of his neck. "Need help with anything else?" He asks gently, but when you shake your head, he just gives you a soft smile and lets you be.

He stood in the kitchen and sighed gently as he slipped the first aid kit back into the cupboard. It wasn't easy to see you like this, in pain and uncomfortable. He just wanted to fix everything; he was good at it whilst he was younger, so why wasn't he good at it now?

He knew you had to do this; you had to save the people the way that you and he weren't in that catastrophe, but he wondered if you were trying to prove something to yourself, too. Caleb wanted to push them, tell you that saving the world wasn't your responsibility, but he has just got you back; you're finally not scared of him anymore; he couldn't ruin that. All he could be is glad that you were here now, that you came to him after all.

He closed the cupboard and prepared a small cup of hot chocolate for the two of you, and sat in the sitting room, waiting for your return.

After getting changed into comfier clothing, you nestled into Caleb, your heart racing slightly in fear he would reject this form of affection after so long... after what you said to him. But, he welcomed it and wrapped his arm around you. "I want to go back to how we used to be.." You say softly, looking up at his big purple eyes. "A-At least, start working towards it... You're my home, Caleb... I don't want this... awkwardness anymore."

You swore you could almost see him levitate off the couch as he practically shone with happiness as if those were the only words he ever needed to hear. "Anything you want, Pipsqueak, I am yours to command."

Rafayel

Rafayel was not an insecure man. At least, that is what everyone else thought. Rafayel, on the other hand, was not so sure. It is not that he felt insecure; it's more he felt this emptiness inside of him, and he had no clue what to fill it with. After all these years, he had you in his grasp once more, so close, yet so far. Because he remembered everything, he even knew what was to come, but you? You're so clueless. He knew how he lost you, how he would lose you and how he could lose you. And he had to deal with this pain and anger all alone.

His past failures jabbed into him as if he were Prometheus, constantly being pecked by a bird. He lived between what was his life and the life he had before, dealing with the betrayal he caused, all for the one he loved, for you, but you didn't know. You will never know.

A part of him did not want you to ever find out what kind of monster he was, afraid he would scare you away, like the otherworldly beast he is, but the other part of him was so tired of carrying this alone.

He wasn't insecure in himself, but insecure for what he could do for you, insecure in his love for you. Would it be enough for you to stay? For the two of you to finally have an entire lifetime together? Would it be worth plunging his people into darkness?

It was a constant spiral he had since you came back into his life, like a rollercoaster, but forever stuck on the loop, the happiness that he finally has you and the pain of what he was - it was a never-ending cycle. That a part of him didn't want to escape; he deserved this pain after all, didn't he? For what is a God who does not live in shame for causing suffering to his people?

But, deep down, he was just afraid he would become unloveable in your eyes. That was his deepest, darkest fear, the one that drowned him in darkness once the night time hit.

You knew something was wrong. It seems silly but when your world was a bit duller, when the grey clouds seemed more prominent or when the lakes and seas swayed as if it was heavy, you knew Rafayel was not himself. So, with a spare bag of seashells in hand and some of the rare materials you knew he liked, you headed over to his place.

The plastic bag twisted against your fingers, almost cutting off circulation entirely as you made your way through the streets and to the beach, slipping your spare key out of your pocket and into the keyhole of the gate, twisting it a few times to unlock the gate.

You gently swished the bag beside you as you made the way to the door, and you imagined your boyfriend's smile when he saw you. However, your heart fell to your stomach as Rafayel's 'organised' mess was scattered and ruined across the floor. The studio was a mess and unkempt; it was almost like an abandoned building.

"Rafayel?" You called out and looked around the place before you saw him sitting on the balcony.

He turned to you, his eyes screaming emotions at you that you had never seen on him before "Cutie..." He whispered meekly.

You fell to your knees by his side once you approached his side and cupped his face "Darling? What has happened? Are you struggling to paint?" You ask as you caress his cheek, your heart fluttering as he leans in as if he hadn't been touched by you in weeks (he saw you yesterday)

"Will you still love me, no matter what I become?" He asked you suddenly, and you froze as you looked at him; the two of you had silently loved each other until now, finding other ways to highlight your love rather than saying it.

"Of course you wouldn't." He muttered bitterly and turned from you, missing how your brows scrunched together with a mix of confusion and anger

"What-?"

"How could an angel like you love a monster like-" "I love you." You blurt out and make him face you, "I wanted to say it in a more romantic way, in a way that you will always remember.... but I love you, Rafayel, no matter what you become.." You smile softly and place a kiss on his cheek and caress it into his skin as if to heal him.

Rafayel's hand slipped down from above yours to your wrist as he searched your eyes for any deceit.

"Promise?" He asks, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly as he anticipates your answer.

"I promise, my heart has always been yours and always will be.

Rafayel may have a piece of him missing, but he was sure it was to be filled by you.

Zayne

Zayne is a man who craves control, not over anyone else, just over himself. He had to, because if he was void of control, there would be cracks and the cracks he could not let you see. If you saw his cracks, how could you trust him as your doctor?

He had let you down once, all those years ago when he left you, abandoned you, even if it was not his choice. But he had a choice now and he would use it to make sure he never let you down again.

So, every single crack he kept to himself, stayed up later, worked later until he could fill them all up again before he could see you. However, as he scribbled down notes on his research, the memories of his nightmares played in his mind, taunting him, punishing him, and he came to accept he deserved it. He shouldn't have let all those people come to die, he was a doctor, and a doctor's role was to save a life, not to let it fade away, yet with every year, the list of his letdowns grew.

Everyone told him that it was expected: that to save a life, you were bound to lose a few; it was how life worked. But not for Zayne, not at all, because with every name that appeared on that list, he was afraid it was a name closer to yours.

He couldn't have that, not when he gave up the life he wanted for yours to prevail.

You, on the other hand, were becoming increasingly worried and slightly frustrated with your doctor because this was the third time you tried to coax him out of his office. You have tried everything; cake, macaroons, sweets... all came to a disappointing ending. You thought that trying something as harmless as sweets wouldn't highlight your increasing worry, and it was small enough so you could get a small look at him.

It had almost been two weeks now, and so you made your way to the hospital. You just wanted to know that he was okay and maybe scold him slightly for shutting you out... again.

Once the doors slid open, you gently greeted Yvonne and walked to Zayne's office after making sure he had no more patients to see. You looked down at the box, a small muffin for Zayne, before inhaling and knocking on the door.

Gosh, you hope he doesn't reject you because as your knuckles collide with the door, It dawns on you that he might be avoiding you because you might have done something wrong.

"Come in."

You gulp down and hold the small box a little tighter in your hand, causing it to crease slightly before opening the door. You shifted on your feet as he was too immersed in his work to even look up at you.

"Hi." You greet him gently and slip the muffin on the table, and his eyes instantly break away from the paper at the sound of your voice

"I thought that since you wouldn't come to me for the sweet treats, I would just come to you because I know you cannot go too long without them." You say lightly and place yourself on the chair opposite his desk.

"Thank you." He says softly and looks between you and his work a couple of times before bunching the papers together in a neat pile and slipping them away. "Did you just come from a mission?" You raise a brow. "Are you not going to explain why I haven't seen you in two weeks? I know being a doctor is exhausting, Zayne, but you normally tell me ahead of time-"

"I didn't want to worry you over something foolish. I have it under control."

"Under control? What is under control? Why aren't you talking to me? You know that I am here." The words fall out, conveying your desperation. You had felt empty without him, alone, and you didn't want to feel that again. "It does not concern you, Y/N." He retorts, "If I thought you needed to know, I would have told you." You bite back your words and nod "Alright.." You sit there silently. You would've typically left, but something told you that this time, you needed to stay, that he needed you.

After a few beats of silence, you try again. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself... I know it may not concern me, but that doesn't mean you have to lock it away."

He tensed up. He hated how you could still see through him, even after all this time. He pulled away from his computer, which he was only looking at to control his anxiety for nearly scaring you away. He released the tension in his shoulders and took the muffin. "I lost a patient... two weeks ago."

Sylus

'What a fool' is all he could think as he sat in his office, piles of vinyl scattered across his usually clean office. No tune or genre was calming him. After all this time, after sensing you like he did, after preparing this life for you, he had scared you away.

He couldn't bear to think that because of who he was, his reputation, and who you believed he was made him lose you, not after all this time, not after the promise the two of you shared, not after what you went through.

He was a fool for pushing you too quick, too hard; his excitement and desperation had blinded him; why was he so hellbent on making you remember if he could just build new memories with you? Foolish.

You not remembering a thing, he could get behind, it made sense, but your hatred, your disgust. That he could not get behind, no matter what you believed about him. All he wanted to do was to have you in his arms and to show you what he had made. It might not be the cave you had a lifetime ago, but it was spectacular in this lifetime. A lifetime he built for you, and you didn't even want it.

He supposed he could understand. You did think he killed your family, even though he would never. All he would do would be to keep you safe. It pained him to understand your point of view, to see him as a monster. He was in his last life, so it only made sense that he was in this one.

But he had made you fall in love with him once, and back then, he was truly a monster, so he could make you fall for him again. He just had to give you the choice to choose him.

So, over the next few weeks, he let you choose him, come back to him. Not pushing or pulling, he didn't need to; the door was always open, and you knew that.

That didn't stop his heart from doing flips in his chest each time he saw you walk through the base's doors.

Tonight, you were also expected to come through the doors; he had the twins make sure the base was clean and tidy, that your room was prepared, and that security was at its highest. It was something he always did when you were coming over.

However, you never showed; you were on a mission, so maybe you went home and forgot; that would be reasonable... except come rain or shine, injury or no injury, if you said you were coming, you were always there.

He knew there was something more to your tardiness; without another thought, he sent Mephisto to look for you, and when he came back, the air was knocked out from Sylus' lungs.

You were found passed out, just outside of the base; it didn't take him a second to cross the base and have you in his arms "Oh, kitten.." He brushed the hair from your face, his heart breaking as you weakly opened your eyes.

"Sylus, I am sorry, I tried to call, but..."

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe now." He tried to use his usual tone with you, but his voice was softer, almost as if he was trying his hardest not to let it break.

He worked quickly to get you patched up, swallowing down his worries and quite possibly his tears as he did so, not even letting the twins near you. He sat with you, putting on your favourite vinyl softly in the background as he waited for you to wake up, not leaving your side, his hand placed on yours, afraid that if he let you go, he would lose you like he almost did tonight and the guilt was eating him alive.

"Stop looking at me like that." You mutter and glance toward him. "You're looking at me like your cat just died." You smirk slightly, and he lets out a chuckle "Kitten, why didn't you ask me to pick you up?"

"I assumed you had business to attend to-" "You should've called me. What happened if you never made it here, if we never found you, if you never came back to me, do you think I could live with myself."

You slowly sit up and look toward him "Sylus, I will always come back to you, always. I will always find myself here. You need to trust me on that."

"I do. It's just tonight seeing you like that made me feel-" "Scared?"

He huffed through his nose and pinched the bridge of it "Something like that..." He brushed the hair out of your face "Call me next time." You nod and smile "I will."

A few days later you were back fighting wanderers, but this time Sylus was by your side, his evol swirling around his arm and his hand "You sure about this, Sweetie?"

You nod "I'm Sure, I am safe by your side."

Sylus smiled; you were safe with him; you chose him, and fighting beside you was the greatest honour to have, so he made sure you left the mission without a scratch.

Xavier

It wasn't unusual for you to not see or hear from Xavier for days; you were sure he would pop up at one of the most convenient moments to be by your side. Or, pop up just before you were assigned another partner by Captian Jenna.

This is what happened; before you, the captain, could even mutter another person's name, Xavier appeared, literally faster than the speed of light beside you. Jenna sighed and cleared her throat. "Y/N, your partner will be Xavier for today's mission.

You didn't even look at him before you went to collect what you needed from the information room, and Xavier didn't seem to mind this. He just followed you obediently and read through the information quickly.

You were brought out of your focus when you suddenly heard his voice.

"Aren't you even going to ask where I was for the past few days?" He questioned and tilted his head, unsure why you're not interrogating him like you usually do.

You shrug and turn back to the tablet sitting in your hands. "Why should I? I trust you. If you want to let me know, you will when you need to."

To you, it was just a simple establishment of trust that you assumed you both knew of, but to Xavier, it was everything, and quite clearly, as little lights started to float around him, there was a slight smile on his face.

Trust was a big deal to him; after meeting you for the second time, he almost felt guilty about how angry you were at him for leaving you behind like he did. Not only that, but he failed his planet and the people on it, as well as the people he dragged here, to try and save you... He had failed them all and probably even you to the point where he believed he wasn't even worthy of trust.

You two didn't make a comment about it from that point. It was almost like, 'What is said in the information room stays in the information room.'

You watched him stand there and fiddle with the protocore between his fingers before, like always, crushing it into oblivion.

"Why do you always do that?" You ask, but he does not answer; he just walks you home. "Xavier, are you feeling okay? You've been silent the whole walk home.."

"I'm alright." He shot you a small smile like he always did and went inside. It was yet another protocore that was a waste, another step further from home, another disappointment to the people relying on him... but, at least, you trusted him.

So, he walked down the stairs and to your apartment and knocked on the door. He didn't even have to say a word, you just let him walk in and sit down, plating up some food for him.

You sit opposite and begin to eat, speaking about trivial things with him before he speaks up, "I don't expect you to understand me fully, but I need to find something, and I can't find it, and it's driving me mad."

"I can help-" you pipe in, but he just shakes his head, causing you to deflate, but you understood him in a way; you had things to do, personal missions to complete that you wouldn't want anyone to touch either. You clear your throat. "Well, if you ever need someone to help cheer you up or clear your mind, you can come here. If I can't help you with your mission, I want to at least help you after them." He smiles and looks at you, placing a star-shaped dumpling into your bowl and nods. "That'll be nice..."

Taglist: @61chai-tea @lueurjun @thebangtancloud @nawysstuff @phantom-astra

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thehoneybeestings · 20 days ago

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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐢

𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

୨ৎ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢

‧₊˚── Synopsis: A year of the baker by Sevika's side, but the baker still has no bite. This bodes questions from certain ill-intentioned alphas, and Sevika must decide if she's ready to answer them.

Word Count: 5.7k Content/Warnings: omegaverse! if it's not your thing don't read it; nsfw, top!sev, bottom!reader, soft dom!sev, reader is referred to w fem terms/pronouns, reader has female anatomy, sev has a dick, breeding kink, brat!reader if you squint, sub space if you squint, dom drop if you squint, blood, reader is harassed but nothing intense or explicit A/N: holy hell. note to self: do not write a fic you actually really like or you will drive yourself crazy trying to make it's sequel perfect. anyhow, here is said sequel after nearly two months! i'm so sorry this took so long, but i truly do love this series and care just as much about the character exploration as i do the smut, so i really hope the wait was worth it! thank you SO much for all of the love on pt. i, and as always, enjoy!

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐁𝐞𝐞 ୨ৎ

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

Sevika slides into the booth tucked in the bar’s back corner.

In a practiced manner, her eyes scan the room. Over her shoulder to the stairs leading up to her apartment. To the wrought iron door at the front of the room. Left to the bar, right to the bathrooms.

She smirks in approval of The Last Drop’s Friday night debauchery, settling in like the foundations of a home well-loved. She reaches for the leather-bound cigar case you’d gifted her a few months back. She keeps the note that had accompanied it in her wallet; a folded piece of pink stationery scribbled in handwriting she’d learned so well after over a year of watching you furiously jot down recipes and grocery lists. “consider this a token of my gratitude and an apology for making you stay up until midnight to taste cupcakes… it most definitely will happen again. :) <3”

Her cigar teeters in her mouth as a wicked grin spreads across her lips. “You boys are so screwed,” she mumbles, lighting the cigar as she glances down at the game of blackjack in progress. “Whatever,” one of her future opponents jeers, “we’re just warming up. Waiting for your ass.” She chuckles through her nose, relishes in the smooth burn of smoke escaping with it.

“Yeah? Well, yours is about to get handed to you. Give ‘em here.”

Oxidised copper glints in neon green light as she reaches for the deck of cards to deal a new round, accompanied by the grumbles of her competition claiming she’s “just going to rig the game again.”

She chortles again, blows a ring of smoke out of her mouth, inhales, and, The smell of honeysuckle.

She turns back to face the stairs again, a nearly untraceable smile gracing her lips as she awaits your descent. A voice like honey to match as you round the corner, beaming when you finally catch sight of her. “She’s out like a light,” you declare, recalling the sight of the girl you'd just put to bed, all snuggled up and holding her favorite blanket as tight as she had been when Sevika found her. “She’s had a big day,” Sevika shrugs.

It had been a big day for the now six-year-old, what with all of the birthday celebrations that had ensued.

Just a few months ago, it dawned on Sevika that Isha had been around for over a year now, but that they’d never celebrated her birthday. It’s unbeknownst to most that tucked away beneath all of her brooding and brawn lies Sevika's firmly held belief that every birthday should be celebrated. She still tries to feign indifference to the occasion, but after a long night of experimenting with different buttercream frosting recipes and a few-too-many glasses of red wine, you’d learned that since her parents’ passing, Sevika always tries to do a little something to honor each of her years. She’d finish off a bottle of her father’s favorite whiskey in her darker days, or recreate her meal from her mother’s recipe book when things felt lighter.

More than anything, her birthdays were a chance to pay homage to her parents. An acknowledgment that not everyone gets the privilege of another year; a promise that she isn’t wasting the time she’s been gifted. That she's using each and every year she gets to make them proud.

This past year- and for the first time since she was 15- Sevika wasn’t alone for her birthday.

Instead, she pulls at the chain of the neon “Open” sign in your bakery’s window, switching it off as you lay eyes on your planner one last time.

You tsk, shaking your head and grabbing a pen to jot something down on the color-coded calendar. “I have to get powdered sugar tomorrow,” you muse, “don’t let me forget.”

“10-4,” she replies, sauntering over to you with an amused grin as she watches you chew your bottom lip; something you always do when you’re focused. She leans down to mirror your position, placing her elbows on the counter and her chin in her palm.

“Oh- and it’s Doris’s birthday on Sunday! I’ll swing by and drop something off for her… she really likes cinnamon rolls…”

You’re talking to yourself. Sevika still hangs onto every word. A smile stretches across her lips, slow and lazy. Her eyes follow your mindless ministrations; the way you twirl your pen with your dominant hand, the way the other taps rhythmically on the cool granite beneath it, the way you click the pen twice every few moments-

“When is your birthday?”

The question pulls her out of the trance she'd unwittingly fallen into. “Oh… uh…” She knows she’s about to get in trouble for not having told you. She also knows that following the trouble she’s about to get into, you’ll immediately make a fuss about making sure the day is properly celebrated, that she feels properly appreciated. The thought makes her heart ache. You already make her feel that way every day. She can’t stand to ask you for more. Alas, she knows better than to rob you of the opportunity to dote. She grabs your wrist- gentle and gingerly as always- and peers down at the watch face adorning it.

“Well, I was born at 7:02 p.m., so technically, it’s in… 42 minutes?” A bashful smile breaks out on her face, her hands coming up to cover it.

“Sevika!”

Her name on your lips. She’ll take it any way she can get it, even if it means you’re scolding her because now, you don’t have time to make her favorite dessert. So, she lets you fuss, lets you sing her happy birthday and demand that she make a wish before she blows her candle out, and ends up crying over a slice of carrot cake because it’s been over 20 years since someone cared about this day as much as she does. It wasn’t long after that night that Sevika had her realization about Isha’s own birthday. She spent the next few weeks searching high and low for a certificate of Isha’s birth, or even just information on where she came from; who her parents were, where they lived, and if they might have had relatives who might know about Isha and when she was born. You never had the heart to tell her that she was setting out on a mission made nearly impossible by Zaun’s lack of record-keeping; partially because you figured Sevika could use any and all slivers of hope when and wherever she could get them, and partially because you figured that deep down, she already knew it was a lost cause.

The two of you are folding laundry on a Sunday afternoon when she finally concedes that she may be out of luck. Her shoulders are slouched in defeat, and her lips are pursed in thought as she thumbs over the silk tag on Isha’s favorite blanket. I get why she does this, she thinks. It does feel nice.

Her gaze falls down to the silk tag between her thumb and pointer finger, and suddenly, she sits up straight.

Your anticipatory gaze is already on her when she speaks.

“She turns six next week.”

Your brows knit together in confusion.

“Are the prophetic visions new? Or…” Sevika doesn’t answer; just thrusts the blanket toward you, and lo and behold, there it is. Written in black ink on the butter-yellow baby blanket’s tag:

Isha

5-15-2019

The revelation unearths a side of Sevika you’ve never seen. By the time May 15th rolls around, her apartment is covered in confetti, balloons, and stuffed animals wearing party hats; all Sevika’s doing. But, naturally, a birthday party for Isha is nothing without a batch of her favorite blueberry muffins, and you’re more than happy to deliver.

The recent memory of wiping sugared blueberries from the corners of the girl’s mouth pops into your head, and a warm smile appears on your face.

“She sure did,” you agree with Sevika, placing a hand on her shoulder as you take your seat beside her. “I’m gonna get a drink in a second; do you-” Sevika’s eyes are still trained on her cards as she slides a vodka-cranberry over to you. “You take such good care of me,” you purr, and she glances over at you with a smirk and a cocked brow that says, ‘Careful.’

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know she gets off on taking care of you.

You innocently shrug your shoulders as you wrap your lips around the two tiny straws in your drink. She chuckles, as always, because, “you know those are for stirring, not for sipping, right?”

Tonight, she makes no comment, letting you sip through your too-small straws in peace in exchange for focusing on the cards in her mech hand and the grip the other has on your thigh.

The grip that tightens a few rounds later when the table’s sore loser is replaced by a newcomer.

He’s a patron she’s yet to come across. An alpha she's yet to come across. It's unusual. Unexpected. Sevika isn’t fond of the unexpected.

She’s less fond of the way his eyes seem to be drinking you in, and the way you seem to stiffen underneath his ogling.

“Mind if I join?” he queries.

She might have already slapped this man's cocky grin off of his face if you weren’t to her right, already noticing the clench of her jaw that he doesn’t yet know is a threat.

You wrap your arm around hers, thumb rubbing circles into the taut muscle of her forearm. ‘It’s okay,’ your touch says. ‘Calm down. I’m okay.’

You read her so well that, sometimes, she thinks you might be telepathic. She relaxes under your wordless comforts so quickly that you think the same of her.

All she offers the man is a grunt and a single nod toward the empty seat in front of him. Her eyes don’t leave him for a second as he sits. She’s determined to solve this man like her morning crossword, and you nearly mistake the soft whir of her prosthetic for the sound of wheels turning in her head.

She shuffles the cards, deals two to each player at the table, lights a new cigar. She doesn’t take her eyes off of him once. She’ll kick herself when she finally does, because as soon as her icy gaze relents, he’s got questions, and they aren’t about the rules of the game.

“She yours for the night?” He asks. He cocks his head toward you, but the inquiry is for Sevika; an inquiry that earns him a deep scowl.

“She’s not a whore. Walk down the street and hang a left for that.”

“You would know, huh?”

Strike one.

The look she gives him this time around is scarier. It isn’t one of annoyance, of being mildly agitated. It’s chiding. Stony. The look she gives Jinx and Isha when the answer is no, and you’d better not ask again.

The man raises his hands in surrender, leans back in his chair with a lazy grin, and says he’s sorry, but you both know he’s happy to be making trouble.

“Just play the damn game, man,” another player bemoans. The rest of the table’s occupants are just here for whiskey and a card game, not to see Sevika beat the shit out of some random prick; and they all know the latter is exactly where this interaction is headed.

Unfortunately, it seems that said prick wants to get the shit beat out of him more than everyone else wants their whiskey and a card game.

“She’s real pretty,” he drawls, looking down at his cards.

“She’s not interested.”

Sevika notes a second strike, huffing out a laugh as dry as your words.

“Mouthy, too, huh? Back in my day, they didn’t let whores talk this much.” Three strikes, and you’re out. Sevika leans back with an eerie calmness. The rest of the table has already begun rising from their seats.

“Honey?” she purrs, pinching her cigar between two fingers and placing it on the ashtray at the center of the table, “You wanna go get us another round?” Sure, you’ll make yourself busy doing that, but that isn’t what she’s really asking you.

What she really asks is: “Can I beat his ass yet?”

Your sweet hum of confirmation says, “Yes….”

The kiss you place on her cheek before you head to the bar adds, “...And don’t go easy on him.”

You’re not even two feet away before you hear the sound of his chair scraping against the floor, his cries of protest as she grabs him by the collar of his leather jacket and drags him out to the dumpsters behind the building.

“New guys,” the bartender sighs, shaking their head as they get to work on a vodka-cran and whiskey served neat. “They never know when to stop.”

You’re already halfway through your drink when she returns, walking over to you. To the naked eye, she’s completely unassuming; you’d think she just went to take a piss. The splatter of blood on the collar of her shirt says otherwise, but it’s not like she’d let anyone but you get close enough to notice it.

The blood stain isn’t what grabs your attention, though. Instead, it’s the look in her eye, the furrow of her brow, the small frown pulling down at her dark lips.

Uncertainty.

Sevika is never uncertain after a fight.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, your voice low and urgent.

She clenches her jaw, shakes her head, exhales sharply through her nose.

“Nothing. Just tired.”

Your eyes narrow.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night. I should probably stay at my place with the girls tonight. You know, make sure they get to Doris’s alright in the morning.”

You nod, letting her get away with thinking you take her words at face value, but the entire point of having Doris watch the kids was to spend time with each other; to be together, not apart. For all intents and purposes, Doris was like a mother to you, and for all intents and purposes, you’d become something like a mother to Jinx and Isha yourself, so Doris had offered to start keeping the girls every other weekend.“Let me watch the grandbabies,” she’d warmly insisted, “You two deserve the break every once in a while.”

That was the point. That the girls would go off to Doris’s for a few days, and you and Sevika would indulge in some much-needed alone time. But now, for the first time in over a year, Sevika’s asking to sleep alone.

You let her. You know better than to push too hard when she’s closing up.

But never, in her guardedness or uncertainty, does Sevika neglect to take care of you, and when she still insists on walking you home, a weak smile breaks out on your face.

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

You let Sevika sulk for two days before you show up at her doorstep with a slice of carrot cake and a stern request for an explanation.

You’re not ignorant of the drawbridge Sevika tends to raise when she feels powerless, but this is the longest you’ve ever waited for it to come back down, and you can’t help but worry that, maybe, you’ve done something wrong.

Her face falls when you admit this, and she knows it’s time to let you back in. You sit across from each other at her small kitchen table, her eyes downcast, but her hand still stretching across the unstained wood to grasp your own. You rub slow, firm circles into the back of her hand, the motion steady and reassuring. Exactly what you are to her.

“You remember that asshole at the bar the other night?” “Unfortunately,” you deadpan. “You fucked his shit up, right?” She snorts, her lip curling up into a smirk. She doesn’t need to tell you that of course she did.

Her smirk falters. There it is again; uncertainty.

“He just, uh… he said something that kind of got under my skin.”

He was already pinned up against the wall and his nose was already broken when he got these final words in:

“You fight like she belongs to you,” he'd jeered, “but I didn’t see a bite.”

To say this got under her skin was a massive understatement. It rocked her. So much so that she felt the ground underneath her feet quake, and the world she’d built around you fracture.

She realized in that moment that she holds you the way she does, so gentle and gingerly, because she’s afraid she’ll drop you and you’ll shatter. That everything you have will crumble, that she’ll realize none of this is real;

Because he was right. You don’t have her bite. You aren’t really hers.

“How so?” you ask, your voice so soft amidst the one she’d been chastising herself with for the past two days.

She rubs her temples, mulling over your question with a deep sigh.

“I don’t know… I mean, don’t you feel like we’re just playing house sometimes? I mean, don’t get me wrong, It’s not that I-” She interrupts herself with a huff, and you squeeze her calloused hand, encouraging her to continue.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to be with you; to be around you, and for you to be around the girls… but I just… I don’t know.” She does know. She’s just terrified to say it.

You give her a knowing smile.

But you don’t fill in the gaps; you don’t finish the sentence for her.

You’re going to make her say it.

And finally, she does.

“I want more.”

Your hand freezes, but your grip remains firm. Your eyes are glued to her own.

You’re still here. You’re still steady, still constant, but you need her to be sure.

“You want more?”

Her shoulders slouch as she sharply exhales, her brows knit together, and you swear you hear her whine.

“I don’t want to play pretend anymore. I want you to be mine.”

You nod, slow and knowing. A pregnant pause settles over the kitchen table until,

“Bite me, then.”

Her expression doesn’t change, but her pupils blow wide and her jaw ticks.

“If you want me to be yours, make me yours.”

Her voice is damn near an octive lower when she speaks again.

“And you know what you’re asking for?” “If I haven’t made it clear that I want a life with you, then I’m sorry for not being forward enough,” you chortle. “I want to be yours, Sevika. I want you. Now.”

She stands with a relieved chuckle. “Now?”

“Right now,” you repeat with a giggle, rising to meet her.

“Right now? Right here? And ruin my handmade kitchen table?”

She’s bending you over it anyway.

“You seem to have made up your mind already,” you challenge, pushing back against broad hips. She grabs at the flesh of your own, leaning down to place a kiss on your jaw before she mutters,

“I’ve had my mind made up since the day we met, sugar.” Her hands smooth over the swell of your ass, kneading at the juction of your thighs just below it before sliding the soft fabric of the white sundress she’d bought you up to pool around your waist.

And then, she’s kneeling before you; like you’re her altar, and she’s come to leave an offering.

She tugs your underwear down and tastes you like it’s worship.

Her hands find purchase wrapped around your legs, and her tongue works through dewy petals in slow, purposeful strokes, lapping up the nectar pooling at your core. She swirls her tongue around your clit like the cubes of ice she’d put in her vodka-cran earlier. She hates vodka-crans, but she missed you more, and when she tries hard enough, she can convince herself she’s tasting the too-sweet cocktail on your mouth instead.

But nothing makes her tispy quite like tasting you does, and she doesn’t stop until she’s drunk off of you.

You cry out, high-pitched and broken, and she pulls her mouth off of you with a pop.

She stands up, turns you around, looks down at you with lidded eyes and glossy lips tugging up into a smirk. “Why’d you stop?” You pant, brows pulling together.

“Missed your face,” and she’s so dizzy off of your pussy, she’s damn near slurring her words.

You scoff in amusement, pulling her in for a taste of your own arousal. “You’re such a lover boy,” you muse against her lips.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” she replies.

“Is that right?”

She quirks a curious brow at the sound of your wicked purring.

“And if I want you to be inside of me?”

Darkened eyes peer down at you with a new hunger.

“What you say, goes, baby.”

She reaches down to tap the back of your thigh in a wordless command, and you wrap your legs around her waist. She buries her head in the crook of your neck, shamelessly inhaling the scent of honeysuckle and musk as she carries you to her bedroom and lays you out onto soft sheets and silk pillow cases.

“They’re so much better for your hair,” you’d excitedly explained as you shoved them into the cart.

“What you say, goes.”

She’d said it and meant it then, too.

Your hands are tugging at her belt now. You pull her in, muttering something about how much you missed her, how badly you want her.

She yanks it off in one quick, fluid motion. You make even quicker work of unbuttoning her pants, sliding them off of broad hips and long legs, and throwing them toward the pile of clothes already discarded on the floor.

When she sits back on her heels to take her shirt off, you do the same, reaching for the hem of your pretty white dress.

“Uh-uh,” she suddenly chimes, “leave that on.”

You chuckle, leaning back on your elbows as you watch her strip her last layers of clothes off.

She’s a bronze statue, sculpted by the Gods themselves, glimmering in the golden hour light spilling through her windows. Your jaw is slack, eyes heavy as you drink her in. They dart from feature to feature; the stray tendrils of thick, black hair falling around her strong jaw, the glittering scar spreading across her skin like lightning, the swell of her breasts and the cut of her waist, the dark trail of hair leading straight down to her length, hot and heavy, already weeping for you.

Your eyes snap up to meet her own, and when they do, she pounces.

Just as ready to ruin you as you are to be ruined.

You gasp into a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue. She only pulls away to breathe, dazed eyes drinking in your features.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty…”

She plants a kiss on your nose. “You know that?” Another on your cheek. “Such a pretty girl.” Chaste kisses trail across your jaw, teeth find the lobe of your ear, an open-mouthed kiss is pressed against your neck. “Can’t wait to watch you fall apart. So fuckin’ pretty when you fall apart.”

A broken whimper escapes you. You feel her smirk against your throat.

“Yeah?” She croons, tongue darting out to slide over your windpipe. “You want me to take you apart, baby?”

You whisper a “please,” subtle as the twitch of your hips.

It’s all the begging she’ll let you do for the rest of the night. Being loved by Sevika means wanting for nothing, and she’ll be damned if you ever have to beg for the pleasure she was put on this earth to give you.

She reaches over for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, and you’re already spreading your legs for her.

“Somebody’s eager,” She teases, stroking her erection and spreading the clear gel over its length.

“Just missed you,” you pant, all but drooling as you watch her prepare herself for you.

A pang of guilt shoots through her. She knows you don’t mean anything by it, knows you aren’t trying to make her feel bad for closing off, running away.

Still, she feels bad anyhow. Knows you didn’t deserve that. Props herself up with her free hand, lines up with the entrance of your heat, and vows to make it up to you.

She drives her hips forward, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, and she stills inside of you, gritting her teeth and trying her best to stay calm despite the rhythmic pulse of your walls around her cock begging her to ravage you.

She sure as hell could- and she sure as hell wants to- but just as always, she puts you first.

Your breath quickens as the sensation of being so full proves overwhelming, and her hand snakes up from your hip to splay across your chest.

“Breathe for me, sugar,” she lowly coos. “You’re okay.”

She gives you a soft smile and gentle praise when you obey, her palm warm against your skin as it trails up to cup your jaw. She leans down, body caging your own.

“You ready?” She asks, her mech hand reaching down to hook your leg up and around her waist.

The pulse of your heat around her speaks for you.

“Janna above,” she chortles, letting her head fall down to nestle into your shoulder, “I’m really trying to keep it together, here.”

You lace your fingers through the soft strands of hair at the nape of her neck and turn to place your lips on the shell of her ear. Then, you whisper, low and dangerous.

“I don’t want you to keep it together. Fuck me like you mean it.”

A growl against your neck, sharp canines scraping the skin, and the delicious pressure of the head of her dick against your cervix, all at once.

If this is how it starts, you can’t wait to see how it ends.

Your grip on her tresses tightens as she sets a punishing pace, snarling in your ear.

“You gonna tell me if it’s too much?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage through airy moans.

“Good. You gonna remember you asked for this when you can’t walk straight tomorrow?”

You giggle, dazed and blissed-out.

“Answer me, baby,” she warns, gripping your jaw like a vice, the metal cool against your flushed cheeks.

You bite your lip, bat your lashes, and nod with wide eyes, feigning innocence.

You’re being testy tonight. It isn’t the first time it’s happened.

Out in public, you’re the picture of patience. You never lash out, you never raise your voice, you’re never petty or passive-aggressive. Unyieldingly, frustratingly patient.

She quickly discovers why. Learns that it isn’t for your lack of a backbone, but because you’re patient enough to wait for moments like these, when all she wants is your surrender, your submission.

That’s when you bite back.

It’s not like she can blame you. She knows you're upset that she all but left you for almost three days, and knows this is your way of telling her.

And if you want your apology in the form of being fucked dumb, it’s not like she’s going to say no.

She chuckles back, grabs the back of both of your thighs, presses them to your chest, and pounds into you until you scream.

It isn’t long before you’re a mess underneath her. Legs trembling, eyes rolling back, blabbering. She watches you slip into euphoria, and quick strokes turn languid.

“Look at me, love,” she rasps, setting your calves on her shoulders; and when your eyes flutter open, you find her staring back with pure adoration.

“You okay?” She nods.

“I’m okay,” you nod back. “Love you s’much…”

And her heart nearly breaks.

She leans down, shushing you softly when you mewl at the feeling of her sinking even deeper into you.

She’s pressed right up against your womb. You can feel her twitching inside of you.

That’s when it happens. That’s when you picture her filling you up, being swollen with her seed, and then with her babies; and suddenly, you’re reaching down to rub at your own clit, fingers working frantically, hips bucking desperately.

And you’re pushing her head down into your shoulder.

“Use your words, honey,” she pants, rutting into you. “Not until you use your words.”

She doesn’t let you beg. Only makes you say it once.

“Bite me, Sevika.”

And what you say, goes.

Sharp canines sink into soft skin. Suddenly, you’re standing behind the counter, wiping flour-covered hands onto a blush-colored apron, letting her know that Isha’s safe. Then, you’re sitting on a barstool in your kitchen, sipping wine and writing down an updated recipe for your famous carrot cake, because she swore it was better with more cinnamon. Next, you’re giving her a slice of that same cake for her birthday, and then you’re doing laundry together, knocking over piles of folded clothes to make out like a couple of teenagers.

Finally, you’re curled in up in ball on your bed, surrounded by every pillow and blanket you could find, and the hand that rubs soothing circles in between your shoulders ends up pressing you down into the sheets as your velvet walls spasm around her length.

The flash of memories is so vivid, she nearly forgets that she’s seven inches and two canines deep inside of you, but the cry of her name from your lips sobers her like a splash of cold water in the face, and when she finds you just as inundated in an earth-shattering orgasm, her own is quick to follow.

She cums with her teeth still planted in your neck. Doesn’t pull away until both of you are boneless and breathless.

When she does, her eyes are glued to the mark she left. Droplets of dark red bead up on your skin in the shape of her bite. You don’t miss the way her eyes widen, the way her breath hitches, and when she brings her fingers up to her lips to feel for blood, you realize she’s afraid she’s hurt you.

“Hey, hey,” you quickly plead, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m okay, Sev. I’m not hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You sure?” She exhales, eyes still locked onto the fresh wound as she lets you pull her in to lie on your chest.

“Look at me, angel,” you coo.

She tears her eyes away from the bite and cranes her head to look up at you with glassy eyes.

You’re not surprised that Sevika seems so overwhelmed; that she trembles in your arms, that her breath comes out shaky as it evens out. You’d always heard that giving a bite can be just as intense as getting one, so you went into this more than ready- more than willing- to walk Sevika through whatever that looked like for her.

You stroke her hair, trace the strong lines of her face, press your thumb into the tight muscle of her scarred shoulder.

“I’m sure,” you finally respond. “I promise.”

She finally relaxes in your hold. Settles in like the foundations of a home well-loved.

You fall asleep first. She’s careful as she stands to make her way to the bathroom, where she dampens a rag and grabs a first-aid kit. Her heart feels so big she’s afraid it’ll burst as she gently wipes away at the mess between your thighs and disinfects the bite on your neck.

She lies back down next to you, drapes an arm around your waist, and for the first time since she started taking them, she wearily eyes the bottle of suppressants on her nightstand.

──˚₊୨ৎ‧₊˚──

The discovery of Isha’s 6th birthday meant the realization that it was time to send her to school. Sevika knows it’s a necessity, an important milestone, an inevitable part of life when you choose to raise a child.

That doesn’t make it any less difficult; doesn't change that tears prick her eyes as she walks out of Piltover Elementary, having just dropped the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed girl off for her first day of first grade.

“Don’t cry, mama,” you smile, squeezing her hand as she turns once more to look up at the opulent school building. It hadn’t been easy, deciding to enroll Isha in a school Topside, and Sevika would be lying if she said her ego hadn’t been a bit wounded for it. Still, she’d be damned if Isha didn’t have access to the best education there was in the safest place there was, and right now, that was Piltover Elementary.

You promised her it’d be just fine, that she’d be right across the street all day at the Council’s headquarters, and she promised herself to use all of that time fighting for better education in Zaun.

She knows it’s the right choice. Knows Isha will do great. But no one prepared her for how hard it’d be to have a piece of your heart walking around outside of your body.

She didn’t think she’d ever have that; didn’t even think she wanted it, but now, she’s watching a line of Pre-K students with bookbags too big for their tiny bodies trail up to the front doors of the school, and a smile is tugging at her lips.

You read her mind. Nudge her arm. When she looks over at you, you wear a knowing smile of your own.

“What?” She mutters, looking away bashfully.

“You want more babies, don’t you?”

She’s getting ready to scoff and brush off such a ridiculous assumption, but then, one of the kids figures out how to blow a raspberry, and a chorus of high-pitched giggles rings out.

She sighs in defeat.

“I want more babies.”

──˚₊ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ‧₊˚──

Taglist: @mewl3tte, @tsubiki, @lia-winther, @mommyissuesismypersonality, @hbwrelic, @ahintofchaos, @djstinkyfartz, @sevikaswifeomm, @rareanduselessbird, @livslifeonline, @sevikas-baby, @strawberrylipglossx, @sillylittlejellyfish, @sevikaovipositee

(i tagged everyone who expressed interested in pt. 1; if you'd like to be removed, just shoot me a comment or a message and i'm more than happy to do so, no hard feelings!)

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika imagine #sevika oneshot #sevika smut #alpha!sevika #arcane smut #arcane oneshot #arcane imagine #sapphic #lesbian #wlw #arcane #arcane au #sevika au #omegaverse #arcane omegaverse

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crunchystarz · 20 days ago

Note

Hii! Thanks for clarifying your character limit! ＼(^o^)／

I wanted to request Housewardens hearing the readers voice for the first time, even tho they thought reader was completely mute. Like the reader never communicated verbally and normally always talks in sign language and then they suddenly hear them speak, even if their voice is rather quiet. When asked why they never communicate verbally, if they can speak, they answer that talking verbally is really exhausting for them and not something they like doing, which is also the main reason they learned sign language.

Take your time and thank you!! (´^ω^`)

"YOU CAN SPEAK?!?

Housewardens (separately) x GN!reader

Summary: You're a quiet person in the sense you don't talk ever. People learned to communicate with you in other ways however what happens when you speak around the housewardens suddenly.

Cw- Reader isn't explicitly mentioned to be yuu, Could be read as romantic or platonic, slight crack (ish) , Leona calls you little mouse.

A/N : I'm backkk from my hiatus that was way longer than expected Sorry this took SO long to get out and a bit shorter than I'd like, I just hate Azul so much that writing for him had me losing my mind/j(all jokes aside I had some personal stuff AND school was alot LMAO so I just couldn't find the time but I hope you enjoy regardless) (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)-your fav vamp

Riddle Rosehearts

The redheaded boy was lost in thought. He subconsciously tapped his foot impatiently. Ace and Deuce had promised to be on time. Of course, in traditional adeuce fashion, the two are nowhere to be seen.

The housewarden grumbles to himself. He doesn't hear when footsteps pitter-patter into the room. You watch him quietly as usual. You're quick to realize that he's busy in his head and didn't notice your presence. it was hard to get his attention whenever he's like this.

"Why, Good morning, Riddle!"

A quiet and almost meek voice catches him off guard. He quickly turns to the owner of the voice, only to be met with you a teasing smile was plastered on your face.

His round gray eyes somehow got bigger. His face full of shock. He clears his throat, trying to remain his usual professional self. A hand finds his chest.

He had never heard you speak before. It didn't make communication any different for him since he already had some prior knowledge of sign language. You were more than happy when you found out. So hearing your actual voice had taken him back a bit.

"[Name], you sure did startle me there …I wasn't aware you could —"

"Speak?" You responded. Again, voice quiet just like before.

Riddle let out a hum before nodding his head. He glanced away, his cheeks tinged the lightest shade of pink. “Yes, that. I just…simply hadn’t heard you before."

You chuckled a bit at his flustered appearance and leaned forward a bit with your hands behind your back. “I didn’t have anything important to say,” you murmured."… It's more ideal for me to stay quiet," you continued with a shrug. He hummed again, not making eye contact.

“…You were waiting for Ace and Deuce,” you said after a beat, the corner of your mouth twitching just a little. Taking amusement in Riddles stunned state, “Should I scold them for you?”

That earned a laugh. A real one, short but still genuine. Riddle looked at you. Not used to your voice one bit. You could see it on his face even if he tried to remain unfazed

“Tempting,” he said, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “But I’m sure I’ll have the pleasure myself soon enough.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, placing a hand over your mouth as you did. The sound of loud footsteps started to rapidly approach. There in the doorway stood Ace and Deuce, both wearing an awkward expression. Clearly out of breath, as they had ran. Riddle looked anything but impressed, arms crossed.

“You're late,” He spoke, placing a hand on his hip. Ace let out a nervous chuckle while Deuce just smiled sheepishly. You giggled before nodding and pointing to the door. The three understood you were taking your leave. They waved. Before you could fully make your way out, you turned back.

“ Go easy on 'em, Riddle,” is all you said before walking away. You wished you could see the shock on their face. The housewarden couldn't help but chuckle at your antics.

Leona Kingscholar

In the botanical garden the lion beast man lay basking in the sun. He rolled over from his side to his back letting his tail fall into his lap. His ears flickered at a sound. He grumbles one eye opening.

"I know you're here herbivore" He spoke turning his head in the direction you were coming from. You poked your head from behind a bush.

Since you didn't talk you and Leona made up a small "game" over some time. How close you could get to catching him off guard. You often try and sneak up on him but with his heightened sense well almost everything it never really worked. He'd always catch you by the sound of your movements or your general scent.

You learned to be a bit quicker and quieter on your feet but turns out you weren't careful enough. You pouted before walking over and plopping down next to him.

"you're never gonna surprise me by sneaking up on me like that you know" He chuckled, voice cocky. You couldn't help but raise a brow. You poked the inside of your cheek, before an idea hit you. Maybe you didn't have to sneak up on him to catch him off guard.

"is that so?"

His emerald eyes quickly shot open. His ears laid flat. A soft voice. Quiet but very much there. Leona looked around but there was no one else around.

"That was you?" He said. Clearly he knew the answer he was just still in a bit of shock. Baffled even. You nodded, you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

"Maybe" you said placing a finger on your lips. Forging a fake coy smile. The brunette rolled his eyes. His tail playfully smacks you causing you to scoot back and glare at him. He just closes his eyes and lays back down.

"I guess I finally win" you spoke again hands falling into your lap. That earns a deep chuckle to emerge from his chest.

"Dirty move herbivore, but I can't help but respect the play" he said with a shrug "Didn't know ya had a voice thought you were just a silent lil mouse " He continued, voice teasing. You huffed and sat back.

"Why haven't you talked before, thought you were mute this whole time" Leona said breaking the silence.

"I just never really felt like it, it's always been exhausting me I suppose" You mumbled. He let out a hum in acknowledgement.

"Can't blame you, people are a pain to talk to— you almost gave me a heart attack though don't go 'round just scarin' me like that" The lion teased.

You giggled before flopping your body next to his. "You just sound like a sore loser to me Kingscholar" You huffed smiling. He opened one eye to look down at you. Eyes closed, snuggling closer into his side. He couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"if I'm anything it's not that little mouse" He responded , shifting to flick your forehead. You moved back a bit and stuck out your tongue. "What you do like my voice" you jokingly retaliated.

“Nah, your voice suits you,” he added casually before relaxing his body and letting an arm drape over you like a blanket. He soon felt himself drift back into a slumber syncing his breathing with your own.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul stared at the paper in from of him for some time. He kept pushing the pen down with a click. His mind seemingly wondered. He needed help reviews on which new dish he should add to the mostro lounge menu. However the tweels were not any help.

He couldn't seem to get anyone to give an honest opinion. Maybe he should go to Ruggie? He'd do anything for free food. He'd have to track him down first. Sevens know what work Leona has him running around doing. He groaned and placed his head in his hands. It wasn't anything to get work up over he told himself. He'd figure it out.

As if the sevens heard him the answer to his problems walked through the door. You waved from the doorway. He smiled and sat up.

"Ah [Name]! Perfect timing" He spoke clasping his hands together. You tilted your head.

You somehow end up in mostro lounge sitting with three meals in front of you. The first two were okay. Azul slid over the third plate.

He watched as your eyes basically turned into stars. He smiled at your reaction wtched as devoured the food in front of you.

"I presume you enjoy that one the most yes?"

"it's delicious!"

"Yes I s- [Name] did you just speak" Azul said with a smile still on his face. On the outside he was calm and collected. On the inside everything went off balance.

You nodded and swallowed what was left in your mouth. "Yeah it's so good this one should get added!" You chirped.

He clears his throat trying to ignore the way so many questions flooded his head.Azul sat back slowly, hands folding in front of him like he was trying to ground himself. “Forgive me, but… I was under the impression that you were nonverbal.”

You looked down at your plate, fingers brushing over the edge. “I usually am. Talking’s… hard. Not like physically, just—draining” you explained.

Azul’s brows knit together, he just hummed"…I see,” he finally said, placing a hand in his chin. “Then I must thank you. You chose to use your voice here. With me.”

You nodded, still a little shy, and Azul’s lips formed a faint smile—genuine this time, not his usual polished expression.

“In that case,” he said, picking up a pen and notepad, “I’d be a poor host if I didn’t let your taste decide our next special.”

Kalim Al Asim

The house warden tugged at your sleeve as he led you somewhere. Where? You don't know— you never know with Kalim honestly. He wanted to show you something he said. You were silent the whole walk just letting him tug you along

Kalim was used to your silence. From the moment you met, he never once made you feel strange for only using sign language. He tried to pick up some sign language turnng it into game...even if he wasn't the best. He'd cheer every time he got a phrase right. He never pushed, never asked why you didn’t speak. He just… accepted you. He never expected you to speak.

He was so excited he seemed a bit zoned out only having tunnel vision for where he needed to go. You had a bit of a hard time keeping up with his fast pace..

"Kalim slow down!" You yelped. You had tripped on the uneven flooring, stumbling forward slightly. He quickly let go and turned all his attention to check if you were alright. He gave you a sympathetic look.

"oh I'm sorry! You okay [Name?]" Kalim asked with a pout. You nodded and he smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good sorry sometimes I get carried away" He chuckled. It got quite for a bit. Then it hit him. Gears finally started to turn. Kalim froze completely. His red eyes went huge.

"You talk?!" He shouted. You covered your mouth as you tried not to laugh at his dramatic reaction.

"That is so cool!" Kalim beamed. He grabbed your hands lifting them a bit. It was such a small thing for him to be excited about. Reacting as if you speaking was mind blowing.

"it's really not that big of a deal, I just don't like talking all too much, it's a bit draining" you laughed nervously. Kalim paused, squeezing your hands gently.

“Then don’t ever feel like you have to. I love your signing! But—thank you. For trust and choosing to share your voice with me 'n stuff ” He ranted, his smile softened, radiating nothing but pure warmth. You nodded and let him proceed to drag you along. The whole time he was asking you questions, swinging your arms back and forth.

Vil Schönheit

Vil hummed to himself as he applied the finishing touches on your face. You shudder as the cool liquid eyeliner was brushed in the creases of your eyes. He pulled away and examined you, hand gently gripping your chin and angling your head where he desired.

He smiled before turning his attention to the earrings that sat hooked up on the vanity. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between the two pairs. You tilt your head and sign 'whats wrong'. Vil just lets out a sigh and shakes his head. He places a hand on his chin.

"It's nothing it just appears I am having trouble deciding which pair would complete the look more " He finally spoke. You met out a hum and shifted in your seat to get a better look at the jewelry. Perfectly manicured hands lifted the jewels up and placed either one of them on each side of your face.

"What do you think [Name]?" He asked looking for your reaction. He expected you to point at whichever one you decided you liked more instead you surprised him.

"I think the purple pair compliments the eyeshadow you choose more" You explained, voice soft.

"I suppose you're core— erk"

You had never seen Vil make such an expression not even in the movies he acts in. He blinked slowly before gaining his composer once more. This wasn't the oddest thing to happen suddenly in his career. Regardless hearing your voice understandably surprised him. Clearing his throat he sat down the earrings.

"You sure did catch me off guard, Darling" He said with a little chuckle. You felt a cheeky smile spread across your face. You sat back and shrugged forging innocence.

"You react as if you haven't heard my voice before" you teased. The model raised a brow at your antics.

"Yes almost as if" he replied sarcastically. You let out a giggle as he threaded the earrings with the purple gems through your ear lobe. "Talking is simply a chore no?" You said snuggly as he pulled back.

"Can't say I disagree with that statement, and your choice of jewelry either" He spoke with a smile.

Idia Shroud

You laid in Idia's lap listening to the sound of his controller. You had started to drift off as the night stretched on. Idia had been gaming for quite a while. You were originally watching him play as usual but soon you found yourself laying your head on his lap as he still continued to play his game.

Idia didn't talk much on the regular but in his element he could yap up a storm. It was perfect for you two since you didn't talk at all and he didn't like much conversation but you still listened when he did end up talking. Nights where he'd end up mumbling mostly to himself and you listened weren't uncommon.

You cracked one of your eyes open. The housewarden kept grumbling about being stuck at the level he was currently on. Too stubborn to look at any tutorials and was planning on going through trial and error. Luckily you knew how to gety past the level having already played a while back.

It was rare for you to know something about a game Idia didn't. Sleepily you shifted and pointed at the character on his screen." You have to go back the way you came, the parkour was supposed to be impossible " you mumbled before yawning.

Idia let out a yelp at the sudden voice. He looked around before looking down at you. You lay smug and very very sleepy in his lap. Shock was plastered on his face. He couldn't even form proper words just stuttered.

"[Name]?!?" He finally got out. Yellow eyes wide as ever. You shifted to where your cheek rested on his thigh. You simply hummed in response.

"You talk ! " He exclaimed. You didn't respond properly just nodded and snuggled closer. He let out a huff still completely baffled that you had said anything at all. He couldn't question you as you had already fallen asleep by the time he finally collected himself.

Malleus Draconia

The dragon fae quietly watched as you struggled to get a book from a high shelf. You had come to the school library to find a book on a certain plant for professor Crewel's class however the book you needed was unfortunately out of reach.

"Struggling Child of a man?" A cool voice said as Malleus suddenly appeared behind you. Startling you enough to cause you to jump. You turned and glared at him, narrowing your eyes. He just smiled showing off his fangs.

"Apologizes I did not intend to scare you" He chuckled. His eyes wandered back up to the book you had been struggling to obtain just a few fleeting moments ago. Slender fingers easily grabbed the hook and brought it down to your level.

"I believe this was what you were looking for correct" Malleus said with a slight amount of mischief lacing his words. You rolled your eyes and gently took the book from him.

"For a prince you sure are cheeky when you want to be huh" You mumbled. Now it was time for him to be startled . His green eyes shot open. You smirked at his expression. You tried to keep down the giggle that was going to erupt from your chest.

"I wasn't aware you spoke..." he mumbled suddenly the teasing Malleus disappeared. "Well speaking is very tiring do I don't do it much" you replied simply. He let out a hum and nodded his head.

"And my teasing behavior was enough for you to speak" he mumbled almost to himself. You giggled and rolled your eyes, gently flicking his arm. "Yes"

"I am truly honored that you decide to use your voice around myself" he dramatically said. You sighed and just smiled at his sincerity.

MASTERLIST

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euphorajeon · 9 months ago

Text

if it's a dream (i'll come around)

— request: jeongguk + yes or no - jungkook

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff

— word count: 3.1k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, best friend!jk, most likely inaccurate desc of new york, jk is still pining, jk orders food excessively (again), cliches (sorry)

— summary: something in the new york air makes jeongguk feel a rush: a rush to admit, a rush to tell, a rush to take a leap. he's just not sure whether you feel it too.

— author's note: it's finally here!! i'm sorry for taking so long to write this request. thank you areyousure!jeongguk for inspiring me to finish this request. hah. i hope you still enjoy!! (its unedited. maybe i'll come back someday to edit.)

a continuation of opposite of sun and light of the morning. please read the first two parts before reading this!

masterlist

Jeongguk never thought that it could be so hard to walk around New York.

There are people everywhere, going in a thousand different directions than him, and they walk so fast Jeongguk struggles to keep up even with his long legs. The shops he caught his eyes on were always full too, making him turn away from the door and look for other places that aren't so filled to the brim. Maybe he should’ve gone somewhere not as touristy as Times Square.

But above all, the hardest part of his stroll today is walking alongside you and having to feign nonchalance about it.

Jeongguk’s life as a singer doesn’t really allow him to have much free time, and even when he does, you either have work, class, or anything in between. As a result, the both of you can’t meet often. Jeongguk is so used to just seeing your face on his phone screen, talking to you via a video call connection, that seeing your form walking beside him throws him off balance.

It’s a good thing your face is mostly covered by the camera in your hands, otherwise Jeongguk would’ve spent the entire day with a blush dusting his cheeks just from holding eye contact with you.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

Jeongguk squints his eyes past the camera lens covering your face, searching for your eyes which are shaded by the faded black cap sitting on your head. You only respond with a shrug, gesturing towards the camera as if to remind Jeongguk of its existence. He sighs, lifting your cap with a finger so he can look at your eyes. “Bun.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me, you know?” you huff, trying to balance the device in your hand so Jeongguk’s face is still in frame. “I’m your cameraman for today, not your best friend.”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Camerawoman,” he corrects, “and who says I’m not allowed to talk to you? Do you think I talk to myself the entire time I’m filming vlogs like this?”

“Seems like it,” you say. “Sometimes they’re funny, but most of the time they just make me think ‘what even is he saying?’”

A slow grin spreads on Jeongguk’s face, his eyes still trained on you instead of the camera. When you look away from the small screen of the device in your hand, Jeongguk feels like his smile could split his face into two, and it must look bizarre on camera, but he doesn’t care. What he does care about is—

“You watch my vlogs?”

Suddenly, Jeongguk feels like he is not a popular singer with fans all over the world who tune in to his regular vlog updates, but just Jeon Jeongguk, a boy with a crush to impress. The way you unintentionally confirmed that you watch his vlogs makes him feel all giddy inside that it slipped his mind that you already said the same thing this morning in his hotel room.

Maybe this is what people mean when they say love makes one stupid.

“Only to see what other stupid shenanigans you do this time,” you mumble, dabbing around your face with the back of your free hand. It suspiciously looks like you’re trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, but Jeongguk immediately throws that thought away from his mind. It must be the New York heat that’s making your face hot like this.

“Just admit you enjoy seeing my face on your phone that much,” Jeongguk says cheekily, settling for a response that’s annoying, teasing, but familiar for the both of you. Maybe he’ll address the not-blush on the apple of your cheeks some other time.

“Where was this confidence about me watching your Times Square performance, huh?” You punch his shoulder lightly, which he’s sure makes the image of him on camera shake and blur. “Saying I ‘ghosted’ you because your performance is ‘bad’. What nonsense was that.”

“Hey, I was really worried about you, okay?” Jeongguk pouts. “Besides, I still need your opinion on my performances, whereas my vlogs are usually just me messing around. It’s different.”

Whatever response you have prepared in your mind gets interrupted by your phone ringing, which startles you so much you almost drop the camera from your hand. Good thing Jeongguk has fast reflexes, immediately enclosing his hands around yours before you could do any damage to the device. Upon checking the caller ID, your expression turns to one of worry.

Jeongguk takes the camera away from you. “Take the call,” he says. “I’ll just be here.”

While you step away to do just that, Jeongguk takes the opportunity to finally pay attention to the camera that he has been ignoring for the past few minutes, checking himself out on the small screen and running his fingers through his hair while holding eye contact with the lense. He goes on social media often enough to know that his fans will cut this specific clip from the vlog and fangirl over how good he looks while doing that.

Sometimes he wonders whether you see those clips and have the same reaction as his fans. Do you see them and scroll past them like they’re nothing? Do you scoff at his antics? Do you shake your head with a small laugh?

There’s also a possibility of you not even seeing those clips at all, but Jeongguk likes to think he’s popular enough that his clips can’t help but still end up in your feed. (Also, it hurts his little heart too much to imagine otherwise.)

You come back to him from your phone call with anxiety written all over your face. Jeongguk doesn’t even need to inquire before you squeak out your concern yourself.

“The deadline for my midterm paper has been moved. It’s now due in five hours. Jeongguk, what do I do?”

The both of you end up going back to Jeongguk’s hotel to fish out your brick-ass laptop from your gigantic backpack, the camera in his hands still recording. You’ve told him that he could continue exploring New York on his own, bringing the camera noona like the initial plan was, but Jeongguk insisted on coming with you instead. Why would he go with anyone else when you are here?

Still, though, because he doesn’t want to lose the sense of exploring a new place, he drags you to a dessert cafe near his hotel, offering to hold your laptop in his arms while you walk the short distance to the cafe. Despite your protests, Jeongguk manages to convince you to leave the camera on for the entirety of this laptop fiasco, capturing every moment from the laptop tug-of-war in Jeongguk’s hotel room to his grin in response to your sulking face when you’re both seated in the dessert cafe.

His video editor would hate him for this, but Jeongguk doesn’t care. You’re here, in New York with him, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his hardest to preserve any memories you make here.

“I don’t understand why you’d rather be stuck here with me than be out there exploring sunny New York in all its glory,” you huff while waiting for your laptop to turn on. It takes a while, Jeongguk notices, but your pout prevents him from saying anything about it. “What idiot has free time in New York and chooses to spend it cooped inside some random cafe?”

Jeongguk pretends to adjust the camera sitting on the table—angled in a way that it captures his face only—so he doesn’t have to look at your face when he says his next words: “Your idiot, Bun.”

You level him with a flat stare. “So you admit you’re an idiot.”

If it means being yours, sure, Jeongguk thinks. He really should stop thinking thoughts like these lest he blurt them out in front of you, on camera.

“I’m gonna order, what do you want, Bun?” Jeongguk asks as an attempt to steer the conversation away from idiots with feelings.

You look up from your (finally on) laptop screen with your head in your hands. “Anything except americano,” you mumble. “Thanks, Jeon.”

“Sure, Bun.” Jeongguk stands up from his seat, grabbing the camera to bring with him to the cashier. “You sure you don’t want anything else?”

The way you shake your head dejectedly is so uncharacteristic of you, given you’re both in a cafe filled with the smell of baked goods—something that usually brings a light of excitement into your eyes. Jeongguk can only imagine how stressful it is being a college student and having your midterm deadline be moved to hours earlier, and to experience all this while being jet lagged from a 14-hour flight prior surely doesn’t help.

Jeongguk has to physically hold himself from ducking down to engulf you in a hug, squeeze his arms around your frame until your frown is turned upside down and he can bear witness to your smile once again. For now, he can only wish that the cafe sells the type of bread you like so he can at least alleviate some of your burden with the sweet treat.

When he goes to the cashier to order, his polite smile is responded with a gasp from the cafe worker, clearly recognizing him as the popular singer. His smile turns into something more genuine—albeit a bit shy also—when the worker mentions that she’s a fan of his. After exchanging some pleasantries with her, Jeongguk proceeds to order. He just doesn’t realize how many desserts and pastries in the display case he’s pointed at until the worker asks him a question.

“Are you here with your crews?” she inquires, still tapping away at the computer screen in front of her. When Jeongguk only stares at her with wide eyes, she continues. “We can provide individual utensils for each of you if you’d like,” she offers.

Oh. Oh. Jeongguk thought she was asking for conversational purposes. “Uh, just two sets would be fine. Thank you.”

Still, it doesn’t register in his brain that he’s ordered too many pastries for two people until he’s coming back to your table with only both of your drinks on the tray in his hands. He sets your drink down next to your laptop, on which you’re typing furiously like you’re a madman chased by a tight deadline (in a way, you kind of are.)

Only when three cafe workers come back to back to your table to drop off his order of various kinds of desserts and pastries does he realize that he might have gone overboard with his order. Jeongguk can only flash a guilty smile your way when you tear your eyes away from your laptop to gape at the array of desserts in front of you.

“Are you trying to feed an entire village?” you ask incredulously.

“Hehe,” Jeongguk offers. “I was thinking about you and how you looked so stressed out because of your deadline and I just … ordered pretty much everything … for you.” He scratches his head sheepishly while setting the camera to its initial position on the corner of the table. He hopes the camera doesn’t pick up the way his cheeks blossom with heat. Or if it does, he hopes the editor cuts this part out.

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he imagines this part or not, but your eyes soften at his words and your next words are more gentle in tone. “Thank you, but there’s no way I would be able to finish all of these by myself.”

“Did you forget that you have Jeon Jeongguk for a best friend?” There’s a smug smirk on his face now, replacing the sheepish one he was sporting a few minutes ago. He likes it when you’re soft with him, vulnerable in a way only he’s allowed to see, but that’s exactly the problem: you’re both on camera, and whether or not this gets shared to the world, it’s still not as private as he would’ve liked. So he’s back on his annoying best friend persona to stop your vulnerable side from coming out.

You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a sliver of a smile on your lips.

The both of you spend the next few minutes enjoying your desserts and drinks, with Jeongguk cutting the desserts into bite-sized pieces so you can eat them with ease. He also does not forget his job as an entertainer, showing each and every one of the desserts to the camera and making sure his delightful hums are loud enough for the camera to pick up. He’s humming along to the song being played in the cafe while chewing when it suddenly plays an intro of a song he knows by heart—and judging from the way you look up from your laptop, you do too.

“Did they know you’re here?” The smile on your face is teasing.

“The cashier recognized me, said she’s a fan,” Jeongguk explains, turning his head in the direction of the cashier, trying to find the aforementioned worker. Upon making eye contact with her, Jeongguk mouths a thank you! with a smile, which she responds with a thumbs up.

“You must have made her day by coming here. Her whole week, even,” you chuckle, going back to typing on your laptop. The smile quickly drops from your face as you’re forced to go back to thinking mode for your midterm paper. Jeongguk nudges a fork full of pastry into your hand, silently asking you to eat.

“Then would you still say I’m an idiot for choosing to be here with you?”

Jeongguk said he’d leave this topic alone, revisit it later when he’s got the courage to do so, but what can he do? Your presence here with him makes him overwhelmed with feelings that sometimes it slips in between his words.

The only response he receives from you is silence. Jeongguk doesn’t know whether it’s because you didn’t want to respond or you simply just didn’t hear him. It’s most likely the latter as any attempt he makes to make you eat the desserts are useless as you’re too immersed in your paper. He ends up just feeding you bites after bites of desserts, grateful and giddy that you take them without protests as you’re typing.

As he’s cutting up more pastries for you to eat, the song changes to ‘Yes or No’, the fifth track on his latest album that he performed live two days ago at Times Square. He remembers you telling him that your friend, Yeseo, became a fan after listening to this song. Jeongguk tries to suppress a smile by biting his bottom lip as he listens to the lyrics of the song.

Are you feeling the rush?

Are we falling in love?

Say yes or no

In an interview, Jeongguk told the public that no songs from his album are based on his personal life, although he hopes he still delivered the messages of the songs well enough. What he doesn’t say, however, is that he thinks of you whenever he listens to or performs this song. It’s a song about a person in love and still wonders whether the other person is feeling the same way. Sometimes he wishes he could be honest and sing the words to you, pour out his feelings along the way, and he wishes you could feel the same way.

Jeongguk stops his activities of cutting desserts into bite-sized pieces and leans his back against his chair, staring at you. You’re still hyper-focused on your paper that you don’t notice his gaze, typing away on your laptop without a care for the love pouring out of his eyes.

Jeongguk knows you love him.

You love him enough to answer his video call at two am when you were studying. You love him enough to sacrifice sleep to watch his performance. You love him enough to book a flight to New York immediately after even though you still have a midterm paper to finish. You love him enough to walk around JFK with a heavy backpack hanging off your shoulders. You love him enough to join him exploring New York instead of resting off your jet lag.

But does that mean you love him enough to return his feelings the way he wants you to?

As he ponders the answer to that question, his hand moves on its own accord to continue feeding you the dessert he has cut up. You continue accepting the food he feeds you, and Jeongguk thinks maybe he needs to stop being selfish and just be content with whatever he has with you right now: friendship.

Although, in this moment, feeding you desserts while you do your paper, he feels like your college boyfriend he wished to be nights ago when you were a mere video on his phone. He already dresses the part—jeans and oversized hoodie—and feels the part, but that’s the thing about parts, isn’t it? That they’re not real, that they’re only there in his head.

You have cream on the corner of your lips from a particular big cut of dessert Jeongguk just fed you, and it feels like autopilot when he leans forward to swipe the cream off your lips with his thumb. He slots the thumb in between his own lips, sucking the cream clean off his skin. The innocent round of his eyes are met with the shocked round of yours, unblinking as you stare at the thumb previously on your lips, now on his.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

You shake your head. There’s an unmistakable crimson on the apple of your cheeks. “Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat. The blush on your face remains, and if Jeongguk’s sight serves him right, deepens instead. “Just, remember that you’re on camera the next time you want to do that.”

“So I can do it again if I turn off the camera?”

Jeongguk surprises himself by how steady he sounds. A tad too serious, too, and if he’s not careful, you might take it that he really wants to do it again, for real. His heart hammers in his chest as his hand inches towards the camera, fingers ready to turn the device off.

“Jeongguk,” you say slowly in a warning tone. “Namjoon will kill me if you try anything funny.”

Letting out his signature big grin, Jeongguk retracts his hand from the camera.

“Sorry, Bun. I’ll let you finish your paper in peace now.”

If you have cream on your lips again, maybe he’ll swipe it off with his lips instead. Maybe later, when he has the courage to. Maybe later, when he’s let you know how he really feels.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

a/n: thank you for reading! i still have 1 (one) more idea for this couple pair of bestfriends but not sure if i have the brain capacity to actually write it out ahaha let me know if you want to see more of them though :D

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #fanfic #fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts au #bts college au #jungkook college au #jungkook drabble #jungkook oneshot #jungkook au #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #idol!jungkook

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bitters-n-sweets · 1 month ago

Text

seize the moment — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader When a recurring patient returns to the ER after a medical scare, Robby is given another chance to finally ask her to stop running from what they yearned for

warnings: reader has a recurring illness that is unpredictable—i'm thinking epilepsy, but i have no history in medicine to fully dive in and accurately portray that in the fic, again, everything is googled. angst with happy ending. a/n: idk why writing robby is a challenge for me :)))) masterlist

[flashback]

"We can't do this, Robby," you say, "I can't do this to you."

"You're not doing anything, okay? I want to be here. With you."

"You don't know what you want!" You yell, "You have no idea, Robby. This will eat you alive—the anxiety, the worry, the helplessness—it will break you down, and you’ll hate me for it."

"And label me selfish," You bite back a sob, "but I really don't want you to hate me that way. Anyone but you. I'm sorry."

Robby didn't get a chance to say anything, you'd left him.

[present day]

Robby sighs, eyes dragging over the whiteboard. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but something feels off. The air’s heavy. His skin itches with a bad feeling he can’t shake.

Then the doors slam open.

"We’ve got a known seizure patient!" the EMT calls. "Post-ictal when we found her—had another in transit, two minutes, generalized. She’s still unconscious."

Robby’s head snaps up. He jogs toward the gurney—and stops cold.

"Fuck," he mutters, already moving again. "Trauma Five."

Dana catches sight of her. "Is it—?"

"Yeah," Robby breathes. "It’s her."

It's been four months since Robby last saw you. That last time, you’d had another episode, but he was buried in patients and never made it to your bedside before you were discharged. He knows you’ve been avoiding him — ever since you decided it was better to end things before either of you got in too deep.

Robby’s known you since his early years of residency. It was your first episode, and though he wasn’t the one to take your case, he sat beside you anyway — waited until you woke up, and offered you hospital pudding, the only decent food in the place. He didn’t know why he stayed, not really, but when your eyes finally opened and he saw how scared you were, unsure of where you were or what had happened, he was glad he had. And so were you.

You're stable. Vitals steady. There's nothing to worry about now — you just have to wake up. And Robby's been at your side the whole time, not moving an inch. He’s making sure you don’t slip away this time. Not again.

Robby sighs, his hand wrapped gently around yours. He remembers when the two of you first started flirting — how you used to call him the handsome doctor with sad eyes, and how he’d call you sweetheart. Because you were. Still are, at least to him.

There were moments when he nearly broke — when the weight of it all pressed too hard, when he couldn’t see the point, couldn’t see the light. He was ready to quit, ready to fuck all, walk out of this hellhole and never look back. But then he'd go to see you. And somehow, you were always there—willing to listen, to take in all his mess, his flaws.

Even with everything you were going through, you still smiled. Still lit up the room. You were his light. You still are.

Then Robby finally worked up the nerve to ask you out. Years later. You were—unfortunately—hospitalized again, but the silver lining was that it gave him the chance to ask if you’d be his girlfriend. You said yes, gleefully.

The two of you went on a few dates, sweet and slowly getting to know each other. But after a few months, reality started to sink in. You realized Robby couldn’t have a normal relationship with you. Your condition wouldn’t allow it — no roller coasters, no jump-scare horror movies, no late-night parties that bled into sunrise. None of the reckless, youthful things a guy his age was supposed to enjoy.

And Robby said he didn’t care. Said he didn’t mind missing out. But you’d heard him turn down one too many party invitations, brush off plans with friends like they were nothing.

You told him to go, insisted you were fine on your own. But he always chose you instead. Always.

You were grateful, truly. But the guilt sat heavy in your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if one day, he’d start to resent you for it.

That's when you broke up with him.

Robby lifts his head when he feels the faint twitch of your fingers. You’re stirring, slowly adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting as a groan escapes your throat.

"Hey," Robby calls out gently, "How are you feeling?"

You shift and can finally see who's hovering above you. The earthy, woody smell lets you know it's Robby right away. "Hey Robby."

"Hey sweetheart."

You want to scold him for calling you that, but you're still tired to do so.

"I'm here." He whispers.

And you look at him—really look at him—and wonder why he’s still doing this. Why he won’t let himself be happy. There are plenty of women out there who could give him everything he deserves. A simple life, a normal one. The kind that doesn’t come with unnecessary emergency room visits and fear tucked beneath every smile.

But he’s here. Still choosing you.

"You've been avoiding me."

"That, I have." You smile, guilty.

"And I'm still here for you. Always will."

"Robby—"

"Rest." He kisses your temple. "You're still recovering. We'll talk about this later."

You sigh as he steps out.

You're dischared a few hours later, and you try to sneak out without Robby catching you, but of course that's impossible.

As soon as you’re done changing and ease the door open, you bump right into a solid chest, and you hold your breath, knowing it's Robby. You don’t even have to look up to know his arms are crossed.

"Just gonna leave again?" He asks, visibly upset.

You wince and glance up at him, already forming some half-hearted excuse. "I didn’t want to make a scene."

"This isn’t a scene," he says. "This is me trying to talk to you. Something you’ve been avoiding for months."

You sigh and glance away, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. "Robby, don’t—"

"No. You don’t get to do that again," he cuts in, softer than you expect, but firm. "You don’t get to almost die, make me sit here all night thinking I’m going to lose you, and then walk out like none of it happened."

Your throat tightens. "It’s not fair to you."

"And you think just standing back, watching you go through this alone, not being able to hold you after—it’s somehow better?" His voice cracks. "You’re the reason I lose sleep, and the only thing that makes any of this feel worth it. That’s what you are to me."

You swallow hard, your gaze locked with his.

"Why won't you let yourself be happy?" Robby asks, and it hits you like a gut punch—for a second, you almost laugh at the irony.

You let out a breath. A long, shaky thing that trembles in your chest.

"It’s not that I don’t want to be happy," you say quietly. "I just… I don’t want you to end up hating me."

Robby flinches like the words hit harder than he expected.

You press on, voice barely holding steady. "People don’t stay. They try, at first. They say it doesn’t matter. That they can handle it. But then it gets hard—too hard. And they leave. And I get it, I really do. But I can’t watch you do that. I don’t think I’d survive it."

He’s silent for a moment, taking in everything you've said.

"I’m not them," he says. "I’ve seen what this looks like. The good days, the terrifying ones. I’ve been here for all of it. And I didn’t stay out of pity, or because I felt obligated—I stayed because I wanted to. Because I care about you in a way that doesn’t vanish when things get hard."

"So let me take care of you, okay?" His forehead nearly touches yours. "Let me be the one who’s there after nights like this. The one who holds you when it’s hard. I’m not here for the easy parts. I’m here for all of it."

"Are you sure?" Your eyes blur with tears, but you don’t look away. "Because I really don't want you to regret this—"

"Oh my god—"

Robby can't take it anymore and pulls you to him. The kiss is slow, making up for years of aching and near-misses. His hand cradles the back of your neck like you might vanish if he lets go, and you press closer, grounding yourself in him.

When you finally part, you're both a little breathless, foreheads touching.

"I’d rather fight for you than ever wonder what it would’ve been like to love you all the way."

#the pitt #robby robinavitch #dr robby #robby x reader #robby robinavitch x you #michael robby robinavitch #michael robinavitch #dr robby x reader #robby robinavitch x fem reader #robby x fem reader #robby x female reader #robby robinavitch angst #dr robby x you #dr robinavitch

476 notes · View notes

simplygojo · 9 months ago

Text

Gettin' A Full Service

author's note ⸺ Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!

pairing ⸺ Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x reader

word count ⸺ 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)

content ⸺ 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (reader receiving), intercourse, dirty sex, choking, pet names (pretty girl), fingering, slight overstimulation, mndi, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || discord channel

^^ art by @actuallyvalerie

The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro.

He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.

The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded.

A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work.

His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…

The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.

Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.

Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing.

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”

Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”

You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”

You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”

His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”

You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”

Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again.

After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”

Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”

You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”

He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.

“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”

You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air.

You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him.

You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.

"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.

Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby."

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.

"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.

Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken.

His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.

"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."

You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."

Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side.

He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.

"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"

He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.

"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."

"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.

Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."

Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.

"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you.

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies.

He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.

"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."

You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."

For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine.

But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.

Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”

His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded.

He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken.

The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.

Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.

“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”

Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have.

But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.

“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.

Maybe both.

But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.

The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.

You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.

“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.

“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.

“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.

His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.

You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.

Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.

You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.

Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.

Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.

Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.

His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin.

There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension.

Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.

“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”

The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy.

You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.

His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you.

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.

The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”

Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands.

The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.

Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Such a pretty sight.”

He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan.

Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.

You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.

“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.

Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you.

You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch.

He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.

“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.

Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake.

He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.

Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.

Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”

It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.

“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need.

He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it.

But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.

Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly.

He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.

Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again.

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.

Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.

“So pretty, all spread out for me.”

Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,

“Please, Toji…”

He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.

“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”

You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.

“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.

“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.

Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly.

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you.

Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.

Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.

“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him.

Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.

The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge.

Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you.

Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.

Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.

"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...

He wasn’t done with you yet.

1K notes · View notes

inkedinshadows · 11 months ago

Text

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #sjm #azriel × reader #fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel spymaster #azriel smut #azriel fluff #one bed trope #shadowsinger

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stylesispunk · 4 months ago

Text

Blind faith | part ii

priest! Joel miller x night club dancer!reader

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter |

summary: Priest Joel feels a strong need to get to know you better and help you, soon he would end up finding out more of you than he thought.

wc: 8,4k (i think)

warnings: age gap (joel is in his late 40s and reader last 20s), angst, fluff, mutual pining, women being misogynist towards reader, forbidden relationship. All topics will be addressed with all the respect.

a/n: The picture of him smoking was for a scene when reader finds him smoking, hidden behind the church but i forgot to write it I'm sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I've had a thousand of intrusive thoughts and no time to think. I hope you like this one and how is being built. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated. Happy reading! 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

In the warm sunny spring of May when the night met the dark and lights reflected on the streets bustled with kids playing and families enjoyed meals. Joel was thinking about you. The cold had been replaced by the warmth irradiating from your smiled when you passed by, the way you spoke to him.

The cold had left him on May 3rd, the night you walked into town with the kind of presence that made people take a second look without knowing why. Since then, things had shifted in ways Joel hadn’t expected.

He felt it now, watching the world outside from the steps of the church. The night was warm, carrying the scent of fresh bread from the bakery down the street. Laughter echoed as children played in the dim glow of streetlights, their voices mixing with the low murmur of families gathered at restaurants.

But Joel wasn’t thinking about any of them. He was thinking about you.

Again, and again.

He caught himself doing that more than he should. Thinking about the way your smile softened the sharp edges of this town. The way you spoke to him—teasing, light, but never unkind. You had a way of making silence feel like something shared instead of something empty.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t let his mind wander to you the way it did. Shouldn’t let himself anticipate the moment he’d see you again, even if it was just in passing.

But it was too late for that, wasn’t it?

Because two weeks had passed, and somewhere along the way, he had stopped feeling cold.

Joel stepped out of the Langdons’ house, nodding his thanks as Mrs. Langdon insisted, as always, that he take some leftovers home. He tucked the small bundle of bread and stew under his arm, offering her husband a firm handshake before stepping out into the warm May night.

Every Friday was the same—dinner at the Langdons'. Their children had all gone off to college, and the quiet of their home had settled into something heavy. He wasn’t sure if it was duty or habit that kept him coming back, but he knew what loneliness looked like, and he could never turn away from it.

The streets were lively tonight. Laughter spilled from open windows, the scent of grilled meat from the food stalls blending with the floral perfume of spring. Joel walked the familiar path home, nodding at those who greeted him. He offered quiet blessings to the older folks who still stopped to ask for them, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries as he always did.

Then he reached The Paradise.

Joel never lingered near that place. The club sat at the edge of town like it had been dropped there by mistake, neon lights flickering against the darkened street. Tonight, it was more crowded than he’d ever seen. People lined up outside, men and women laughing, their faces half-lit by the pink glow of the sign above the door.

He tried not to judge. He really tried. But that place—it didn’t belong here. Not in a town where everything else was measured and quiet, where folks prided themselves on tradition. And yet, it stood, thriving in the shadows of the life he knew.

Joel kept walking, pushing it from his mind.

Then he thought about you.

You hadn’t come by the church in three days. He told himself it wasn’t strange. You were new in town, surely busy settling in. Maybe you had no reason to stop by.

But the thought sat heavy in his chest. Where were you now? Were you sleeping well? Joel shook his head. No. It wasn’t his place to wonder. It wasn’t his place to care.

And yet, as he turned onto his street, the question lingered in his head.

At Sunday, Joel stood in the pulpit, his voice echoing through the church with measure in his words. The warmth sunlight filtered through the glass windows, painting soft color along the wooden benches where people sat on. It was a beautiful morning, the church was full of families gathering, elders sitting in their usual spot, and children sitting beside their parents.

His preaching was about peace, about opening their hearts to love, forgiveness, to the unexpected kindness the world could offer to us when we pay attention.

"And sometimes," Joel preached, his gaze sweeping over the congregation, and people "beautiful things come when we least expect them. When we stop fighting, when we stop closing ourselves off… we find grace in the most unlikely places, like sunlight bathing our faces in a cold a day."

He had meant it as a general message, something for people to take home, to reflect on. But the moment the words left his lips; his breath came in short.

The moment you walked in.

The church doors let in a slant of golden morning light, and in the middle of it, there you were. It was almost cruel, the way you looked in that moment, how you fitted to his own words, like the light itself had been waiting to land on your skin. His breath hitched, his fingers tightening against the pulpit.

You scanned the room, looking for a seat, completely unaware of the way his entire body had gone still. When you finally settled in a pew at the back, he forced himself to swallow, to look away, to breathe.

The sight of you, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, framed by the high arch of the

Joel took a slow breath.

Joel had led countless sermons before, stood in front of his congregation so many times he could do it with his eyes closed. But now? Now, every word felt like it was meant for you.

“Beautiful things,” he said, his voice quieter now, rougher, “they come when you least expect them. They show up in places you never thought to look. And sometimes… sometimes, they scare us. Because letting them in means changing something in ourselves.”

Your eyes met his. Joel’s grip on the pulpit tightened.

You held his gaze, unmoving, unblinking, like you knew, like you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

He exhaled slowly.

“And when they come,” he murmured, the weight of you pressing against his chest from across the room, “it’s up to us whether we let them stay.”

The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle of people’s steps, the quiet shifting of bodies in the pews. But Joel only saw you.

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers clutching at the hem of your dress, and the air between you felt charged, thick with something unsaid. His heart slammed against his ribs, and he knew, he knew, you understood what he meant.

He forced himself to finish the sermon, though the words blurred together, though his mouth felt dry. When it was over, he lingered longer than usual, shaking hands, nodding along to pleasantries, but his mind was elsewhere. It was on you.

Who was there, standing by the door, waiting.

He gathered all his courage, to go and find you outside, standing near the side of the church, your arms wrapped around yourself, as if bracing against the warmth of the sun. You didn’t look at him right away, but when you did, your expression was kind.

“That was a nice sermon,” you murmured when he stood, I front of you.

Joel huffed out something like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “You think so?”

You nodded, but your gaze was unreadable, cutting through him in a way that made his stomach tighten. “I think you were talking about me.”

He swallowed. “Maybe.”

You let out a breath, slow and measured, before stepping closer, close enough that he could see the gold flecks in your eyes, close enough that he caught the faintest hint of something sweet on your skin.

“Thank you, for trying to be kind and spread it” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Joel searched your face, his jaw tightening, like he was fighting something within himself. The way you looked at him, it made him uneasy, like you could see right through him. Like you could see the way he was holding himself back.

He exhaled sharply, glancing around to make sure no one was lingering before lowering his voice. “Do you wanna talk?”

Your brows lifted slightly, like you hadn’t expected it.

“Talk?” you repeated, almost testing the word, rolling it over your tongue.

Joel shifted on his feet. “Yeah. If you want.”

You hesitated, but only for a moment before nodding, laughing a bit “I actually came here to talk to you. I’m just nervous about people on here.”

“Why?” He asked

“I don’t belong here and I can feel it.”

“You belong where I am as long as you need” He reassured, looking at you with the kindness you were craving for weeks.

“Thank you, father.” you replied, smiling shyly at him.

“Do you want to come inside?”

You nodded.

Joel signaled towards the door, letting you step inside first. The church was quiet now, emptied of its congregation, save for the lingering scent of incense and the dim glow of candles flickering near the altar.

You walked slowly down the aisle, your footsteps echoing in the vast space. The glass windows painted soft colors onto the worn pews that you hadn’t noticed before, casting patterns of blues and golds across the floor.

Joel watched as you moved, your fingers ghosting over the smooth wood of the benches, your gaze lifting toward the high ceiling. There was something in your expression, something lost, something looking for an answer.

“Have you ever prayed before?” he asked, his voice quiet in the stillness.

You turned slightly, your eyes meeting his. “I haven’t. Not in a long time, at least.”

He nodded, stepping closer, his presence warm, grounding. “You don’t have to do it now if you don’t want to.”

You exhaled softly, looking away. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”

Joel tilted his head. “Then don’t say anything.”

You swallowed, pressing your lips together, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto a pew, your hands clasped in your lap. Joel sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his warmth but not touching.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

“Are you gonna tell me why you ended up here?” He asked.

You stiffed slightly, “I can’t tell you that.”

Joel studied you for a moment, his gaze steady but unreadable. He didn’t push; didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly against the pew.

"Alright," he murmured. "I won’t ask."

You turned your head toward him, surprised by his easy acceptance. You had been waiting for more questions, for suspicion, for doubt. Instead, you were met with something else entirely, understanding.

"You’re not curious?" you asked, voice quieter now.

Joel’s fingers drummed lightly against his knee before he sighed. "‘Course I am. But if you ain’t ready, you ain’t ready."

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your hands. No one had ever let you keep your secrets without demanding something in return.

For a moment, the only sound in the church was the faint crackle of the candles burning near the altar.

Then, hesitantly, you spoke. "It’s not that I don’t want to tell you."

Joel turned his head slightly, waiting.

You inhaled, steadying yourself. "It’s just… if I say it out loud, it makes it real and I don’t want you to be tangled in my mess, you don’t deserve it."

Joel’s jaw clenched, something flickering in his expression. His voice was lower when he finally answered, rough around the edges.

"It’s already real, darling."

Your breath caught. It has been a really long time since someone had called you “Darling” and the way the nickname had come out his lips made it feel softer, more real.

You turned to face him fully now, heart pounding just a little too hard in your chest. "Father…"

He held your gaze, and for the first time since you had met, he looked like he was fighting something strong, something he wasn’t sure he should want.

And then, just as quickly as the moment came, he looked away.

"You are not gonna tell me, ”He murmured. "Just know that if you ever do… I’ll listen."

Your throat tightened, the warmth in your chest warring with the fear still tangled around your ribs.

"Okay, thank you" you whispered.

And for now, that was enough.

Joel hesitated only for a second before he reached out, offering you his hand.

You stared at it, his rough, calloused fingers, inviting you to hold it. For a moment, you didn’t move. Then, slowly, you placed your hand in his.

Warm. Solid. Protective.

Your fingers curled slightly around his, and Joel squeezed, just once, gentle and grounding, like he was telling you that he meant what he said. That he’d listen, that he’d be there.

The weight in your chest didn’t feel so heavy anymore. You felt light as a feather, and safe.

But then, the sound of the church doors creaking open shattered the moment.

Joel let go of your hand instantly, straightening, his expression shifting into something unreadable as footsteps echoed down the aisle.

A woman dressed in a modest blue dress, dark hair pinned neatly back, and the look in her eyes as she saw you sent a chill down your spine.

Her gaze flicked between you and Joel before she spoke, her voice tight. "Father Miller."

You recognized her. You’d seen her in town before, always watching, always whispering with the others when you passed.

Joel stiffened beside you. "Miss Elizabeth."

She barely acknowledged him before turning her sharp gaze to you. "You should go; I want to talk to the father privately. " she said flatly.

Something hot curled in your stomach, shame and sadness hitting at once.

"I was just leaving," you bit out, standing. You didn’t look at Joel as you stepped past him, willing your face to stay unreadable, unwilling to let this woman see how easily she could cut you down.

But just as you reached the door, you heard her voice again.

"You shouldn’t let her stay around you, Father," Evelyn said, her tone full of quiet disapproval. "She’s a bad influence."

Your breath hitched. You pushed the church doors open, stepping into the cool evening air. Your breath was unsteady, your pulse thrumming with anger, with hurt. You shouldn’t have let it get to you. You knew what people thought, what they whispered when they saw you. But hearing it out loud, hearing it in his presence, it stung more than you wanted to admit.

You didn’t know why, but what the priest thought about you was important.

Inside the church, Evelyn watched you go, her lips pressed into a thin line before she turned back to Joel.

Joel exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening. "That so?" he pressed.

Evelyn nodded, stepping closer. "We all see it. You see it too. She doesn’t belong here. She is sin."

Joel’s fingers curled against the wooden pew. His shoulders were tense, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he considered his next words.

"Think that’s for me to decide," he said, his voice steady, but there was anger beneath it. “You cannot come to a church and preach bad things about someone. That’s sin.”

Evelyn scoffed, unimpressed. "I only hope you don’t regret it."

“What?”

“When she ruined the reputation, you hold on this place.” She warned.

Joel didn’t answer. He just watched the space you had left, sitting as a void on his heart.

“I have no reputation to keep on. I’m simply a priest, I offer help and guidance to people, so if you came here to spread bad words on someone, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

Evelyn’s expression hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m only looking out for you, Father. And for this town.”

Joel’s jaw tensed, his patience wearing thin. “You look out for yourself, Evelyn. I’ll look after the people who need it.”

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “People talk, Joel. They see the way you look at her.”

His chest tightened. “Then they should mind their own business.”

Evelyn’s mouth parted slightly, as if she wasn’t expecting him to be so blunt. But she recovered quickly, straightening her spine. “Suit yourself,” she muttered before turning on her heel and striding out of the church.

The heavy doors groaned as they shut behind her, leaving Joel in silence. But he didn’t feel peaceful. He felt rage.

His fists curled against his sides, his pulse still thrumming from the conversation, from the way Evelyn had spat those words like they were undeniable truths. Like he didn’t know what was best for himself.

And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to know it.

Joel exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face, cursing. He couldn’t let you to carry the whispers alone.

Later, at night you were nursing a cup of tea, trying to erase the memories and the twisting feeling inside your stomach. The truth was that you weren’t used to this, to be point out all the time or to receive glance and stares as if you were a witch waiting to be eliminated.

Without even wanting, your mind drifted to the priest, Joel. To his kindness, to his scent, or the warmth touch of his hands fitting yours. You smiled a bit at the memory, not even knowing why it was so special.

You noticed Carmen adjusting her dress in the small mirror by the door, smoothing the fabric over her hips before reaching for her earrings. The dim light of the house cast shadows on the walls, the air full with the scent of her perfume.

“You know,” she mused, glancing at you with a smirk, “ever since you got here, the club’s been busier.”

You looked up from where you sat on the worn-out couch, your arms wrapped around your knees. “What do you mean?”

Carmen chuckled, slipping her earrings on. “Men are curious creatures. They see something new, something mysterious, and they can’t help themselves.” She gave you a knowing look. “Some of them come just hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t like that idea at all “I don’t—”

“I’m not saying you did anything.” She waved a hand. “You barely speak to them, barely even look at them. And that’s what makes them even more interested.”

You swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s not a thing I feel proud of.”

Carmen shrugged, grabbing her shawl. “It’s business. And business is good.” She studied you for a moment before softening. “Look, I know you don’t love this place, but you have a way of drawing people in, chiquita.”

You exhaled, rubbing at your arms. “That’s not what I want.”

Carmen sighed, walking over and perching on the arm of the couch beside you. “Then what do you want?”

You hesitated. If you had been asked that question a few weeks ago, the answer would have been simple. You wanted to dance. You wanted to teach. You wanted a quiet, normal life, away from the danger.

Now? Now, you didn’t know.

Carmen must have seen the struggle on your face because she reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to stay here forever, you know.”

You blinked up at her. “Then why does it feel like I do?”

She sighed, squeezing your shoulder before standing up. “Because you haven’t figured out where else you want to be.”

You sat there, watching her drape her shawl over her shoulders, watching as she gave herself one last glance in the mirror before heading toward the door.

“I’ll be back late,” she called over her shoulder. “Get some rest.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a date!” She told, opening the door, and then she was gone.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against your chest. You sat there for a long moment before finally pushing yourself up, grabbing your coat, and stepping out into the fresh night.

You needed air. You needed to think. You need to dismiss the longing feeling settled on your chest.

And before you even realized where your feet had carried you, you were standing at the street corner. You caressed your arms to keep yourself warm form the chilly cold air of the night, as you walked to the public telephone stood at the corner of the street, its metal surface cool against your fingers as you picked up the receiver and fed in the coins with shaking hands.

The dial tone buzzed in your ear, and then—

"Hola?"

Your chest tightened with sadness at the familiar voice. “Mateo,” you breathed.

"Hermana.” (sister) Relief laced his voice. “¿Dónde has estado? ¿Estás bien? (Where have you been? Are you okay?)

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Lo sé..Yo…” (I know…I-) You hesitated, your eyes darting around the empty street. “¿Cómo están las cosas? ¿Cómo está mi mamá y mi papá? (How are things going? How are mom and dad?)

There was silence on the other end, then a heavy sigh. "Preguntando por ti cada día. Están preocupados.” (They ask for you every day. They’re worried about you)

Guilt curled in your stomach. “Estoy bien, te lo juro.” (I swear I’m fine)

"¿Segura?” (Are you sure?) Mateo’s voice was softer now, filled with something you didn’t want to name. "Suenas diferente.” (You sounds different)

You exhaled, closing your eyes for a moment. “Es obvio que lo estoy, mateo.” (That’s obvious, Mateo) Your grip on the phone tightened. “No puedo ir a casa, ¿Cómo crees que me siento?” (I can’t go back home, How do you think that makes me feel?)

Because you had nothing to return to. Because the life you had before was gone.

Mateo sighed "¿Estás Segura que estás bien?" (Are you sure you’re okay?)

“¿Siguen buscándome?” you asked. (Are they still looking for me?)

Silence stretched between you both, thick with things left unsaid. “Vinieron a casa hace unos días” (They came home a few days ago)

Your throat tightened. “¿Encontraron algo?” (Did the find something?)

“No” he replied, “No hay rastro de ti.” (No, there´s no trace of you)

You hesitated before whispering, “Te extraño.” (I miss you)

"Yo también, hermana” (I miss you too, sister)

The line went dead. You stood there for a moment, the receiver still pressed to your ear, as if you could will his voice back. You hang up the phone with force.

“Damn it!”

Joel had been walking back from the church, his mind tangled in thoughts he didn't want to face. The night air was cool against his skin, the quiet hum of the town settling into its usual lull. He didn’t expect to see you.

At least not like this.

He slowed when he caught sight of you by the public telephone, shoulders hunched, one hand still gripping the receiver like you wanted to crush it. Even from a distance, he could tell something was wrong.

Then you hung up the phone, hard, the sound of plastic smacking against metal sharp in the empty street.

“Damn it,” you hissed again, under your breath, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes.

Joel hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. “You alright?”

You startled slightly, turning to look at him, eyes glassy, lips parted as if you wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Joel took in the sight of you—the way your face was drawn tight, the way your hands trembled at your sides. Something twisted deep in his chest.

“Hey,” he said, softer this time, “what happened?”

You shook your head quickly, taking a step back as if trying to put space between you and the concern in his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Joel’s gaze flickered to the telephone, “Don’t look like nothing.”

You wiped at your eyes, like that could erase the evidence of your tears. “I just—” You swallowed hard, glancing away. “I was talking to my brother.”

Joel frowned, watching the way your jaw tightened, the way your fingers clenched at your sides.

“Do you have a brother?”

You let out a hollow laugh, nodding your head. “Yes,” You exhaled sharply, wrapping your arms around yourself. “He just reminds me how much I miss him and I can’t go back.”

Joel felt something in his chest pull at that.

He took a step closer to you, closing the space between you.

“You are not alone,” he said quietly.

You blinked up at him, your expression unreadable. “I’m pretty much I am”

Joel exhaled, then, without thinking, without second-guessing, he reached out for you.

His fingers brushed over your elbow first, just the faintest touch, before he slid his hand down, wrapping around yours.

You didn’t pull away.

Instead, your fingers tightened around his, just enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, the way you were holding onto him like you weren’t sure if you should—but you needed to.

And maybe he needed to, too.

“Come on” he murmured. “Let’s get you something warm.”

For a moment, you just looked at him in awe, then, slowly, you nodded.

Joel didn’t let go of your hand as he led you away from the phone booth, his grip firm but gentle, like he wasn’t about to let you disappear into the night.

The town was quiet this late, the streets empty except for the occasional glow of a porch light. The fresh night air bit at your skin, but Joel’s warmth beside you made it bearable.

His house wasn’t far. A modest place, tucked behind a small white picket fence, next to the church, the porch light flickering softly. He pushed open the front door, stepping aside to let you in first.

Inside, it smelled like vanilla and something faintly familiar, leather, soap, a trace of coffee lingering in the air. It was tidy but lived-in, books stacked on a side table, a jacket slung over a chair. The kind of place that felt like it had roots.

Joel shut the door behind you, locking it out of habit.

“You sit,” he murmured, nodding toward the couch. “I’ll make you some tea.”

You hesitated for a second before sinking onto the couch, your hands still curled into fists in your lap. You felt exposed. Like if he asked the right question, everything would spill out.

Joel disappeared into the kitchen, and you listened to the quiet clatter of cups, the whistle of the kettle warming up. It was strangely intimate, this moment. Like you belonged here. Like he wanted you here.

He returned after a moment, two mugs in his hands. He passed one to you before lowering himself onto the couch beside you, close but not too close.

“Hope chamomile’s alright,” he said. “Don’t got much else. I have to buy groceries.”

You wrapped your hands around the warmth of the cup, staring down into the steam. “Chamomile’s good.”

Joel hummed, watching you. You could feel his gaze on you, like he was waiting for you to say something.

Instead, you lifted the cup and took a sip. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing the tightness that had been there all night.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?” His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of something else. Something protective.

You exhaled, staring down into your tea. And then, in the quiet of Joel’s home, in the safety of his presence, you whispered—

“I don’t feel like it yet” you said.

Joel didn’t push, just nodded, leaning back against the couch with his own mug in hand. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt steady. Like you didn’t have to fill it with words just to be understood.

The tea warmed your hands, and for the first time in what felt like days, you didn’t feel like you had to keep your guard up.

Joel watched you for a moment, then exhaled softly. “Alright,” he said. “If you change your mind, there’s food in the kitchen.”

You nodded, taking another slow sip.

“You can stay as long as you need,” he added. His voice was softer now, carrying something else beneath it. Something unspoken.

You swallowed. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Joel let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “You’re not.”

Your chest tightened at that. At the quiet conviction in his voice. You glanced at him, finding his gaze already on you, steady and unwavering. You opened your mouth, then closed it, unsure of what you even wanted to say.

Instead, you just nodded again, gripping your mug a little tighter.

Joel didn’t push. He just sat there, sipping his tea, letting the night settle around you both.

Joel took another slow sip of his tea before setting the cup down on the table. His voice was quiet when he spoke again.

“What was it like? When you were a kid?”

You blinked, surprised by the question. “Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “Figured it might be nice to talk about something else.”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the warm mug, but then you sighed, letting your shoulders relax just a little.

“I used to climb trees,” you admitted after a moment. “There was this big one near our house. My brother and I would spend hours up there, making up stories, pretending we were somewhere else.” A soft smile tugged at your lips, the memory warming something deep inside you. “My mom used to scold me for coming home with dirt all over my clothes.”

Joel chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Bet you gave her hell.”

You laughed softly. “I did.”

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “And your best memory?”

You thought about it, searching through years of moments before settling on one. “Oh, I remember my dad took me to the ocean once. Just him and me. It was the first time I ever saw it. I remember how endless it felt, how small I was standing next to it.” You swallowed, fingers tracing the rim of your cup. “It was the first time I really felt there was a world beyond my home.”

Joel nodded, like he understood that feeling more than you realized.

“What about you?” you asked. “What was your childhood like?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Simple, I guess. Spent most of it in Texas, running around with my brother. We’d get into all kinds of trouble, nothing too bad, but enough to keep our mom on edge.” A fond look crossed his face. “She worked hard. Did her best to raise us right.”

You tilted your head. “And when did you decide to become a priest?”

Joel exhaled slowly, like he’d been expecting the question but still needed a moment to gather his thoughts. “Took me a long time,” he admitted. “Wasn’t always on this path. But after losing some people I cared about… I guess I needed something to hold onto. Something to believe in.”

You studied him, the flickering candlelight on his center table casting soft shadows over his face. There was something heavy in his voice, a weight he carried that you didn’t dare press into.

You hummed softly, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Sounds like you were looking for some peace.”

Joel glanced at you; his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. I guess I was.”

A comfortable silence settled between you. The warmth of the tea, the dim glow of the room, the safety around Joel’s presence was all too much, too soothing for you. It didn’t take you so much time for your eyelids grew heavier, and before you realized it, your head had dipped onto his shoulder.

Your face was softened in the dim glow of the room, free of the tension that had been clinging to you all night. Your breathing was steady, your lips slightly parted, your lashes resting gently against your cheeks.

Joel swallowed hard. His heart felt heavy with something towards you.

He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. Shouldn’t be feeling the warmth of you against him like it was something sacred, something meant for him. But he couldn’t stop.

Carefully, he shifted, reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. He hesitated, watching the way a strand of hair had fallen over your face, the way your fingers twitched slightly in sleep. Then, with a slow movement, he pulled the blanket over you, tucking it carefully around your shoulders.

Still, he didn’t move away. His eyes traced your features, the soft curve of your cheek, the way your lashes fluttered briefly like you were dreaming. He wondered what kind of dreams you had. If they were peaceful. If they ever brought you the comfort you seemed to be searching for.

Joel exhaled, a long, quiet breath. He knew he should get up. Should put some distance between you. But instead, he stayed and his exhaustion eventually crept in. The steady rhythm of your breathing beside him pulled him under like a tide.

His head tilted slightly, his body instinctively leaning toward yours. His shoulder pressed more firmly against you, the weight of you grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep. Joel didn’t dream of regret, or of things lost.

Instead, he dreamed of warmth. Of something soft, something that smelled faintly sweet. Something that, for the first time in forever, didn’t feel so far out of reach.

The morning came too soon, with light filtering softly through the curtains, making you stir first, shifting slightly, only to realize you were pressed against someone.

Joel.

His arms were wrapped around you, one draped loosely over your waist, the other resting near your shoulder. His breathing was deep and steady, his body relaxed in a way you’d never seen before.

Your heart pounded as you stayed still, unsure of what to do. But the moment stretched too long, and eventually, Joel shifted, a low hum escaping his throat as he woke.

His grip on you tightened instinctively before realization dawned. His breath hitched. Slowly, he pulled back, his arms withdrawing as if burned. His eyes met yours, still heavy with sleep but now filled with something else, something hesitant and vulnerable.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough, laced with something softer beneath.

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Morning.”

Neither of you moved. Neither of you looked away.

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the warmth that still clung to your skin, of the way Joel was looking at you, like he wasn’t sure if he should apologize or pull you closer or even touch fire.

“I should get going,” you murmured, your voice quieter than you intended.

Joel’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just studied you, like he was trying to memorize something. Then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah… yeah, you should.”

You sat up slowly, letting the blanket slip from your shoulders. The absence of his warmth made the morning chill settle deeper into your bones.

Joel rubbed the back of his neck, still watching you. “You—uh—need me to walk you back?”

You shook your head. “I’ll be fine.”

But neither of you moved.

Joel’s fingers tapped against his knee, restless. “Did you sleep, okay?”

You nodded, offering the smallest of smiles. “Yeah. Better than I have in a while.”

Something flickered in his expression, something almost like relief. He exhaled through his nose, then stood, running a hand through his hair. “Good.”

You forced yourself to move, to put distance between you both before you did something reckless. Like staying. Like telling him how safe you felt with him around.

You reached the door, hesitating with your hand on the knob. You glanced back at him, at the way he was still standing there, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You offered a quiet, “See you around, father.”

“Joel” he said, “Just call me by my name.”

You froze for a moment, your hand still on the door, the weight of his words sinking into you. Just call me by my name.

It was simple, but it felt like a shift, like something important was happening without either of you fully understanding it.

You nodded slowly, the softest of smiles curving your lips. “Okay. See you around, Joel.”

His gaze softened, just a little, but you could see the conflict in his eyes, the same conflict that had been there since the first day you'd met. It was like he was trying to find a way to make things simpler, even though neither of you were sure how.

You opened the door, stepping out into the morning, but for a moment, you stood there, just outside, with your back to him. The silence between you stretched, and in the stillness, you almost expected him to call out to you.

But he didn’t.

You swallowed and took a step away, then another. Each step felt heavier than the last. You didn’t want to go. But you knew you had to.

And Joel? How could he even stop thinking about you when you had turned this town technicolor after ages of scarlet rusting maroon. How he could even stop thinking about the way your eyes wrinkled when you smiled, how they shone under the lights, or how you felt against his chest?

You had turned his life upside down the moment he saw you there, sleeping the church pew. You had settled a warm feeling on his chest, stuck there strangling his heart in a way he feared. He hadn’t felt like this before your orbit crashed into his.

Joel sat quietly in the church, his hands clasped in his lap, his gaze fixed on the altar. He couldn’t help but think about you, how you had walked out of his house that morning, and how your absence already felt like a quiet ache in the pit of his chest.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft murmur of voices coming from the entrance. A group of ladies from the town had entered, their soft footsteps echoing in the vast space. They gathered near the back, speaking in low tones. Joel, still lost in his thoughts, didn’t immediately notice them approaching.

One of the women, Evelyn, caught his attention first. Her eyes were sharp, her smile polite but lacking warmth. She was one of the more outspoken people in the town—always quick to comment on matters she found troubling.

“Father Joel,” she called out, her voice cutting through the quiet.

He turned toward them, nodding in greeting. “Good morning, Evelyn. Ladies, How are you today?”

Evelyn gave a tight smile, but there was something in her eyes that made Joel wary. She wasn’t here for a casual conversation.

“We’re doing well, Father. Just came to see you,” she said, her gaze flickering briefly to the side before returning to him. “I heard something troubling... about you spending time with that girl.” Her tone was deliberate, like she wanted to plant a seed of doubt.

Joel’s stomach tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“The new girl in town,” Evelyn continued, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “You know, the one who came in from out of nowhere. We’ve all seen the way she’s been acting, and we’re concerned, Father. You’ve always been such a pillar in this community... we don’t want to see you caught up in anything... inappropriate.”

The words hit him like a cold gust of wind, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he stared at her, his jaw clenched. “She’s a member of this town now,” he said, his voice firm, but controlled. “She’s just as much a part of this community as anyone else, and she deserves kindness and support, just like everyone else.”

Evelyn’s smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her voice laced with venom. “Of course, Father. But kindness and support don’t always mean turning a blind eye to things that don’t belong. We just want to make sure you're not... getting too close to someone who might cause trouble for you.”

The group of women exchanged glances, their murmurs growing louder now, but Joel didn’t care. He could feel the sting of their judgment, but he wasn’t about to let it change him. Not today. Not after everything he’d felt in the past few days.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking at them.

“Do you know the reason why there are so many people going to that club? The paradise?” Evely asked, testing the waters. “It’s her! She dances there, she is seducing men and perhaps women too, who knows?”

Joel's body stiffened at the words, a cold wave of anger sweeping through him, but he kept his face neutral, not allowing them the satisfaction of seeing how deeply their accusations cut. The audacity of the women to come into his sacred space, spreading lies about you.

"That’s a serious accusation," he said, his voice dangerously calm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at Evelyn. "And it's based on nothing but rumors and gossip."

Evelyn smirked, clearly pleased by the effect her words had. "Rumors? You know as well as we do that the truth isn’t always so clean. She came here from nowhere, and now look—more men are visiting the club than ever before. It's obvious. You might be blind to it, Father, but we're not."

Joel took a deep breath, willing himself to remain composed, but inside, he was seething. He could feel the lies curling around his chest, suffocating him. How dare they accuse you like that, especially when they had no idea what you were going through? He had seen you at your lowest, and not once had he seen any evidence of the things they claimed.

"What you’re saying is based on assumptions," Joel replied evenly. "You don’t know her. You don’t know what she’s been through. And as for what happens in the club, it’s not for any of you to judge." He took a step forward, his voice rising slightly, but still under control. "I will not stand here and listen to these baseless accusations. You know nothing of her, and you certainly know nothing about me."

The women were silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Evelyn’s smile slipped, but she quickly recovered, trying to keep control of the conversation. "We’re just worried, Father. We want what’s best for you. We care about you."

Joel didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t bring himself to care about their concern when they were so willing to tear down someone he had come to care for. Instead, he stood his ground, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them.

��I don’t need you to protect me,” he said finally, his voice firm. “And I don’t need you to make decisions about who I spend time with. I will not be part of any of this. If you want to continue to talk about people behind their backs, you can do it without me.”

Without waiting for another word, he turned and walked away from them, his footsteps echoing through the church. He didn't look back as he left, the sense of their eyes on his back weighing heavily, but he refused to let it break him.

He didn’t want to believe it.

But the thought lingered on his head the whole day.

So, when the night came and it felt darker than usual, Joel walked through the quiet streets. He had changed into a worn-out jacket and a baseball cap, trying to blend into the shadows, to not be seen. He couldn’t bear the idea of anyone recognizing him, not in a place like this. The rumors had been eating at him all day, and he couldn’t ignore the need to see for himself, to find the truth.

His footsteps were almost silent as he approached the entrance of The Paradise. The neon lights flickered, casting an eerie glow over the sidewalk, and the sound of muffled bass and chatter seeped through the walls. As he stepped inside, the dimness hit him first, the low, seductive hum of the music, the scent of alcohol and smoke lingering in the air. The people inside were lost in their own worlds, laughing, shouting, and watching the stage with eager anticipation.

He stood still for a moment, taking in the scene. His heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard. The place was everything he had imagined, and yet it felt so foreign to him. He never thought he would set foot in a club like this, let alone come to watch you perform.

The house lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. The host’s voice echoed through the speakers presenting the next dancer.

Joel’s breath caught in his throat as the music shifted, slow and sultry. He watched as the spotlight flickered, landing on the stage just in time for you to emerge from the shadows. The crowd erupted into applause, but to Joel, it felt like the world had stopped.

You appeared, standing in the center of the stage, your silhouette framed by the soft red glow of the lights. You were wearing a red lace outfit, the fabric clinging to your body in all the right places. For a moment, Joel couldn’t breathe. The way you moved, the way you owned the space, graceful, mesmerizing, and completely unbothered by the eyes that followed your every step.

The applause from the crowd blurred into background noise as Joel’s gaze locked on you. Every motion you made was fluid, confident, hypnotic. His eyes traced the curve of your body as you moved with a sensuality that made his heart race, his mind spinning. There was something about the way you held yourself, the way you seemed so comfortable in your own skin, that had him entranced.

This was different from the woman he had get to know. This was you, unapologetically owning the stage, every movement a story, every sway of your hips a command. He had never seen you like this before.

Joel’s body tensed as he watched, his heart beating faster than he could keep up with. He tried to remind himself that this wasn’t you, this was just the person you had created, the role you were playing.

The music pulsed through you, guiding your movements as you danced. The crowd's cheers and whistles blended into the background, but all you could focus on was the rhythm of your body and the heat in the air. Every step, every sway was a release, a moment to escape. You had become this character, this untouchable, confident woman who commanded the stage. It was easy to disappear into it.

But then, amidst the sea of faces, your eyes found his.

Joel’s presence felt like a sudden pull, a gravity you hadn’t prepared for. You froze, your body stilling mid-motion as your gaze locked with his. His dark eyes, usually so calm and guarded, were wide with something raw, something you couldn't quite name. The moment seemed to stretch, as if the world around you had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in a charged uncomfortable silence.

For a split second, everything around you was muffled, the music, the applause, the cheering, none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the look on his face, the way he stood there, frozen, watching you. And the shock in your chest came crashing in, like a wave pulling you under.

Your heart skipped, the rhythm of your dance faltering. Your breath hitched as you felt your skin flush, your mind racing. You hadn’t expected him to be here, not like this. You hadn’t expected him to be watching you, not with that look on his face. And yet, there he was, standing in the darkened corner, his eyes wide, his body rigid, as if he had been caught in a moment he hadn’t anticipated.

For a moment, you couldn’t move. It was as though your body had forgotten how to do anything but stare back at him.

Joel didn’t look away. His eyes didn’t flicker. There was no mask of indifference this time. The look he gave you was so intense, so filled with something, disappointment, perhaps. It made your heart race and your legs feel weak. It was like you had broken through some invisible barrier between you, and for a moment, you weren’t the dancer on stage, you weren’t the woman who hid behind this person. You were just…you. And he could see it.

You blinked, your breath catching. And then, before you could stop yourself, you took a step back, your mind fighting against the weight of the moment. The music swirled around you again, but you couldn’t focus on it anymore. You felt like you were suffocating under the weight of his gaze.

Forcing yourself to continue, you tried to pick up the rhythm, but the fluidity of your movements had disappeared. The grace, the confidence, it was all gone. All that was left was the shock of that moment, the stunned recognition that maybe, just maybe, you had let him in. And he had seen more than you had ever intended.

The music seemed to echo louder now, a backdrop to the chaos in your head. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, burning through your every motion.

The song neared its end, and as you finished the routine, you stood still for a moment, your eyes once again locking with his across the room. The crowd erupted in applause, but you didn’t hear it. All you heard was the rapid beat of your own heart and the thoughts racing in your mind.

His heart raced as he turned and walked quickly toward the exit, avoiding the curious glances of the people around him. He pushed the door open to the night air, stepping out into the dimly lit street, his thoughts in a chaotic spiral.

tags: if you want to be removed, you're free to tell me.

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jinxs-gf · 1 year ago

Text

Can I? (kiss the hurt away)

YJ!Conner Kent x Spider!Reader

summary: you get hurt during a mission and Conner just wants to help. this finally brings you two together.

content/warnings: set in s1, lots of wounds, blood mentioned, awkward flirting…this was a shared prompt w my two besties, here’s my version! (I switched it up a bit), funny writing bc it’s from spider!reader’s perspective (mostly)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: FIRST CONNER FIC YAYAYYAYAYAY I hope people actually read for him lmaooo…enjoy!

There's a ringing in your ear for a while, your vision blurred. Just as you come out of it there's a voice—

"You okay?"

One you're very familiar with.

You slowly blink your eyes open. You're not sure what the hell your enemy just blasted you with, but it was enough to knock you out and make everything hurt. A lot.

"Uhh I think so?" Conner watched the white eyes of your mask blink, he could tell you were in fact, not okay.

He could see it from a distance, the distance he unknowingly made while fighting. He promised himself he'd stay close at all times when the team was in danger, when you could potentially get hurt. And look at you now. His ignorance to what was going on around him got you hurt.

At least that's what he told himself.

You swat his hands as he starts fussing over you, too disoriented to think about the action. Until you see his hurt face. He was only trying to help.

But Conner thinks, you were pushing him away, and rightfully so when he's the reason you're hurt in the first place.

"No no it's-" you heave a rugged sigh, your lungs feeling heavy. "I'm just out of it. Sorry. What was that guy packing in his gun anyways?"

Conner's reluctant in his assistance to you now, but you encourage him with a smile. He lifts you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to ensure you wouldn't fall back down. You definitely weren't in a state to be walking and that's proven when your legs wobble and all your weight falls onto him. Something he doesn't mind and in a different situation would smile at.

But you hiss as his pulls you up, and he's brought back to reality.

"Thanks Con-man." Another smile for him and his shoulders relax.

"I have no idea what that man was packing in his gun. All I know is it hurt you...really badly. You were out the rest of the fight."

"I was?" A quick look around and sure enough, you were. The quietness of the area should've been a clear sign there was no longer a battle going on.

"Looks like I was." And suddenly the team is behind you. It's a miracle the rest of them avoided getting hurt the way you did (which was a little embarrassing considering your spider senses).

"You alright, Spidey?" Wally and Artemis ask at the same time, they glare at each other for it.

"Jinx. Artemis, you owe me a soda."

"I do not-" you cut them off, ending the argument before it could start.

"Yeah I'm alright." But the way you leaned heavily onto the SuperBoy and breathed unevenly told a different story. Although that was nothing new, was it? You somehow were constantly hanging off the boy one way or another (not literally...though you wish it was).

"Are you sure? We'll have you get checked back at headquarters," Kaldur speaks. You simply nod, too weak to really do much else.

Robin was looking worriedly, trying to hide it but you could see right through him. You shot him a smile.

While the team discussed what to do with the bad guy, you stayed with Conner. There was an awkward silence until he spoke up, having enough of your small hisses and puffs at his side.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know, everything? I'm hurting everywhere," you were practically mumbling, fatigue evident with every word you spoke.

He huffs and places you on the floor again, carefully avoiding any rubble from the fight. Another pained hiss from you.

"Sorry sorry, I know," he's trying to figure out his next move. "I don't know how to make it better."

You shake your head, "that's alright Conner. You don't need to, you're not a doctor or anything."

And yet he looks guilty, like your wounds and the fact that he hasn't already done something to ease the pain was his fault. He eyed the arm you've been holding around your abdomen this whole time.

"You being here right now is enough. I promise. And this," you lift your arm finally, making a soft noise of pain in between, "it'll go down by tomorrow-"

"Shit! When did that happen?" His voice startles you, the sudden noise rattling your probably concussed brain. You finally look down to see blood dripping from a scratch in your suit.

"Shit. When did that happen? How..."

"I didn't realize it was that bad. I'm sorry."

"No Conner, it's okay-"

"Can I?"

"Huh?" And Conner is gesturing to your mask, your eyes widen.

"You're breathing too heavily for it to be comfortable. Please?" He wouldn't say part of it was because he needed to see your face to comfort him.

You nod.

He doesn't freak out when he takes it off, so that's a good sign.

"How do I look?" he doesn't answer for a few seconds, he's carefully observing your face it seems. You can't help but smile.

And he smiles back, "still beautiful as ever."

"Okay lover boy," you desperately wish the mask was on, if only to hide your timid expression. "You don't need to flatter me."

Conner clears his throat quickly, awkwardly. As if he didn't realize he said it out loud.

He really didn't mean to. But seeing how shy and...dare he say happy you looked after he said it, he thinks it wasn't such a bad thing.

"You have a few scratches. But you're still-"

"Beautiful as ever, yeah yeah I heard you," maybe he wasn't going to say it again, but you weren't going to risk it. You don't think you could take it if he said it. You'd probably do something stupid like kiss him—

He swallows thickly, still embarrassed. "We need to get you back," he goes to pick you up, only this time it's not so you can stand upright. No. He's preparing to carry you bridal style. Oh no. Now you really might kiss him (that is if you don't pass out within the next few seconds). "Can I carry you? I don't think you're in good enough shape to walk right now."

"Rude."

"No I didn't mean-"

You laugh, maybe a little meanly, you knew he wasn't good on certain social cues yet, making teasing him easy, "sorry- I know what you mean. Yeah it's...alright. You can totally carry me." Now you were beginning to feel awkward.

He picks you up easily. And you're starting to agree with him, you definitely weren't in any shape to walk if him lifting you was enough to make you dizzy.

You weren't kidding yourself when you said you'd pass out before you could kiss him.

Your head lays comfortably on his chest...right over his heart which happened to be beating like crazy.

Was that your doing? You really hope so.

He carries you a little behind the rest of the team, murmuring reassurances and praise. 'You did good back there.' 'You're gonna be okay, I'll make sure of it.' 'Stay close to me okay? I'll make it better.'

Bioship took you all back to Mount Justice, M'gann talking your ear off the whole time. Starting with worried rambles about how hurt you looked and fading into a new tv show she got into. One she wished her people on Mars could enjoy.

Usually you wouldn't mind it, but you could feel an oncoming headache the whole ride. You didn't have the heart to tell her to stop nor that you weren't really listening. Not feeling bad only because Wally seemed enthralled with her storytelling (suck up) and flirted here and there.

You were too busy focusing on your shadow anyways. Aka the SuperBoy who refused to leave your side and was quite literally on you the whole way. Between him, M'gann, and Wally's flirting with her (and Robin's occasional butting in to tease) you were surprised you didn't go insane on the ride back.

When you did get back, they told you it was bad (fatal for a normal person) but nothing you couldn't handle. Just a broken rib (unfortunately common for you) and a slight concussion. Great. Accompanied with bruises and the big gash on your abdomen. That weapon really did a number on you. Conner went off on the adults for saying it was "nothing you couldn't handle" because you were "on the brink of dying". Which is a bit dramatic, but having him be so protective over you was kind of nice...or whatever.

They suggested you took a break for a week and a half (a conclusion you came to after you'd negotiated with them for a good 5 minutes. because who do they think they were benching you—for good reason—for 2 weeks?!) should a mission come up within that time.

You sighed on the couch, everyone was either in their rooms or went home for the day. They said their goodbyes and wished you well, to which you replied 'pfft I'll be better by tomorrow. just watch.' It would be really embarrassing if you weren't better by tomorrow...you unfortunately bet money on it. Stupid.

"You okay?"

"A little better now. Thanks for taking care of me."

"I wish I could've done more...I said I would but all I did was sit back and watch everyone else take care of you." This was clearly eating at him, although it's a wonder why.

Nothing about the situation was his fault nor should he feel guilty about "not doing enough."

"Conner, I told you it's alright and that you being there for me was enough. And I meant every word."

He sits with you, thigh to thigh with his head in his hands.

You pat his shoulder, "it's alright big guy. I'm okay, I'll be fully recovered soon."

"Not soon enough."

You sigh, he could be really stubborn sometimes. Frustratingly so.

"Con, please. Look at me?" He listens. And you regret asking him. You hate the look in his eyes, or rather you hate the way it makes you feel. Another case of you're going to kiss him if he keeps this up.

How could such a big, stubborn, and (apparently) non-affectionate guy have the biggest puppy eyes? Ones that have you melting.

His face is now in your palms. With the way he's looking at you, surely he wouldn't mind if you gave in and...kissed him, right?

"Can I kiss you?"

He's stunned for a moment before finally speaking up, "isn't it obvious that I want you to?"

You both share shy smiles thinking, finally.

You lean in, hands still cupping his face, his now doing the same.

Although the kiss was a little awkward, the two of you not exactly experienced in that department (him coming out of a literal tube only months ago), as well as a little...messy—it was everything you could've wanted in your first kiss with him. A kiss that was going to be the start of the two of you. SuperBoy and the Spider. You hated how warm the thought made you.

You were practically radiating giddiness, Conner could feel it. He pulled away still smiling, "I've wanted to do that for a really long time now."

"Me too. You know what also was great about that? You kissed my ouchies away. I'm all better now."

"Ouchies? What are we, five?"

There's silence, not of awkwardness, but from two of you reeling from the kiss, processing the fact that it was real.

"I don't want to be the one to break this up but...we should really get to bed. With your concussion and training being early tomorrow..."

"Yeah, of course," the giddiness hasn't left, "would you uh...want to come? With me? To bed."

"Gee Spider, at least take me to dinner first."

"Oh, so he's got jokes now?"

"Only for you, babe."

"Ew, you sound like Wally."

"Ouch? Don't insult me like that," but he doesn't look offended in the slightest. There's probably the biggest smile you've seen on his face, ever.

Safe to say it was not fun explaining why Conner was in your bed the next morning, trying to convince everyone it was purely innocent.

Batman was disappointed, reminding you that you needed to wait until you were healed before you did anything physical. Haha. Very funny.

And the team snapped pictures that they would definitely use against Conner (seeing as he was the more...emotionally constipated and reluctantly affectionate one).

But you honestly couldn't be happier. And neither could he.

does it seem a bit rushed at the end? unfortunately

do I have the patience to fix it? no

hope you enjoyed :D

#conner kent x reader #superboy x reader #young justice x reader #young justice Conner Kent #conner kent imagine #Conner Kent fanfic #kon el x reader #Conner Kent x male reader #Conner Kent x female reader #Conner Kent x gender neutral reader #Conner Kent x you #superboy x you #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x male reader #dc x female reader #spider!reader

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w2soneshots · 3 months ago

Note

i’ve can’t stop thinking about an idea i have in my head, is it possible for a george fic but and if your are missing your family and getting really upset and george comes to comfort you?? in inside btw!!

Cameras off -George clarkey

words: 0.6k+

warnings: angst/comfort.

notes: thank you for the idea girly, this is cuteee! I did write it as a shorter blurb since I’ve already done one INside fic (though it ended up being a little longer than expected)😌🫶🏼. Enjoy!!💘

The group sat in the living room, now not as many as the beginning of the week but it was still loud. Your head ached as PK started shouting -unintentionally- about something you weren't paying attention to, though in that moment it was the last thing you needed.

You got up without a word and took yourself into the makeup room, where all of the girls get ready in the morning. Sitting on a stool, you took a deep breath, trying to calm your emotions as the thoughts in your mind started to consume you.

"Hey?" A hand on your back startled you, causing you to jump slightly. "Sorry, you okay?" George asked quietly, a softness to his voice that you hadn't heard before.

You nodded, not fully trusting your voice. "Do you wanna go outside? The team will let you if you need a second." He was being so sweet and it was just making it harder for you to hold your tears back.

"Yeah, can you come with me?" You asked, without thinking. They usually didn't let two people go outside at once, to avoid interesting conversations not being filmed.

"y/n and George to room nineteen," the intercom voice spoke before you could say another word. You looked at each other. "Come on." He reached his hand out for you to take once he'd stood up. You took it and he lead you to room nineteen, everyone else still sat chatting away in the main area.

One of the welfare people stood outside the door once you entered the hallway. "Hi," the kind woman began, "Tobi saw some of your conversation, if you need to you can go outside with George. They won't show any of this if you don't want them too."

You let out a slight breath of relief. "That'd be great," you replied quietly. "Okay," she nodded, "follow me." She lead you and George to the private terrace then checked you were okay one last time before telling you to take as long as you needed.

The both of you sat on the outdoor sofa they had and you breathed in the fresh air. "So, what ails you?" He asked in a doctory voice, lightning the mood. "Just- I'm just overwhelmed I think. There's no peace and I like my alone time, you know?" You looked to him.

"I completely get that," he reassured you, "there's a lot of big personalities. Plus, being filmed constantly doesn't help the situation." You nodded, looking down at your lap then you spoke again, "it's also so awful not knowing what's going on outside, like if everyone's okay." A tear slipped down your cheek.

George felt for you and he was feeling the exact same. He shuffled closer to you and slowly put his hand on your knee. "Want a hug?" "Yeah," you whispered tearfully before leaning into him. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and after a few silent sobs you calmed.

"Sorry," you mumbled as you pulled away, wiping the few tears you'd left on his hoodie. "Don't worry about it. Feel better?" He kept his voice soft and calm as he spoke. "Much, thanks for being my therapist," you smiled as you tried to make yourself look normal and like you'd not been crying.

After a few more minutes of quiet you felt ready to go back into the house. Just before you opened the door you went to kiss George on the cheek -to say thank you- but he turned and you ended up kissing his lips. "Oh- that- oops." You both burst out laughing, nether of you were mad about the kiss.

The last few days you spent most of your time together, wether it was sat next to each other on the couch, switching beds so that you slept in the corner next to his or him spending his morning at the makeup table talking to you while you got ready.

You fancied George and he fancied you, so when you finally got out of the house and he asked you out obviously you said yes.

533 notes · View notes

wisecura · 6 months ago

Text

Sweeter (NSFW)

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.2 - 4k (all for the fuckin' smut)

summary: THE PWP FOR: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: man I'm getting some good practice for writing smut. I hope it's as coherent as my tired brain thought it was. loosely proofread, so please enjoy-

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE

warnings: do not read if you are sensitive to dubcon, or any kind of dark fic topics, small age gap (not even mentioned, they're past high school), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, Dom-Suguru, pussydrunk, creampie cleanup, breeding kink, virgin reader that somehow knows how to deepthroat a large cock (with minimal instructions-first try!), if they sound mean-i'm sorry, immature (sheltered) reader,

did you want to read it again?

The wedding was straight out of a fairytale, bathed in the rich, traditional colors that only added to the day’s dreamlike quality.

There he was—Satoru, the man you were about to call your husband.

Each time you glanced at him, dressed sharply, standing poised and perfect, it took your breath away. Marrying the most sought-after bachelor around, a man wrapped in prestige, wealth, and unmatched power and strength, felt crazy. The only word to describe it was surreal.

Satoru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as they announced your union. The kiss–though he'd kissed you plenty of times before, was now on the lips. A little deeper, holding the back of your head, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away too quickly, leaving you breathless.

During the reception, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you caught snippets of conversation from Satoru’s relatives, their voices low, gazing at you with a gleam in their eyes. One topic staying constant on their tongues: producing an heir.

It was a layer of expectation that loomed large, suddenly making your new reality even more daunting than you had anticipated.

As the night drew to a close and the estate began to quiet down, the weight of what was expected in your marriage truly settled in. Would Satoru really expect... that... so soon?

The thought of... consummation, when you hadn't even been dating, churned in your stomach as you hesitantly approached his, now your bedroom door. All your belongings were already here, making this vast place your new home, but this final step—something you felt completely unprepared for—loomed large.

With a shaky breath, you knocked gently on the door. The sound echoed slightly in the still hallway, perfectly in tune with the rapid beating of your heart. When the door finally swung open, Satoru loomed above you, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling from the room, haloing him in an almost ethereal glow.

"You came," he remarked, a hint of surprise coloring his voice as if he hadn't fully expected you to follow through. You stood awkwardly a the door, feeling a little shy. Where you not supposed to-

"Come on," his hand reaching out to grasp your arm, pulling you into the room with a gentle tug that caused you to stumble slightly. As you regained your balance, your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It was strikingly sterile, devoid of personal touches, which made it feel less like a bedroom and more like an impersonal guest room. You assumed your belongings had already been neatly stored away in the closet. However, what really caught your attention wasn’t the room’s lack of personality but rather what—or rather, who—was on the large king-sized bed.

Suguru was there, lounging casually as if his presence in this intimate setting was the most natural thing in the world, the sight throwing you off.

"S-Suguru?" Your voice wavered, tinged with disbelief. He hadn't been at the wedding celebrations, and it had been months since you'd last seen him. Overcome with a mix of surprise and relief, you quickly crossed the room and threw yourself onto his lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Even I didn't get this reaction," Satoru muttered from behind you, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense.

Suguru's response was a deep, resonant chuckle that vibrated through his chest, warming you with its familiarity. The position was intimate, but you'd sat on their laps plenty of times before.

Obviously nothing would happen tonight if he was here.

"It's been a while, pretty girl," Suguru murmured, his hand gently caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, realizing just how much you had missed his presence.

"Heard you got married while I was gone," his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you nuzzled closer, reveling in the comfort his presence provided. The familiarity of his scent and the steady beat of his heart soothing your nerves.

"Ok, now I'm starting to get jealous," Satoru's voice came from behind you. You heard his footsteps as he approached, and you felt the bed give way under his weight, his body pressed against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them.

Suguru's hand reached over your shoulder, affectionately patting Satoru on the head.

"Now why would you be jealous? She's your wife," Suguru teased, his voice light but carrying a note that stirred a chill down your spine. You were still not quite accustomed to being called someone's wife.

"And here you are, all cuddled up next to her," Satoru huffed, his tone playful yet pointed.

"You promised we'd share, Satoru. Don't get greedy now," he added, reminding Satoru of some unspoken agreement that seemed to include you in their plans. You felt nervous as you let outa small breath.

"Promised you'd share?" The words slipped out, small, tinged with disbelief as you craned your neck to look up at Suguru. Almost instantly, you felt Satoru's presence push behind you. His body pressed closer, his breath warm on your neck, and his arms cinched tighter around your waist—a clear sign he didn't appreciate being ignored–even for a moment.

"Of course, sweet girl. We couldn’t possibly let you end up with just anyone," Suguru replied, his tone casual but obviously carrying an coolness that had you momentarily stunned.

"But what do you mean by 'share'?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, your brain not fully wrapping around his meaning.

Suguru's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, technically, you can only marry one of us, right?"

Before you could digest this, Satoru piped up from behind, his voice laced with a mix of jest and arrogance, "And I’m the heir to the Gojo family, so obviously I’m the better choice."

This boast earned him a scathing look from Suguru, who, despite the tension, continued to stroke your head in a seemingly soothing manner. Yet, the gesture now felt more like a claim being staked, adding to the surreal-ness of the situation.

"You've always been part of us, yeah? Every moment we've spent together built towards this. It's natural for us to be together. All ours."

Your mind reeled, struggling to piece together the implications of his words. "I... but I thought we were just friends. What do you mean I've always been yours?"

Satoru's breath was warm against your ear. "Think about it. Who's always been there for you? Who have you spent all your time with? It's always been us, hasn't it? It's not just friendship. It's more than that, and deep down, you know it," he whispered, each word designed to reshape your understanding of the past few years you shared together. Willing you to understand.

"But... How? A marriage is supposed to be between two people–a man and a woman–not... not this," you protested weakly, trying to grasp the reality they presented against everything you thought you knew–everything your clan has taught you.

Suguru laughed softly, a sound that used to comfort you but now seemed to carry a darker undertone. "Who says it has to be just two people?–man, woman, same difference. What we have? It's special, unique. We don't need to follow society's rules. We make our own rules because we're meant to be together. All of us."

Satoru nodded, adding, "Exactly. Why limit ourselves? You're ours, and we're yours. We've shared everything, haven't we? Our food, our time, our secrets. Sharing our lives through marriage is just the next step."

Your face flushed red, a mix of confusion and realization washing over you. "I... I do love you both," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You are the most important people in my life. I can't imagine being without you." Despite the situation, your heart knew these feelings were genuine. You've obviously never confessed, and this just felt so new. So nerve wracking.

Suguru's expression softened, his earlier laughter fading into a more sincere, tender smile. "And we love you, too. More than you can imagine," he assured you, hands collecting your hair together. "We've never planned to let you go, not now, not ever."

As Satoru buried his face deeper into your neck, you felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle kisses he planted along your skin. Each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured right into your ear, “No matter what happens, even if you wanted to leave, we wouldn’t let you. You're part of us, and that’s how it’s going to stay. We’re in this together, forever.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your heart swell with happiness. It felt right, being here with them, more right than anything else ever had. They were no longer just dreams or fantasies—they were real, tangible–and you finally saw them for what they were.

Yours.

Suguru’s hands joined Satoru’s at your waist, tightening his hold just as his gaze pierced into yours. His question was direct, catching you by surprise. "Have you been with anyone before?" His eyes seemed to search for any hint of deceit in your response.

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he meant, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No, I’ve.... never been with anyone. I don’t even really know how all this is supposed to work," you admitted, feeling your heart race under his intense attention.

Sensing your nervousness, Suguru suddenly took charge, his voice firm as he instructed Satoru to give you some space. "Scoot back a bit, let's not crowd her," he said, a playful note creeping in his voice. Satoru moved back reluctantly, mumbling a mix of playful huffs and complaints. “She’s my wife,”

"It'll start with kissing," Suguru ignores him, instead focusing his attention on you. "Already done that," you chimed in quickly, remembering the kisses shared with Satoru, the one from the alter-really only wanting to be helpful.

You didn't expect Suguru’s poutily looking away. A hint of annoyance flickering across his face. Sure, he expected the two of you to already kiss when you were married but…. "Satoru’s already kissed you…." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Curious, you asked, "What’s wrong?" Satoru couldn't help but chime in with a grin, "Suguru’s jus’ jealous." Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the tease, but before you could respond, Suguru pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a deep, all-consuming kiss. It was intense and filled with an urgency that seemed to be fueled by Satoru’s taunting.

His hands trial down your body, squeezing and pulling you closer, exploring you completely. You're sat in his lap, as he forces your hips to grind into his, an obvious bulge pressing against you, his eyes damn near black–blown out, watching you closely as you break for air.

Looking down, his palms massage your thighs, hitching your nightgown up higher, fingers finally reaching your covered slit as you let out a small whimper from the contact.

You felt all eyes on you, and couldn't help the nerves that coiled in your stomach–even now with you splayed across his lap on display, hungry eyes watching you–you still felt embarrassed. You heard shuffling from behind you, turning your head to meet Satoru-but before you could, Suguru’s hands grabbed your chin to face him.

“Eyes on me, Doll.” The breathy puff of air you let out was all instinctual–the way he so easily commanded your attention with his pet names. And the tremble in your rolling hips forced his eyes back down, trailing his hand across your chest, your stomach, and finally down to the soaked fabric. “Satoru, I think your wife likes me more.”

Your hands grip onto the fabric of his shirt, and you so desperately want to look back when you hear the slick sounds from behind you, Satoru’s annoyed sulky puff at Suguru’s comment sounding out around the loud, wet slaps.

“hah–gimme a minute with her, and let's see who’s talkin’–” But once again Suguru ignores him, his fingers teetering the border of your panties, obviously distracted, before finally sliding a finger along your drenched folds. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying himself in deeper, a sickening squelch reverberating the room, now matching the pace of the sound behind you. So filthy, and you really didn't know any better-

You can't help the low moan you let out, or the way your nails dig into his shoulders, hips bucking into his thick fingers, seeking a release you didn't expect. And just as sudden, he withdrawals his fingers, bringing them up to your face, as if he were scolding you.

“Look at how filthy you are.” he coos out, voice husky. “So cute.” You’re beet red.

"Please, tell me you’re gonna let me have a taste.” Satoru's voice sounds out behind you, begging, more desperate than you've ever heard from him before. “C’mon Suguru, please.”

You could hear the rasp in his words, laced with heavy desire, as you watched Suguru shocked, no- stunned at the request. You couldn't see his face, but the audible fapping noises behind you were enough to give you a picture.

“What do you think, doll? Should we let him taste?” His voice dripping in amusement, as you shake your head, mouth agape, “t-that’s nasty, Sugur–” before you could finish your protest, Suguru leans over you, pulling Satoru in by his neck, pushing you down on the bed in the process.

Now hovering above you, slotted between your legs–his hardened length firmly pressed against your center. You finally have a clear image of them both, as you see his fingers being shoved into Satoru’s mouth, grip choking him, and the lewd image of his fingers fucking into his mouth would stay ingrained into your mind for weeks after–you've never seen him so rough before.

And what shocked you moreso was when Satoru practically moaned at the contact of your taste on his tongue, lolling out, leaning into his aggressive hold as if it were the most natural thing ever. He greedily laps Suguru's fingers, fingers gripping Suguru’s wrist close, eyes rolling back, a sinful expression gracing his face.

You have a clear view of just what Satoru was up to behind your back, his massive hand actively stroking his girthy cock, now inches from your face. You can't keep your eyes off of it as you study it religiously. You've never seen one before. Was that thing supposed to….fit inside you? ]

Suguru chuckled lowly at your reactions, gaze locked onto you before pulling his fingers from Satoru’s mouth, releasing his hold on his neck.

“He’s such a nasty boy, don't you think? Getting all hard from his wife being felt up like that.” Your eyes find Suguru’s again as he watches you closely. You can't respond-and how were you supposed to with two very large, very big men standing over you?

“You nervous?” you nod before you could stop yourself. Without hesitating, he pushes himself into you, spurring a small whimper from you, “It’s okay baby. We’ll take good care of you.” His fingers find your clit through your panties, as he continues grinding into you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge, mind going fuzzy as you watch Satoru stroking himself.

His eyes meet yours, glazing over, pupils matching Suguru’s, and they both sense your impending orgasm growing with every passing second, your body responding to Suguru’s touch despite your initial hesitation. "You're so wet already, doll," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels so tight ‘n warm.”

Satoru chuckles, licking his lips as he watches Suguru's movements, leaning down to hover over your face, “Wanna taste?” And before you could answer, he’s leaning into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and you can taste your own slick on him.

Breaking away, his fingers make their way to your mouth, eyes watching you, burning you. He moves his thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with the tip of his cock instead, tracing your lips with it. "Open up."

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you hesitantly part your lips, allowing Satoru to slide his cock inside. Your eyes widen as you taste him for the first time, a salty white thickness coating your tongue. Suguru takes this opportunity to slide a finger inside you once again, curling it just right to hit that spot.

You moan involuntarily, your hips bucking against his hand, allowing Satoru's cock in deeper, almost choking on it. Satoru smirks, his hands moving to grip your head, guiding your movements. He loves the way you look with his cock in your mouth, so innocent yet so sinful. He thrusts deeper, his hips rocking against your face, as you continue slurping on his thick cock. “Eh eh, no teeth baby, hollow out that mouth, jus like that, goooood girl–”

“Cmon now Satoru, she can't breathe.” Suguru reprimands lightly, your head going dizzy at the lack of oxygen.

“You sure you're a virgin?” Satoru moaned out, “sure doesn't seem like it.”

“Easy now, Satoru, don't make me tie you down.” You barely catch the words, Satoru filling your mouth as drool pooled around the edges. You’d complain, but the moans coming from Satoru were godly, and the feel of Suguru grinding into your clothed cunt had easily clouded your thoughts.

“So good fer me,” Satoru praises, pulling his cock from your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva. They both are mesmerized at how your body takes them both so well, each stimulation eliciting such a vulgar reaction from you. You already looked fucked out and they haven’t even started.

Suguru pulls your panties down now, fixated on your weeping bare cunt, drawing satorus attention. “Sucha pretty little hole.” His fingers trail the edges, before dipping inside, and you moan at the intrusion.

“Let's keep this mouth busy, yeah?” and before you know it, Satoru’s cock is back on your tongue, thrusting in deep, as you gag. The sight of your pretty mouth struggling to accommodate him only spurs him on, and you do your best to relax your jaw–only hoping that you were doing it right.

Suguru's eyes flicker with a primal hunger as he watches you struggle to adjust to Satoru's cock. He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before he replaces them with something much larger.

You feel his cock press against your entrance, causing your eyes to widen, not sure he’d be able to even fit there. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, gripping your head firmer as he thrusts deeper into your mouth. Suguru leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "Relax," he whispers soothingly. "It'll be easier if you just relax, baby."

You nod, trying to settle down, trusting him completely, he slowly pushes himself inside you, his thick length stretching you wide open. You whimper around Satoru's cock as Suguru fills you up, pleasure and pain melding together in a heady mix, the stretch almost unbearable.

Satoru groans at the feel of your throats vibrations, as Suguru gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Satoru matches his pace, thrusting in sync with Suguru. You feel completely filled, sandwiched between them both. They take turns praising you, their voices muffled by their own pleasure-filled moans.

"Fuck, you feel incredible." Suguru's husky voice echoes through your mind as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper inside your sloppy pussy. "Such a good girl, taking both of us so well." Satoru adds, his breathing labored as he watches Suguru claim you, eagerly awaiting his turn.

Their movements become more erratic as they lose themselves in their lust, their hands roaming over your body possessively.

Suguru's thumb circles your clit faster, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, as Satoru thrusts harder into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You moan around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him, causing his hips to stutter. They continue to worship your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Should I cum in this pussy?” Suguru says, staring down at you through hooded eyes.

His words send a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, your walls contracting around him involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming rougher as he groans, "Fuck yes, I'm going to cum inside you, this pussy will be dripping, ‘m gonna give you so much." His eyes bore into yours, filled with a possessive hunger that makes you squirm. Satoru groans at the sight, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth momentarily to trail wet kisses down your neck, leaving your mouth open for you to sputter out a string of curses and moans. He circles your nipple with his tongue, making you arch into him as Suguru continues to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, she's so responsive.” His own climax building at the sight of your impending orgasm.

Suguru grunts in approval at your response, his hips driving harder into yours, his cock stretching you deliciously. You can hear the offensive wet sounds of their movements filling the room, making your core clench even more around Suguru's length. "you're so goddamn tight,"

Suguru curses, his control slipping. Satoru's lips leave your nipple to trail kisses along your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" He asks huskily, his hand wandering down to grip your thigh, holding it aside so he could see better.

"Mhmph," you moan, nodding vigorously, your body trembling under the dual assault. Suguru grunts, his pace relentless as he feels your pussy begin to spasm around him. "That's it, take it all, you're doing so well," Satoru praises, his voice rough, strained with arousal. Suguru's movements become erratic as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper, more primal.

"Fuckfuck–yes, cum on this dick,” He curses as his orgasm hits, his cock pulsing inside you as he releases hot streams of cum. Your walls tighten around him, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, making you buck wildly against him.

Suguru growls as he feels you clamp around him, cursing as he sinks his fingers into you tighter. Satoru watches intently, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Suguru's movements slow, but he doesn’t pull out, letting his cum fill you as he catches his breath. "Holy shit. You were holdin' out on us."

Suguru presses soft kisses against your neck while he waits for you to come down from your high. Suguru withdraws from you slowly, his cum trickling down onto the king bed below you. Before you can catch your breath, Satoru takes his place, his cock pressing against your sensitive entrance. "My turn now," and before you can protest, he thrusts in deep as Suguru leans in to capture your pathetic whimpers with a filthy kiss.

Satoru's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deeper into you–the stretch so familiar but so different, his movements calculated to drive you wild. "So wet,so sososo so good," he groans, his pace increasing steadily. He loves the feeling of you around him, the way your walls clench with each stroke, recovering from your orgasm-pulsating just right-so hotsohotsohot, Suguru’s cum working as a lube for your poor abused hole–no doubt overstimulated. Suguru watches from the side, stroking himself lazily as he watches Satoru claim you, his own lust rekindled. They both lose themselves in the moment, completely consumed by their desire for you.

"You're going to take every drop," Satoru grunts, his own orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching at a scary speed, your body begging for release as he hits all the right spots.

When you finally cum, your pussy milks him greedily, pulling out every last drop of cum. They both groan in pleasure, the sight of you too good to pass up, as Satoru pulls out, he chuckles at your spent form, the sight of his cum dripping from you making him hard again already. Collapsing on the bed next to you, spent and satisfied.

He reaches out to trace patterns over your sensitive folds, playing with the mess they've made together, slick pooling at his fingertips. "Look at what a good little slut you are, stuffed by two men's seeds," he teases, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your thigh before looking over at Suguru with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think she can handle us both filling her up?"

Suguru looks over at you with a hungry gaze, he runs a hand through his dark hair, eyes trailing down to where their cum pools between your legs. "We'll have to see," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He moves closer, positioning himself beside Satoru so that they're both looming over you, staring down at your spent form. "But first, Be a good boy, Satoru, and clean her up."

His hand on the back of his head, but you don't think he needed much convincing. Satoru leans forward without hesitation, his tongue licking up the mixture of their cum from your inner thighs- drawing patterns, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of both of their essences mixed with your sweetness. You whimper at the sensation, your body still sensitive and now overstimulated.

Suguru watches, his hand gripping Satoru's hair tightly, his own cock stirring again at the sight of Satoru’s tongue dipping into your pussy, tonguing the white mixture, with a nasty blissed out expression.

"Spread wider for him, doll," he instructs, his voice husky with desire. You obey automatically despite you craving the need to shut them tightly, your legs trembling as Satoru's tongue delves deeper, arms pinning your bucking hips down to the bed.

You moan out loudly, your body writhing beneath him, as Satoru licks and sucks at your swollen clit, relishing in your responsiveness, swallowing down every drop that your pussy gave him.

Suguru reaches over him to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as he watches Satoru work his magic on your sensitive nerves. "Such a good girl," he praises, his free hand stroking his hardening cock again. "So responsive, so eager for more. You really ready for round two?"

Satoru smirks up at Suguru, licking cum from his lips before leaning up to meet his lips in a filthy kiss. You watch in a haze of pleasure as they share your taste, their tongues tangling together hungrily. When they finally pull apart, Suguru's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you.

"I think she's ready for whatever we want to give her,"

did you want to read it again?

come home, this one has a second home

1K notes · View notes

interruptedtrance · 4 months ago

Note

can you write something about first time anal with lando?

First time trying anal (lando x reader)

Smut; 18+

word count: 3.3k

contains: anal, butt plugs, nicknames (baby), aftercare, just reader being smart and doing research, sexting (facetime)

i might have done a bit too much research for this, but thank you so much for the ask! and i'm so sorry this has been rotting in my ask box for so long, but i really wanted to give it justice.

masterlist

“lando, don’t laugh” you say, your cheeks becoming warmer by the second, making lando stifle a laugh, “oke rude, you didn’t even know what i was gonna say!”

lando pulls the best serious face he can, “please continue baby”.

exhaling “i really hate you sometimes”, now sitting next to him on the couch “i want to try anal” you blurt out feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again, making lando look at you with a surprised expression, “no, no, you are great and really you please me, but i -”.

“baby, stop, breathe” he says firmly, “i’ll gladly try something new with you” gently giving your hand a squeeze, “i know i please you, the scratches on my back are proof of that”

“sorry” you interrupt.

“but i also understand you want to try something new and different” he says, giving your lips a quick kiss in the hopes of relaxing you.

“thank you” you mumble, melting into the kiss.

making him smile, “don’t thank me yet” he says pulling you onto his lap kissing your neck.

gently you pull away, “lando not yet, i haven’t done it with anyone before” you whisper.

“that's alright baby” he kisses your lips, “how about you do some research while i'm gone for the weekend, and then we talk about it?” lightly tracing his fingers along your back, “find some toys that you like, check out the different materials, and sizes, hm? does that sound good?” he whispers back, giving you a shy smile.

bringing your pinky to him “promise we will talk all about it once you get home?”.

he wraps his pinky around yours “i promise”.

time skip

you wake up to lando wrapping his arms around you, “you’re home!”, you turn around in his tightening grip.

“i am baby” he says with a smile, softly kissing your lips, “how about you tell me everything about the research you have done in the morning? hmmm does that sound good baby?” he speaks with a yawn.

“yeah” you answer yawning back, shifting closer to lando and falling asleep in his arms.

time skip

“lando, wake up, the breakfast will get cold” you whisper slightly, shaking him awake.

“five more minutes”.

“i made waffles”, making him jolt up.

“what are we waiting for, let's go eat!”

“i can’t believe you” you mumble, walking behind him, to your kitchen. where both of you prepare your plates and move to the balcony, cuddling on the sofa enjoying the view and food.

“so, tell me about it?” lando interrupts your train of thought.

“hm?” you look confused, “oh yeah!” you sit up a bit, looking at your lover. “so,-”

“do you want to order them?” he questioned.

“they are already here” you say with a whisper, cheeks heating up.

“yeah, you are not eager at all” he teases.

“shut up, do you want to hear the rest?” you plea.

“yes, please continue” he says, while moving his empty plate to the table and resting one of his hands on your thigh, gently caressing it.

“so i've ordered a glass set of different sizes, i didn't want metal ones, people said they might be too heavy for your first time, and i didn't want silicone, it feels like we won't be able to clean it. i have also ordered anal lube with them, but not the kind with numbing agents because they increase the risk of injury.”

lando nods, “that sounds good, any positions?”

“yes!” you smile, “it's called face to face, basically i sit in your lap while you are sitting, it really is just a sat up cowgirl.”, “and i'm supposed to practice twice per day for 5 to 10 minutes, for two weeks before moving to the next size.”

lando interrupts, “yes baby the position sounds good, but how do you want me to insert them, or do you want to do it yourself?”

“oh yeah! could you please do it? while i'm laying down.”

“of course i can baby” he says, giving your lips a quick peck. “wanna start now?” he questions, raising his eyebrows.

“hmmmm maybe” you tease, getting up from the sofa and reaching out a hand to grab his, and lead him to the bedroom, where you plop yourself down onto the bed.

“wait, lan, go get a towel” you say, making him leave the room to grab a few towels, while he is out you rid yourself of your clothing and pull out the lube and the smallest butt plug from a box under the bed.

“you ready baby?” lando questions, his arms wrapping around your middle, after he drops the towels on to the bed, gently swaying you side to side.

you smile, and relax in his hold, “i am a bit nervous, but it's a good nervous”.

he spins you around so you face him, “are you sure?”

“i am, can we please start?” and with those words lando gently pushes you on the bed, and climbs over you so your faces meet aging. gently he kisses you, and flips you over so you are laying on your stomach.

he grabs a pillow from the headboard, and covers it with a towel, “can you lift your hips for me baby” and without much persuading you lift your hips, where he slides the pillow under them. your butt now sticking up in the air, making shiver from how exposed you feel.

“i won't do anything without telling you first, okay baby?” lando gently speaks, while rubbing the back of your thigh.

“okay”

“what’s our safe word?”

“it's red”

“yes, you are so good for me baby” he praises, making a smile appear and your cheeks to heat up, only intensifying your need to bury your face in the covers.

you hear and feel movement behind you, making you raise your head up to see what lando is doing, “oh baby you can lay down and relax, i'm only applying lube to my finger”

“can you help me a bit, could you please hold yourself open for me?” without hesitation your hands move back and spread yourself open, “thank you baby” he says while softly giving one of your thighs a peck.

“i will just drop a bit of lube onto your hole, i'm sorry baby but it might be cold for a second” the sudden cold feeling made you squeeze yourself and cry out a bit from the difference in sensation.

“you are doing really well baby, here baby i will now start.” and you feel a gentle pressure at your entrance but not enough to penetrate, now carefully moving around in a circular motion, making your toes curl, and pulling out a moan from you.

“baby, i will now slowly put my finger in” and the pressure on your hole increases, you gently and slowly feel lando's finger enter you, making you breathe harder. “you are doing so good baby” he praises.

“does it feel good? hmmm do you want me to move?” lando whispers.

“it does feel good, please move” and with permission granted he carefully starts circling his finger, making you gasp out, and moving your hands back to your front so you can grab onto the covers. “lando, please don't stop”.

“do you want me to add another finger?” his motion never stopping.

“can we try the plug please?”

“of course we can, but i'll have to remove my finger, are you alright with that?”

“mhm, just be quick”

“alright, alright” he removes his finger frim, you making you now moan at the empty feeling. “here baby i am applying the lube to the plug, i will gently spread you, you just focus on your breathing and the pleasure” lando says, before you feel his other hand spreading your ass open and gently bringing the tip of the plug to your entrance but not yet applying any pressure, making your breath hitch from the new feeling.

“baby, i will apply pressure now, tell me if anything hurts” you now feel a steady pressure at your entrance, the plug is pushing you open, but so far nothing you can't handle. soon enough you feel the plug widen a bit, which stretches you out a bit more than lando’s finger, making you inhale deeply, and lando stops for a second so you can adjust to the size. once you give him a little nod he continues, gently you feel the plug slide into place, and your ass closes around the neck of the plug, making you moan out in pleasure.

lando brings both of his hands to your ass and gives a bit of a rough squeeze making you moan out, “baby, fuck you look so good, i'm so fucking hard right now.”

the statement makes you gently get up and kneel on the bed, where you can see lando practically forming a tent in his shorts. carefully you get off the bed and kneel in front of your boyfriend, silently asking for permission to blow him.

“no, no baby get up, we are cuddling, this is only about you.”

“but-”

“no buts, i'll go drop the towels in the hamper, and you better be waiting for me in bed.”

“yes lando” and with that lando collects all the dirty towels, and walks out the room.

you carefully stand up, and walk over to the full length mirror to check yourself out, the plug reminding you each step of the way that it's fully in you. carefully you bring your hands to your ass and spread it open, the little orange diamond shining nicely between your cheeks.

still with a careful step you walk over to your wardrobe and pick out one of landos shirts to wear. slowly you make your way to the bed, the plug now feeling very comfortable, almost like it isn't there, until you sit down, where you feel the plug penetrate you deeper, making you let out a little moan.

now you carefully lay down and roll yourself onto your stomach, making sure the plug stays in place, and is visible to lando. “fuck, baby, you will be the death of me” he says, entering your shared room, making you smile in return, “i can't wait for when you are ready to take my cock.”

“it will only be a few weeks, now come and join me” you say, without hesitation lando walks over to you, kissing you on the side of the head, and laying down next to you, pulling you up to his chest, so you can comfortably lay on him. after a few minutes of gentle kisses, both of you fall asleep cuddling.

time skip

“baby wake up, it has been 15 minutes since we inserted the plug, we need to remove it.” he speaks, with gentle kisses littering your face to try and wake you up.

you cry out in protest, “but lan, it feels very good!”, now slowly raising yourself with your arms.

“baby, it's your first time. i don't want to risk an injury, you can continue laying down, just please let me get it out.” he says gently, moving to place a pillow under your hips, “can i?” he asks before starting anything.

“alright” you say annoyed, you feel him move his hands to your ass, where he gently spreads you open, and with one hand grabs onto the base of the toy, with a gentle and slow tug, the toy comes out, making you whine in protest from the feeling of now being empty.

lando gently spanks your ass, making you face him, “don't worry baby, as soon as you can take me, you can have me for entire days” he says, making your cheeks heat up. “also, we are repeating this tonight, you said it needs to be done twice per day.”

time skip

“don't do your night routine just yet!” lando interrupts you moving to the bathroom, you give him a confused glance.

“we need to do it for another 15 minutes” he says while moving you back to the bed.

“i forgot, but now i can see who's the eager one!”, you pull down your underwear before grabbing a pillow and laying yourself down. “can we please do it in the same way as this morning?”

he gently pecks the side of your head, “of course we can baby”.

time skip

doing it alone, when lando leave for work, with a larger size, on call with him, i’m a bit scared, i would prefer you here with me

“baby, you don’t have to do it alone, you can wait for me to come back”

“yes i know lan, but i don’t want to lose any of the progress” you mumble at the screen, where your boyfriend is staring back at you. “i wish you were here”

“i mean-” he smiles, “you can prop your phone up, so i’ll kinda be there with you” making you stop for a second, and heat rising to your cheeks.

biting your lip, you start walking faster to your bedroom, where you prop your phone up against a pillow. swiftly you undress, and grab all the supplies.

“baby, you know you don’t have to use a larger size”

“i know, but i want to feel you as soon as possible” you whine to him, while laying down a towel. “do not even joke about me being the eager one, i can see your little problem”

“little, is that why it’s taking us so long to have anal?” he exclaims.

“i mean this is the last plug before we can try, are you excited?”

“of course i am” he assures, “i just wish i was here with you, but someone is too impatient”

“i can always hang up”

“no-” he scrambles to grab his phone, “don’t you dare”

“i won't” you whisper, gently laying down on the towel, making sure lando can see what you are doing. “can you walk me through it?”

“i can” he smiles, “first hold the plug in your hand for a moment so it warms up, while you are waiting for it to get warm, grab the lube and spread it on your fingers, carefully circle your hole, and slowly insert one finger at a time, baby please don’t rush it” he scolds.

“sorry lan” you slow down your pace, pulling a moan from yourself.

“once the second finger feels comfortable, apply the lube to the plug, and slowly, and i mean slowly start inserting it”

“ok, ok i get it” carefully you remove your fingers, and grab the bottle of lube again, squeezing out a generous amount to add to the plug. while lando observes your every move. “i think i’m ready”

“if you say so baby, just go slow, and it will be fine” he moans while stroking himself.

“i know” you confirm, moving the tip of the plug to your entrance, and slowly applying more and more pressure, having the plug enter you at a steady pace. “lan, idk if it will fit” you whine to your boyfriend.

“just relax baby, take a deep breath, you can pause however many times you need and for as long as you want”, “just breathe baby”

“i know, but it feels like it wont fit”

“it will, i can see it from here, you are closer than you think, i swear”, “just take a few deep breaths” with lando coaching you through you managed to get the last bit in, “see you did it baby”.

you breath heavily nodding your head yes, “while i wait, can you tell me about your day lan?”

he smiles “i can baby”

time skip

“are you nervous?” he questions, giving you a peck on the lips.

“a bit, but i'm more excited” you speak with a smile, “come lets go!” you practically drag him to the bedroom. once there he grabs you by your hips and turns you around, slowly walking you over to the bed to lay you down, him following behind.

“i want you in missionary, i want to see your pretty face while i fuck you in the ass for the first time.”

the words making a smile appear on your lips, “then what are you waiting for?”

softly he kisses down your jaw, removing both of your shirts and kissing to the waistband of your pants, “lift your hips”, without hesitation you lift your hips while he takes off your final bit of clothing.

“can we start?”

“yes” and with your confirmation lando applies lube onto his fingers, and then carefully on your hole, making sure he covers every inch in you, so as to not cause any discomfort.

once he is done with you, he carefully removes his fingers from you and applies more lube to his hand, with which he pumps himself, “tell me if anything hurts?”

“you know i will.” lando lines himself up with your entrance, giving you a glance, which you only nod at, he brings one of his hands up to yours and intertwines your fingers together, so he carefully applies pressure, and slowly starts entering you.

you gently give a squeeze to his palm, making him stop all his movement, “did i hurt you?”

“no, i just need a second to adjust” making him breath out, carefully he moves his head closer to yours giving you a peck on the cheek. lando straightens back up, “you can continue”, and so he carefully resumes his movement, soon his full length is in you, where he stops again in order to give you some time to adjust.

“you did it baby” he whispers carefully moving towards your face to give you another peck on the lips.

“can you please move?” you ask between the kisses he is peppering onto your face. still carefully he lightly starts grinding his hips against your, making you moan.

“yeah, is that good?”

“please be a bit faster and rougher.” and with that lando quickened his pace, pulling a moan from both of you with each thrust. “just like that” you praise him, “i'm close” you breathe out.

“me too baby” and with a few more thrust, you can feel lando twitch and his cum filling you, which brings you to your own release. he gently pulls out from you, stopping a moment to watch his cum drip out.

both of you panting heavily, “baby, we have to do this again!”, only making you nod in return.

after steadying your breath lando speaks up, “come let us go and shower, and then cuddle” with that, lando picks you up in his arms, and sets you down in the shower, making sure to let the water warm up before getting you wet, and yashing you with your favourite body wash.

“come baby, i know it feels nice but we can't stay under the hot water for forever” he gently prys you out, only to wrap you up in a big towel.

“wish we could” you say through a yawn. he gently grabs your hand and pulls you towards your shared bed, making you drop your towel to the ground, and get under your warm covers with him following behind.

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rkvriki · 2 years ago

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ things that make their heart flutter

HI I KNOW I'M BARELY ACTIVE ON THE TIMELINE IM SO SORRY LMAO. something really intersting is coming very soon so keep an eye out hehe!!! make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! mentions of hoon feeling down; my inspiration to write this was very low so the las ones ended up being longer than the first three im so sorry :'); mentions of won being stressed; ni-ki not being proud of himself :(

word count: 1.5k

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG !

– kissing him when he’s still half-asleep

the sun rays started shining through the curtains, hitting your eyes. you slowly opened them trying to adjust to the strong (late) morning light. it had been a long week and you needed to sleep as much as you could, giving your body the rest it needed. you stretched your body before turning to the side, seeing your boyfriend still asleep with his arms stretched by his head. you smiled softly at the sight before you, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. when you pulled back you watched as his eyes fluttered, still in between sleep and reality. heeseung opened his eyes, trying to look at you, but sleep was stronger than him and his eyes closed back again. you let out a quiet laugh and leaned down to kiss his pouty lips this time. the corners of his lips twitched upwards and his cheeks were getting warmer, making you chuckle at him before kissing his cheek and getting up to start your day.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG !

– looking at him from across the table

you and jay had been invited to a dinner with all of your friends. it was in a very fancy restaurant. high ceilings and big chandeliers. you were sat with your girlfriends while he sat with his friends, further from you. you hadn’t seen them in what felt like forever, work had been keeping all of you busy now that the year was ending. you were all engaged in a conversation, keeping up with everything going on with each other and spilling the latest gossip at work. you were so immersed in the conversation you kind of forgot jay was there too and this wasn’t just a casual dinner with your friends so you looked behind you and saw jay with his sleeves rolled up, laughing with his own friends. it was in moments like this you wondered how you had scored a man like this. too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice jay looking back at you. when his eyes made contact with yours, you playfully winked at him, making him look away while blushing, making you laugh at his behaviour as you tuned back into the conversation.

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN !

– brushing his hair away

it was one of those peaceful days where both you and jake had a day off from work. jake had slept over at your house and you two spent the whole day basically doing nothing but enjoying each other company, which is something rare since lately he’s had a busy schedule because comeback is just around the corner. you had a whole movie marathon planned for the day and you were already on your fourth movie. the clock had just hit 7pm and you were starting to feel sleepy. jake was currently lying with his head on your lap as you were sat with your legs spread on the couch. you looked down at him, seeing him focused on the movie, his cheeks flushed from sleepiness. you smiled softly at the sight, your hand making its own way down to his cheek, caressing the soft skin. he looked up at you, smiling softly as he tried to rub the sleep off his eyes. his hair was falling on his eyes so your hand moved upwards to brush his hair away from his eyes. he closed his eyes at the touch as he felt his cheeks warm up and his heart flutter at the simple yet affectionate action.

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON !

— running your hands through his hair as he speaks

today had been a long day for sunghoon. everything felt like it was going wrong. from the way his day started with him forgetting to bring his umbrella and getting soaked on his walk from work, him continuously making mistakes during dance practice to him spilling his drink he had ordered along with some food for lunch. his day was not bound to go well and he had already accepted his fate. he was so frustrated with himself. hoe could he keep making stupid mistakes during rehearsal? even though everyone kept reassuring him it was fine to have off days he just couldn’t be easy on himself. he just needed nothing but spend time with you and feel your confronting presence. sunghoon was currently lying down in your bed as you sat on the edge of it by his head. you were letting him ramble about his day. since the moment he stepped inside your house you knew something was up with him and if you didn’t insist on him he would just bottle all those feelings up. he was ranting about all his unpleasant events of the day as you looked down at him with a soft gaze. as he spoke he felt your hand starting to caress his hair until it was running smoothly through its strands, making him stutter his words. you laughed at him as he covered his face, hiding his blushing cheeks.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO !

– the way you stare at him when he speaks

sunoo is a very talkative person and he isn’t ashamed of it. he loves talking about the things he loves and sharing them with you. every time he is telling you about something that happened to him he will not miss any details. you obviously didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk and you would do it for hours (as if you didn’t already). every time you didn’t see each other for a long time, like when he went on tour he would tell you everything that happened while he was abroad. it was happening today. sunoo had just come back from tour and you both missed each other more than anything so you took a day off to spend together. you both walked through the centre of the city, walking by the river as you watched all the people gathered there. you went shopping and stopped by a plush store and sunoo literally begged you to let him buy you one just because it resembled you. now, you were both taking a break in a cafe, eating every kind of pastry while drinking hot drinks as sunoo told you funny stories that happened during their concerts. you watched as he spoke with such a happy face, showing just how much he loved what he did. your head was propped in your hand as you stared at him lovingly. he stopped talking, hiding his blushing cheeks, scolding you for looking at him in such a manner. you just smiled and leaned forward to leave a peck on his lips.

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON !

– holding his hand when he’s stressed

being a leader is probably the hardest position to be in a group, especially when you’re a young one. now, jungwon loves being a leader, he loves to know that the members rely on and trust him like no one, but when he is expected to give speeches wherever they go, it gets him really anxious and even stressed. he’s done it multiple times and he almost always used to it, but sometimes, like today, he needs to talk to a bigger crowd in a bigger event. he’s been restless for the whole day, reading his script over and over again, trying to memorize it. you heard it so many times you could probably do the speech yourself without looking at the paper. he was sitting next to you on a couch backstage. his leg was bouncing up and down and he was sighing way too many times. you were getting worried he would get it all wrong just because of stupid nerves. you grabbed his hand, making him still in his movements. he looked at you and you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, making him smile and nod at you appreciating the comfort you were trying to bring him.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RI-KI !

– communicating without words

ni-ki loved performing more than anything in this world. it was what he did for a living and he couldn’t be more grateful for that. everyone, even without an artistic eye, could tell he was damn good at what he did, but somehow, he was never proud of his work. he would always point out flaws here and there that nobody noticed. he was too hard on himself and it made you sad that he couldn't see how good he does when he’s on stage. today was an important performance for him, he was going to have a solo dance project and he had been practicing so hard for it there was no way he would make a mistake. ni-ki had invited you to watch the recording and you gladly accepted. you watched him as he danced with the two backup dancers with such good chemistry. when the recording wrapped up he had to walk straight to an interview. he was walking past you and from the looks of it he wasn’t too happy with the result of things. he turned to look at you, seeing you nod proudly at him as you silently clapped and gave him a thumbs up with a grim, making him smile as looked down to the floor, visibly flustered and warmed up cheeks.

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penkura · 4 months ago

Note

Hello this is my first request for your page so if it's alright can you do "everyone knows" from the Sanji fic but make it Ace instead? Thank you!

Hi omg, I'm so sorry this has taken so long, I had to take my time because I kept getting ideas on how to do this one, and it's finally done for you!! I really hope you'll enjoy how it turned out, I love Ace and want to write even more for him, he deserves it. 💚

This is an AU; Sabo, Luffy, and Ace are in constant contact, and no Marineford issues (despite it being my favorite arc). 😌 Please enjoy everyone! (its also 7.1k words i'm so sorry)

“I told you to be careful, you know.”

“I know that, Marco. You’re not helping!”

The whine you give while Marco pats your head makes him laugh at the same time, repeating what he’s just told you as you sink further into the chair in his office. You can’t believe you let this happen, that he was right to tell you and Ace be careful when you started dating. Neither of you really understood what he meant back then, but you sure do now.

“You’re definitely pregnant. Looks like…about seven weeks, almost eight,” Marco smiles to himself when you whine again, face hidden in your hands, “I don’t see anything to be worried about, you both look completely healthy so far.”

You’re screwed, you just know it. It’s only been a few months, you and Ace haven’t even had a chance to discuss marriage or babies or anything like that. You’ve just been dating and having fun with each other.

A little too much fun it seems, considering the—what should be--good news Marco’s given you today. It really should be good news, the whole crew has waited so long for you and Ace to get together, hearing you’re pregnant would just excite every one of them.

You should be happy too, but there’s too many worries and fears taking over your mind at the moment to be excited and happy about having a baby with Ace. You two danced around your feelings for each other for so long, that no one would be surprised if you made this announcement. You’ll never know about the betting pools going on, everyone trying to figure out when you’ll either get married or have a child, and now it looks like the latter is going to net someone a decent amount of cash. (Its Marco who wins, don’t worry about it if he gets your baby something really nice.)

You bury your face in your hands, Marco just watches you at first, before sighing to himself. He’s watched you and Ace avoid the obvious feelings you had for each for years now, so when you confided to him that you were going to finally tell Ace, soon after the fire user said the same thing to him, Marco was happy for you both and your biggest supporter, he knew you guys would he happy together and he’s been right so far.

He's not at all surprised by your sudden pregnancy, you and Ace aren’t sneaky at all and he’s been expecting this for a while now. Your reaction though, tells him that you guys probably haven’t even discussed having kids or anything like that at all. It makes sense that you wouldn’t yet, it’s still early in your relationship, that helps explain your reaction. The way you have your face buried in your hands like you’re trying to hide from the world or wake up from what seems like a good but bad dream.

You probably do wish it was the flu now.

“Hey,” you peek between your fingers to see Marco crouched in front of you, one hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “You and Ace will be great parents. I know you guys didn’t plan this, but everything will be fine. I’ll make sure of that as your and this baby’s doctor.”

It almost makes you cry, though you stop yourself. You remove your hands from your face, still hanging your head when you speak up.

“…I’m scared Ace will be mad…”

“At you? Never in a million years,” Marco chuckles lightly while patting your knee, “He’d throw himself in the ocean before he got angry at you, especially since he had a part in this. Takes two to make a baby and you’re only one half of the equation.”

You know Marco is right, Ace would never get mad at you over something he had a hand in. While he may not be as excited when you tell him, you aren’t sure just what his reaction will be yet, but you know there’s no way he’ll be yelling at you like it’s your fault. Maybe Ace will be happy and excited, maybe he’s just never said he wants kids or hasn’t thought about it since you’re both still only twenty. It’s likely not in the front of his mind or something he’s thought about, you’ll have to try talking about it later with him, once you’ve settled down and worked out how to bring this up.

“…what if he doesn’t want this?”

“Do you want this?”

You stay quiet for a moment before nodding.

“I’ve…I’ve wanted to have my own family…ever since my parents and brothers died.”

“That’s all that matters then.”

You’ve been with the Whitebeard Pirates for so long, ever since you were twelve, but you still hadn’t told many of them about how you’d lost your family. The hurricane that swept through your home island and ruined countless lives while taking just as many, you were one of the lucky few to survive but at the cost of your parents and older brothers. You were beyond lucky when the Whitebeard Pirates showed up, you clung onto Pops like he was your savior and he just had to let you come along, you weren’t going to let go otherwise. Marco and Izo became your favorite people immediately, Thatch following soon after when he gave you a sweet to try. Everyone quickly accepted you as their new little sister, you hadn’t felt such felt love since you’d lost your family and don’t think you could ever leave them now.

Then when Ace joined you were instantly head over heels for him, it took him a bit before he felt the same for you but neither of you could ever view the other as a sibling like you did the rest of the crew, it didn’t feel right even when you first met. Good thing too otherwise this would be very awkward right now.

“All right,” Marco nods and goes back to a cabinet, digging through it, “We’ll keep this between you and me, we won’t tell Pops until you’ve told Ace. We’ll get with Thatch though so he can keep alcohol from you and start you on a meal plan to make sure you and the baby have everything you need. And I want you to start taking these pre-natal vitamins, okay?”

You nod when Marco hands you a bottle of vitamins, you’re still nervous and worried about how Ace will react, but you have some time to think. He’s off seeing Luffy right now with a stop by to visit Sabo planned, he’d told you yesterday over a call that it’d be another week or so before he gets back, you have time to get used to this and plan how to tell him.

Marco pats your head, giving you a smile when he sees you tighten your grip on the bottle.

“Everything will be okay, no matter what happens.”

“I know…thanks, Marco.”

“Anything for you. Now,” you return his smile and start to feel a little better about the whole situation, especially when Marco speaks again, “Let’s go do an ultrasound, hm?”

+!+

Marco keeps your first sonogram images in his office, away from others who might see and spoil the surprise before you even get to tell Ace your news. Thatch is the only other person who knows right now, he’s excited for you and has a meal plan ready by the end of the day you tell him, no one really questions it when you don’t have alcohol at dinner. You really only drank when Ace was around because he’d always get you back to his room safely, so no one questions it when you aren’t given any drinks apart from water at any meal.

Nothing really changes for now, apart from Marco wanting to check on you every few days to make sure everything still looks good and so far it does. None of your crewmates question this either, knowing you haven’t been feeling well and believing that Marco is just taking extra precautions and ensuring you haven’t caught anything severe. You promise anyone who asks that everything is okay and you’re fine, just getting over whatever illness made you sick.

You’re able to keep it all a little secret between you, Marco, and Thatch for the time being, and it continues to be that way even when Ace finally returns to you and the Moby Dick. You’re busy with Marco when he gets there, not for an appointment but to figure out what needs restocked on the ship, but Ace seeks you out once he’s finished talking to Whitebeard and others about Luffy and Sabo, running to you and shouting your name once he sees you.

It makes you anxious for a moment but so beyond happy to see him again. Once he gets to you, Ace scoops you up in his arms and hugs you so tight, you do the same and laugh while he tells you just how much he missed you. You think you probably missed him more, this was the first time he’d gone off to see his brothers since you started dating, it was rough even before you learned you were pregnant, you’re sure the hormones are what made the last week and a half even worse.

Ace drags you off to his room once he’s greeted everyone, you two need some time together and he’s desperate for it, you’re the one he thought about every day that he was gone and when he hears you were sick most of the time he was gone, his shoulders drop and he frowns. He hates that he wasn’t there to help you recover, but he’s glad you all have Marco around when any of you get sick or injured. The smile you have makes Ace feel better about it though, even when he noticed something there that he can’t quite place but it looks like anxiety or nervousness.

“You’re okay now though, yeah?”

“Mm-hm!” You nod, making Ace smile again as he wraps his arms around you, causing you to fall back on his bed with a laugh as he buries his face in your shirt, “Marco made sure of it, so you don’t have to worry about getting sick. I’m all yours today~”

“Good,” Ace barely notices you flinch a little when he presses his face into your stomach, but he thinks it’s probably that you’re not as fully recovered as you’re claiming, “As long as I can just lay here with you now~ I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Ace.”

You’re really glad he’s back, honestly. You were fine the first day Ace was gone but the next day you were more emotional and felt oddly lonely without him around, even with the others around. Ace has always been the brightest part of your days, even before you started dating he was the one who would find you first every morning just to greet you with a grin, making your stomach do flips for a while before you got used to it.

“Hey,” Ace looks up at you just enough to see your face while you run your fingers through his hair, giving you a sleepy smile, “What…do you think about having kids…?”

He's surprised by your question, but stays quiet for a minute, having to really think about it. Ace hasn’t ever thought it was a good idea for him to be a father, he’s never really thought that he’d be good at it or that he should even think about it, but he also knows about how much you want to have a child one day, to have your own family. The few times you two would talk about your pasts and your futures, while he’d told you who his real father was and you’d explained how you joined up with the Whitebeard Pirates, though Ace didn’t really have a plan for his future you always said how much you wanted to have kids of your own. He knows it mostly stems from having lost your biological family when you were younger, before you two ever met, and he respects your wants and desires.

But he’s just now sure about how he fits into that, if he wants that himself.

“I…don’t know…what about it?”

“I mean,” you shrug a bit as Ace starts to sit up, looking like he’s thinking but also concerned, hopefully he hasn’t figured you out from that one question, “It…could be fun right? To be parents one day…”

Ace doesn’t say anything, it makes you more nervous that you were about bringing it up, but you keep a smile on your face as you keep talking.

“Maybe one day, a little girl with your personality or a boy who looks just like you. I think I’d like that. We can raise them here with everyone, and your brothers—”

“I don’t think I want kids,” he doesn’t look at you when saying that, like he’s expecting you to end your relationship there since he knows your hopes for the future, but he’s hoping that’s not the case, “I just…I don’t want them to suffer because of me, or my past.”

“Ace, they wouldn’t—”

“Can we not talk about this now? I’m tired and I just want to spend time with you…”

Even though all you do is nod, it makes you feel sick that you can’t talk about this right now. You knows he’s tired, he needs to rest after having been gone and just getting back that day, but it still makes you more anxious than you already were. Ace lays next to you again, quiet himself, but he pulls you into a hug and kissed your forehead, hoping that he hasn’t upset you or anything. He really hasn’t, you kind of expected him to shut down any talk about having kids right now, it shouldn’t be in your minds yet but the fact you’re already pregnant has you thinking about it constantly. You were hoping to get this discussed and settled right away, but maybe you should’ve waited until he was back for a day or two, instead of the day he got back. Maybe of you gave him some time to relax before you brought it up, you wouldn’t be feeling like you’re about throw up right now.

Actually, you’re sure it’s morning sickness combined with the anxiety and worry now, your stomach isn’t calming down and you have to push Ace away to get out of his bed.

“I don’t feel good,” Ace tilts his head as you move to leave, confused and now worried you’re still sick, “I…feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

“Hey,” Ace grabs your wrist when you try to run off, concern on his face when you don’t look at him, “Are you okay? You’re still sick?”

“Mm,” you nod before giving him a small smile, but it makes Ace even more concerned though he does let you go, “Just…gonna run to Marco, I’ll be back!”

“Okay then…”

Ace doesn’t follow you out of his room, just watching you go as you close the door. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on, but believes you when you say it’s because you still aren’t well. He knows Marco will take care of you and get you back to 100% in no time, though he wonders if what he said about maybe not wanting kids is the cause. He knows he might change his mind later on, maybe, but right now, he’s not confident that it’s something he wants. He doesn’t want anything like what happened with his own parents to happen to you and your child, it wouldn’t be fair to you or them if anything were to happen to him.

He knows it might become a make or break deal later on, but he hopes and prays he has time to really think about it and make a decision before you just end your relationship. But he also hopes you wouldn’t do that for this one thing, even if it means you have to make a compromise somewhere. Whatever that might be Ace isn’t sure, hopefully it’ll be years down the road before you have to make any kind of decision together about it.

For now, he’s going to unpack his bag while you’re gone, his whole focus being on you and getting some much needed alone time together had distracted him. He had to get somethings put away and a few gifts for you hidden for your birthday later on.

Especially the engagement ring Luffy and Sabo helped him pick out for you. He can’t let you see that quite yet.

You don’t go to Marco actually, you run for the nearest bathroom and try to keep quiet, you don’t want Ace to hear you and get more worried. He probably thinks you’re just getting Marco to help your stomach calm down and you’ll go back to him, but the whole situation has you upset even when you kept that from him.

He's not sure he wants kids, why should he be? You’ve heard his story, you know who his biological father was, you understand why he wouldn’t be sure about it. Ace knows your plans to have kids, to be a mother one day, and he’s always respected that, he’s told you he thinks you’ll be great at it. He’s never believed it should be with him, even though he’s not told you that, you wonder if he thinks he’s not good enough for that kind of life.

It makes you feel worse to think about that, to think he doesn’t believe he deserves to have a family one day.

Of course he’s not sure about having kids, why would he be? We’re only twenty and we’ve only been together a few months, damn it.

It makes sense to you, it does, but you really had thought that maybe you two starting a relationship would let Ace see you want that with him, no one else. Before you found out you were pregnant you thought maybe the two of you could adopt if something came up where Ace didn’t want biological children or you couldn’t have kids yourself.

But things have changed and you just have to hope that Ace will think about it more than he has.

You quickly wash your face and rinse your mouth several times before you leave and decide to check with Marco anyway, but end up running right into Izo before you get too far. The concerned look he gives you makes you nervous as you laugh and apologize for running into him.

“Hey, Izo, what’s u—”

“Are you pregnant?”

Your eyes widen just a bit, before you laugh nervously and wave your hands, trying to brush it off while he looks at you. He knows and you’re scared he’ll tell Ace, so you try to lie your way out.

“W-what?!” You score and glance away, it only makes him narrow his eyes at you, “No…who told you that?? That’s so ridiculous! I’m not—”

“Why are you still sick then? Marco said you should be well by now.”

“W-Well—”

“This all started while Ace was gone, yes?” You start to shrink away, leaning against the wall as Izo watches you start to let your walls about it down, sliding yourself to the floor, “You’ve been sick for weeks now if that’s the case.”

“It…it’s the flu, I’m not—"

“Its not the flu, its morning sickness, isn’t it?” Izo sighs to himself as you keep looking away, he can’t believe he didn’t notice it sooner, “Did you forget I was around when Lady Toki was pregnant and gave birth? I know it was a long time ago but I do remember such things!”

That had slipped your mind, Izo probably would have kept this secret for you too if you’d told him. You slightly nod, Izo isn’t shocked, he was one of the people betting you’d have a baby before getting married anyway, but he’s wondering more about how long you’ve known about this and starts to question you about your surprise pregnancy and if Ace knows yet. When you shake your head at that answer, he raises an eyebrow before a thought hits him and he nods.

“You found out while he was away then.”

“Yeah…I didn’t…I honestly thought I just had the flu or something.”

“I see. When—”

“Please, Izo, don’t tell anyone. I…I’m going to tell Ace in a few days, I swear, I just don’t want anyone else to know before he does…”

The pleading look you give him makes Izo sigh but with a light smile as he nods. He’d never take that away from you, allowing you to make your own decision on when and how to tell Ace about your pregnancy. It’s soon, probably sooner than you ever thought it would be, but he can already imagine you and Ace being amazing parents, how everyone is going to dote on your baby and help raise them. It’s been so long since there’s been a baby on board, he wonders if anyone remembers how to even care for a baby let alone hold one properly, but Izo also knows that once it’s out to everyone, Marco will start helping prepare everyone for this change.

“Everyone will be happy for you two.”

“…I’m just hoping Ace will be happy…”

“He will be,” before you can say anything else Izo takes your hand and helps you stand back up right, giving you a hug, “It may take him a bit, but I know Ace will be happy to have a child with you, even if he’s not sure about it yet. Everything will be fine.”

Part of you wishes people would stop saying that, but you’re also glad for all the reassurances from those who know. They’re more positive than you ever could have expected or asked for, they give you hope that Ace really will be excited when you tell him, despite what he said earlier about how unsure he is regarding having children.

Everything will be okay, even if it might be as while before everyone is settled and accepting. What’s more important is that you tell Ace soon and get his reaction, after that you can worry about what to do next.

Izo questions you a bit more after that, before letting you go back to Ace, he just wants to be completely up to date on everything and know how he can help. All you ask is again that he doesn’t tell anyone, that’s all you need right now.

You’ll tell Ace soon, then everyone else. You won’t keep it private too much longer.

+!+

A few days later at dinner, everyone is getting rowdy and drinking, celebrating your birthday and everyone making you laugh more than normal. It helps you forget about your worries regarding you’re pregnancy, you’ll ignore it for now and focus more on the smiles and pecks on the cheek Ace gives you every now and then, your attempted conversation forgotten about for the time being. Ace told you he’d think more about it, and you said you wouldn’t push him or anything like that. The compromise is enough for now for both of you, even with your secret, you aren’t going to worry too much right now, not until you’re ready to tell him.

Tonight you aren’t going to think about it, you’re focused on your family celebrating you, everyone so happy to still have you around and giving you the gifts they carefully picked for you. Ace said he’ll give his gift to you later, some people end up taking it the wrong way and give whistles and shouts, making you roll your eyes as your face heats up. It makes Ace laugh before he plants a kiss on your cheek again, promising it’s something better than what everyone else thinks.

When Thatch comes by with drinks, he makes sure once again to keep alcohol away from you, passing you a water that you accept gratefully and it makes Ace furrow his brow.

“You’re not drinking again?”

You shake your head, giving a smile.

“Not today, I want to remember everything.”

“One drink wont knock you down, you can handle it!”

“I--no, I’m okay, Ace, really!”

No one says anything about it, instead staying deep in their own conversations. Ace doesn’t understand why you’ve been abstaining so much lately, every time he tries to get you to drink you reject it, it makes him wonder if something happened while he was gone that made you stop entirely. You haven’t told him anything, neither has Marco or anyone else, maybe you’ve just decided to cut back heavily for some other reason.

Ace lets it go for a bit, before he gets another drink and tries once more to get you to take just a sip from his cup. He questions you again when you shake your head, but before you can say anything, you hear Teech laugh and make a suggestion that makes you freeze up.

“Ha, maybe she’s pregnant!”

It makes Ace rolls his eyes, not noticing that you’re anxiously looking at him, like you expect him to know just from that.

“No she’s not, shut up.”

“I’m just saying it’s possible,” Teech takes a drink, while you pray he doesn’t say anything more or Ace just doesn’t take anything he says to heart, “We’ve all seen her sneaking out of your room most nights anyway!”

It's starting to get to you, you never cared if anyone else saw you slipping out of Ace’s room or the two of you leaving together in the mornings. No one ever said anything or made any comments, most of them did it out of respect for your privacy, though some did make suggestive faces towards you both early on, it’s all stopped over time. It’s quickly been replaced by everyone treating you both normally, the bets you don’t know about taking over private conversations for the time being.

Well, its stopped by everyone but Teech now. You’d usually be embarrassed by talk of your sex life but the comment about your still unrevealed pregnancy makes you upset, to the point you’re starting to get mad more than anything and glaring at Teech to try and make him stop talking before anything comes out too early.

“Shut up, Teech.”

“What? Everyone knows you and Ace have been going at it like—”

“I said, shut up!”

Everyone quiets as you yell, those who had been listening understand what exactly is going on but don’t say anything yet. Ace jumps when you slam your hands on the table and stand up, he’s never seen you set such an awful glare on someone like you are Teech right now, but it makes the wheels in his head start to turn and he starts piecing everything together. You never get this upset about some teasing, even if it’s a joking suggestion that you might be pregnant. Another crewmate made a joke about it early on, before you and Ace ever even slept together the first time, and it made you laugh, commenting back about how your parents were right, kissing boys made you pregnant.

But this time you’re visibly angry about it, it’s an obvious joke from Teech, he’s always been the one to make crude comments about sex and relationships, you and Ace have never been spared from this, especially when everyone figured out you started having sex. While some gave you two looks, Marco telling you to be careful (that worked out well), and Teech making comments you don’t dare repeat and have tried to wipe from your memory. Ace did everything he could to make it stop, you both thought it was over with when you hadn’t heard anything in the last couple months, but for some reason, your reaction to the suggestion of pregnancy has you mad, so Ace has to stop and think.

Teech tries to defend himself as Ace keeps thinking, everything starting to make more sense and fall into place in his mind. You being sick for so long, asking about having kids, not drinking with him, you pushed him off you the other night when he started handsy and said you weren’t in the mood, which he respected but now he’s realizing what it is that made you stop him.

“…are you pregnant?”

Ace is quiet when he asks, but it’s what gets you out of your anger, making you look back at him and he sees the tears starting to form in your eyes. Marco tries to step in, telling you to settle down because this isn’t good for you, getting worked up and stressed. You look so upset, while Ace is in shock and just staring at you, everyone around you two has completely quieted and looks between you two.

You can’t even bring yourself to speak, this isn’t how this was supposed to go, you weren’t ready to tell him yet! It was going to be a surprise when you did tell him, you had a plan, this isn’t fair!

“I…”

“Babe—”

“I’m sorry!”

You take off before Ace can say anything else, Marco calls for you but everyone else stays put. No one wants to be the first to say anything, they’re not sure if they should congratulate Ace or just keep their mouths shut, but eventually Marco sighs and sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

“Come with me.”

It takes Ace a moment before he can move, he knows he should’ve followed you out, he needs to know if you really are pregnant or if it’s just a suspicion you have, though the way Marco is acting tells him you have to be sure already. That’s probably why he wants to talk to him, Marco knows and is going to give Ace all the information he can, so he finally gives in and follows him out. Ace hates seeing you upset and crying, it’s not fair to you that this got out the way it did. He knows you, he’s sure you were planning something cute to do for your announcement, but now it’s all been ruined.

Ace feels sick, he’s upset for you, but he really needs to know how real this is, it could still be a misunderstanding. He’s pretty sure it’s not after the scene that just unfolded, but there’s still a part of him that thinks it might be as he follows Marco.

Once Ace and Marco leave, everyone lets out the breath they were holding before looking at Teech with glares. While some had their suspicions from how you’ve been acting, others had accidentally overheard you talking to Marco or Thatch about it, not one of them wanted to say anything. It wasn’t their place and they all knew you’d eventually say something when you were ready, or Ace would blurt it out at some point, they weren’t sure about how it would go.

All they knew was that it was now out there due to Teech and no one was happy about it.

“…I didn’t think she was actually pregnant.”

There’s several sighs and groans, while Izo and Thatch give the glares they could to Teech, causing him to shrink away just a bit for ruining your plans with his big mouth.

“Shut up, Teech.”

+!+

“She’ll be ten weeks along in a few days.”

“I can’t believe this…”

The sonogram image in his hands just makes Ace anxious yet excited, what he can’t believe is that it’s your baby he’s looking at, his baby on top of that. His heart is racing over this despite the sick feeling he has, this explains why you had asked him about having kids, why you’ve still had, what seemed to be, random bouts of sickness still, even though Marco had said you should be totally fine now.

But now it all makes sense. You haven’t been sick with the flu, you’re pregnant and it’s morning sickness that’s been getting to you so often. That’s why you rejected every time Ace tried to get you to drink, it’s why you didn’t want to do anything the other night, why you ran off the other day after you tried to ask about having kids.

He feels terrible that your secret got out, that you didn’t get the chance to tell him yourself, but looking at the sonogram he feels so excited.

“Do we know what—”

“Too early to tell the sex, in a few weeks we can do a blood test to see and then another sonogram later to confirm,” Marco smiles seeing Ace nod, it seems like he’s still coming to terms with this but he doesn’t look too upset, “She’s been worried about telling you, thought you were gonna get mad at her.”

“I’d never do that!”

“That’s what I said, but with this situation she wasn’t thinking straight.”

Hearing that makes Ace feel bad, you shouldn’t be that scared about telling him, he’s never yelled at you about anything. It’s not his personality and he hates the idea of hurting you that way, you two have always talked through any issues you’ve had and come to compromises or agreements, like you did recently with the whole having kids thing.

Oh.

Oh that explains why you ran off after asking and he said he didn’t want kids. You were scared and it made you sick, Ace realizes that makes so much more sense now. He should’ve tried to explain it better, that he wasn’t sure about having kids, not just that he flat out doesn’t want them. If you’d been able to talk about that sooner, maybe you would’ve been a little more careful not having to worry about this now.

“Ace, you know she’s wanted this forever now.”

Ace nods, still staring at the sonogram image. There’s so much you two have to discuss now, he needs to make sure you’re okay and that you know he’s not going anywhere. Even if he hadn’t planned to ask you to marry him, he’d still stick around hearing that you’re pregnant. He may not be sure of how good he’ll do as a dad, but if this is what you want, what you’ve always wanted, he’s going to stay with you and help you through everything. Nothing would change that, he really hopes you understand that already.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but—”

“I gotta go talk to her,” Ace stands up quickly and hands the sonogram back to Marco, “I gotta make sure [Y/N]’s okay and tell her I can’t wait for this.”

“Really? You’re okay with it?”

“Yeah, I…” sighing, Ace smiles a bit while Marco watches him, “I’m scared as hell I’m gonna screw up, but I think…I think we’ll be okay.”

“You’re not gonna screw up,” Marco laughs and pats his shoulder, “You guys have all of us here, we’ll make sure your kid doesn’t end up like you.”

“Hey—”

“You better go and talk to her, she’s been anxious about everything for almost two weeks now.”

“Yeah,” there’s a grin on his face as Ace nods once more, turning to leave, “I’ll take care of it, thanks Marco.”

+!+

Ace knows you ran off to his room to hide, even though its not the best place since again, it’s his room, but he’s not mad about it. You’ve always gone there when you were upset about something, this isn’t a surprise to him. You’ve mostly calmed down by the time he gets there, though you don’t look towards the door when you hear it open.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

Ace feels like his heart breaks when you sniffle, rubbing at your eyes and shrugging. He hates seeing you cry, always has, but he feels worse about it now than he ever has. You’re embarrassed and upset, you didn’t want someone else to blurt it out, he shouldn’t have tried getting you to drink as much as he did, maybe you could’ve told him later that night if he hadn’t. He feels like it’s all his fault this happened, though, he knows that it definitely is partly because of him that everything is going to change.

You’re pregnant, Ace really thought you guys were being careful and safe, but apparently not. Ace wonders if you didn’t tell him because you were scared or didn’t want to have a baby with him, maybe you thought he’d get mad at you and break up with you. He’d never do that but maybe you weren’t thinking straight after finding out, you got worried and let negative thoughts overtake your mind.

You should be happy and excited, not scared and worried, Ace realizes that. He starts to look around his room while you keep your eyes on the floor, expecting him to end your relationship or something like that.

“Ace—”

“We’re gonna have to find a place for a crib, huh?”

“…what?”

“Or, hm, what’s that other thing called?” Ace starts thinking, while you’re sitting there stunned and staring at him like he has two heads, “Oh…the bed for babies that sometimes looks all frilly and stuff…”

“A…a bassinet?”

“Yeah, that! We’re gonna have to move things around,” you give Ace a confused look as he starts trying to get an idea of how to rearrange the room, “Maybe…we can move the dresser to this other corner, our bed can go against this wall, and—”

“Wait stop, you…you’re okay with this?”

Ace gives you a grin, tilting his head.

“Should I not be?” he’s still grinning when he finally walks over, crouching in front of you and reaching a hand to your cheek, “A baby with the girl of my dreams…what could be better?”

“I…you said you didn’t—”

“I know, I know,” Ace nods with a small smile, he shouldn’t said something earlier but it was your birthday and he didn’t want to interrupt your day, “When you asked, I had already started thinking about it, but you just surprised me and I kind of…”

“Freaked out?”

“Ha, yeah, I guess so. It was like you could read my mind and I was worried you’d think it was too soon if I said yes.”

“Ace,” you roll your eyes a bit with a smile, “We had feelings for each other for how long before we got together?”

Ace laughs, nodding and knowing what you meant. It seems only natural that you two would skip a few steps and go right to having kids, you’ve known and loved each other long enough. What does it matter if you’re not married yet, who really cares?

He's still going to ask you to marry him, but right now, it’s not a major concern for either of you.

“Good point, but I was still worried. So…I kind of lied because I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You’d never scare me off, Ace.”

He nods again, smiling as you start to relax more, your own smile showing and it makes Ace happy to see you’ve calmed down some. He knows you’re still worried and anxious, but he hopes he can help you realize that it’s okay, he’s not mad or going to leave you. He’s staying with you, he's going to help you raise your baby no matter what happens, he’s going to protect the two of you and keep you safe.

“If it’s a girl, I hope she’s just like her mom.”

The comment doesn’t fully register at first, but it makes you roll your eyes again.

“If it’s a boy he’s going to be just like you, which means I’m in trouble.”

“Trouble?? You sure about that??”

You don’t get to respond back before Ace, carefully, hugs you tight and knocks you back onto his bed, making you laugh as he kisses your face and holds you close. Once you’ve both settled down, his comment about you having a girl finally hits you, you look up at Ace with a smile.

“You’re happy?”

“Of course I am,” the grin he gives almost makes you cry, but Ace stops that with another kiss before laying his head against your stomach, “Can’t believe our baby’s in there…you’ll be a great mom.”

It gets you more choked up, you can’t help it but don’t want to cry too loud. You don’t want Ace to think he’s upset you, so you stroke his hair a bit, taking a few breaths to calm yourself down before you speak again.

“You’re gonna be a great dad, Ace.”

Ace doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he hugs you a little tighter and quietly says he’ll do his best for the both of you, pressing a kiss to your belly.

“I won’t let you down, I promise.”

Although everyone on board knows now, you’re sure those who heard have spread it to everyone that wasn’t around or listening by now, you’ve still got to let Whitebeard know later. You know he’s definitely going to be happy for you and Ace, just like everyone else has been so far.

Ace eventually sits up and gives you a grin that makes you tilt your head at him.

“I’ve got to call Luffy and Sabo! They’re going to be so surprised!”

While Ace hurries off the bed to get his transponder snail and call his brothers, you shake your head with a laugh before you follow after him. The excitement you hear from the two over the receiver makes you both happy and more excited than you already were. You may not have been planning this to happen for a while longer, but you’ve accepted that it’s going to happen and you can’t wait to see how Ace is as a father.

You know he’s going to do his best and he’ll do everything to keep you both safe and happy.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #request

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