#but i had to decompress after my day it seems

[unusuallysubtext]

Hey, can I request a oneshot where Y/n (Mycroft's spouse) suddenly brought a puppy home; they found the puppy on the sidewalk. They brought the puppy home, cleaned him up, and then went to the pet store to buy supplies like dog food, toys, a bed, and a pad for the puppy to pee or poop on. They returned home with all the supplies.

Mycroft finally arrived home after a long day at work. He found Y/n on the floor and was confused at first until he saw the puppy they were playing with. He was perplexed and definitely against it at first, but a few weeks later, Y/n finds Mycroft in the living room with the puppy on his lap while Mycroft reads his newspaper.

Thank you in advance!

Thank you for your request! Requests are open as of 18/06/2024. Tags under the cut. To be removed/added to the taglist, send an ask or DM me.

Today was one of those rare days off you had from work, but as usual, it was never in sync with Mycroft's busy schedule. You had awoken to a cold bed with the sun already beaming through the crack in the curtains. With a sigh, you climbed out of bed and stretched, making your way downstairs. A vase of sunflowers stood on the kitchen counter, a card beside it on top of a box of London’s finest pastries.

Good morning, my love. 

Salon appointment at two p.m. 

Take care of yourself.

Love,

M.H.

You smiled, admiring the set up and the time taken out of Mycroft’s morning. Of course he had booked out an entire salon; nails, hair, facials, drinks…

After getting comfortably dressed (a change from your usual business attire), eager to eat more than a few pastries (it would be unfair to try only a couple, after all), you ran downstairs and popped the kettle on.

As you sipped your tea, you pondered how to spend the rest of your day until a car picked you up at one-thirty. The idea of a long walk around the estate seemed appealing, especially with the rare London sun. 

Spring coat and boots on, you set out for your walk. The streets were quiet unlike the bustling inner city, and she much appreciated the calm; it allowed for decompression after high stress days at your demanding job. As she turned a corner into a small park, she noticed a small bundle of fur huddled in the bushes fronting the blue-painted metal rails. Curiosity piqued, you approached cautiously.

To your surprise, it was a puppy, shivering despite the unusual warmth, alone. You were expecting a rabbit, likely dead after the foxes got to it, not an uncommon sight in this area. The little creature looked up at you with wide, fearful eyes. You kneeled, allowing your hand to be sniffed before you picked it up. Upon further inspection, it was only a couple of weeks old, the size of your hand, and bore no collar.

"Poor thing, you must be freezing," you murmured, stroking its soft fur as you held it close to your chest. "Let's get you home."

She made a quick stop at a nearby pet store and vet clinic, purchasing everything the puppy would need—food, a bed, toys, and a small collar, which you left unetched without a name, only your phone number on the back of the tag. 

By the time she arrived back at the house, her arms were full of supplies, and the puppy seemed much more comfortable in your breast pocket. The clinic had not detected a microchip, making you wonder how long the pup had been outside as you set up a cozy corner in the living room. You watched as the puppy explored its new surroundings, following you with tiny, tentative paw taps to the kitchen, where you poured some water and food into its bowls. 

"Mycroft is not going to like this," you thought out loud with a wry smile, imagining his reaction. But the sight of the puppy, now curled up contentedly in its new bed, made her feel certain she had made the right decision.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of playing with the puppy, canceling your salon appointment and ride through Anthea, and preparing dinner after the pup grew tired enough to fall asleep in its bed. As evening fell, you found yourself anxiously awaiting Mycroft's return, wondering how he would react to your new addition and fearing his disappointment of being unable to enjoy his planned day for you.

The grandfather clock struck once, indicating five-thirty and you arose from the dining table to head to the front door. You opened it to see Mycroft, who was pleasantly surprised at your greeting.

“Good evening, darling. How was your day?” he asked, heading in. His smile immediately turned to scrutiny as he sensed something was wrong. “You didn’t go… Why do you have cat hair on you?” Mycroft asked, looking at you.

“Dog, Mycroft,” you rolled your eyes. You weren’t anxious anymore, just keen to see Mycroft discover what you’d done. You followed him to the living room, where he froze at the sight of the sleeping puppy across from you.

“Y/N, what on earth were you thinking? How will you care for it?” Mycroft cried. He never called you by your name. Only ‘Mr/Miss/Mx L/N’ before marriage, and ‘my love’ and ‘darling’ after.

“Mycroft!” you were taken aback, but still attempted to explain your situation. “She was abandoned on the side of the road, no collar, no chip. I couldn’t leave her there!”

“Do you know how many shelters there are in London? One-thousand-two-hundred-and-twenty-seven! Any one of them would have taken it in.” Mycroft was exasperated. “Y/N, please think before making such decisions…” he trailed off, softening his tone and expression as he caught sight of your teary eyes. He walked to you, touching your cheeks and kissing your forehead. “I love you. I don’t love that,” he indicated to the puppy with his head. “I do not want this matter to cause any stress to our relationship. I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

You nodded, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. I’ll see what I can do about her as soon as possible.”

You understood where Mycroft was coming from. Both of you worked full-time, and taking care of a puppy who was rapidly transforming into a full-grown dog was like taking care of a toddler. She would need to be trained, spayed, played with for mental stimulation… it was going to be a lot.

While Mycroft showered, you heated up dinner. As the two of you ate, the puppy awoke and padded to the dining room, watching Mycroft curiously. The two of them stared at the other intently, frozen in place, and you watched in amusement. 

That night, you lay in bed on your side against Mycroft’s chest. It was a miracle that the puppy had not followed you upstairs, but was instead sleeping soundly in the living room. 

-

Mycroft had been sitting on the sofa after dinner, reading their mail while she tried to reach the seat beside him. Watching her struggle for a couple of minutes from the corner of his eye, he finally sighed and picked her up. She lay down next to Mycroft’s side, and he begrudgingly had let her. She fell asleep, as Mycroft mumbled, mostly to himself. “You don’t have a name, do you? You are rather annoying, going to places you don’t belong. Sofas are for humans, the dog bed, as implied in the name, is for you.” Mycroft thought for a moment, then chuckled in revelation. “Sheryl.” He seemed pleased with the name.

-

“Mycroft?” you say quietly, unable to see him. The curtains have been drawn for the night, the bed toasty from your combined body heat. 

“Hmm?”

“Are you jealous of her?”

There is a pause. “That is preposterous! Go to sleep,” you can feel him shaking his head as he is ripped from his near sleep.

You smile to yourself, turning around and kissing his cheek before drifting off to sleep.

-

Days went by, and you spent all of your lunch breaks and the extra ten minutes you had in the mornings at work calling animal shelters in London, despite the heartache. It would not be difficult at all to get the pup into one, just inhumane. Unsurprisingly, they were all overcrowded and underfunded. You glanced up from the website you were reading on your phone to the stack of paperwork overshadowed by your boss. You sighed.

“Working, are we, Mr/Mrs/Mx Holmes?” Ms Smallwood sneered, saying your name as if it were sour milk.

“Yes, apologies, ma’am. No excuses,” you said, grabbing a pen and opening the first file. 

Her beady eyes watched you for a moment before huffing and storming out on her four-inch heels.

You shot Mycroft a quick text.

Going to be late, sorry. Lots of paperwork, ughh. Can’t wait to get a transfer. - Y/F/I.H.

Don’t worry, my love. I’ll have dinner and a bath ready. Don’t stress, my darling. I shall see you this evening. - M.H.

You smiled at your husband’s preemptiveness, silently thanking the universe for having him to go home to. 

It was quarter-to-seven when you arrived home. You walked through the hallway past the empty study and dining room, the aroma of dinner making your mouth water. In the living room, you could see Mycroft, engrossed in reading the newspaper… out loud? Mycroft saw you, and hushed you, pointing to the sleeping puppy curled up against his belly. He finished reading one last sentence of today’s headlining news: ‘Two murdered bodies found in abandoned freezer at Wembley Sainsbury’s.’ 

“Goodnight, Sheryl, sleep well,” Mycroft said quietly, putting the newspaper down and patting her gently before picking her up and placing her in her bed. He then walked over to you. “Hello, darling, how was your day?” 

“Sheryl, huh?” you laughed.

“Too late to change it now, I have already had it engraved,” Mycroft said matter-of-factly. “I have already fed her–one cup–walked her around the estate, had her pee, and read her a bedtime story, of course.”

You squealed in joy, engulfing Mycroft in a hug. “We’re keeping her?!”

“Yes, of course we are, darling. How else will I keep in shape?”

“Oh, Mycroft! You’re already perfect. I love you! I can’t believe we get to keep her!”

Every night onwards, Sheryl lay in wait in front of the dinner table for the two of you to finish eating and take her for a walk. She would chase butterflies in the very park she was found in before returning to her home, where Mycroft would read her the headlines and let her pick her bedtime story from the papers. Some days it was stock trading tips, obituaries and juicy celebrity gossip, other days it was how her Uncle Sherlock was saving the arses of the Met Police, and gruesome murder-suicides. Every night, she fell asleep in Mycroft’s lap, even when she grew up to be a huge German shepherd. Every night, you snapped a picture of the two, compiling the photographs into an album that showed how their bond strengthened and their kinship blossomed.

-

Tagging: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @that-ace-idiot

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[luveline]

If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…” 

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 

“I do?” you ask finally. 

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 

[astarionancuntnin]

Midnight's Embrace

summary: you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the netherbrain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

rating: E

word count: 3k

pairing: astarion x you x halsin (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, late act 3 business, reader is tav, massage turning into something more, polyamory, reader is sandwiched between her two bfs, recreational drug use, stoned sex, mildly dubious consent due to drug intake (reader & astarion), praise kink, threesome, dry humping, blood/vampire bites, unprotected sex, anal fingering and penetration, double penetration, creampie, aftercare, overall sane safe and as consensual as one can be under the influence.

a/n: taking a smol break from my angsty writing to deliver some smut goodness. hope you enjoy! (i sure did)

a/n²: this is absolutely self-indulgent stuff and i will not be sorry about it. i wish i had two loving boyfriends fucking me while i was high, is that so much to ask

read on ao3

or keep reading down below ~

You can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep.

Since your arrival in Baldur’s Gate, your nights have been restless, and your anxiety related to your upcoming fight with the Netherbrain has only increased. It’s not uncommon for you to wake up sweating in the middle of the night, panting, and checking your surroundings. You feel as if you’re only one inconvenience away from crumbling and your lovers are worried about you. You keep trying to reassure them that you’ll be fine once the Netherbrain is dealt with, but they won’t hear you out; you’ve only ever taken care of your companions since the start. Everyone has found their peace but you. 

Halsin and Astarion urged you to start to focus on yourself, and you wanted to, but the truth is you had no idea where to start; you were used to taking care of everyone else, your own wellbeing never crossed your mind. One night, after Astarion feeds on you, he mentions how tense you are, and that he would gladly massage your neck to help with the tension you've accumulated. This makes you think about asking your other companions about their own techniques to decompress. Throughout the day, you ask around: “what do you do when you’re stressed out?” Shadowheart mentions that she meditates and stretches, and while it’s not a bad idea, with your mind constantly racing, you doubt you’d be able to easily meditate. Lae’zel mentions practice dueling, which she usually partakes with Wyll, and although it seems to be working for them, you wanna try to avoid more fighting before your upcoming fight. 

That’s when Halsin tells you about the medicinal benefits of some herbs, and how they could help you relax. Although you’ve never tried, you’re open to the idea; you’ll try anything that could potentially ease your night terrors. You spend the next day marching the streets to reach an herb shop. As you enter, a lady greets you cheerfully, offering her help to find you exactly what you need. They offered a great variety of consumables infused with their many strands available : pastries, desserts, drinks and potions, candies; if you could imagine it, they had it. The lady explains the effect each of their products have and their specialities. After looking around, you settle on a cookie with Midnight’s Embrace, a sleep inducing herb. You thank her and head back to the Elfsong for the night.

You finish your meal with the special cookie and soon after, you bid your companions goodnight before fetching your partners to accompany you through the night. After all, you still intend on holding Astarion to his word about that massage he mentioned the other night, and Halsin promised to be by your side as this was your first time consuming something like this.

You had reserved the room with the biggest bed they had, just for this occasion.  You reach for the bed first, lying comfortably on your chest, ready for your long-awaited massage. Halsin is next to join you, removing his shirt to get comfortable before sitting next to you with his back against the headboard, and Astarion joins soon after, kneeling behind you. The pale elf straightens up before laying his hands on your back, wasting no time to work through the knots in your tired muscles. The relief you feel is almost instant.

Halsin combs through your hair, pushing it aside to reveal your blissful face. “How are you feeling?”

“Sooooo good. A massage was the best idea.”

As it turns out, the massage combined with the herb-induced dessert enhanced each other, as the effect of the cookie you ingested earlier had already started settling in. When the lady mentioned they were “fast-acting”, you didn’t expect almost spontaneous-acting. Your skin feels more sensitive – in a good way – but you know that it’s the effect of the drugs, as if every touch was the softest caress you’ve received, and you found yourself leaning in the vampire's strong and graceful grip, only wanting more. As he makes his way to your lower back, a few unconscious moans escape your mouth before you can stop them. 

“I take it that you’re enjoying yourself, then?” Astarion asks, smiling, in response to your moaning.

“It’s just… your hands…” you sigh content, leaning into his touch. “They feel amazing.”

“I'm happy to provide, my love.”

His dexterous hands turn you to putty and you wish you could feel more, every inch of your body yearning for attention. He keeps working on your back while you reach out to Halsin, his much bigger hand holding yours tightly. You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him.

“I… want you to touch me too.”

“Tell me where you need me, my heart.”

“Can you hold me? I want to be held by you two.”

The two men look at each other in understanding before repositioning themselves on each side of you ; Astarion hugging your waist from behind, nuzzling himself in the crook of your neck, and Halsin sheltering you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours.

The effects of the cookie kept getting stronger : you felt lighter, more peaceful and happier, your mind was clear from any lingering anxiety, only taking in the love surrounding you. In the comfort of their arms, you let your hands roam over the archdruid's chest, exploring each crevasse. The drugs made you more sensitive, especially down there, and it doesn’t take you long to feel a familiar warmth pool down to your stomach. You gently rub your thighs together, chasing the feeling growing between your legs, when you feel the man behind you slightly pull away. 

“Hold on, are you–” He raises his head to look down your waist, “Oh, you little devil. You are touching yourself!”

It seems that you had lost all awareness, not realizing your movements were brushing against Astarion’s groin. Your blood rushes to your face and you suddenly feel warm, “I– Gods, I didn't realize–”

He clicks his tongue, “None of that. We're here for you to feel better, remember? Now, tell us, what does your heart desire?”

“I…” You feel bashful for all the thoughts swirling around your mind, unable to speak them aloud: you wish to be taken at once by both of your lovers, having them make you feel whole as they fill you with their love, touch, kiss, bite, every part of your body. Surely, you're influenced by the herbs, but you can't deny that even sober, the thoughts have crossed your mind. The drugs simply allowed them to wander freely and amplify them slightly. 

You finally manage to get a few words out, barely expressing the full extent of your carnal desires, “I want you… Both… to… massage me… everywhere.”

Halsin cups your face softly, kissing your forehead before getting up. “Let's get you comfortable, shall we?”

You nod hazily, and he helps you remove your camp clothing, before removing the rest of his own, leaving you both naked on the bed. While Halsin was helping you dress down, Astarion allowed himself to remove his own shirt, providing you the skin-on-skin you desired from both of them, all the while respecting his own boundaries. Now comfortably nestled between your lovers, you let your hands explore the man facing you. His warmth is overwhelming and you can't stop touching him, languidly going over his chest and shoulders, your concentration faltering.

“I believe our beloved is rather hungry tonight,” Astarion says, smiling.

The archdruid makes eye contact with you, lovingly holding your cheek, “Is this what you want, my love?”

“Yes, please, I've never wanted anything more,” you plead, now with a breathy voice.

Halsin gives you a soft smile and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. Your hips buck on their own, brushing over Halsin’s cock already awakening to your touch

Astarion keeps massaging your tits, never letting you go from his embrace and starts kissing your neck.

“Do you like that, my sweet?” He said between two kisses.

“Y- yes… please… more.”

He drags his hand alongside your body, his nails lightly grazing your skin, tracing every curve, every scar and mark on your body, leaving goosebumps in its trail, before landing over your ass.

“Like this?” He asks with a husky voice.

“Yes…” you breathe out.

Halsin follows Astarion's lead, his own hand caressing your side before landing on your thigh, lifting it up to hook your leg around his waist.

“How about this?”

His hand finds its way to your cunt, softly stroking along your entrance.

You sigh content, your hips bucking into him more, trying to make his fingers enter you.

“More…I need more…”

The archdruid slides his finger inside you, giving you exactly what you want and you moan, letting your nails dig in the muscles of his arm. He steadies his rhythm and your hand finds its way in Astarion's hair, pulling him closer to you. His lips reach your ear, guided by your hand.

“By the gods, you're so beautiful,” he says, nibbling on your ear, getting a whimper out of you, as he leaves a trail of kisses down the nape of your neck.

The attention from your lovers makes you squirm under them as every inch of you is yearning for more contact. Halsin rewards your movements by entering you with a second finger and you cry out of pleasure.

“Keep singing for me my love,” Halsin says.

His fingers working your cunt and his thumb rubbing over your clit only awaken something stronger in you.

“Please Halsin, I need you.”

“You will have me, my heart.”

Your other hand reaches for his cheek, forcing him to look into your eyes, “All of you.”

He reads the urgency in your gaze and he removes his finger from you, giving them a taste and humming at your essence.

“By the Oak Father, you taste like the sweetest of honeys, my love.” His voice is deep, but soft; you can hear the admiration he holds for you, your body, your soul, and it only makes you want him even more.

He places his cock at your entrance before slowly pushing in fully, and you hold onto his face, taking in deep breaths as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 

“Look at you…” Astarion whispers close to your ear. “You're taking him so well, my love,” he rewards you by groping your nipples, lightly pinching them in the process.

You arch your back at the sensation, giving him easier access to not only your breast, but your neck as well, and his mouth instinctively finds its way to the familiar spot of his feeding. His cold tongue traces over your pulsating vein, seemingly asking for permission, and yet, you were the one reduced to a pleading mess.

“Please...”

He hums in the crook of your neck and you feel his smile against your skin, “Please what?”

Your chest rises higher with each breath you take “Bite me.”

He holds your head back by lightly pulling your hair and sinks his teeth into your neck. You cry out at the initial sting and quickly get lost in the feeling. The flow of your blood leaving your body is even more ecstatic than usual; as if you could feel the blood in every vein in your body being pulled away as Astarion drank from you ravishingly. Knowing your limits and accounting for the condition you're in, he pulls back earlier than usual, and you whine at the loss of his mouth only to moan more as Halsin finally starts moving inside you. What the vampire hadn’t thought of was the effect your blood was going to have on him, now that it was mixed with the drugs you took earlier. It wasn't rare for him to get hard drinking from you, but he usually dismissed the feeling since you've discussed taking things slow. This time however, his cock felt rock hard and the drugs now flowing through him made him chase the feeling that the fabric rubbing over him was providing.

He grabs your waist, grinding into your back, while Halsin pumps in and out of you with slow strokes. With any restraint gone, Astarion pushes his hips into you, rubbing himself down through his trousers. By now, his need is clearly showcased by the pre-come stain on his pants, and the head of his cock poking out of his waistband, flushed pink by your blood running through it.

Halsin notices Astarion's mood change and he reaches out to hold his face, bringing him back to him, before he can act on impulse.

“Do you want this?”

His eyes are sincere and caring; granted the reasons they're in this situation is for you, but that doesn't undermine their own needs as well. Astarion nods, affirming his consent, before freeing his erection to show his intentions. Now certain that his lover wanted this as much as himself, Halsin made sure you were ready for them.

He cups your face and gently strokes your cheek. As if he had read your mind earlier, he asks, “Do you think you can take us both, my heart?” 

“Yes,” your voice is merely a whisper, but the lust you express is clear nonetheless. 

He removes himself from inside of you to wet his fingers with your juices, only to take them back out to move them down to your tight hole. His finger coated by your slick gently enters your ass and you gasp at the sensation, surprised at first, but welcoming it as you push down against him. He slides a second finger and you moan in pleasure.

“That's my good girl.”

He prepares your hole, making sure you're accustomed to the feeling, then removes his fingers to spit in his hand, now to prepare Astarion for you. He grasps the vampire's length and slowly strokes him. Astarion hisses at the initial contact, but quickly melts into his touch, bucking his hips into Halsin's wet hand. The archdruid aligns his partner's cock at your tight entrance while he positions himself back against your pussy, ready to enter you again. He asks for one final permission.

“Are you ready, my love?” 

With partly lidded eyes, you nod and whisper a faint yes, and he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, while his hips and Astarion's thrust into you at once. 

You cry into his mouth, both overwhelmed by their sizes and the friction having both of them at the same time provided, and behind you, the vampire growls, steadying himself inside your ass. Having both him and Halsin inside you like this was a sensation you couldn’t begin to describe. It’s everything you ever wanted, you feel whole, but also vulnerable; you were entirely at their mercy, and you wouldn’t be able to get out from their strong hold on you, especially not in the state you’re in. You're completely helpless, caged between their imposing arms and legs, and yet, you’ve never felt more safe than you do right at this moment. For once, you could let go, let yourself be guided, your life between their hands.

You’re brought back to the moment when they start moving, picking up a slow and steady pace, and you let yourself be used by them; while one pulls out, the other enters you fully. You’re rendered speechless, reduced to moans and soft cries, but your lovers make sure to fill in for your silence.

“You feel so good.” The voice behind you groans close to your ear. His grip on your hips tightens, with his sharp nails lightly digging into your soft skin.

“So deliciously wet, just for us.” A honeyed voice praises you more and you start to lose your hold.

“Gods, you’re so fucking tight.”

“You're doing so well.”

Their words of praise worked like a charm on you, and they knew the effect it had on you. They noticed how you reacted to encouragement on the battlefield, and it applied just as much in bed. 

“My love.”

“My good girl.”

The shock to your mind hits you like lightning. You convulse between them, crying out as electricity runs through you, your walls tightening against their cocks, milking them dry. 

“Ugnnh I'm– ah fuck- I'm close.” 

“Mnh- my heart, I’m gonna come–.”

You're still going through your first orgasm when you feel a second one hitting you brutally as they shoot ropes of come inside both of your holes, leaving you overflowing from them.

The sensation numbs you out entirely, still spasming around their members, but completely spent and breathless. Your mind is blank, with nothing but pure bliss swirling around. As if you were between two worlds, switching from dream to reality, you barely feel your lovers pull out of you and move around, cleaning themselves and you. You think you hear a distant voice saying “let’s get you cleaned up” as you’re lifted up from the bed. You don’t notice Astarion removing the ruined sheet, but too tired of his own to care about replacing it with another, and snuggling back in bed. You’re laid down next to him and you instinctively reach out for him; your hand reaching out for his, laying close to his undead heart, and your forehead leaning over his shoulder. Finally, the archdruid slides behind you, covering you three with a warm blanket, his arm circling over your waist. At long last, you let yourself drift to sleep in his loving embrace.

For the first time in weeks, you get a real, good night of sleep.

~

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat

[hoasvuon]

(7:21 AM)

wonwoo had always thought that his days off meant relaxation. he could play games for as late as he wanted, run to the local convenience store to grab instant noodles in between games, and laze around the house. and it especially meant one thing: that he could sleep in as late as he wanted, and just roll around in his sheets until the sun shone far too bright through the curtains.

with how fast-paced his life was, his slow mornings were his break from the reality of the world spinning around him. his way to decompress and center himself. after all, there always seemed to be something else that he had to do, or remember to do, or think about doing in the future.

but since he met you, his mornings started a bit differently.

wonwoo didn't know when he fell asleep, but he did know that he had fallen asleep with you tucked in his side, and that he had been playing the ends of your hair to fall asleep. feeling the sunlight hit his face, he reached out before feeling the empty spot next to him, still warm.

you couldn't have been up for that long then, he thought to himself

grabbing the throw blanket off the bed, he walked to the kitchen and was hit with the smell of pancakes wafting through the hallway. you had your back turned to him, busy intently watching to make sure none of your precious pancakes got burned. as he approaches you from behind he hears your quietly humming to yourself, most likely as not to wake him from the nearby bedroom.

"you abandoned me, how could you", wonwoo says as he wraps the two of you in the fluffy blanket. "i woke up all alone with no one to cuddle"

you laugh, the sound like wind chimes to his ears. "oh you big baby, i was going to wake you up once i finished making the pancakes"

"you could've woken me up when you woke up you know, i'm good at making pancakes too" wonwoo replies. "do you not trust in my pancake making abilities?"

you tilt your head to the side, fake contemplating. "hmm not really" but the small laugh after you say it confirms that you had no bite in that sentence. "i just wanted you to be able to sleep in, i know how much you like doing that on your days off"

wonwoo has a small smile on his face - you know him all too well. peppering small kisses to your cheeks, he says "well next time you better wake me up, so that we can have a pancake making competition! i can't have you thinking i make inferior pancakes"

you murmur a small "ok baby", eyes still focused on the pancakes in front of you.

what he doesn't tell you is his underlying thoughts: wake me so i can see you in the morning, wake me so i can be near you whenever, wake me so that i can see you making pancakes, laughing light like a fairy when you accidentally burn one.

(wonwoo doesn't think life would ever give him enough mornings with you, wrapped in his arms, peppering lazy kisses to your face. so he wants nothing more than to spend all those precious moments awake and by your side)

[teapartyprincess4two]

Full Set- M. Sturniolo

pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo

classification: mostly fluff

warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)

summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.

—

“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.

You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.

When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”

She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.

In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”

The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”

What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’

“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.

“Do you think we can add more glitter?”

—

After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.

As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.

Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.

For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.

You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:

@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!

Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!

@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!

He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.

—

The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.

When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.

Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.

You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.

“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.

“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.

“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.

“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.

“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”

Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.

“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.

Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.

Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.

“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she’s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.

“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.

“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.

“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.

“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.

“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.

As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.

While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”

You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.

—

The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.

“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.

“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’

You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.

To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.

You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.

The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.

Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”

“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.

“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.

“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.

Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”

—

When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.

When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.

It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.

Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:

@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!

‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:

@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)

What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.

@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!

The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.

Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.

“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.

“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”

You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.

“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.

“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.

—

The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.

While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.

When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?

“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.

Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.

He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.

Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.

Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.

—

For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.

Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.

When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.

He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.

“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.

“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.

—

When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.

You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.

“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.

Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.

Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”

His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.

Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.

“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.

“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.

“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.

There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.

“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.

“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.

You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[ladyelissarose]

‘Stop Thinking!’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4K!!! NSFW, smut. Very fluffy- Like fluffy overload. Soft Miguel. I feel like he would be such a soft and sweet person while off-work. (Like look at how sweet he was with Gabriella) anyways. Enjoy y’all!


Author’s note: so this is my first time writing smut. I have no experience in this area of writing. But I wanted to try something new for y’all. So far I’ve been learning from all the amazing smut fics I’ve read. (There are some great ones out there!!) So please, I’m willing to take some word from y’all if y’all like or see something that is fixable! Likes and reblogs are much appreciated- much love y’all! message me if you’ll like to mention something in private;)




“Oh!- Miguelll. Ah! That’s tickles.”


You let out a soft giggle as Miguel laid on top of you in bed, at your shared apartment, kissing your soft stomach wherever he pleased. You both decided to take the day off, (more like you pushed him to finally agree because you saw how exhausted he was) after being stressed out and running on 24 back to back shifts all to protect the spider-universes.

Jess and Peter B. had it in their control, along with LEGO Spider-Man too, (Miguel actually trusted that poor LEGO and seemed more at peace with him along with the others than not.) Anyways, while a very attention deprived Miguel tried to shower you in his once all pent up love and touch, you were too busy still thinking and being busy.


“I wonder if Hobie is going to pull a funny prank once you get back, he hates your guts yet can never leave your lair area.”


Miguel mumbled incoherent words as his lips kissed every part of your soft tummy, your shirt now scrunched up to your neck. You were in simple panties while Miguel rested in his boxers, choosing to have less clothing between the two. You felt Miguel all over you, relaxing in his touch but thought a little more before adding,


“Baby can I babysit MayDay one day? So Peter B and you can work better together and he’s not very distracted?”

This time he let out a groan which you considered a ‘yes’.


“Oh yay!”

To that he softly bit your tummy, to which you let out a soft squeak but nonetheless put forth,

“Or maybe I’ll go on a mission with all the teens, they all seem pretty fun, especially Miles and Pavtir. Gwen gives me ‘mommers’ energy, I’ll invite her to the mall instead. ohhhh.”


 He had just left a super wet kiss in between your breasts after giving attention to them, but he replied,
“Hmm hmm amor.”
Miguel loved to hear you talk, it was no doubt that hearing your voice made his day better (especially when certain spiderlings gave him a hard time.)

But right now, he didn’t want to hear that, he just wanted to hear your soft sighs, those little hitched breaths when he kissed a certain spot. Although more than any of those, it was the whimpers and pleading cried you made for him, along with the sweet moans that were addicting and music to his ears.

Buuuuuut, you wouldn’t god damn shut up. Your mind was working to fast instead of slowing down.
“Hey Miguel, when do you think Jess will have her bab-“

Ok, he has had it, pushing his hair back with one hand he lifted up off of your for a second before stressing out his desperation,


“Por Dios amor, can you shut the hell up for one minute?”

Silence filed the room instantly, you snapped out of your chatty self and saw Miguel’s warm brown eyes hold a yearning in them, and he was breathing hard yet letting in and out slowly. You felt bad for being selfish much, and for not being able to decompress for him.

“I’m sorry Miguel.”

A pout fell on your lips which he kissed away instantly,
“It’s ok amor... I’m not mad. Just... relax.”

You nodded and he then kissed you, feeling that you might give in already, but you began to make excuses against his lips. Mumbling the words against him as he had refused to separate from your lips,
“-ut Migg-“

He pulled away with a huff and held up a very serious finger to your lips gently,
“Don’t ‘But Miggy’ me. Miguel, your boyfriend is telling you to shut up and let me love you. No more work, or nothing. All I want to hear from those pretty lips is moans and my name. Es todo, y nada mas.”


A little snicker passed your lips as you then exaggerated with heavy pants,
 “Oh yeah! Yes please! Ohh- AH MIGUELLL! Oh- fuck!!”


Miguel let out a delicious chuckle with a smirk, groaning lowly as he seated himself deep inside you, relishing in the fact of how you squeezed him so perfectly, hitting all the right spots for him. You were left breath and wordless, as his sudden act caught you off guard and now shut up. You let out a shaky breath and a small moan, trying to suppress it as he pressed in harder and held his place as he whispered to your ear,


“Wanna be quiet now? Thought you wanted to be loud? Hm queirda?”


Teasingly he dragged his fangs across your neck, placing feather light kisses behind the wet trails he left. You squeezed his broad shoulders tightly and in that moment you tried to admire his stealth and magnificence above you, but your mind went racing, and you lost yourself in his eyes as you once again went into thinking,
‘How’d his big size fit in so quickly and unexpectedly-‘


“Amor. Are you ok with this- I’m sorry if I-“

Miguel had the guiltiest frown and started to pull away, and you felt as if your air was being taken from you. How could he think he was in the wrong for absolutely praising and pleasuring you?

With grabby hands you pulled him flush against your chest as you pleaded,

“No no no! You’re ok baby, I swear.”


 His brow picked up a bit as he then asked curiously, showing how much he actually cared about ‘you’ over everything, even while still balls deep inside you,
“Then what’s wrong amor? Hm?”


His homey brown eyes bore only yours as you calmed him,
“Sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.”


 His frown was long gone as he pursed his thick lips and couldn’t help but tsk,
“You still have a question do you?”


Your cheeks burned bright red as you slowly nodded and whimpered,

“yes.”

He propped himself on his elbows to not crush you as he then threatened with a kiss to your nose,
“You have one last question to ask before I rail you until you stop thinking.”


 A breath left your chest in satisfaction as you wiggled a bit, biting down a moan from feeling him swell harder in you, and perfectly ignoring how he bit his lips hard to contain himself. You then raked your hands across his back as you perked,
“How’d you squeeze yourself so easily inside of me? When it usually takes-“

Then you took one of his hands and kissed his knuckles before continuing,
“-your fingers to warm me up?”


 Miguel let out one of his warmest smiles that had a hint of tease in it as he replied,
“Well... you were to busy thinking up here *kiss on your head* instead of thinking down here!-“


And with a quick pull back he slammed himself back into you, causing you to arch into him and this time really moan out,
“Ahhh! Oh Miiiguel.”


“Si? I’m here amor. And you-“

Another deep thrust*

“-were long ready before you even knew it.”

deep thrust*

“Oh go-“

“No amor.. just me.. Miguel. Vamos amor, say my name.”

Lust and pride burned red in his eyes as he looked down at your smaller form under his, adoring every move and sound you made, because of him.

With gentle but hard moves he thrusted into you, being the cause of your short breaths and little whimpers that he was now happy to receive and hear. Arms wrapped around him you pulled yourself up and bit onto his lips, and you left him a sweet kiss before challenging with a sultry voice,


“Make me, Miguel.”


His slower, languid movements suddenly stopped, as he watched you look up at him with a high chin. You let go of his arms and dropped yourself back down, lifting your arms above your head and resting them there. You were sure in a damn mood huh? But it only excited you and brought more to your arousal when he growled,


“Lo hare entonces.”


 Eyes now glowing red, in seconds he had one hand clasped with both of yours, fingers intertwining in a bruising grip, holding them high above your head. With his other hand, he put a soft pressure on your lower stomach, and trailed it up, expanding his fingers to get a whole feel of your skin against his. He stopped his hand right at your throat, his sweet voice betraying his sharp demeanor when he asked- of not pleaded,


“Por favor amor? Do you trust me?”


You sent him a confident smile with a verbal reply, knowing he preferred those for good confirmation,


“Yes love. I trust you.”


Fingers embracing the hold your neck gave him, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to push it too much, but it was just the right amount.

Miguel loved pushing you and trying new things, but he always did it after asking and making sure you were absolutely comfortable. If not he wouldn’t ask twice to do it or make you feel bad about not going with it.

Now your legs found place around his waist, hugging him tightly as he had pulled back and you refused him to go any further out.

But your worries about that were cut short when he began to pour his love out to you with every sharp thrust. Hitting every spot in you had you almost seeing stars, warmth seeped into you from the inside out. Low whimpers escaped his lips all while he made sure loud moans came from yours.

Also, one thing Miguel couldn’t go through this without- was the praise.

“You’re taking me so well amor, eres perfecta. All mine hm?”

A kiss to your lips he added,
“Look at you, hermosa. Tan bueno... look at me.”

You eyes had tried to flutter shut, but at his whimpering plea you couldn’t deny him. Your fucked out eyes looking into his hungry and lustful ones, you both fed off on one another, pleading for more.
 Words were almost not able to get out from how breathless he made you with every thrust. Bit with a certain one that hit you right where it made all the butterflies go all out, you did muster out,
“Y-Yes! Jus’ for you Mig- ah! Please- don’t stop!”

A heavy sigh left your lips as tears prickled in your eyes, the pleasure all too good to keep a straight face. You could feel it all building up, but it felt all too right and perfect to want to finish it and let it go so fast. And you knew Miguel felt the same when he groaned,
“Just a little longer amor, no quiero parar tampoco.”

Your legs pushed him further into you and you dug your heels into his muscled lower back, reaching up to kiss he parted lips.
 Lips then connecting he took your breath away yet provided leverage with his hard pants escaping into you. His muscles rippled under you and you could feel his every movement as he pressed himself impossibly closer to you, not getting enough of your touch or your skin against his.

A light coat of sweat covered you both at the close proximity, but neither gave a damn as you dove into the heat of this moment, embracing into this warmth and heat that was like no other. It was the kind that made you feel safe, known, belonging, cared for, and most of all.. unapologetically loved.

After every other thrust Miguel seemed to be going faster, his hand leaving your neck to use his fingers to rub against your clit, prompting you to reach your high he called his trophy.

Your moans spurred him on as you could feel that familiar and all different warmth of pleasure grow in your lower tummy. You squeezed Miguel’s hand tightly as you pleaded in between moans,
“Ah! Miguel, please.”

With a harsh but quick kiss to your lips Miguel teased,
“Please what? Qué deseas amor?”

He let out a deep groan when your walls tightened around him, making him let out a sweet low moan that was rare to get but you swallowed his every sound desperately like a drug. He smiled with his lips on yours as he asked,
“You close amor? Hm? I can feel- ahhhh.”

You’ve never heard Miguel this vocal before, and you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t triggering something deep in you. Finding him strong in his vulnerability, as he moaned to your words,
“I’m close baby- please! F-Faster!”

Miguel then let go of your hands, and wrapped his arms around you, settling with one hand splayed on your back, and the other gripping your waist tightly, threatening to leave ‘love tattoos’. With a single kiss to you lips Miguel growled,
“Como deseas, aferrate a mi.”


 Your arms grasped tightly onto his broad shoulders, closing whatever gap was left between you two. Your cheek was pressed on his and you held his head against you possessively. 


Miguel put himself onto his knees, and laid you down while clinging onto him for life, as if you were afraid to let him go and lose everything of him. With a reassuring kiss to your head, the fight for your highs became utterly real.

With quick, deep thrusts he began to absolutely rail you, grinding onto your sweet spot with every hit, spurring you on and raising your cries for him.
“Oh Miguel! Ah! Please please- Miguel!!”

He could definitely feel how close you were to an euphoric moment, velvety walls swallowing his length and milking him for what was to come. It only encouraged him to suck up what was left of his adrenaline to sink further in and gift what he could in pleasure.


 Miguel loved you entirely, he’d kill and die for you. You had given him your heart and knew he wouldn’t screw up again, and if he did, he swore with his heart and life that he’d pay for it. In return he had finally given his to you, once he saw and knew you’d do the absolute same for him, if not more.

His life was harsh and more than occupied, he wore a mean facade 99% of the time so he wouldn’t be stepped on, but with you, he could be 100% himself, and this is who he was. A loving, self-sacrificing man, who was vulnerable and healing by giving his all to you. Showing his love endlessly by making himself yours and you his. 
 Feeling himself coming to close to his release, he let go of your waist and trailed his hand to your clit, using his fingers to press down harsh and tight circles that have you curling your toes.
“Vamos amor, come baby I’m right with you. I’m h-here.”


 His words cut short when you finally let go at his command, gushing on him as you let out a deep cry of his name and ‘I love you’s’. 
 Miguel embraced you close as he let go right after you, panting and kissing your neck as he let his cum paint inside of you, marking you once again as his. With a couple last deep thrusts, he finally came to a stop and took deep breaths in between heartfelt words.


“I.. I love you amor.. so m-much.”


You responded with a light kiss to his lips and a mumble, feeling the exhaustion slowly take over,
“I love you... more baby.”


 Miguel got up on his elbows, muttering comforting words as he slowly started to pull out, but you whined a bit and held his shoulders, a small but visible pout on your lips. He thought you were very sore after such a long and hard session, but you quickly said,
“Stay inside.. I.. I want you close.”


 Miguel smiled at you sweetly, knowing that he too would love to do the same, but you needed a refreshing bath first. So he bargained and promised,
“Why don’t we take a quick bath, then we can do that, yeah amor?”

You thought for a minute before accepting he was right, the sticky feeling in your legs showing so. The thought of having cool yet warm water embrace your growing sore body, had you ready to get up immediately.


“Ok baby, let me get up to start it-“

“No no no... let me carry you, come on.”


Like the strong man he was, he was able to sweep you up into a bridal style, carrying you gently into the bathroom as you muttered,
“Thank you..”

“Anytime amor. Sit here while I get the stuff ready.”


 He gently placed you on the sink and wrapped you with the sheet you dragged along so you wouldn’t get cold, pressing a kiss to your lips twice, he then went on to prepping your bath. 


Having memorized all the salts and bath bombs you preferred most for soreness and relaxation, Miguel efficiently and quietly placed them all into the warm water, splashing it a bit to make more bubbles (as he knew you secretly loved it passionately) 

 In peace you watched how his back muscles moved so enticingly with every thing he did. They were so big and comforting to touch.

He used his strength to take out big scary guys and protect his multiverses... but he also used them to make your bath perfect, and that thought... did warm your heart and make you fall harder for him as always.

His chiseled chest gleaming in light and in his sweat, brought you back to earth as he walked toward you with a warm smile and soft words,
“Ok mi amor, it’s ready, come on.”


 With one arm he picked you up, only confirming how tough you thought he was, and he gently and carefully placed you both in. His chest against your back he held you close, his hands never leaving your body. 


You two sat in quiet for a bit, relishing in the water and in each other, soon then Miguel asked if you were ok and not hurt at all, you responded with,
“I feel complete with you. I’m perfectly safe and happy baby.”


 With peppering kisses you two helped each other clean up, you too also asking him questions to make sure he was ok as well, and he responded assuringly,
“Never been better. Contigo estoy contento amor.”


 Little after you both were ready to hop out, as the water had cooled down. Drying off with fluffy towels, exchanging shy and loving glances at your exposed bodies made you both giggle a bit and have rosy faces, but you’ve never felt more free and safe. 


Massages were given to your sore legs and back, as Miguel rubbed on some lotion for you. You tried to do the same, but ended up being enthralled by how rock hard his abs were that you got distracted a couple of times.

So you instead helped him back by getting some fresh water and popping some fruit in his mouth, he couldn’t resist but return that favor but also steal fruity kisses. Then you two put out clean sheets, it all felt so romantic yet domestic, and beautiful combination that was so perfect. 
 Now completing his promise, the big, strong, mean and hard Miguel held puppy eyes and crawled on top of your laying form and whispered,
“Can we still...?”

“Yes baby, I haven’t changed my mind. C’mere.”


 He smiled like a dork, as he guided himself into you once again, this time he was soft yet firm, but you both sighed contentedly once he was fully inside.

Half of his weight rested on you, his legs to the side as his face came to hide in your neck, his hand finding place on your head and the other intertwined with yours. You cradled his head and kissed it sweetly,
“Goodnight baby, get some sleep.”


 Your words sounded like he was the only one going to be sleeping. Your voice sounded so alive compared to his, and he could only grumble,
“You better not be thinking. Go to sleep.”

“Miggy-“


 His head lifted to be above you as he worded seriously yet with a tease,
“Go mimis. Please amor. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You lifted a brow and sassed,
“Promising another round sir?”


 Calling ‘sir’ had him smirk and threaten,

“More like rounds. I won’t only make your legs sore but your brain too.”

“Mmmm challenge accepted-“

He sighed a short laugh of disbelief at your still sassiness as he plopped back down into your neck.
“Mimis amor. Now.”

You were going to respond, but a sudden deep yawn came over you, and in seconds you felt extremely exhausted. Eyes closing slowly you worded lastly,
“G’night baby.. love you.”


 Miguel hummed against you, content to hear you passing out as he replied,
“Sweet dreams amor.. love you too.”


 You passed out before he even finished, he felt the deep breaths you took and how your hand went limp on his head. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, before riding his sleeping chariot alongside you.

Spanish Translations;
amor- love
Queirda- dear
Como deseas- as you wish
Es todo, y nada mas- that’s it, and nothing more
Lo hare entonces- I’ll do it then.
Aferrate a mi- Hold onto me
Vamos- come on
Contigo estoy contento- With you I’m happy
Eres perfecta- you’re perfect
Mimis- night-night

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

a moment of sadness and sweetness in one bottle. What to do if there was a quarrel between the characters and Y / N on stupid grounds, for example, they misunderstood each other, or maybe someone didn’t buy something that he had been asked for a long time in the store, or said something unpleasant, although it might not even be addressed to the second. Someone will be very offended, and the second will try to correct the current situation. In general, everyday moments, with an exceptionally good ending!

Yess! Happy to do this one, love me a bit of angst/fluff🙃 thanks for the request! Hope this was okay for you!

141 + König Having A Small "Fight" With GN! Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, crying, bickering, mentions of depression and self conciousness ‐‐ends in fluff!!

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon was in a dreadful mood. He and the team had just gotten home from a mission that didn't go well for any of them. He wanted nothing more than peace and quiet and to lay in bed for the remainder of the day.

He walked into your shared some and was immediately hit with the smell of his favorite food cooking in the kitchen, and gave a heavy sigh. He tried to muster a decent enough mood for you, as it was clear you were just trying to make him feel better.

He walked in and found you dancing around the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. "I'm home, Y/N."

You turned to him with a bright smile. "Hey! Dinner is almost ready. I'm not sure if you were hungry or not."

You walked over to him and embraced hom tightly. Simon stood stiff, not returning the sentiment, causing you to pull away immediately.

"If it's alright, I'll eat it in the bedroom." Simon said, his eyes leaving yours to look at the floor.

"Oh, that's fine." Your smile fell ever so slightly. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"No. I just want to be alone." He mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table.

You nodded meekly and went to prep his plate, handing it to him nervously. "I hope you like, I spent all afternoon prepping it."

"I'm sure it's fine, Y/N. It's just food. Can I go now?" Simon instantly regretted the tone of his voice but couldn't bring himself to reflect on it. He had too much swirling on his mind already.

You swallowed thickly and nodded at him, watching him make his way to your shared room, slamming the door behind him.

You knew when getting into a relationship with him that there would be days like this. He went through so much in his personal life, and his job was far from easy. He'd been gone for nearly 3 months, and you missed him terribly, wanting nothing more than to embrace your boyfriend when he got home.

He told you it was a rough mission, so you thought surprising him with his favorite home cooked meal might help him decompress. You'd had the whole night planned out to take care of him, and now here you were eating alone.

You felt tears fall down your cheeks and stared at your food, your appetite now gone.

~

Later that night, as you were unsure if you could approach him, you'd decided to sleep on the couch.

Simon had come out a few hours after you'd fallen asleep, wondering why you hadn't come to bed, and his heart shattered when he saw you.

He walked over to your sleeping form and crouched down beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, sweetheart."

Your eyes blinked open and looked up at him. Even in the dark Simon could tell you had been crying, and he felt horrible. "Simon?"

"Come to bed, love."

You shook your head, a sad smile forming on your lips. "It's okay. You wanted to be alone."

Simon placed his hands on either side of your face gently. "Just for a little while was all. I didn't want to take my shitty mood out on you. I should've gone about it a different way, though. The food was incredible, I'm sorry I made your hard work seem like it wasn't worth it."

You nodded slowly and moved to sit up. "Im sorry for my part. I knew you had a hard mission, and I let myself take it personally."

"Bugger off with that. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to your shared room. He laid you carefully on the bed, and slipped into the covers behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

"I love you, Y/N. Thank you for being you." He declared quietly as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you in this world."

König-

"Maus, are you almost ready to go? Our reservation is in 20 minutes!" You heard your boyfriend's voice call from outside your room.

"Y-Yeah. I'll be out in a minute." You replied, staring at your reflection in your mirror. You'd spent the last 30 minutes applying makeup and weren't happy with the end result. You kept reapplying various products, and nothing seemed to be making it better.

König made his way into the room after a few moments to see what the holdup was. "You ready?"

"I'm just trying to make this look good. It's not looking the way I want it." You huffed in frustration.

"You spend so much time getting ready. It's not going to help your self esteem throwing all that stuff on your face, Maus."

"...what?" You turned to him, not knowing if you heard him correctly. He knew of your self-esteem issues, and you were surprised he threw it in your face.

"I said you don't need that crap on your face. It won't help you feel better." He said, his eyebrows bunching together in confusion. Was he saying something wrong? He truly felt you didn't need it.

You turned your head away from him as you felt hot tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Oh."

König heard your voice break and immediately panicked. "Maus, are you okay?"

You nodded your head and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing a makeup wipe. You began to aggressively wipe away the makeup on your face as your tears continued to fall.

König followed behind you silently, and his heart shattered upon seeing your tear stained reflection in the mirror. "Maus... tell me what's wrong."

You whipped your head in his direction, fully sobbing now. "I feel so ugly König. Makeup is the only thing that helps me with my self-esteem, and you...you made it seem like it was stupid."

König felt horrible. He truly didn't think much of his words. He thought you were truly beautiful inside and out and didn't need something as trivial as makeup. You were already so beautiful without it.

"Schatz, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I meant to say you don't need it. You're so pretty without it. I don't know why you don't see yourself the way that I do. You are so stunning, I wish you could see that. I promise you I did not mean to belittle how you felt, sweeheart." He slowly approached you and gently started to wipe away your tears. "I love you so much, please don't be upset."

You cried harder at his words, and König almost lost it himself. He was about to speak up himself when you threw your arms around his midsection and buried your face in his chest. "I'm sorry, Kö."

"What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" He asked, bewildered.

"I just.. I feel like I'm not good-looking enough, so I turn to makeup." You mumbled in his chest.

He pulled your face away gently. "Y/N. Remember when we first started dating? I felt horrible about myself and my scars. It's one of the reasons I always wore my hood. Until you. You made me feel good and happy within my own skin. Please, love, let me help you."

You gave him a smile and pressed your lips to his. "I love you so much, Kö. Thank you."

König returned his arms around your waist giving you a tight hug. "I'm always here, Maus. And you are the most beautiful thing in the world to me."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You and Kyle were sitting on the couch as you played one of the video games he'd been addicted to lately. You wanted to show more interest in the games he liked, and were delighted when he gave you the controller.

You were coming up on a boss fight, and assured Kyle you were okay to win it. "I promise Ky, I got this."

"I'll lose all my items if you don't, it took me forever to get it. Please be careful." He said, watching you play with worry.

You nearly defeated the boss, when you all of a sudden forgot to duck and were struck with a killing blow.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I almost had him." You chuckled, turning to see your boyfriend staring at you with an angry look on his face.

"Sorry? I've been at this for hours, and you just let my character get killed, I lost all of my items Y/N!" Kyle's voice rose, causing you to flinch slightly.

"I said I was sorry, I feel bad. I just wanted to try this game out since you love it so much. I didn't mean for this to happen." You mumbled quietly, shifting your eyes away from his.

"This is the last time I let you play any of my games. You ruin everything." He said through gritted teeth. "Now I've got to go back and fix all this no thanks to you."

Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you stood and ran to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. You honestly hadn't meant for it to happen. You were just trying to show interest in a game he loved.

~

It was about an hour later when Kyle came into your room, his heart hurting at the sound of your muffled sobs. "Babe?"

You didn't reply, as you kept your head buried in your pillows. He came over to you, and sat beside you on the bed, rubbing your back soothingly. "I'm sorry. I was an absolute ass. You were trying to show interest which I so appriciate, and I just threw it back in your face. I'm so, so sorry baby."

Kyle bent down and began to pepper light kisses all over your face, making you giggle. "What do you say we go and play Mario kart? I may even let you win a match."

"What? Ky you know I whoop your ass at that game." You giggled, wiping your tears away.

"That's a load of rubbish and you know it. Loser makes dessert?" He asked, a wide smile forming on his face.

"You're on, Garrick."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You'd just gotten home from a shopping trip on your own, and were unloading the bags in the kitchen when your boyfriend Johnny walked in.

"Hey babe, thanks for going." He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he started to help you unload the bags.

"Y/N, where's the hair razor?" Johnny asked, tearing through the shopping bags.

"Oh, crap I forgot it, I knew there was something I was missing. I'll get it next trip!"

"You forgot it? I've been asking you nonstop about it and put it on the list like you asked me to! I shouldn't have to wait until next trip!"

"Okay, okay, im sorry."

"You probably forgot because you were too busy wasting our money on shit we don't need, instead of focusing on the stuff we do."

You swallowed thickly, as his words hit you like a thousand bricks. "Okay."

Johnny threw his hands up in frustration and walked outside to the porch, slamming the door behind him.

You grabbed your keys on the table and made your way to your car.

~

"Where've you been? I came back inside, and you were gone and didn't pick up your cell."

"Went back to the store, here." You said, shoving the razor box into your boyfriend's hands. "Sorry again."

You threw your purse down onto the table and started to make your way to your room before a hand came out and grabbed your wrist. "Y/N, wait."

You turned around to him, your face showing no emotion. "What."

"I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have said that shit. I just got frustrated, but that's no excuse." He reached for both your arms and rubbed at them soothingly.

You sighed deeply and met his eyes. "I'm sorry too. It completely skipped my mind when I was there."

"Ah, it's fine. Honestly. I was just being a prick. I appreciate you going back to get it, I really do."

Johnny came up and gave you a bone crushing hug, spinning you around. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Johnny." You chuckled before your face fell. "I uh... forgot we needed batteries for your razor."

John Price-

John had been in his home office nearly all day on call after call. It was supposed to be his day off, but he hadn't left his room in hours. You were slightly worried about him, as he hadn't eaten all day so you decided to make a small snack for him and bring it into his office.

You walked in quietly, pointing to the plate of crackers and cheese as he looked at you pointedly. "Just bringing by a little snack."

"Yeah, yeah, love. I'll be out later." John waived his hand at you dismissively. You gave a small smile before making your way out of his room, closing the door behind you. You were just about to walk away when you heard something spoken, muffled by the door. "Just annoying, you know?"

You felt your heart drop upon hearing those words and walked to your bedroom, not wanting to hear another word. Did you really annoy him? You were just trying to make sure he ate he hadn't left the room in hours.

You laid down on your bed, and tears came to your eyes. You'd been feeling rather depressed lately, like you weren't good enough for him, and his words stabbed at your heart. It was impossible not to keep replaying them over and over in your head.

You'd ultimately decided to give him space for the remainder of the day, not wanting to burden him in any way.

~

"Hey, sorry I've not been able to get off that damn phone all day. Want to go grab a bite?" John's voice came from the doorway.

"No. I'm okay. Thanks, though." You replied, not turning to look at him.

"Oh? Are you sure? It's dinner time, and I figured you haven't eaten." He tried again, walking over to you, and stopped in his tracks when he saw the tear stains literring your cheeks. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You looked up at him, your bottom lip trembling. "Am I annoying?"

"Annoying?" John looked utterly perplexed at your question. "Not at all honey, why would you think that?"

"When... when I closed the door earlier, I heard my name through it...and afterward you said "just annoying"." You sniffled out, unable to meet his eyes.

John sat for a moment, replaying the conversation in his head before remembering. "Oh! God no baby, that wasn't about you. I was on with Kate, and she asked if I'd been able to spend time with you yet since I got home, and I told her I haven't, and it's annoying. I don't think you're annoying at all."

He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'm so sorry you thought that."

You shook your head, a small laugh bubbling in your chest. "I shouldn't have even thought anything of it. I've just been down, lately, I suppose."

"Honey, you should've told me. I can't help you if I don't know what you're feeling." Price put his finger under your chin and lifted for you to look at him. "Why don't we go get some takeout and have a movie night in? How does that sound?"

You nodded your head and pressed your lips against his. "I love you John."

"I love you too, always."

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

A/N: didn't go too angsty on this one lol. Thanks for reading!!

[luminoustarlight]

Had It Up To Here | Anakin Skywalker

After an argument, Anakin's patience with you has grown thin.

Very, very loosely inspired by the lyric "I've had it up to here" in the song Just A Girl by No Doubt

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 4.6k | read on ao3 warnings: SMUT [dom!anakin, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, cream pie], dirty talk, jealousy, flirting

i hope you enjoy my first ani smut. there's more to come (hehe) :)

If you’ve never received the cold shoulder from Anakin Skywalker, consider yourself lucky. 

It all started two days ago after he and Obi-Wan retrieved you from Nal Hutta. Your mission was successful so you weren’t quite sure why Anakin had looked so… displeased when he saw you. Of course, you didn’t expect him to greet you with open arms, given that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on the trip. But the scowl on his face was enough to make your very exposed skin prickle with goosebumps. And that’s when you realized— you didn’t have a chance to change into your everyday threads before you met Ani and Obi-Wan at the extraction point. You were still wearing a rather scantily clad ensemble, one that certainly would’ve had Anakin jumping out of his pants if you two were alone. 

“You did well,” Obi-Wan praised. “I can imagine you were quite alluring to the Hutts.” Obi-Wan’s tone was playful, knowing just how magnetic you can be. In contrast to Obi-Wan’s friendliness, a deep-set frown had made itself comfortable on Anakin’s face. He didn’t like what you were wearing and he definitely didn’t like Obi-Wan making light of it. Your secret boyfriend shrugged off his own robe and threw it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you, Anakin,” you said. Anakin replied with an unpleased grunt. Even after Obi-Wan settled himself in the cockpit and you two were alone, he didn’t hug you or kiss you or even act like he was happy to see you. “What, you don’t like my outfit, Ani?” 

“No.” His tone was clipped. 

“Really?” you smirked, opening his robe, revealing your bare torso and accentuated breasts. “I really thought you would have.” 

“That’s enough,” Anakin said, shutting down your flirtatious smile. “We’ll discuss this later.” 

Then off he went to join Obi-Wan in the cockpit, not saying another word to you until you were in your private chambers. 

Hours. It seemed like you and Anakin were having a conversation about your outfit on Nal Hutta for hours. As a Republic spy, you have no issue with becoming the character the mission requires you to be. Most of the time you’re invisible. After all, that’s the point of being a spy, isn’t it? However, you were far from invisible when the job required you to weed your way through the Hutt Clan. It made Anakin’s blood boil to know that your beautiful body, which should only be reserved for him, was exposed to some of the slimiest scum in the galaxy. 

Of course, your bodily autonomy is your own. And Anakin knows this. But you are also his and because nobody actually knows that you’re his, he doesn’t particularly enjoy when anyone gets to admire you and not face repercussions. He has to consciously remind himself not to stare at you during meetings and briefings. He can’t tell you you’re beautiful, he can’t kiss you whenever he pleases and it drives him mad. Because of this, you two have become quite the experts at stealing kisses in empty hallways, locking pinkies in passing to silently say I love you. 

You had been looking forward to taking a nice bath to decompress. Maybe open a bottle of wine. And you wanted to do that with Anakin. It was abnormally quiet for him on the war front so he’d been given a couple days off. But Anakin just can’t seem to let go of your disagreement about what is appropriate for you to wear. Spoiler alert: you can wear whatever the stars you want and he just has to deal with it. Because you’re both too stubborn and petty for your own good, you’ve decided to dress up in a nice, form-fitting emerald dress with triangle cuts on the sides of your waist, meeting to a point over your belly button. 

Anakin is sitting in the lounge, flicking through the HoloTV. He’s hardly said a word to you since you ended your argument last night with, “You don’t control me, Anakin.”

While that might be true in almost every sense, there is a different persona Anakin often takes on when you’re intimate. And he would venture to say that he is in full control of you in the bedroom. 

When you emerge from your sleeping quarters, you swear you can hear his heart stop. He promptly turns off the TV and reaches you in five quick steps. You’re securing your earring, tilting your neck to show off the supple skin Anakin loves to nip and kiss so dearly. You’ve put on the perfume that makes your skin shimmer in the light, making you look like his very own angel. Anakin squares his hips against you, backing you into the wall. “Where are you going?” 

You look up at him through thick eyelashes. Your lips are coated in a clear gloss, all tantalizing and tempting, probably the one that tastes like pears. “Out,” you reply. You escape from Anakin’s blockade to head towards the door, but not before he grabs your forearm with his gloved hand. 

You know he’s dying to kiss you, to have you right there up against the wall. But Anakin doesn’t cave that easily. We’re back to that stubbornness you two share. “Without me?” Anakin grits. 

You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle. “If you’re not going to talk to me then I figured I’d go out and have a drink at Helios. I’m sure there are plenty of people willing to talk to me there.” You mean to flirt with. Harmless flirting, of course. You and Anakin only do it to rile the other up. You don’t do it often, what with the continuous war going on, the two of you don’t find yourselves socializing with civilians all that regularly. 

“Watch it,” he warns, his grip on you tightening. You look down to where his leather fingers are wrapped around your arm. It’s a strong hold. Just say the word and I’ll let go, Anakin conveys through softened eyes. 

“Watch me walking away from you and out of the door.” You snatch your arm away from Anakin. You take fast and confident steps so he knows you mean business and open the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.” 

Anakin stands in the foyer with his jaw and fists clenched. He lets you walk away, mainly because he knows he’s been acting like a prick. He knows you’re right. He knows you were doing your job and not purposefully drawing attention to yourself by what you were wearing. And so what if you were? You can wear whatever you want. Stars, most of the time Anakin loves seeing you dressed up or in next to nothing. 

And truthfully, Anakin loved what you were wearing when he picked you up from Nal Hutta. It was Obi-Wan’s comment that put him in a foul mood over it. Just two words, the same word repeated twice, actually. “My, my,” was all the older gentleman muttered. Anakin hated that his Master could make such a comment about you without anyone being suspicious of his intentions or feelings. If Anakin had made the same comment, with that same suggestive tone, he’d be in deep Bantha fodder. 

Anakin thinks about this next move. Do you truly want space? Or is this just a little foreplay? Afterall, he still hasn’t kissed you. Maker, what is wrong with him? All he ever wants to do is kiss you, taste you, wrap you up in his arms and never let go. Because you are his and only his. 

He’s made his decision. He’s going to Helios. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Helios is one of the nicer clubs downtown. It doesn’t usually attract the wrong crowd, making you feel safe whenever you go alone or meet with friends. It’s not like you can’t protect yourself should anything happen, though. It’s one of Anakin’s favorite things about you: your precise marksmanship and dexterity with a knife. Not to mention your mean uppercut. 

The crowd is booming, but not enough so that your laugh can’t be heard by Anakin when he walks into the club. His eyes immediately track you to the bar, elbows on the counter, laughing at something the Twi’lek on your right must’ve said. The routine pit of jealousy begins building in his stomach. It’s been a while since you two have played this game. He can’t remember if he loves it or hates it. He loves knowing that the men who want you can’t actually have you. He loves knowing that he’s the one who will be fucking you— or making love to you depending on the day— at the end of it all. That you are his and only his. But damn it, does he hate watching someone else make you laugh. Especially when he’s done so little of that since you got home. 

Anakin comes up behind you and places his left hand on your back, not so subtly pushing himself between you and the Twi’lek. “Pardon me,” he says. 

You straighten your back. You knew he’d come get you. His jawline looks impossibly sharp under the lavender light in the club. His hand is warm on your back, fingertips digging into the exposed flesh of your torso. “Hello, Anakin. I was having rather nice conversation with Vik before you interrupt us. Say hello to Vik, Anakin.” 

Anakin does no such thing and orders a shot of something strong instead. 

“Sorry, are you two…” Vik waves a finger between you and Anakin.

You reply in unison, although your answer is “no” and Anakin’s is “yes”. 

It is never “yes” because you never know who might be listening. Anakin must really be peeved. 

Vik’s flirty eyes turn frightful. “Listen, I don’t want any part in a lovers quarrel.” 

You place your hand over Vik’s. “We’re not lovers, Vik. Anakin is just a friend.” 

Anakin downs his shot. It burns going down, but no more than hearing you call him your friend. He’s too touch-starved to play this game any longer. His hold on you is possessive, but clearly not enough for you to get the message. 

“You might wanna tell him that,” Vik hooks his thumb at your boyfriend. 

“I insist, Vik,” your voice wavers only so much that Anakin would notice. You can’t keep up this act much longer. Not with one drink already in your system and Anakin’s hand searing into your skin. “He’s just here for a drink. I’d much rather continue our conversation. Anakin, would you mind leaving us?” 

“Yes, I mind,” Anakin replies sternly. 

“Excuse me?” you blink at him. His blue eyes are drowning in darkness and you hesitate to say your next thought. Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to say it anyway. “I kindly asked you to leave. I’d like to have another drink with Vik.” 

That’s it. He’s at the end of his fuse. Anakin turns to the Twi’lek, persuasion laced through his voice. “You want to go home. You’re not feeling well.” 

Vik promptly stands up from the stool. “I want to go home. I’m not feeling well.” 

“Anakin,” you say tentatively, knowing you’re in trouble. 

“I’ve had it up to here with you,” Anakin puts his hand above his head to show just how far you’ve tested his patience. “Let’s go.” 

You obey, making your way out of the club with Anakin’s hand still on your back. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until we get home,” he says into your ear. His hot breath makes you shudder. You nod and silently get into the speeder. 

Like the bubbles in a bottle of sparkling wine, excitement fizzes beneath your skin. You can’t wait for what Anakin has in store for you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As directed, you are silent until you enter your apartment. Which is really your shared apartment with Anakin when he’s not a the Temple. Little pieces of your Jedi knight litter the space that had once been your own. Trinkets that he’s collected from all over the galaxy, unfinished inventions that he tinkers with to destress. Not to mention his scent. It permeates every pillow and blanket that you own, making it that much easier to miss him when he’s gone. 

“Ani,” you begin gently, setting your bag on one of your dressers. 

“Ah-” he holds up his hand. “What did I say?” 

“You said you didn’t want to hear a word from me until we got home,” you answer immediately. “We’re home.” 

The corner of Anakin’s lip quirks up before he catches himself. You almost had him.“You think you’re clever? That mouth of yours gets you into trouble sometimes, doesn’t it?” 

You nod and gulp. Your thighs have become sticky with arousal given the fact that you chose not to wear anything beneath your dress. A fact that Anakin has yet to discover. He holds your chin in his gloved hand and angles your head upwards. “Good thing I have a better way of putting that mouth to use.” 

Anakin encourages you to your knees. The short hemline of your dress creeps up your thighs but not enough to reveal your exposed cunt. “No touching. Understand?” 

You nod again, sitting complacently on your heels as you watch Anakin remove his pants. Your lips are parted as you anticipate his length in your mouth. You claw at your thighs when you see the prettiest droplets of precum on the crown of his cock. It’s been too long, you think.

“I know it has, angel,” Anakin answers your thought. Damn him for getting in your head. No matter. He’d know you want him even without reading your thoughts.  You’re practically drooling for him. “Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me.” 

As soon as you drop your jaw, Anakin wastes no time putting his dick in your mouth. The weight of him on your tongue makes your pussy pathetically clench around nothing. Even though it’s been a while since you two have been intimate, the feeling, the taste, it’s familiar. It’s comforting. Even when his spongey tip is hitting the back of your throat when he ruts his hips forward. This makes you gag and grab onto his thighs for stability. 

“Fuck,” the profanity slips from Anakin’s lips. He can’t deny how much he’s missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. The sinful image of it being too big, too thick, making you choke. He relishes the way you whimper around him, how it sends shocks of pleasure through him as you beg for him to fuck your mouth. You want to wrap your hand around the base of him, but Anakin was clear in his instructions. No touching. Instead, you squeeze his thighs, urging him to continue. You relax your throat, opening wide so he can use you how he pleases. 

The friction of his length brushing past your soft lips makes his stomach tighten. His strong quads are contracting beneath your hands as he thrusts himself in and out of your mouth. His musk makes you dizzy. Your eyes are stinging and a lonesome tear falls down your cheek. “Finally decided to behave, hm?” he wipes your tear with his thumb. “Don’t think for a second that you’re forgiven for how you’ve been acting.” 

Anakin pulls his dick from your mouth, a messy string of saliva connecting the two of you before landing on your chin. Your chest is heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t even let you cum tonight. Do you think you deserve to cum?” 

“Please, Ani,” you answer quietly. Your throat is raw and you still can’t seem to get a good breath in your lungs. “I want to cum.” 

Anakin shakes his head. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to cum, I asked if you deserved to cum. Because from where I’m standing I don’t think you do. You’ve been a brat ever since you got home. Insisting that you can wear slutty little outfits just because it’s part of your job… flirting with that Twi at the bar… telling him I’m your friend,” Anakin spits.   

Your knees are aching but you don’t dare stand up. Anakin hasn’t been dominant in a long time and you want to savor this. “I had to seduce the Hutts, Ani. It was for the job.” 

“I’m done hearing your excuses.” Anakin wraps his artificial hand around your bicep, lifting you off the ground. “I want to hear you say you’re sorry for being a brat. For disrespecting me at the club.”

Maker, you wish you were still on the floor because Anakin’s words are making your knees buckle. “I’m sorry,” you say. 

“That’s not good enough,” he hisses. You love this side of Anakin: dark and demanding while knowing he’s going to take care of you when all is said and done. After all, he’s just your sweet boy from Tatooine. He never used to want to inflict pain on purpose. But over time, with your permission and encouragement, you allowed him to experiment with stirring desires. Spanking you, tying you up, being the dominating presence in the bedroom. Giving him all of the control he never felt under Watto. 

Anakin is not always dominant and you’re not always submissive. Sometimes he likes to be taken care of, likes it when you’re in control. Sometimes you two just make love, only concerned with making the other feel good with your bodies. But tonight, you understand very clearly that Anakin wants to dominate you. Reclaim you as his. 

“I’m sorry for being a brat, Anakin. I’m sorry I told the Twi’lek we weren’t together.”  

“What was his name?” Anakin inquires. You give him a puzzled look. “The Twi’lek. What was his name?” 

“V-Vik,” you stutter. 

Anakin tucks your hair behind your ear. “Good. Now forget it. The only name you’ll be needing tonight is mine. Understand?” 

“Yes,” you reply. Anakin raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Anakin,” you correct. 

“There’s hope for you yet,” he replies. “Let’s get this dress off of you.” 

You turn around so he can undo the zipper. Anakin’s lips ghost over your pulse, hands caressing your shoulders before finding the little tab at the top of your back. “I really do love this dress, baby. But I know it’ll look better on the floor.” He begins a trail of kisses down your spine as he drags the zipper down your back. The opening stops just above your hips and you remove your arms so Anakin can drop the fabric from you completely. When he sees your bare ass in front of his eyes, he almost doesn’t know what to do with himself. Or to you.

“You little minx,” he murmurs. “I should be mad at you… but you made it that much easier for me to access what I really want.” Anakin drags two fingers between the folds of your pussy to see how wet you are. His cock jumps with anticipation. Now he’s the one thinking it’s been too long. “Get on the bed, sweetheart. On your knees.” 

As you situate yourself on the bed, Anakin removes the rest of his clothing. The mattress dips beneath his weight and lays down beneath your legs, face right below your leaking cunt. “Sit,” is all he says. You’re wracking your brain trying to think of a time you’ve ever sat on Anakin’s face. Won’t it be too much? How will he breathe? You apparently take too long to follow orders as Anakin’s hands are on your hips and lowers you down to his mouth.

 “Oh, Anakin,” you whine, fingers fisting in his wavy hair reactively. You’d been aching and throbbing for any kind of contact and this almost already too much. His warm tongue swirls around your hole and he’s groaning into you, as if this is just as pleasurable for him as it is for you. He goes back and forth between using the tip of his tongue inside of you and using the flat of it to lap up all that you’re giving him. “Ani, that’s so good- I’m gonna-” your thighs begin to tremble as your pleasure grows. 

Swiftly, Anakin has you on your back and returns not only his mouth to your cunt, but two fingers as well. The new stretch makes you cry out his name once more. He drags his fingers along your wall while flicking your swollen clit with his tongue. His face is smeared with your juices and the sounds coming from his throat is intoxicating. You think he loves giving more than you love receiving. But then your back arches off of the bed when Anakin’s fingers hit that particular spot inside of you. Everything begins to unravel as Anakin cups your breast and finger fucks you until you see stars. “Anakin!” 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Anakin soothes, kissing the inside of your sticky thigh. “I never want you to forget…” another kiss on the other side, “that I’m the only one who can make you cum like that.”  

“Ani.” You roll your head against the mattress as your body begins to settle from your orgasm. Your fingers brush Anakin’s cheek as he kisses along your hip bone, across your soft tummy, and up the valley of your breasts. His leaking tip hits you between your folds, tempting you with what you crave so deeply. He presses a kiss over your thrumming pulse while running his hands over your whole body. The contrast between his warm hand and cool leather glove makes you shudder. You lift your hips in a meager attempt to get his cock inside of you.  “Ani, please.” 

Anakin’s lips smirk against your neck. “Please what? Please… split you open with my cock? Please… fuck you until your pussy is sore? Tell me. What do you want?” 

Oh. Anakin’s low, gruff voice is enough to make you tremble. But these words? There aren’t enough words in the galaxy to describe how they make you feel. He’s never spoken to you like this. Dirty talk is one thing but Maker, that is kriffing filth. And you want it. You want everything he said. You want to be fucked so well, so hard that all you can think about is Anakin and how good he makes you feel. Anakin grabs your hands, threading his fingers between yours and holds them by your head. His nose brushes yours and you’re acutely aware that he still hasn’t kissed you. The last time he kissed you was before you left for Nal Hutta two weeks ago. 

“I want you to kiss me, Ani,” you say sweetly. “And then… and then I want you to fuck me until I’m sore.” 

That’s enough for him. His lips finally slant over yours as he rolls his hips toward you, cock slipping into your hole with little resistence. It’s not that it’s an easy fit— it’s just that you’re always nice and ready for him. Always wet and always willing to feel that lovely stretch. You’re both moaning into each other when Anakin bottoms out. You clench your walls, eliciting a heavy groan from the bottom of Anakin’s throat. He starts slow, going nice and easy on you before setting a brutal pace. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he glides in and out of you. Your ankles lock around his waist and he wraps his arms around your back. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you. He drops his head beside yours, wild curls tickling your cheek as he begins thrusting into you just a bit harder and faster. 

“Oh, Maker, Ani-” you squeal. “It’s g-good, so good.” 

Anakin’s hips halt. He lifts his head and stares at you with brows knit together. “Just good?” he chuckles dryly. “Good isn’t good enough.” 

“That- that’s not what I meant, Ani-” you’re cut off when he pulls out of you and roughly grabs your hips and turns you over. 

“You and I both know I’m better than good,” Anakin’s words are covered with venom because how dare you insult him? With one hand still holding strongly onto your hip, he drags his cock through your slick folds but has no mercy with easing into you. He thrusts into you sharply, making you gasp and grip the sheets for purchase. 

“Anakin!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes together so tightly colors dance behind your lids. Anakin’s hips snap against your ass harhsly as he holds firmly to your hips.  

“Remind me of word you used, sweetheart. Good? Is this good enough for you, baby? Or do you need it harder?” 

Harder? He can go harder? Of course he can. Anakin Skywalker wields more strength and power than you can possibly understand. You’re not sure he even knows the full extent of his abilities. “Mmh,” you mumble against the mattress. “Hard- oh, Maker!” 

Anakin pulls on your hair, bringing your back up against his chest. “What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear and your head falls back against his shoulder. You’re absolutely blissed out when his hand finds your tight bundle of nerves.

“Hard- harder,” you fumble the word again because the pressure on your clit sends you soaring. Now coupled with the intense friction of Anakin’s relentless pace, you indeed feel like you’re being split in half. 

“This is ruining you, isn’t it? Letting me fuck you so hard you can’t even speak…” Anakin nips at your neck, leaving bruises only he can make on you. “Mine. You’re mine. Your body, your pussy, your orgasms. It’s all mine. I’m the one you’ll come home to. Every. Single. Time,” he accentuates those last three words with three blunt thrusts. He releases his seed, warmth spreading through your belly. 

“Yours,” you say through a whimper. You’re fluttering around him, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers through Anakin’s hair. “Love- fuck, Ani-” you can’t even finish your thought as you orgasm abruptly. It wracks through your whole body and you are certain to collapse if it weren’t for Anakin’s strong arms supporting you. “Ani… Anakin…” 

“I know,” he soothes, his voice returning to the gentle cadence you’re so used to. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He lays you back down on the bed, his cock coming out of you feels like a void you immediately want refilled. As if what he’s just given you isn’t enough. Aftershocks course through your limbs and you instinctively curl your legs inward. Anakin draws you near, resting your head on his chest. He runs his hand over your hair. “Was it too much?” 

“No,” you whisper, fingers drawing swirls on Anakin’s toned abdomen. “It was perfect, Ani. I missed you so much. I hated that you were mad at me.”

Anakin sighs. “I was never truly mad at you, sweetheart. I was… I was mad at myself for overreacting. Because I know you’re right.” 

You perk your head up. “What? What did you just say?” 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes but flashes the smile that still makes you swoon. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

“Please? Just once,” you tut your bottom lip out and bat your lashes. Oh, how can he say no to that? 

“You were right.” 

“Of course, I was,” you say smugly. “I just had to let you come to the conclusion on your own.” 

Anakin pinches your side playfully. “You have very interesting methods.” 

“And you don’t?” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Anakin kisses the top of your head, followed by a yawn. 

“You sleepy, Ani?” 

“Mhm,” he hums. “Very sleepy.” 

Your sweet boy is back. And you wish your sweet boy only the sweetest of dreams. “I love you, Anakin Skywalker.”

MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED :D

◂ anakin masterlist ▸ main masterlist

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen. 

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor. 

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown. 

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid. 

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around. 

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband. 

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association. 

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted. 

Or so he thought. 

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer. 

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully. 

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare. 

Where did that come from? 

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man. 

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush. 

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though. 

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.” 

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted. 

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care. 

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.” 

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow. 

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied. 

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy. 

He did not like what the other man insinuated. 

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.” 

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?” 

"So were you." 

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice. 

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth. 

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again. 

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him. 

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart? 

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him. 

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.” 

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions. 

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him. 

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

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[wanderersbell]

wanderer x reader

summary: sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t looking, he makes his vision glow and dim softly in a steady rhythm. the illusion of a heartbeat.

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1,175

a/n: hellooo first time posting i am terrified of my writing being percieved but i’m full sending it and might never do this again so slay ig. scara is kinda ooc (he is not being a jerk lmao)

sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t looking, he makes his vision glow and dim softly in a steady rhythm. the illusion of a heartbeat. 

it’s one of the many things you’ve noticed he does in the time that’s passed since you met him. he’s complex, stubborn, hard to read, prone to outbursts, and yet it’s the small actions and glimpses of vulnerability that remind you how truly human he is. no matter his origins, what his body may be made out of, or how many lies have poisoned his consciousness, he feels everything the way a human does. 

you don’t get to see it often, whenever he knows you’re looking he makes a huge show of being a brat and flaunting an arrogance that seemingly never left him after his loss of divinity that he knows irks you to no end when you just want a solid answer out of him, but there are times he isn’t aware he’s being perceived. 

you have a tendency to become so absorbed in a task that you lose all situational awareness and he knows this well by now, choosing those moments to let his guard down while you don’t pay him any mind. he’s shown you a side of himself that’s remained previously undiscovered until he grew undeniably fond of you over time. he shows this in the way he bounces his leg when you’re hurt or not feeling well, the way he disappears off to sumeru city when you claim that nothing sounds good to eat only to return with the pita pockets he knows you’ll eat no matter what, in the way he lets you stroke and place featherlight kisses against his knuckles when he wakes up from a nightmare and looks down at his hands that have done so many cruel things and calls himself a monster. 

that last one has only happened twice thus far, and he always refuses to meet your eyes for a while the next morning, but his tolerance for your small shows of affection and comfort are welcome progress in comparison to the offense he used to take from it when he only saw it as pity. after all, he hates being looked down on. however, actions often speak better than words. 

you know he doesn’t understand why you seem to care for him, and you know that it’ll take time for him to fully open up, which is why you make sure to give him the moments you’re occupied with other things to unmask and decompress and never interrupt him when you accidentally tune back into reality, but it’s only a matter of time before you give yourself away. 

and now, while you watch him from where you sit at the bank untangling a fishing net, you think this might be the day you finally do. 

he’s standing a short distance away under the shade of a tree where he was initially scrutinizing your work and making snarky comments about it that fell on deaf ears as you paid him no mind, but had at some point fallen silent and let his tense shoulders drop as he watched the wildlife around him. 

the dappled sunlight through the leaves above him dance along the top of his hat with the movement of the wind and soft metal chimes can be heard as the ornaments on his hat sway with it, but it’s the soft sound of elemental energy that had taken your focus away from the net and when your attention fell on him, he was doing it again, making his vision beat lightly against his chest. the sight makes your heart clench and a lump form in your throat, watching him gaze so softly down at the item hanging down from his shoulder. he holds his right hand underneath it gently, almost as if even the slightest of touches would throw off the rhythm, and it’s in this moment that you release a sigh a bit too loud that has his eyes snapping to yours in an instant. 

for a moment he looks like a child that got caught stealing sweets, eyes wide and body frozen in place, before he eventually frowns and sends you a sharp glare while turning his body away from you and crossing his arms with a huff, pretending to go back to staring off into the distance. 

your feet start carrying you to him before your mind can even process the movement but he keeps himself faced away from you until you move in front of him. he looks unsure and hesitant, but there is an undeniable level of trust that had built up between you two that kept him from growing instinctively defensive. 

“what?” he demands, refusing to meet your eyes. 

“do it again.” 

when his gaze finally lands on you he looks almost taken aback. “why?”

you shake your head. “just do it, please.”

he looks like he wants to argue, but decides to keep his mouth shut and lets his arms fall back down to his sides in defeat when he realizes you’re dead serious. slowly, almost shyly, his vision starts glowing with anemo energy again, steady and strong. when you reach your hand up softly to touch it he tenses up and almost backs away, but after a reassuring glance from you holds himself in place and nervously waits to see what you’re trying to do. 

you lean closer as your fingertips make contact with the metal casing around it, feeling the rush of energy against your hand every time it brights and dims again. you might be imagining it, but the rhythm seems to pick up the closer you get. 

when your warm lips meet the cool glass against his chest, it reacts immediately; the elemental energy starts pulsating faster and faster inside of the vision while the wanderer stiffens before you, entirely frozen on the spot as his ‘heart’ beats wildly at your boldness. his expression remains almost entirely neutral, so much so that you probably wouldn’t have been able to tell he was even flustered had his vision not given it away, and the thought makes you smile softly knowing he can’t hide how these small shows of affection get to him now. the flush rising in his cheeks is proof of the fact that he’s more than aware of this, and he wastes no time shoving you away and yanking his hat down to cover his face while he turns away in embarrassment. 

instead of saying anything, you clasp your hands behind your back and return to the riverside where you left the tangled net, and you can literally feel the way his eyes are burning holes into the back of your head when you pick it up and start picking at the knots again. 

what you don’t see is the way he stares at you with pure wonder and adoration spilling over in his indigo irises, hand resting over the place your lips had just been as if he can hold the feeling there forever.

[spookypete-94]

Nightgown (Ghost x Fem!reader)

Been trying to find the urge to get back into the groove of wanting to write and had a short mind blurb I wanted to work on.

SFW, implied smut

"Ah c'mon lass, one pint canna' hurt," Soap tried hard to barter to get you to join them at a local bar near the hotel the TF141 and yourself was staying at.

You had assisted them with a mission working for Laswell, and honestly was exhausted after spending almost a month with them. Being shot at day in and day out seemed to make one constantly feel that way. Now, finally, you were in a safe space with no threats? You were going to take full advantage of it and relax.

"Nah, think I'm going to go up to my room and put a nightgown on and get into bed," you sighed back to him.

"A nightgown huh?" he teased, elbowing you in the side.

Instantly, your brain understood where his just went and felt awkward and flushed.

"None of that now," you said shutting him down ,"its a straight up old mumu."

Soap is silent for a minute. "A mumu?" his tone showing the confusion you had just impaled upon him, not familiar with the term.

"Google it, I'm not explaining it to you," you said reslinging your TAC bag with your items over your shoulder again. "You lot have a good night, be safe and be careful." and waved over your shoulder leaving the four of them standing in the hotel lobby. Gaz lightly shoving Soap's shoulder for picking on you.

Entering the hotel room, finally decompressing, and showering you pulled your nightgown out of the bag.

It was most definitely NOT a mumu. Your brain had come up with the worst nightgown image you could to cut the banter from Soap. The nightgown you had was black lace, see through, and short. Being around testosterone, bullets and sweat- it was nice to feel feminine once in awhile. This was a treat to yourself for a job well done. No one injured or lost on this mission.

But upon doing so, there was a knock on your door. Hesitantly, you peeked through the peep hole worried who could be at your door. A pair of warm brown eyes stared back through the small hole and into the depth's of your own.

Instantly you knew who they belonged to, that of the large brooding man clad in black at all times known as Ghost- or better yet to you Simon.

In the time you both had spent with the 141, you and Ghost had grown the closest. Taking the time to get to know each other in the down time of being deployed had started something to bloom for him.

"Simon?" Opening the door only slightly so your head could peak around at him. "Thought you were going to the bar?"

"Thought you were wearin' an ugly nightgown?" He instantly rebutaled making your face heat. He had called your bluff, how had he known?

"Can tell when your bullshittin'," his tone matter of fact as he gently pushed the door open making you let him into your room. The large figure of the man looming over you, his eyes wandering your body in the black lace as it clung to you.

"Needed to see for myself," large hands on your waist and backing you up to the bed, lightly pushing you down once the mattress hit the back of your knees. "And I'm not disappointed."

Oh, how small you are under his large frame.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[joemothersfavoritechild]

“across the street” pt. 2

-3k-ish words

-mike schmidt x fem!reader

-no trauma au

an: thanks for all the love on my last post!! i took some inspiration from a few joel miller fics for this one. also, referring to the ending, gotta let it marinate or sum. and if you get the orange reference, marry me.

summary: you have a late night phone call with yk who, and build furniture in the morning.

part one is here!

————————————————————————————

You plopped down in your chair, sighing while rubbing hand sanitizer over your hands. Your shift had been busy as hell, this being the first break you had all day, and it was only halfway over. You wiped your now clean hands over your eyes, trying to rub the tired soreness out of them. At least the pay is good, you thought.

Your coworker calling your name pulled you away from your thoughts.

“25 wants you again.” They said.

“Why me?” You whined.

“I don’t know, I think she prefers women.” They answered your rhetorical, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fuck me, I’m going to have to take my lunch after this. I’m never working another Sunday.” You said, standing up on your practically creaking legs.

This was how the rest of your afternoon went, running in all directions like a chicken with its head cut off. “23 wants an ice cream,” “25 pulled out her IV again,” “Call security on 26, he’s trying to leave.” It was an absolute shit show, you hardly had a chance to see the time on your phone, let alone check for a text that you were desperate to receive.

Your drive home was quiet, soft music playing to hopefully decompress you. It always seemed to help. You pulled into your driveway, noticing the lights on at a certain someone’s house across the street, his old Accord telling you that he was home. You turned your car off, trying to stop looking at it from your rearview.

Walking into your house wasn’t as satisfying as you’d hoped, boxes still covering the floor. You took your shoes off as you set your work bag on the ground. You looked at your bed frame again in the dark, not bothering to turn a light on. Was a day too early to expect a message? Was that considered desperate? Probably, you thought. But fuck, you were so desperate. He checked all the boxes,

cute? : check

siblings? : check

caring? : check

a little mean? : check

dorky as hell? : check

abandonment issues? : probably check!

You forced yourself to pull your eyes off the box. As the saying goes, a watched fish doesn’t get caught.

That’s not right, you think. Your tired brain can’t decipher what you were trying to go for, but you knew it would’ve worked.

Anyways, constantly thinking about someone texting you doesn’t help anything. You plugged your phone into the charger near the couch, purposefully ignoring staring at it for too long.

Your eyes fell back to the boxes surrounding you. You passed them all, going straight to your bathroom to shower.

The shower was the right call, you decided. Scorching water loosened your muscles and kept your mind in the present. Washing the outside world off your skin was the highlight of your day.

You got out of the shower, eventually. The warm water didn’t last as long as you had hoped, though it did try. Your nearly hour-long shower would overwhelm any water heater on the market. You quickly dried yourself off, taking the time to brush your teeth and apply your skincare before wrapping your towel around yourself and stepping into your bedroom. You threw on some pajamas from your suitcase that moved with you; pajama pants and an old shirt.

You balled up your work clothes into your towel and put them all in the laundry basket in the corner of your room, already beginning to overflow. You reminded yourself to start the laundry sometime tomorrow as you walked back to your temporary bed, the large green couch in your living room.

You pulled back the covers on the couch, piling into it. You had completely decked it out; two blankets, a comforter, two pillows (one for your head, one for between your legs), and the fan dialed up. You closed your eyes, listening to the white noise of the fan above you.

You were interrupted by the shrill noise of your phone ringing behind you. You groaned, folding your blankets over so you could get off the couch and walk to the charger. You ripped your phone off the charger, taking it with you as you laid back into your bed. You re-adjusted your blankets before pulling the phone under your ear and swiping to accept the call.

“Hello?” You said groggily.

“Hey.” A voice responded. It took you a moment, but eventually, you recognized it. You were suddenly awake with nervousness.

“Hey, Mike.”

“Hi. Um, I texted you,” He said, sounding more like a question than a comment. “A few times, not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” He joked.

You paused, trying to quickly check your messages.

“You there?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I’ve been working all day. It was super busy, so I didn’t have time to check my phone, and when I got home all I was thinking about was sleep.” You described.

“No need to be sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay.” You responded.

“Good, good,” He pauses. “So, um, how was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.” You summarize, hearing him laugh in the background.

“Tell me about it.”

So, you did. You proceeded to tell him all the gritty details about your job. What your coworkers are like, the patients that you had to deal with, the frequent fliers, all of it. He asked a lot of questions, making you feel more comfortable rambling on to him.

“What’d you have for lunch?” He asked.

“I had leftover wingstop, I barely have any food at the house.”

“What’s your order?”

“Eight-piece boneless, classic hot. With fries, ranch, and a huge coke. It was amazing,” You said, practically salivating remembering it. “What about you and Abs?” You asked.

“It was very fancy, I don’t know if you’re prepared to hear me talk about it, you might be jealous,” He said sarcastically. “I made cheese quesadillas.”

You laughed a little too long at that, surprised. He was funny, another check.

You talked on the phone for a while, so long that you were talking about the most boring stuff. Like how Abby was a picky eater, and it annoyed Mike because all he wanted to do was eat a good burger now and again. It was sickly sweet and felt like being a teenager again. Whispering as to not wake your parents up, hoping that they wouldn’t catch you up past your bedtime.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you fell asleep on the phone. Mike was talking about something, maybe about the tv show he had been watching. You’re not exactly positive, but you know that you passed out cold.

Your eyes fluttered open, the phone still pressed up against your cheek, warm from the contact. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your dream in your mind. You had to think hard, as it was delicate. If you let it go, you’d never remember what it was.

It was a good dream, as most of yours tended to be. You didn’t remember a lot, only pieces of it. But you knew Mike was there. You knew that he had led you to your bed, pulling you under the covers with him. You talked, cuddling close to him. God, it had felt so real. You could practically see the lines under his eyes and the pores on his nose. You smiled, but this felt a little creepy at this point. Borderline delusional, your mind added. You barely knew him and you were already dreaming about him.

You grabbed the phone from under your face, groaning as it got unstuck from your skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t dead. You unlocked it, taking the opportunity to look at the texts that you had gotten the night before.

Yesterday, 12:36 pm: hey, this is mike. i’ll need you on the weekends from 8 am-4 pm. and idc that you said not to pay you, i’m building your bed too.

Yesterday, 2:49 pm: you okay?

Yesterday, 5:03 pm: not to be creepy, but i think i’m going to call you. you’re worrying me a little lol

Today, 1:45 am: i think you fell asleep, i’ll talk to you in the morning :)

You smiled, making a contact for him. “mike <3” was now typing. Three little dots popped up on your screen and you quickly swiped out in nervousness. You opened it again when you got a notification.

Today, 10:23 am: i dropped abby off for school and slept in a little, is it okay if i come over to build that bed frame for you?

You smiled again, quickly replying to make up for last night.

Today, 10:24 am: yeah, ofc. give me a few minutes to wake up lol, i need to brush my teeth and clean up for a second.

He replied immediately.

Today, 10:24 am: lmk when you’re ready

You willed yourself to stop smiling, god it had been too long. You hardly knew how to act with a potential date.

“Oh, god.” You muttered to yourself, realizing you had to talk to him. Why did you have to talk to a man to get a boyfriend? Why couldn’t it just happen telepathically?

You sighed, rolling off the couch. You plugged your phone back into the charger, making your way to the bathroom. You completed your morning routine and ran to your bedroom to pick something out to wear for the day. You decided to go for casual, grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. Didn’t want to seem too desperate. You pulled your socks up your feet, laughing at yourself.

You grabbed a quick breakfast from your kitchen, consisting of leftover cookies and a slice of cold pizza. You tried your best to tidy your place up, moving boxes to the corner of the living room. Running down the hallway to your bedroom with your boxed bed frame in hand, you placed it on the floor, taking the other boxes and moving them to the hallway. You scrubbed your toilet and sink, turning on the air fresheners you had placed around the house.

You washed your hands, drying them before returning to the living room. You texted Mike, letting him know that you were ready. He liked the text message, and in less than two minutes he was knocking on your door.

You eyed the door at the noise. Jesus, he was not playing around. You took another deep breath, opening the door to see him standing there with a small smile. He went for casual too, you noted. He wore a black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. He held a bag, which you assumed was full of tools.

You smiled at him as a greeting and opened the door wider to allow him to walk into your house.

“Hey.” He said as you walked past you.

“Hi, thanks for coming so quickly.” You responded. “You didn’t have to, the payment feels premature.” You joked, shutting the front door. He looked a you for a second while taking his shoes off at the entryway.

“Shut up, you can’t sleep on the couch for a week”

“I totally can.” You bite back.

“You won’t, where’s your bedroom?” He finished, looking at you again.

You were shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm up. The comment made your head spin. Fuck, could he tell that you liked that?

You said nothing, ignoring his little smirk as you walked him to your bedroom. He followed behind you, dropping the bag on the floor with a small thump.

“Do you need any help or something?” You asked finally, breaking the tense silence.

“No, I’m good. I’ve done a lot of stuff like this,” He answered, shrugging. “You could put on some background music?” He suggested.

“That, I can do.”

You nodded, pulling your phone out of your pocket. You hesitated, before choosing a slower playlist of yours. Something calm, that you didn’t have to focus on. He nodded in enjoyment, then began to open the box that held your bed frame. He spilled the contents onto the floor, then kneeled on the ground. He started pulling stuff out of his bag. You guessed correctly, it was full of tools.

You just watched, sitting down against the wall of your room. It was attractive, him expertly putting your bed frame together. He was good with his hands, you wondered what else he was good at. He looked at you after a moment.

“You just gonna watch?”

“If that’s okay.” You shrugged, he nodded at your sort of question. He tried to hide his smile.

He was going to town, drilling, piecing parts together, all while completely ignoring the instructions. He didn’t need them.

After a while, you could tell he was getting hot. His black shirt was sticking to his skin. You hated to admit that it did something to you. You felt a warmth settle in your stomach and tried your best to will it away. Your eyes settled on his back, looking up to his neck when he turned towards you.

“Why’re looking at me like that?” He asked, eyes narrowed out of curiosity.

You made eye contact with him like a deer in headlights. Smiling at you, he laughed a little. Your words were stuck in your throat, embarrassed about being caught.

“Um, do you want some water?” You settled on.

“Sure.” He answered, chuckling at your suddenly shy demeanor.

You stood up off the floor and walked out of your room, closing the door behind you. What the fuck was that? You scolded yourself, internally. Now he was going to think that you were a horny weirdo. I mean, you were, but he didn’t need to know that yet.

You shook your head at yourself as you poured him a glass. This was ridiculous, you needed to chill out.

You came back into the bedroom and handed him the glass. He took it from you gratefully, fingers brushing over yours as he grabbed it. Telling you a small “thank you,” he brought the glass to his lips and began to drink greedily. You watched him as he downed the glass, some dripping down his chin.

When he was finished, he wiped a hand over his stubble. He looked over to you, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He held the glass out to you and you took it, quickly walking out of the room.

You placed the glass in the sink, blinking to try and bring yourself back to life. How did someone make drinking water look so good? How was that even possible? And god, the look he gave you.

You needed to get it together before you blew it. Talk to him, say something, anything other than just fucking staring at him.

You walked back into the room with a mission, you were going to talk to him. Taking your spot on the floor, you cleared your throat.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” You decided on.

He barely paused before answering, “Definitely pasta, like a good chicken alfredo.”

“Shit, that’s a good answer. I’m really into sushi right now. Can’t afford it, but into it.” You said, smiling at his willingness to answer.

The stupid questions continued for a few minutes. The two of you got to know the smallest details of your likes and dislikes. Turns out, Mike can’t stand the color yellow but loves orange. He’s not much of a drinker, mainly because he can’t afford it, but he does occasionally smoke weed. He’s a cat person but would get a dog if Abby asked for one. It killed you when he talked about his sister because it was so obvious how much he loved her.

Eventually, he finished your bed frame. The gentleman that he is forced him to carry your mattress in from the laundry room, helping you set that up too. Mike may have been on the shorter side, but he was strong as hell. The two of you put on your sheets, blankets, pillows, and finally your comforter. It was almost too domestic, too real.

When you were finished, you didn’t want him to leave. You think he felt the same. This was confirmed when he saw the tv sitting in your closet.

“Do you want me to mount that for you?” He asked.

I want you to mount me, you fought against saying.

“That would be great.” You agreed.

Mike probably spent three hours helping you put your bedroom together, setting up shelves, arranging your cabinets, and helping you put your pictures and posters up while you talked his ear off.

Even though you told him a million times that he didn’t need to, he hung your clothes up in your closet while you folded the rest to go in your new dresser. Finally, your room was fully decorated and unpacked.

He rubbed his hands together, settling on the end of your bed. You sat next to him.

“Thank you, seriously. I was dreading doing all of that by myself.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

You both looked at each other for a second too long, the tension between the two of you becoming thick. You took breaks from looking at his eyes by moving down to his lips. You took a deep breath, noticing him moving closer to you.

He hesitated, pushing a stray hair behind your ear instead. His hand lingered on your face, eventually moving down your arm to put your hand in his. He interlocked your fingers together, pulling it close to him and pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles. He held you there, hand resting on his chin. This was almost more intimate than a kiss, you thought.

“Do you not-” You started, getting interrupted.

“I want to, believe me.”

You looked at him, willing him to continue.

“I don’t want you to think that’s all this is.” He explained, you nodded. You know that this was him being respectful, but it made you want to tear his clothes off even more. Forbidden fruit, if you will.

“Let me take you on a date, tomorrow on my lunch break. I know a place you’d like.” He continued.

“Okay.” You said, smiling.

————————————————————————————

**i do not give anyone permission to use my work as your own, respectfully

this belongs to @joemothersfavoritechild **

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Oooh you know I have to jump in here to book my travel package

How about Tech with fluff and pining on Alderaan and/or Bespin. And could I pretty please sprinkle in some hand holding??

💕

Thank you for booking with Soaring's Tours. We're now ready to board your flight. Please mind the gap between the transport and the platform. We wish you a pleasant journey!

Token of Affection

They say actions speak louder than words. When you unexpectedly join Tech in the cockpit, your presence unravels the intricate emotions he's been struggling to convey.

Pairing: Tech x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, pining, idiots in love, comfort.

The lights of hyperspace streaked through the cockpit, the hum of the Marauder’s engines a familiar white noise. Opting to take the first watch hadn’t been an issue - if anything, Tech appreciated the time alone to decompress after the mission. That, and it gave him the time to tinker.

Hunched over Gonky, who was happy to be used as a makeshift workbench, Tech twirled the soldering iron between his fingers before making a few more adjustments to his latest creation. No matter how many times he thought he’d finished it, he always found something to tweak. Objectively, he knew it was because he was nervous about delaying the inevitable, but it was difficult to move past those feelings.

It had to be perfect. You deserved nothing less.

Setting down the soldering iron, he leaned back in the pilot’s seat, critical eyes roving over his handiwork. It hadn’t been difficult to find a piece of doonium – the entire ship was made of it, after all - but he’d decided to contrast it with duraplast from his spare set of armour. A sliver off one of his pauldrons wouldn’t impede the functionality, but it did add a more personal touch.

With a sigh, his thoughts turned to you, as they so often did these days.

Tech couldn’t shake the feeling of longing, lifting a hand to adjust his goggles, wishing he could just express what he felt. But the words never seemed to come out right, and he feared pushing you away with his clumsy attempts at affection. So, instead, he’d poured his emotions into this delicate little bracelet, hoping it would somehow convey the depth of his feelings.

But he couldn’t deny how many of them you brought out in him - your laughter so often echoed through his ship, your presence lightening even the heaviest of missions. There was a warmth in your smile that lingered in his thoughts, a comfort he longed for in the vast emptiness of space. He was created for war, his whole life dedicated to it – and while he was proud to fight alongside his brothers for the Republic, he couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more from life.

Reaching out, he scooped up the bracelet, the metal cool against his skin. It was a simple design, but every curve and line held a piece of his heart, a silent plea for understanding. Would you see beyond the surface and understand the depth of his affection? Or would it just be another trinket?

The soft hum of the ship’s engines filled the silence, and Tech allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, eyes closing as his longing for you washed over him like a tidal wave. He wished he could find the courage to tell you how much you meant to him, how your presence filled a void he didn’t even realise existed until you came into his life. His brothers knew about his feelings; nothing ever got past them. And he appreciated their assistance – pairing you up for missions, steering you in his direction whenever you had a question – but it would likely go nowhere unless he took the leap himself.

In the heart of the ship, you rolled over in your bunk. Sleep was evading you, adrenaline still coursing through your body. You couldn’t shake the image of Tech from your thoughts, his focused demeanour on the last mission. There was something about how he immersed himself in everything he was doing, a passion that drew you to him. You couldn’t deny the flutter of anticipation whenever you were paired with him, the way his presence seemed to calm the chaos around you.

There were moments when his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary, when his touch ignited a spark of something more profound. Yet, like two stars destined to orbit each other but never collide, the timing never seemed quite right.

Leaning over the edge of your bunk, your gaze lingered on the closed cockpit doors – a courtesy whoever was on watch abided by so as not to disturb those resting. The urge to get up and see him gnawed at you, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. What if this was when everything fell into place? When the unspoken words between you found their voice?

But doubt crept in, its tendrils weaving through your thoughts like cavenna vines. What if Tech didn’t feel the same way? What if your feelings were nothing more than wishful thinking born out of the intensity of your shared experiences? The fear of rejection loomed large, casting a shadow over the fragile hope that fluttered in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling of your bunk. The seconds stretched into minutes as you battled with yourself.

“Kriff it.” You finally reached a decision, pushing off your standard-issue blanket and swinging your legs over the edge of the bunk. Determinedly, you made your way to the cockpit, your footsteps echoing softly. As you approached, you could hear the faint sounds of activity from within – the occasional clink of metal and machinery’s low hum. Pausing at the threshold, you took a moment to compose yourself, steadying the erratic beat of your heart.

Pushing open the door, you entered the cockpit, the streaks of hyperspace casting a cool glow over the familiar surroundings. Your gaze fell upon Tech, who sat in the pilot’s seat, engrossed in his work, his brow furrowed in concentration.

For a moment, you simply stood there, content to watch him work, curious about what he was tinkering with this time. Then, gathering your courage, you cleared your throat, announcing your presence.

Startled by your sudden appearance, Tech’s hands jerked, nearly dropping the delicate bracelet he’d meticulously adjusted. Quickly, he attempted to conceal it beneath a pile of tools, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to regain his composure. “Oh, uh, hello.” He stammered, his voice betraying his surprise as he swivelled in his seat to face you. His goggles slipped slightly, revealing wide eyes as he attempted to mask his flustered state with a forced smile

“Hey.” You replied, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach at the sight of him. Something was endearing about his awkwardness, making your heart skip a beat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tech’s fingers fumbled for a moment before he pushed his goggles back up, his mind racing as he attempted to divert your attention away from the hidden bracelet. “No, it is fine.” He assured, his tone a touch too casual as he gestured vaguely towards the cockpit controls. “I am merely working on a few adjustments. You know how it is.”

You nodded, though the tension in the air was palpable, a silent question hanging between you both. Something felt different tonight, a shift in the atmosphere that left you both teetering on the edge of uncertainty. “Mind if I join you?” You asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Tech hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the concealed bracelet, before finally nodding. “Of course.” He answered, his voice quieter than usual as he shifted in his seat. He wasn’t used to being nervous, and it greatly unsettled him.

Pleased that you could stay, you sank into the co-pilot’s seat, opting for a safe conversation topic. “What have you been working on?” You gestured to the scattered tools atop Gonky.

Tech relaxed marginally at the change of subject, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Just some routine maintenance.” He explained. “Nothing too exciting.”

Despite his attempt at nonchalance, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his sudden apprehension than met the eye.

Suddenly, Gonky released a series of beeps and shifted from foot to foot. Tech quickly glanced at the droid, trying to decipher its behaviour. Gonky wasn’t prone to random malfunctions; it had to be something else. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Tech realised the meddlesome droid was intentionally disrupting his tools.

“What’s wrong, Gonk?” You asked, brows furrowing in concern at his unusual behaviour.

Tech scrambled for an explanation. “He is experiencing a minor glitch, nothing to worry about.” He covered; his voice strained as he attempted to keep his composure.

As Gonky wobbled, the tools stacked upon him slipped, and Tech’s attempt to conceal the bracelet was foiled. The delicate piece of jewellery glistened in the bright lights of hyperspace.

You couldn’t help but notice the gleam of metal amidst the chaos. Your curiosity piqued, you leaned in for a closer look, using one hand to push aside an errant tool, your breath catching in your throat as you realised what it was: a bracelet, intricately crafted with a mix of materials, its design striking yet delicate. Gonky settled, and your mind raced with questions, uncertainty gnawing at you as you glanced from the bracelet to Tech, who appeared uncomfortably flustered under your scrutiny.

Tech’s attempt to conceal the bracelet only fuelled your intrigue further, and a million thoughts raced through your mind. Who could it be for? Was there someone else he cared for? The idea of Tech being romantically interested in someone else sent a pang of jealousy through you, though you tried to suppress it.

Trying to maintain an air of casual indifference, you forced a smile, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of uncertainty. “That’s a beautiful bracelet.” You remarked, your voice carefully neutral. “Who’s the lucky recipient?”

Tech’s gaze darted nervously between you and the bracelet, his discomfort palpable. “Oh, uh, it is just a... project.” He stammered, his words faltering as he struggled to come up with a convincing explanation. “Nothing...nothing important.”

“Well, whoever receives this ‘project’ is very lucky.” You stated, not believing for one moment that it was merely something he was creating to pass the time, but you wouldn’t pry.

Silence lingered for a moment, the air uncomfortable, before Tech let out a small sigh. There was no point trying to hide it anymore, no point in lying to you. Picking up the bracelet, Tech took advantage of your outstretched arm, carefully fastening his creation around your wrist. “My research indicated that giving tokens of affection to those you care greatly about is important.” He explained, double-checking the fastening, head tilted downward so he wouldn’t have to witness your reaction. “I do not have much, but I hope this is satisfactory.”

Your heart skipped a beat as Tech fastened the bracelet around your wrist, his words sinking in like a warm embrace. The weight of his gesture left you speechless, a rush of emotion flooding through you as you stared down at the intricate design encircling your wrist. It was more than just a token; it was a silent declaration of his feelings laid bare for you to see.

Touched by his vulnerability, you gently lifted his chin so he could meet your gaze. “Tech.” You began, your voice soft but steady. “This means more to me than you could ever know.”

Tech’s eyes softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features as he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of your acceptance. With a shy smile, he held your gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. “I care for you more deeply than I ever thought possible.” He admitted, his words laced with sincerity. “And I hope, perhaps, that you feel the same way.”

Your heart swelled with affection, the weight of his confession lifting the lingering doubts that had plagued your mind. Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss against his cheek. “I do.” You whispered, voice low and soft. “I care for you more than words can say.”

As your lips brushed against his cheek, a rush of warmth flooded Tech, dispelling the lingering shadows of doubt clouding his mind. He could scarcely believe that you felt the same way, that his clumsy attempt at expressing his affection had been met with such genuine reciprocation. It was a moment he had longed for.

With a soft exhale, Tech’s shy smile turned more confident and he reached out, his hand finding yours as if drawn by an invisible thread, fingers intertwining in a gesture that spoke volumes.

There, in the quiet solitude of the cockpit, amidst the endless expanse of hyperspace, something beautiful bloomed.

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[mandarinmoons]

Summary: After Spencer comes home from a long case you help him decompress

Spencer was off for nearly a week for a case and every time you got to talk to him you swore you could hear the life being drained from his voice. The case they had was a bit of a rough one and you were concerned about how Spencer was holding up, that’s why you made sure that when he got home he would be spoiled rotten in love & care.

When Spencer texted you on the day that he would be coming home you immediately started prepping for his return. Fresh bed sheets, a new bottle of bubble bath and buying groceries to make one of his favorite meals. You lit some scented candles to set the mood and the cooking went underway.

While chopping the vegetables you heard the door open and close and your head perked up, you walked to the doorway and saw Spencer trying to get his shoes off.

“Hey,” you walked over and helped Spencer undo the laces of his converse, he seemed to do a double knot on them this time and it took a good minute to untie them.

Standing up you looked at Spencer and you could see it in his face that he was screaming on the inside to get some sleep.

“Oh sweetie,” you took Spencer’s head into your hands and brought him in for a hug which made Spencer wrap his arms around you. He rested his head on your shoulder as you caressed his head.

“I have a few surprises for you.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and kissed the side of his head, “C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom.”

Walking into the bathroom you set up the bath and helped Spencer out of his clothes and get settled into the bath.

“I’ll go and get dinner ready, stay here as long as you need,” before you were able to leave Spencer grabbed your hand and pulled you closer,

“Please stay, for a little?”

You smiled and perched down on the edge of the bathtub,

“Of course.”

You helped Spencer wash his hair and you noticed how he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

After bathing and getting dressed in comfier clothes Spencer lied down on the couch while you finished making dinner in the kitchen.

Nearly an hour later the food was done and as you walked to the living room you heard light snoring as you walked closer to the couch. Spencer was fast asleep, his arms and legs hanging off the side of the couch while his cheek was pressed up against the cushion. You walked over and sat down next to him and brushed away the now curly bits of hair from his face and ran your thumb over his cheek. Spencer stirred and fluttered his eyes open, leaning against your hand.

“Hey, do you want some dinner?”

“Not right now… can you stay here?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer moved to the side as you lay down with him and he wrapped his arms around you and cuddled closer.

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?”

“You know, you’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

“Spence…”

“I mean it. If I didn’t have you to help me decompress and take care of me after cases then I’d just probably get caught up in reading trying to forget about the case we just worked on until a new one comes up. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Spencer wasn’t one to openly talk about his feelings and whenever he did, this time being one the instances, it always made your heart swell with what he said. You didn’t think much of the things you’d do for him after he got home from work because to you it was just natural, but hearing Spencer say how much it means to him had your eyes tear up.

You kissed Spencer’s forehead and let your lips there for a moment as you took it all in, the way Spencer’s arms were wrapped around you and how you felt his heart beat against your chest, nothing felt more peaceful than being with someone you loved.

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[cambion-companion]

can you do a pregnant!wife with aemond talking to her belly in valyrian (she doesn’t understand it, only some thing he has taught her) maybe to calm the baby ‘cause they’ve been kicking all day or something? you write so good btw!!! love to see you writting for aemond so soft ☺️🤍

Oh my gosh thank you guys so much!

I live for sweet father-to-be Aemond moments, especially after that last artwork I posted of him with his baby I'll never get over that.

And yes I paraphrased that line from Alys

Aemond x pregnant!reader | fluff | High Valyrian | peek into domestic life with dad Aemond

You smoothed your hands over your skirts, feeling the growing bump of your belly beneath your fingers. It was time to tell your husband.

"Aemond, are you in here?" Your feet had found their way by habit to the library, where Aemond often decompressed after a sword-training session.

"Is something the matter?" Aemond had already risen from his seat at one of the dusty tables, several scrolls of parchment spilling to the ground as he moved to take your hands in his own. "Why have you sought me out at such a late hour?"

You took a moment to bask selfishly in the light of his concerned violet eye, his prominent brow furrowing, those plush lips of his pressing downward as he scanned your features.

"I have something I wish to tell you." Hiding the way your lips twitched with a duck of your head, you sidestepped your husband and sat on a rickety wooden stool.

Aemond followed your movements with a turn of his head, the rest of his body remaining still. "What has happened? Your face looks pale. Is there someone who has wronged you, my wife? I will exact swift vengeance if need be."

You laughed softly, raising your hands out to him. "Nothing so drastic, my dragon." You hesitated a moment, waiting for Aemond to uproot himself from where he stood and take your hands again. "I am with child."

"Where?"

You tilted your head, a bemused huff escaping your parted lips. "Excuse me?"

"Where is the child?" Aemond looked searchingly around the darkened room.

You brought the palm of his hand to rest against your abdomen. "For a man of such intelligence you can be downright daft at times. It grows inside me, Aemond. I can feel its fires licking my womb."

Aemond's eye swiveled to your face where he held your gaze a long, breathless moment.

"You..." He seemed to be grasping for words that would not come as he sank slowly to his knees before you.

You nodded, tears pricking your vision, parting your knees, allowing Aemond to lean into you, pressing his ear against your swollen belly.

"Rūs zaldrīzes...īlvon." He murmured as you ran your fingers through his silken hair.

"Yes." You agreed, looking down at where he lay against your body. "Ours."

Aemond turned his head, kissing the fabric of your dress that draped over where your baby grew. "Ao issi nykeā zaldrīzes." He spoke reverently, his hands coming to cup your pregnancy bump. "Bōsa emagon īlon jeldan ao."

You listened to him speak in his mother tongue, enjoying yet not quite understanding. When Aemond looked up at you, his hands still placed reverently on your body, the look on his handsome face took your breath away.

"You will be a wonderful father, Aemond."

An unreadable expression flickered across his face. He rose to kiss your lips, pressing his chest flush against yours, feeling the curves of your body through his clothes.

The embrace quickly became heated, fingers tangled in hair as tongues and teeth nipped at delicate skin. You were glad the hour was late, and the library had long since been emptied of all other persons. Aemond had never been a patient man, and he would hear nothing of waiting to return to your bedchambers.

(Aemond Valyrian lines translated: "A hatchling. Ours." "You are a dragon. Long have we wanted you.")