#didn’t mean to write so much. guess I’m more frustrated than I thought

[d1zzypaw]

my current sleep schedule is just like. Oh boy 5pm? Time to fall asleep until midnight or so! yee hawwww

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[mango-bango-bby]

Hello! I have a platonic yandere Miguel request!

So platonic yandere Miguel with reader who’s been on a strawberry kick lately. Like they will just make strawberry things(ie cakes cupcakes smoothies milkshakes extra.) and will just eat them as a snack. Reader has gotten used to being kidnapped by him and just makes food for themselves like that. He notices and is like: is this healthy? And asks Lyla if it is and stuff.

I’ve been on a strawberry kick for the past few weeks so yeah. Thank you so much! Have a good day/night/morning/evening!

♡ Strawberry ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, dad!Miguel, teen!reader, mentions of possible kidnapping, Lyla messing with Miguel, I didn’t proofread this 💪

Summary: Your father is concerned for your health because you seemingly only eat strawberries (Platonic!Yan!Miguel O’Hara x GN!teen!reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You only ate strawberries. Every single day, all day. You had strawberries in your oatmeal for breakfast. You would have a salad with strawberries in it for lunch. You’d have strawberries with your dinner. And then you’d end the day with strawberry ice cream. It was almost all you ate and of course Miguel took notice of this.

He didn’t mind but the amount of strawberries you ate per day could not be healthy. Even if you wanted a snack, it would always be strawberries. He wants you to be healthy. And yet you’re so sarcastic with him, yet you’re teenager so he guesses that’s what happens.

“Is that even healthy?” he asked one day, watching your eyes focused on the TV in front of you. You hummed, taking a bite out of one of the strawberries you were eating as a snack.

“Hmm, strawberries are fruit. Fruit are healthy. Maybe you should try it sometime” you say, sitting in the couch, not taking your eyes off of the TV. You even had a bowl of strawberries in your lap, snacking on them. It’s like you’re being frustrating on purpose sometimes.

He let it go but he still couldn’t help but be worried for you. He wants you to be healthy, he looks after you. He is your father, even if you refuse to call him that. He’s supposed to protect you. And that also means he’s supposed to make sure you’re healthy and safe.

Miguel stands in HQ, looking over his monitors. But he can’t focus. “Lyla?” He asks, her immediately appearing in a flash of peach and pink. “What?” She asks, she can see he’s frustrated. But he’s always frustrated so it didn’t bother her much.

“Are strawberries healthy in a large amount? What the limit per day to still be healthy?” He asks, immediately hearing her start teasing him. The hologram can’t help but snicker. “Why? You eating to many?” She laughs out loud but Miguel only huffs at her. “It’s not me, now answer my question” He scowls, seeing her adjust her heart sunglasses as she realized

“Oh-” She mumbles in realization, immediately smirking at him. “It’s that kid you stole, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?” She smirks, squinting at his reaction. She chucked at him once again “You worried about them?” She coos, pouting to tease him,

Miguel rolls his eyes at her. “I didn’t steal them, I saved them. Answer my question” He practically growls, she sighs dramatically as she finally caves. She pulls up a small hologram monitor, looking over it as she reads.

“They should be fine. It should be healthy. It’s recommended only eight strawberries a day though” She says, her eyes focused as she reads the screen. Miguel murmurs something, nodding his head.

Well, you’re definitely eating more than eight. He’s going to have to cut down how many you’re allowed. Although you’re definitely not going to be happy about that. But he’s your father and it’s his job to keep you safe and happy.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: I wrote more Miguel for you all, I’m on a Miguel kick, like I can’t stop writing him!! So I hope you guys like Miguel O’Hara because I’m writing a lot of him run 😭😭 I thought this idea was so cute, plus I liked writing Lyla, she’s so fun to write. I definitely think her and reader would be friends 🫶)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

[naviavu]

Okay we all know this trope with Ayato and daughter of some Inazuman clan, but hear me out... Ayato and nymph from Chinju forest. He found you when he was coming from beetle fight with Itto, you were laying unconscious in this pretty, translucent dress. Of course, as a gentleman, he takes you to his manor, where you are treated properly. You can't remember who you are or what were you doing, but it's alright, he says, he will take care of you from now on 👀

WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES BACK AROUND 

PAIRINGS: yandere!ayato x nymph!reader

TAGS: noncon, abuse of power, somnophilia, implied fem!chubby!reader, manipulation, creampie, breeding, shy and insecure reader, kinda lore-y?, ayato is lovesick, gaslighting, ayato is a mastermind and now you’re his

WORDS: 5.6k // crossposted on ao3 // my masterlist

NOTES: after a whole ass year, guess who’s BACK. anon, thank you so much for giving me this wonderful idea and i hope you’re still around (no mentions of itto tho, sorry ☹) as usual, college got in the way but at least i’m getting an internship this year (yay! finally getting paid lol). oddly enough, this fic was the easiest and least stressful to write despite me procrastinating it the most. i hope you enjoy a darker twist in ayato’s characterization! may you have a blessed year, readers <3

The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."

He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner.” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver from his gaze. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”

His scent lingers even after he leaves.

Bathing in Chinju Forest alone at night wasn't the most excellent idea.

You curse as you look around, surrounded by clear waters and tall trees. The night flowers glow a faint blue, enough for you to see a path towards the nearby Torri gate. On the side, your sister’s potion cabin is empty. From here, you can still smell a whiff of whatever Danalise was brewing hours ago before she left.

After receiving news that there are members of the Shuumatsuban waiting for them by the nymph’s dwellings, your sisters have long left before sunset, leaving you alone to bask in the peaceful forest. By this time, they must be discussing affairs with your eldest sister, Danalise, the nymph’s village chief.

As the outcast, your presence isn’t needed. It's not like your sisters ever trusted you to handle political matters or tried to include you in civic discussions, anyway. It was enough for them that you stay out of their way and let smarter and more capable people take the reins. You weren’t talented as Adasia; that birds hum along when you sing. Or Phia, whose paintings and sculptures rival those in real life. Or as smart as your favorite sister Danalise, who’s made countless nymph medicines and healed dozens of the remaining few.

But you didn’t have to be this careless.

You relax when you see your nightgown still perched by the river’s rocks. There have been multiple accounts of perverts-- ordinary men, samurais, and nobility alike-- stealing your sisters’ garments while they bathe, putting you in unease. This wasn’t your first time bathing alone, but it was your first time accidentally staying until night.

Touching the amethyst pendant of your necklace, you silently thank the Archon that no one has attempted to do such a thing. You slip your clothes on.

Well… it’s further proof that even your beauty paled compared to your sisters.

You shake your head. You chose to be alone in the first place to erase negative thoughts that have been brewing for the past week, and it frustrates you how easily it returns.

No more than five steps into the forest, a small vial silently rolls.

It was too late when you hear the glass crack beneath your hard slippers.

You retch. Losing control of your body, you double over and cough violently.

Your body falls on a nearby tree. "Someone– please– help!" You're scared and confused and alone, senses overwhelmed by the foul scent.

Your head spins. The world turns dark, and the last thing you see is pale blue hair and purple eyes.

"--ord, she's awake!" A voice calls out, and your head pounds.

Everything feels too soft.

Where were your sisters?

Footsteps arrive near you. "Good. Ayaka worries too much, and she wasn't even the one who found this cute nymph passed out on the forest floor."

Ayaka? Lady Kamisato Ayaka?

You open your eyes and see Kamisato Ayato.

On his side is Thoma. Even though you’re not close, his familiar face brings you comfort. You’ve seen him talking with your sisters every once in a while.

You sigh in relief, before tensing up again. You were inside the residence of the Yashiro Commissioner himself!

The man beside you raises his gloved hand to touch your forehead. "How are you feeling– oh!"

You squeak and block him away. "Sorry, sorry! Sorry, Lord… Sir… Ayato." You turn red. So much for good impressions. What if your sisters find out that you embarrassed yourself in front of him?  "I'm really confused. Where am I?" You cringe internally. In the Kamisato Estate, of course!

He pays no mind, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. He dismisses Thoma.

"In the Kamisato Estate, inside one of our guest rooms. You were out for a whole day," The shoji on the side of the room is open, letting in pleasant sunlight that warmed your skin. Inside your kimono is your nightgown from yesterday. Your necklace is still intact.

"I found you unconscious by the river when I was passing by Chinju Forest,” His brows furrow with concern, and you flush. You’ve heard rumors of his cold beauty, but nothing compares to seeing him up close. "I had to take you here to be treated immediately. Worry not, I already sent men to inform your sisters of your situation."

You bow, now feeling the ache of your sore body. "Thank you so much, my lord."

He shakes his head. "You need to be careful next time. Nymph or not, bathing alone in public places is dangerous."

It doesn’t help that the nymph's reputation has weakened over the past decades. We’re no longer the powerful creatures that we used to be. Your eyes remain on the pristine white sheets. “But I don’t blame you. The potion used on you was quite…”

"The potion?”

“The thing that knocked you out, (Y/N). Do you not remember?” Lord Kamisato reaches into his suit pocket and brings out what looks like a small perfume bottle, no bigger than three inches, decorated with intricate hearts on the front. "The bottle design suggests that whoever created this is from a foreign land. Sumerian, even. But I cannot be sure unless we get a hand on another sample of the liquid itself."

Your eyes widen. “You plan to catch whoever caused my… unconsciousness, my Lord?”

“Not just plan. I will catch them, (Y/N). I cannot let this happen again, and the fact that it did shows that I lacked vigilance in protecting my people.” You think it was too much effort for one simple case, but you suppress the urge to refute him and dare not interrupt. You can only be grateful for his initiative.

He puts the small bottle back in his pocket. “With that being said, I require you to stay in the Estate for a week to ensure your recovery and monitor you should there be any long-term effects.”

You freeze and the man gives you an apologetic smile. “It’s protocol, and for the best interests of all people in the community. I hope you understand, (Y/N).”

“O-Of course, my lord! I’m thankful for all of your efforts, and I’ll help your investigation as much as possible.” He smiles genuinely this time at your eagerness.

The warmth swirling in his eyes is definitely from his mother, you muse. "Thank you for not letting the history between us stop you, Sir Ayato. I know things had been rocky between nymphs and your clan ever since…" your parents passed away, but the words died on your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up."

He chuckles, surprising you. "I’m just doing my job as the Yashiro Commissioner, (Y/N).” He scans over your body one last time. You shiver. “I look forward to seeing you in a healthier state.”

His scent lingers even after he leaves.

Nobody arrived to pick you up one week later.

It is common knowledge to Inazumans that the nymphs from Chinju Forest have been under the Kamisatos protection since the dawn of time, as their ancestors helped each other to grow and survive through different eras. The nymphs gather resources from the forest that helped the Kamisatos grow in their administrative standing, and in exchange, the nymphs and their village are protected from invaders and political monopoly while letting them live a peaceful life. When the time came that the Kamisatos became one of the most powerful clans in the country, they never stopped supporting the nymph’s village.

It was inevitable that one of your sisters fell in love with a clan member. Whoever she was, she had long passed or had gone missing—and even your sisters who have lived longer than you refuse to talk about her.

Rumors say that the Kamisato patriarch was poisoned because a nymph had wanted his love, but he only loved his wife. And so follows the tragedy of losing both Kamisato heads that forced their children, Ayato and Ayaka, to take over their responsibilities and grow up too fast.

Hence your sisters’ fear of the Kamisatos. They have been nothing but kind during diplomatic talks, but you can’t blame them for being wary: the case was never solved, after all. When Danalise interrogated every sister to tears (including you, at such a young age) the night that the Kamisato patriarch’s death had spread around Inazuma, no one admitted anything.

As a safety net, everyone kept their distance: weekly meetings in the nymph’s village became monthly, your sisters avoided collecting food near the Estate, and the staff weren’t as friendly to them anymore.

No one from the Kamisato Estate questioned this change. The seed of distrust had already taken its root.

However, living with them proved you wrong.

Upon Lord Ayato’s absence because of the investigation, Lady Ayaka and Thoma frequently checked up on you. You couldn’t refuse when they first invited you to dinner since Thoma told you that Ayaka was often lonely, and it was rare for her to hang out and let loose with someone else. The staff had been accommodating during your stay, even going far to prevent you from doing simple chores.

You felt like a freeloader. When you insisted that you needed physical activity to speed up your recovery, the servants shook their heads politely. ‘The Commissioner’s order,’ they said.

When Ayato finally arrived home, you greeted him with utmost respect. He laughed and patted your head. “No need for the formalities, my dear. Or else I shall feel bashful that a beauty like you insist on calling me ‘sir’ or ‘my lord’.”

You can still hear his pleasant laughter in the hallways after you bolt to your room. Your scream is muffled on your pillow.

Curse your stupid crush on him.

An hour later, one of the servants knocked. “Lady (Y/N), Lord Ayato has called for you in his quarters.”

Against your will, you find yourself in front of his door. You knock twice. “Sir Ayato?”

Ayato opens the door, still wearing his travel clothes. “Come inside, (Y/N).”

As easy as breathing, you immediately recognize the woman behind him. “Dana!”

You waste no time and tackle her in a hug.

Your sister sighs and pries your arms away. "How have you been doing? Not being a burden to the Commissioner, I hope?" She’s clad in her formal garments, but something weighs down her usually confident stance.

The indifference in her eyes and cold words hurt you. You take a step back and wrap your arms around yourself.

You expected Dana to miss you as much as you did, since she was the only one who paid attention to you and cared for your well-being.

Nevertheless, her presence brought a smile to your face. It felt like home was near.

You shake your head. "No! I’ve been trying to help around the house, I promise!”

Silence encompasses the three of you. Outside, the busy staff continue working around the estate. Some are tasked to prepare a child’s room.

You bounce on your feet, oblivious to the tense atmosphere. “Sister, are we going to go home?”

"(Y/N)..." Ayato clears his throat. You look at him expectantly. "Upon consulting multiple Inazuman scholars, the potion you inhaled was reported to be a… potency potion for nymphs,” He stops, gauging your reaction.

Only the rapid beating of your heart betrays your calm façade. “What… what do you mean by that, my lord?” You ask, voice steady. You don’t want to know. You’ve had enough of potions and investigation. You just want to go home.

He briefly glances at Dana, silently asking for permission to proceed. Your sister, ever so helpful, refuses to look at both of you. Her glossy black hair covers her face as she looks down.

(Unbeknownst to you, she was seething with anger. Your sister cannot find the courage to look at you.)

Her unusual behavior puts you more on edge, like seconds before tittering off a cliff. “L-Lord Ayato,” Your voice breaks. “Please continue what you were saying.”

He takes a deep breath. “The strange potion puts you to sleep and makes your body more reactive to… stimulation. It’s highly likely that you’ve fallen victim to a person’s sinful desires.”

The whole world stops, and the room expands.

Like that night in the forest, you feel scared, confused, and alone.

You whisper. “I don’t understand.” But you do.

“It’s an aphrodisiac laced with a sleeping drug!” Dana yells, voice shrill. You visibly recoil, feeling her anger come off in waves. “It means that some scum has been planning to violate you.”

“What? I don’t…” The soreness between your thighs. Faint bruises on your wrists. A fading hickey on your neck near the back of it, one that you just noticed last night. Dana does nothing to comfort you, only glaring daggers at your shaking form. Tears well up in your eyes.

Your sister prances around the room, her heavy steps pounding your head. “I told you to go home before sundown! Why didn’t you listen to me?"

“Now, it’s highly improper to blame her,” Ayato interjects. Dana glares at him and clenches her fist.

He moves in front of you and grasps your hands.  "I don’t want to delay the investigation further. We decided you can't return to our village until we catch who did this. The situation has worsened now that we know the culprit’s intentions."

"But how long would that take!" You shout.

(You miss the split second of anger in his eyes.)

You plead. "I just want to go home, Dana, please. I didn’t mean for all of this to happen."

"You might endanger your sisters, (Y/N)! We are not leading a criminal inside our home just because of your selfishness," Her words felt like death sentence. The last time you saw your sister with a hopeless look in her eyes was after she failed to catch the culprit of the Kamisato patriarch’s death.

Your soft sobs pierce the silence. "I’ll… come back for you when the time comes."

(Ayato’s hand delicately trails on the back of your neck to soothe you.)

Dana’s eyes widen, and she looks away. You don’t hear her whisper, ‘this is for the greater good.’

You’re inconsolable when the door slams and she leaves. Ayato wraps you in his arms. You don’t care if your tears soak his perfectly-ironed coat.

You spend the rest of the day in his quarters, sitting beside him while he does paperwork. He gives you a glance every once in a while, a hand rubbing circles on your back when he notices you trying to stifle your cries. Your face glows a faint red, not because of your sadness but because of his intimate actions.

He’s too close. It’s all inappropriate. You tell yourself that Lord Kamisato is just being kind.

But he’s there when you needed comfort and safety the most.

That night, you fiddle with your necklace. You vaguely remember your sisters giving this to you on your birthday.

Betrayal burns through you. You want to break it from your neck.

(You don’t.

Instead of your past, the amethyst pendant starts to remind you of the Commissioner’s eyes.)

You lose track of time. A week with no news from Dana or any of your sisters felt like agonizing years.

You’ve become restless. Every day, you ask where Ayato is.

“He’s working hard to investigate your case, Lady (Y/N).” The staff says. Their eyes that once filled with joy upon seeing you are now laced with concern and pity. “We do not know when he’ll be back.”

Being the black sheep of the nymph village is something that you accepted long ago. Still, you thought that Danalise would still fight to take you back because you trusted her as your eldest sister and your leader.

You hate that she abandoned you. You also hate that you still longed for your sisters’ presence more than anything else.

Your footsteps patter on the freshly-cleaned wooden floor. "Sir Junichi, do you know where my necklace is? It’s been missing since last night."

“Good morning, (Y/N)." The old man sneezes. On his hand is a wedding dress, elegant but dusty. The colors are vibrant and the fabric has no frays despite the old and traditional style.

You remember one of the portraits hung by the dining room where the Kamisato siblings' mother wear the exact same dress. Why is he holding that?

"I’m not sure, but I think I saw one in Lord Kamisato's office."

A faint blush appears on your cheeks when you remember the day you spent with him. "Thank you."

There was no one inside Ayato’s room, despite him being home. On the table, the rare sight of his organized documents greeted you. Several letters and a freshly inked fountain pen rest by the windows. Souvenirs from Lady Ayaka are displayed on the shelves, all with no dust. A picture of him, Thoma, Taromaru, and Lady Ayaka together in a festival is delicately pinned on the corner of the makeshift bulletin board. The sight warms your heart.

Carefully looking around, your necklace glints whilst hung on the high cabinets. You tiptoe and pull. It barely budges. You reach out and swiftly grab the necklace that the cabinet doors open.

Dozens of empty bottles roll out and you shield yourself from the fall.

A familiar rotten smell invades your scent. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

You jump on your feet and run before colliding with a body. "(Y/N)? What are you doing here–"

"Thoma!" You shout as your voice shakes in fear. "He's lying! He violated me!"

"What– who violated you? Please, breathe and calm down."

"Ayato-- Lord Kamisato–" You gasp out, realizing that Thoma is Ayato’s closest friend. "There was no one else in that forest, just him, I saw him– and he said I was violated before he arrived, and that doesn't make sense because he was there before I blacked out! Thoma, please, I know I sound crazy, you have to believe me," You tremble.

In the midst of your frantic words, Thoma appears confused. "You're saying that… it was Lord Ayato who had violated you?" He whispers carefully, hesitant with his words. You nod urgently.

Your thoughts were racing, but you knew one thing: you must get out of this place now. Thoma have always been kind, patient, and understanding, so he will believe you–

"--don't think Thoma believes a word, don't you? Leave us, Thoma."

The housekeeper pulls away from your embrace, curtsied 'm'lord' before exiting and shutting the kanban behind him.

You freeze. You should have known where his loyalties lie.

Behind you, you hear Ayato pick up one bottle. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, (Y/N)."

You grit your teeth. “Find out what.”

“Playing dumb now that I’ve arrived?” He laughs. It sounded melodious when you first heard it; now it twisted your guts. “Not the smartest move, (Y/N).”

“I want to hear you say it. Answer me, Ayato!"

You whimper as your chin is roughly grabbed from behind, forcing you to face him. “I get that you’re upset, but I don’t appreciate the disrespect, princess. Now, let’s start.” He clasps his hand around your arm firmly. “Took you roughly two weeks to find out. Guess there's no denying that now, huh?"  

"Please spare me your explanations, Lord Kamisato," You cried out, hurt and betrayal in your eyes. "I'll make sure that everyone in this Estate knows how much of a degenerate you are–let go of me!"

“The Estate," He whispers, voice a low rumble in your ear. "Is mine. Thoma continued his duties per usual after walking out. Ayaka is happy I finally found a fitting partner to continue our bloodline. My servants always kept an eye on you whenever I was gone. I watched your every move, darling."

"Your pathetic attempts to escape will be halted, and you'll end up in your room again. Worse, on mine," You pulled around and trashed, screaming and shouting and fighting before a bottle was opened, and you inhaled that scent again. "Breathe, my love.”

When you wake, your body was already in the throes of passion.

"Feeling good, love?" Ayato sighs, lost in the pleasure. He thrusts slowly inside you. "Look at us, spending the night in each other's arms like that day in the forest."

He leers at your panicked form, seeing your eyes go wide. He’s naked, and in the corner of your eye, you see his clothes discarded haphazardly in a pile mixed with yours. "Nymphs are easily swayed, aren't they? It only took a few threats to convince them to give you to me. They didn't even want money. They immediately agreed to leave you defenseless so I could finally make a move after all these years.”

You freeze and shut your eyes in response. He tuts and squeezes your neck, so you open your eyes again in fear. "Listen closely, (Y/N). You want to know the truth, right?”

“See your sister’s little cabin right there?” You squeal as Ayato grips your waist and sets you on his lap as if you weigh nothing. “That’s where she does her little experiments, no? Did she tell you what she was brewing that day they left you on the river?” You whimper in response, dreading whatever he will say next. You don’t want to believe it.

Ayato laughs, his hot breath ghosting your neck. You shiver in response. “That’s right. The aphrodisiac I’ve been pretending to ‘investigate’. I guess I still have to thank her.”

He embraces you closer, a hand snaking to cup your tits. You try to slap his hand away, but he grasps your wrists with his other hand. "Ah ah. You need to behave if you want me to tell you the whole story.”

“I have no use for your stupid stories,” You spat.

“Really now? Don’t you want to know what happened to your sister who wanted to seduce my father?”

You have no answer. All your life, you’ve always wondered if someone out there knew the truth.

He speaks before you say your answer. “Little one… no one poisoned my father.”

You stop. “What?”

Ayato hums. “It was an accident; he explored the woods one night and accidentally ventured too deep until he was lost, tired, and hungry. Fortunately, he saw a cabin. Your sister’s cabin. Unfortunately, your sister stupidly stored her toxic potions near the entrance door. With no light, he accidentally knocked down one strong enough to kill him. One small bottle was enough to take his life," He whispers. "It’s been ten years since then. Nobody knew but me… until I decided it was time for your clan to face the repercussions."

“That hag Danalise begged; you know. She asked that I spare the rest of you from punishment and take her instead. But I wanted nothing to do with that stupid wench.” He suddenly bites down your neck, and you yelp. He then caresses the hickey with his tongue to soothe the area. “But you, my dear (Y/N)…” He growls. “I wanted everything to do with you.”

You don’t want to believe it. Under the night sky, wetness dripped from your pussy to his thighs, reminding you that his thickness had been inside you twice without you knowing. This bewitching, powerful man is utterly, completely obsessed with you.

"So I became the sacrificial lamb?" You hiccupped. “Jokes on you, I’m the worst one. Any of my sisters could’ve been a better pick.” You press on. There’s nothing to lose anymore. Everyone you knew betrayed you.

"There’s that sad look on your face again." He gently takes your chin to face him. A look of adoration crosses his eyes and you look away, feeling vulnerable. “I picked you, (Y/N). Not any of them. You.”

"After my father's death, I was angry. I loathed your family. I instructed my people to watch out for you nymphs, especially those who dare go near our territory," He whispers, and you reel back. "Imagine my surprise when my people told me there was one naive enough to bathe alone in the forest. I had to go and see you for myself. Then I saw you… your body, naked as the night… your curves glistening in the moonlight."

“My decision was made from then on.” You don’t resist when his hand drops down to your pussy and starts to rub your folds. Your aching core is overstimulated and sensitive at the same time. “An eye for an eye. You shall be my wife, and I will do anything I can to ensure you’ll be mine.”

His hand stroking you, rubbing you in places that no one ever had, has your mind reeling from pleasure. In your calmer state, you’ve become less resistant to his touches, and your body starts to ache for more. Your face flushes at the sound of the slick between your thighs.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

He grinds his palm to your aching clit, and you moan. “Ah—my lord!”

Ayato smirks and lets out a small laugh. “That’s a good girl. Feels good, doesn’t it?” He whispers, nibbling the shell of your ear. “I told you I won’t hurt you, sweetheart. Here, lie on the grass," He carefully puts you down on the cool land and spreads your legs.

You fluster at his ravenous gaze, staring intently at your dripping pussy. Laying bare in front of a man for the first time—your captor, no less—awakens something primal inside you. “Gods, look at you. Your pussy is pretty just like the rest of you. Couldn’t stop thinking about this every day for the past month since I first laid my eyes on it.”

Ayato presses his face flush against the inside of your thighs, face dangerously close to your core. You mewl– both in pleasure and shame of him seeing your intimate part up close. "Am I the first man to taste you, my love?"

When you refuse to look at him to answer, he chuckles lightheartedly, underneath, full of lust. "I would've known if you had lain with another, sweetheart. Anyone who attempted would’ve been executed and disappeared." You feel his arm tighten the grip around your waist, possessive and dominating. "Nymphs are famous for their sweet ambrosia, am I right?"

Ayato dived in and licked a strip of your core.

Your hands tighten on his pale blue tresses, unconsciously pulling him closer. "My lord, please stop! I don't want this– oh!"

"You taste exquisite, my darling," He growls. The man feels his chest emitting a growl, beastly and unlike anything he's felt before. "I could eat you up all night and never get tired. You’re the best meal I've ever had."

And he does, slurping and licking for what seems like forever while you moan and keel to his tongue. You're lost in the pleasure, unintendedly singing such beautiful high-pitched noises that sent arousal to his groin. His cock is painfully hard, and he wants to break you. He grips your thighs stronger and circles his tongue on your clit.

You feel a tightening coil inside your stomach. You pant. "My lord, please, I don't know what's happening,"

"Let go. Come," He says, and everything around you explodes in white-hot pleasure.

You were too dazed and disoriented to realize that you passed out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you woke up to Ayato pressing soft kisses on your shoulders. "Stay awake, my love. We're not yet done."

Too exhausted to protest, your whole body relaxes. Ayato sighs and kisses your hair, fingers trailing down your strands.

He's proud of the mess he made you.

He cups your breasts and you gasp, body succumbing to his touch. You think it's dangerous that you slowly become familiar and yearn for his touch, but it's not so bad either.

With every touch, you feel appreciated and worthy of attention.

Above all, you feel loved.

You look at him again, naked and skin glistening in the moonlight. His pale blue hair is loose, draping around his shoulder like shiny ribbons.

He's as handsome as the day you first saw him in the Estate.

"Oh?" Ayato teases. "You're the beautiful one here, sweetheart. I am merely your worshipper tonight."

He positions your thighs, opening them once again. You whine when he strokes your tender folds. Between your legs and his is his cock, huge and throbbing with dripping beads of precum. He takes your hand and lets you grip it gently. "You feel that, baby? This is only for you."

It twitches on your hand. You tug it, and he moans.

"It’s—it’s big," He kisses your burning cheeks. "Darling, don’t worry. I would never hurt you. Come, put your arms around me," He places your languid arms around him. Your hold on him is tense. "It's okay, baby. You can scratch me if it's painful; I won't get mad." Your lips melt into his again; your breaths become fogs mingling. "Ready?"

He puts the tip in, and you feel stinging the stretch of his cock that you arch your back and shudder. Your nails leave marks on his back. Ayato hisses. "Archons, you're so tight… Princess, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes," You mutter. "I think so. A-ah… you're so big, my lord."

Pride swells in his chest. "You made it that way. Tell me when you've adjusted, okay? I'm not going to move unless you tell me to," His eyes brimmed with fondness and affection that it made your heart skip a beat. A glimpse of what Ayato truly felt for you; aside from his sick obsession, he was a man who truly adored you and is willing to serve all your desires. "Stay still, doll. Don't worry about me. Try to relax."

After a few moments of shifting, you’ve become accustomed to his size. He fits perfectly. "I-I'm okay. Please… take me."

Ayato goes in deep, fully sheaths himself inside you, and he feels as if everything he’s ever experienced was made for this moment. "Gods, thank you so much for allowing me to do this, sweet girl. I love you so much. Always have."

And so he lost himself between you, the stars, and the mysteries of Chinju forest. He thinks about when he first saw you and swore to himself that you would be by his side and how this was finally the culmination of his dream. He thrusts wild as if memorizing the spots with the most of your pleasure and ram himself like a man driven mad by passion and lust.

"Ah, I should take you back to the Estate after this, no?" Ayato grunts when he feels you tighten around his length. Your spongy walls feel like paradise. "Make you my wife. It won't be easy, but I could clear your name, and your sisters will live peacefully," He reaches out to toy with your breasts, letting them mold on his hand. "I'll give you the best life I have to offer, (Y/N). You'll be mine, and I'll be yours. Just say yes."

He continues, murmuring ramblings that you don't even understand because of the rapture you're in. You feel the coil building up again, and Ayato does too, as he fucks into you faster and almost losing his grip. "Please, let's cum together. Be with me, sweetheart."

Both of you slowly lose yourselves and– "Ah!"

The two of you explode in pleasure, and only the forest hears your loving cries. Your fine nails break his porcelain skin, leaving a trail of red behind. Ayato holds you closer, molding perfectly into each other as you both chase your highs under the night sky. He kisses you again, and you return his efforts this time, finding that his lips are far softer and less suffocating when he’s gentle. You think feel a stray tear from his eyes escape. “Lord Ayato… please take me home.”

"Ah, I love you so much," He whispers. He looks at your afterglow, all dopey and tranquil. He thinks about the necklace you left in the Estate. He’ll give you much, much more. "I'll make a future with you."

[rebouks]

Brodie Sampson was a foreboding man, but he somewhat reminded Robin of his father; tough and weathered on the outside, with a soft, gooey centre reserved for those who knew him closely. His voice was gruff when he finally decided to speak.

“I thought I told you not to wander off-.. and who is this?”

Alex rolled her eyes, resenting the way her father constantly scolded her for leaving the watchtower, despite the fact that he left for hours and hours every day.

“I was bored, and this is Robin-.. but he can’t talk.”

Brodie scoffed, “That’s convenient.”

“He’s fun and nice, don’t stress over it-.. please?” Alex asked, or rather, demanded, throwing a dusty notepad and a pencil in front of Robin. He’d promised to write his address down for her so she could write to him, they were going to be pen-pals!

Brodie grumbled, immediately dropping any misgivings, just as Alex had asked. “What do you want from the store?”

“Gummy worms!” Alex shouted.

“You’ll have no teeth left…” Brodie tutted, grabbing his coat.

“They’ll grow back.” Alex shoved a finger in her mouth, prodding the exposed gum where her front teeth used to be.

“Hm-.. you better get yourself gone soon, son. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.” Brodie squinted at Alex as he headed out, as if to warn her against convincing Robin to stay any longer; she stuck her tongue out at him.

Robin nodded as Brodie left, hastily scrawling down the rest of his address. He wondered if he ought to write anything else, an apology perhaps? He felt bad that he hadn’t managed to speak to Alex yet, but he was going home soon, so the opportunity had already passed. Maybe he didn’t have anything interesting to say, anyway.

“He’s nice really, he’s just-.. moody, or whatever.”

Robin forced a smile as she continued.

“It’s so not fair, having to stay cooped up in here all day-.. what does he expect?”

Robin supposed he expected his daughter to listen to him, though he also supposed it wasn’t fair that she had to stay here alone every day either. Did she go to school? Were they on some kind of permanent vacation? He’d have to remember to ask her when they wrote to one another, they’d have more chance of getting to know each other that way-.. especially since he still seemed unable to talk like a normal human being.

Alex hovered at the top of the staircase, blocking Robin’s path.

“I don’t want you to go-.. home, I mean.” She clarified.

For some reason, Robin found it hard to read Alex, but he could sense enough to know that she was lonely. She seemed much more present than anyone else he knew; often avoiding thinking about the past or the future, or ruminating on her thoughts for too long, instead acting on contagious, frivolous impulsiveness.

He couldn’t decide whether it was refreshing or frustrating. He’d gotten used to knowing what went on in people’s minds, and whether he liked it or not, Alex was an enigma. Robin would’ve done anything to avoid going home-.. and back to school, but since he couldn’t say so out loud, he did the next best thing.

“Ough!” Alex squeaked with surprise as Robin yanked her off her feet, wrapping his arms around her in a vice like bear hug.

Since he was so awkward with his words-.. or lack thereof, she’d wrongly assumed he’d be weirded out by physical affection too. Giggling slightly, she decided it was quite nice to be wrong. Her father wasn’t exactly a hugger, and it wasn’t as though she had anyone else she could randomly accost with her need for affection, people would think she was odd or clingy.

“I guess you don’t want to go either?” She asked, almost rhetorically.

Robin shook his head vigorously, tilting backwards precariously until Alex squealed again.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.. I promise I’ll write!”

Previous // Next

[artemish]

Sous chef: part 2 | opla!Sanji x fem!Reader

word count: 3.8k

genre/tags: Sanji x reader; first-person pov; fluff; pining (but is it mutual??); angst; hurt/comfort; friends to lovers

warnings: brief anxiety mention

summary: following their late night kitchen heart to heart, things become more complicated when the other Strawhats take notice…

a/n: thankful for the support for the last part! ♥️

Continuing my low key self indulgent series hehe.. 🤭 It took me longer than I wanted to write this next part but I was determined and here we are lol 😅

taglist 💕 @vespidphoenix @dark-academia-slut

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰!

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

“Nami, we are just friends.”

I stated this as matter-of-factly as I could.

“Right, and Zoro likes tea with his lunch instead of beer. Cut the shit, y/n.”

Our sweet navigator hadn’t budged from the spot she was judging me from.

Her eyes were determined to pierce through my shield, but I held fast. I flapped my arms up, exasperated by the fact that she kept pushing.

“Look, I couldn’t sleep so I came to the kitchen, I fell really hard and Sanji helped me feel better, that’s all.”

She smirked, “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“No,” I scoffed in disgust, “not like that. He was also awake, taking note of our supplies, before I came in, got knocked by the swell, and he patched me up. Then we were talking for some time, and I guess we were both more tired than I thought. Just fell asleep, right then and there.”

“Look,” she said, standing up, placing her hands on her hips, “as much as I love him, I would love him even more if I didn’t have him flirting my way. So if he’s into you now, well that makes me a very happy woman who can finally navigate this boat in peace. That being said, I would still like to know what’s going on between you-“

“There’s nothing going on,” I snapped, “and there never will be.”

I didn’t intend to come off so aggressively and I saw her step back when she heard the anger in my voice.

“Sorry,” I breathed, “didn’t mean to get worked up like that.”

But she took no notice of my apology and pointed at me saying, “Does this have to do with the thing you still won’t tell me about? Is that what’s been holding you back?”

I rubbed my forehead with my hand, “yeah, it is.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms, as her frustration reached its peak.

“You know,” she said, this time with a knowing smirk, “secrets come out. They always do. With time and through fate, they always come out. I mean just look at me. I thought I had it all worked out, thought I could keep my secrets to myself.

“But what Luffy taught me, what this whole crew taught me, is that you shouldn’t have to carry your burdens alone. Secrets are better shared with those who can share the load.”

“I know, Nami,” I sighed, “but I can’t tell you, nor the crew, least of all Sanji. You know how he gets.”

“You know you can trust us, but you still don’t want to tell us? Why?”

“I can’t answer that.”

She looked up at the ceiling, as if asking the gods for help, but of course she got no reply.

“I’m not going to get anywhere with you on this, am I?” she sighed. I shook my head.

She paced about the room as I sat back down on my futon, bringing my knees up to my face. She sat down next to me, letting out a big sigh as she did.

“I’m sorry, Nami, but I promise when the time is right I’ll tell you.”

She glared back at me and looked like she was about to say something, but was cut off from a voice outside our door.

“Nami, have you seen y/n around? I’m trying to- oh. You’re here”

Sanji stood in our doorway, looking a bit flustered but still managing to flash us a wide grin.

“Morning ladies, you’re both looking as lovely as a golden sunrise on a calm sea.”

Nami and I rolled our eyes in unison.

“Morning Sanji, had a good sleep did we?” Nami poked, and I felt my cheeks flush red.

“It was good,” he sighed, “until the chill set in and I realised I was alone in the kitchen.”

“Oh,” she said, “were you with someone last night?”

I could have strangled her right then.

“What, oh no, I was ugh, counting beans and I must’ve dozed off. Didn’t realise I wasn’t in my cabin, you know with the others, yeah.”

“Counting… beans?” I could see her fighting every urge to cackle at his pathetic explanation.

“Ugh, yeah,” he stumbled through his words again, “the beans in the barrel. Coffee beans, green beans, soy beans-“

“Well, you should borrow a blanket or a shawl next time to stay warm, in case you fall asleep again. Y/n has a spare one, you should ask her for it.”

I shoved her shoulder and saw her biting down hard on her lip.

“I might,” he said, looking at me then, “as long as I know she’s keeping warm too.”

I couldn’t take this back and forth any longer, and I couldn’t stand the sight of him in the doorway, looking like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a bone.

“Sanji,” I said finally, “hi, hello, good morning. Why are you here?”

“Oh well, madam, I was actually looking for you.”

“Me? Why were you looking for me?”

“Well, I’m taking you up on that offer, since breakfast is a big one today.”

“Offer? What offer?”

“You being my sous chef, remember?”

Shit, I thought, I’d forgot, I’m screwed!

“Oh of course, yes, just let me ugh change into something more chef-like. Yeah.”

“Alright, my swan, I’ll start prepping while you get ready.”

He flashed us both a grin and walked back to the kitchen, completely missing Nami’s face of pure joy.

It was as if what she had just witnessed between us was better than any treasure she could ever imagine to find in all the four seas and no amount of berry could be used to describe how much she enjoyed that.

Nami stretched out on my futon, exhaling loudly. She rested her head on my lap, and stared wistfully up at the ceiling. I was numb to her and everything around me.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

Ever since we met him at the Baratie, she noticed how he would go that little bit further with me, how his hugs lingered longer, and how his words were kinder.

And she had constantly reminded me of this fact.

“Even if I never get to know all your secrets,” she said quietly, “at least I can hold this one against you. You know, he only cuts your carrots into heart shapes, when he makes us soup.”

“Really?”, I lied, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Can you even cook?” she asked after another silent moment had passed between us.

I looked down at her. She knew what I was going to say.

“No.”

I changed into some black slacks and a t-shirt, and headed over to the kitchen.

The room was alive with the sounds of rashers of bacon sizzling intensely on the pan, the crackling of flames within the stone oven and the soft, rhythmic thumping of metal on wood. Smoke rose from the stove and the oven, hanging in the air and carrying the sweet scent of bread, the earthy aroma of mushrooms, butter and thyme, and salted meat to every corner of the room.

Sanji had his back to me as he sliced through potatoes in halves then quarters and then smaller still, probably for hash browns.

He moved the knife intently, with a ferocity that seemed barely human, and yet the potato pieces did not come out mangled or broken as one would expect from such intensity, but instead in perfect little cubes, each evenly portioned to form the hash shapes. To say I was intimidated was an understatement.

“Doesn’t really look like you need my help here.” I had moved back towards the doorway unconsciously, perhaps hoping I could get out unscathed.

“On the contrary, y/n,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m swamped this morning and your help would be invaluable.”

I couldn’t let him see how deeply underprepared I was, or how concerning it was that I had gotten this far in life without ever making a real meal or that I lacked any and every culinary skill there was. But it was too late now.

“Oh, ugh, are you sure? I mean you look like-“

“Grab that apron over there and come over.” He pointed to an apron hanging near the doorframe, without looking back at me, and continued to make his way slicing through various other vegetables he was adding to the meal. I begrudgingly put it on.

“Can you please crack those eggs over there into that bowl?”

He pointed to a large silver bowl that was on the counter, right of where he was dealing with the vegetables and meats.

“We’re going to make omelettes and everything else will go with them. We have to get as much as we can from this batter since we also have to eat, not just Luffy, so don’t worry about adding an egg or two extra.”

He smiled, and I melted like butter in a pan at the sight of him.

I stood beside him and stared down at the eggs in the carton, and at the other cartons stacked against the wall.

It was then that I felt my palms tingle and swell with moisture, as I tried to move my hand to pick up an egg. In an instant, I felt my throat dry up, and I felt a rising surge of heat from within me flush over my cheeks, and panic pulse through my chest.

Thump, thump, thump, THUMP.

The sound of my own heartbeat flooded my ears and nothing else.

My breath quickened and I became acutely aware of it. I tried to take in air in small, quick breaths. I didn’t even notice that Sanji had stopped cooking and had turned me to face him, holding my shoulders and calling my name.

“Y/n, are you alright? Can you hear me? Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, y/n.”

But I couldn’t hear him. My vision blurred over, as my eyelids flickered sporadically. He stopped calling out to me, perhaps realising that it was no use in this state, but continued to hold me steady, rubbing my arms as he did.

My mouth still gaped wide, trying to take in breath but as he held me, my breathing began to even out.

Gods, I thought, this is what I panic about?

“Sanji,” I felt my mind returning, “Sanji. Oh, my gods, Sanji, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said, “don’t apologise. Are you okay?”

He stepped back, keeping one arm on me still, and reached for a glass of water. I faced the floor, too quickly perhaps. My head felt hollow.

“I should’ve told you upfront,” I began, “that I don’t know how to cook, that I’ve never learnt or tried, or rather had the patience to. I’ve just survived on the cooking of others. I shouldn’t have offered to be your sous chef last night, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Woah, hey, it’s alright, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, oh my gods. The truth is… I’m terrified.”

I could see a slight smirk appear on his face as he listened to me.

“Of me or of cooking?,’ he chuckled, “and please, don’t say me.”

“What if I said both?” I said, sheepishly.

“Well, then I’d say you have nothing to be afraid of and I can teach you how to handle both.”

I felt my breath catch again as butterflies began to flutter and whirl violently around inside me, and I thought about how he could probably use my face to light the pan again with the heat that radiated off my red cheeks.

“Sanji, stop that, I-I really know nothing about cooking. I don’t even know what to do with these eggs.” That seemed to get a genuinely worried reaction out of him, as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“You don’t know how to crack an egg?”

“Oh, I didn’t even know that's what you wanted me to do with them.”

“How else would you make an omelette? How else… would they get in the bowl?”

I was silent. He inhaled deeply as he studied me with those sparkling blue eyes. A moment of realisation seemed to seize him then, as he guided me to the bench and sat me down.

He handed me the glass of water, made a motion with his hand for me to drink, and as I tipped the cooling swell down my throat he said, “I’m sorry if I made you anxious. I didn’t know you couldn’t cook, m’lady.

“Please, if you’re not comfortable, don’t feel like you have to stay here or like I’m forcing you to be here, it’s alright really, but just know that… well I do like your company all the same.”

Before I could speak, he put his hand up to gesture to wait, stepped away quickly to grab the bacon and mushroom mix in the pan off the stove, and put out the flames from the oven before coming back to squat down on his haunches in front of me, holding the bench to keep him steady.

He must’ve noticed how big my eyes looked staring at him.

He reached out his free hand hesitantly but I took it in both my hands, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he wobbled from being surprised by my grip.

“Sorry,” I said, helping him balance, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because, well, I was embarrassed. You’re such an incredible cook and everything you make is so brilliant and delicious, I just couldn’t say no to you last night. But I feel like an idiot now, I should’ve just told you.”

I could’ve sworn I saw his cheeks turn pink as I spoke. I fidgeted nervously with his hand, feeling the coarseness of his fingertips and how soft his palms were in comparison.

“You know,” he began, “if you wanted to learn, all you had to do was ask, madam. But tell me, how’d you survive without cooking anything then?”

“I mostly ate whole foods,” I said, “things like bread, all sorts of bread, fruits, wheels of cheese and dried meats, things I knew would keep or could be eaten quickly. And if I had a pot, anything I could just chuck in with a bit of salt and pepper. Better to survive on that then nothing at all.”

He smiled a soft smile and brought his other hand to where our hands were and pulled me up to stand as he did. I had to look up as he said, “Well today I’m going to teach you how to crack an egg, and maybe make an omelette.”

I sat on a stool to face him, opposite to where he was cooking on the benchtop.

“Now watch carefully,” he said, “you hold the egg like this.”

He took the egg in his right hand, the bowl in his left.

“Crack it against the rim of the bowl, so that the break is clean.” With a deft hand, he tapped it firmly against the bowl, and split the shell with his fingers so the yoke fell out perfectly into the silver crater below. He made it look so easy.

“Now you,” he said, beckoning me to come to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

I stood in front of the bowl and eggs and he stood behind me. Taking my hands, he guided my left to hold the bowl and my right to hold the egg.

“Hold the bowl firm now,” he said and I nodded in reply. “Keep the egg sideways in your hand, so it’ll make a clean break in the shell.”

His mouth was so close to my ear as he leaned in and whispered his instructions, I felt the heat of his breath against my neck.

Goosebumps rose and trickled all across my body as I felt the strength of his hands against mine. Holding the top of my hand, he moved my arm to make the action.I suppose it made sense for a chef to have as firm a grip as he did, but I hadn’t thought about it before. And I also hadn’t thought about how that grip was making me feel.

“And now we just tap it firmly but still with power on that edge.”

As he brought my hand with the egg down to crack against the bowl, I was more aware of how good it felt to be touched by him, and that his face was only inches away from mine, and the goosebumps, and how if I just turned to the right, just a little…

CRACK!

The egg split and I jolted a little, as he guided my hand over the bowl and let the yoke fall out to mix in with the previous yoke.

“You’ve done it, madam, you’ve officially cracked an egg.”

I nudged him with my elbow as he laughed, and I hoped he didn’t see me blush.

He showed me how to whisk then, when we had cracked the amount he needed, and when to add the rest of the ingredients. He showed me how to butter the pan, told me oil was good too, showed me how to pour, and wait and flip, and how to watch the colour, how to make sure it didn’t burn.

He broke off a small bit, let me taste it, and I remembered tasting his finger a little too.

At the very end he showed me how to serve the dish and make it look beautiful.

“Almost as beautiful as you” he said, which forced me to bury the urges I felt even deeper down or I would’ve abandoned my oath right then and there.

I took it all in as best as I could but I found that I had made the most effort to memorise his touch, his breath, his smile, his sparkling eyes as they looked at me, and how it felt to be guided by those hands knowing I couldn’t guide them the way I wanted to. Or where I wanted.

By that time, everyone else had made their way to the kitchen and we seated ourselves around the bench. Usopp told tales of his daring adventures while Luffy reacted with wows and shouts of awe, and Zorro sat silently eating as much as Luffy it seemed. Nami gave me a wry smile as she sat between Sanji and me.

“Well done, sous chef,” she whispered, and I glanced up at Sanji to see if he heard her. He met my eyes with a grin.

“I hope you all enjoyed your omelettes this morning,” he said cheerfully, “you have the lovely y/n to thank for them today, I was merely her assistant.”

Luffy gaped, “you made this y/n?”

“Yes but-” I began, but he raised his goblet and said, “A toast to the best omelettes I have ever eaten in my life and the best cooks in the East Blue!”

Everyone raised the mugs in agreement and cheered and drank and laughed, and I could only blush and think how lucky I was to find this crew, even if it may only be for a short while longer.

* * *

I found Zoro on the lower deck, napping against the mast, as I made my way down to mop the deck. With one hand placed on his hilt and the other behind his neck, he slouched lazily, unbothered, as I began on the floor in front of him.

“So you like the waiter huh?” He said after I had been at it for some time.

He didn’t open his eyes.

I stopped and leaned on the mop. “I just asked him to teach me how to cook, that's all.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“There’s nothing there, I just-”

He let out a loud “ha” sound and opened his eyes.

“Here I thought you were gonna stay low, keep your guard up and stay on until you needed to, like you told me in Shellstown, but now you're drooling in your soup over the waiter, who’s so eager to serve. So much for that plan of yours.”

I gripped the mop handle so hard I thought it would splinter into my hand.

I moved close to him so that my words came across as a whispered growl. “You know nothing.”

“I know that I risked my ass to bring you with us,” he growled back, “and that keeping you with us is an even greater risk. I know that if the others knew you were a swordsman, a hunted one at that, they’d ask more questions than was good for them or you. And I know I’m the only one you can trust out here and the only one who can help you track that Baroque works shithead before he gets you too. So please, don’t try to bullshit me.”

He was still slumped lazily against the mast but his eyes betrayed no sign of weakness. I crouched down so that I was eye level with him, holding the mop to steady myself.

“You don’t think I can keep my own feelings in check?”

“I’m not trying to piss you off, y/n,” he said, his demeanour unchanged, “but I can’t be quiet either. You said to call you out if I saw you get distracted.”

“He’s not a distraction.”

“But he won’t be safe either way.”

“Why are you so concerned all of a sudden,” I scowled, “it’s not like you give a shit about him. You two are such best friends, aren’t you?”

Zorro made a groan of frustration as he got up, his swords clinking against each other like bells. I rose to meet his eyes, still clinging to my mop.

“You swore to me that nothing would get in the way of you avenging what you lost and that you would lose nothing and no one else on your path. I swore that I would help you see it through to the end.” He clinked his swords as he rested his hand on top of the hilts. “So I’m warning you now,” he continued solemnly, “if you’re not more careful, you may keep that oath but lose something after all.”

He held my gaze for a moment, his eyes a fiery dark amber in the sunlight, before walking away slowly and down into the bowels of the ship.

My heart pounded in my ears.

My hands ached from where I had strangled the wooden mop handle.

As Zoro walked out of my view, I looked up to the balcony on the mid deck above and saw Sanji standing there, brooding it seemed.

No… watching me.

Swirling grey tendrils of smoke coiled in the air as he pulled a long breath and puffed out.

The glow of his cigarette reflected like fiery embers in the darkness of his glare.

[pdpenpals]

hihi! i was wondering if i could get a romantic letter from phoenix drop high gene? she/they pronouns please :)

and for the context of the letter, maybe Gene & Reader recently started dating but can’t text because Reader is away at an academic sleep away camp (preferably centered around literature/writing)? Reader is on the more academic/nerdy side and not officially part of the SK so them doing these kinds of programs is their usual summer thing but it’s the first time Gene and Reader have been away from eachother since they started dating

tysm <33

hihi!! thanks for sending this in, i think this prompt’s absolutely adorable!

unrelated but speaking of literature whenever i see gene now that i’m older i think of heathcliff (more of the name) or the phantom for some reason.

your entire being perks up at the mention that a letter’s arrived, and your heart races as you go through who could have possibly sent it in your head. the moment you have it in your hands, you can almost tell exactly who it’s from. the envelope’s a dark gray, close enough to be black. there are stickers all over its back next to your name and address, same goes for the front. opening it, you catch a whiff of someone familiar’s cologne. that cheeky bastard. 

you notice almost immediately that there’s not only a letter inside, but a bunch of printed photos and some unused stickers. after finding a spot to settle your new goodies upon, you get comfy and get to reading.

Hey cutie. Miss me yet? 

Heard a fair’s coming to town soon. I think it’ll still be there when you get back. There should even be fireworks on the last day. We can go there if you wanna.

Other than that, nothing much happened today. Dante was out, and I had the house to myself for a good portion of the afternoon. Without sugarcoating it, I was bored out of my mind.

It took me a while to figure out my texts or calls weren’t getting through to you. Mom must have seen how frustrated I was about it, so she shared some of her spare stationery with me as a last resort. She said something about wanting to hear about how your summer’s been doing so far.

That’s all the small talk I can handle for today. You might get too tired of staring at only words for too long over there, so you might want to check out the pics taken these past few days. The stickers are from Zenix and Sasha by the way, they also say hi.

Kidding aside, I know how much this whole camp thing means to you.  But I’ve been feeling weird ever since you left. It’s weirder knowing you’re not nearby. When you’re not a walk or a call away. Even though I know exactly how many days and many hours are left until you come back.

Sappy shit out the way, I decided to read that one book you lent me at random. I’m not sure you remember it much since you hurriedly gave it to me without a second thought, but it’s that really old one about the day before the world ends. All that apocalyptic and sad shit. Even though I didn’t get it, I guess it was nice that Vincent and Leticia got their happy ending. To be honest, the book overall didn’t stand out to me much, but the concept of having one day left to live sure did.

If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would

Y’know, maybe it’s for the best I save it for when we meet again in person, so you better come back home in one piece, yeah?

With an aching heart and hand, Your Gene, who misses you terribly

PS. I feel like you’ve been rubbing off on me recently, state-of-mind-wise. While it’s not that bad, it gives me the chills.

PPS. If not having you near me hasn't driven me insane yet, I definitely will go mad if this letter doesn't make it to you. Especially after all I've put my wrist through just for this. Maybe I should visit the post office a few more times?

[teyums]

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. She f*cks you.”

Ao’nung headcanon (no use of yn!)

⚠️ All characters are age 18 or over in this story. I will not write Ao’nung in a suggestive manner unless he is aged up.

Wc: 1.2k

I myself haven’t seen anyone write Ao’nung as submissive so I was happy to. And personally, I think this fits him way more hehe. 🤭

includes: suggestive/strong language.

part two

• Because Ao’nung is such a dickhead and so headstrong all the time, I think its pretty damn obvious that it’s merely a tough front he puts on to throw any one off from finding out he’s submissive as hell, especially you. He’s actually a sucker for the woman he loves. This man literally WORSHIPS the ground you walk on and he lives for that shit. That big and bad act is simply a disguise to hide the fact that he’s actually a bitch boy. He would definitely listen to whatever you say and follow your directions to a T.

•He’s had women pine after him before but they quickly gave up because he’s so damn rude, leaving him with zero potential mates before you came along. No other na’vi woman was willing to put up with his attitude, or better yet, see right through that shit and squash it like you did. Or maybe no other woman had the power to. The mere thought of you was enough to get this man off, he was like putty in your hands; completely infatuated with you.

Something in your bones always told you that bully act was one big bluff. The first time Ao’nung hurt your feelings while you were dating, you denied his want to touch you for two whole days. When he expressed his disapproval of your decision, you made him get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or he wouldn’t be able to touch you for two weeks. Two weeks without touching you for Ao’nung would feel like two years. It’s not a surprise that he’s incredibly clingy and gets upset when he can’t be near you 24/7, so you knew exactly what to hold against him when he made you mad. Jeez, what a fuckin baby. Talk about mommy issues.

“Baby, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it, will you forgive me?” He spoke softly and looked down at you with doe eyes, hoping to get off the hook and have this be over with. You stood in front of him and let out a dry laugh, arms crossed and expression unamused. Now he knew good and well you wouldn’t go that easy. Him being an entire foot taller than you didn’t phase you and he knew that. Some of the other men laughed when they would see a sight such as this. How is such a small, feeble woman controlling the olo’eyktan’s son like she’s his handler? What kind of spell did you put on him?

You stared up at Ao’nung through your long lashes, hard. Completely unwavered by his attempt at winning you over.

He sighed and reached for you, but before he could even brush a finger against your arm you swatted his hand away.

“You don’t get to touch.” You hissed, earning a whine and almost a frustrated stomp from the boy who seemed sooo tough.

God, you loved to see him squirm.

“Beg for it.” You demanded, your gaze mean and unfaltering. You didn’t feel bad, Ao’nung treated everyone else like this and you were simply giving him a taste of his own medicine. Besides, he liked it anyway. The boy has a thing for dominant women, who would have guessed.

He sighed, looking around at the other na’vi strolling on the beach and cursing under his breath. “Please, please forgive me.” He spoke, sounding so much smaller than before, both in voice and confidence.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Is this what you call begging, Ao’nung? That’s pathetic, you know better. Do not waste my time.”

“Ugh… right now? Like, here? People will see me.” He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck and spoke in a hushed tone so nobody around would hear what he was saying. He had an image to uphold, the tough son of the olo’eyktan who didn’t take shit from anybody and gave shit to everybody. If anyone saw you controlling him like this, he feared it would damage his “reputation”. Or more so his ego.

You didn’t care though, this shit turned you on. And no matter how much he complained about it, you knew it turned him on too. He would never hide the way he looked at you as if he wanted to pounce, and his body gave him up as if you had offered it a cash reward.

“Fine, three weeks.” You responded plainly and shrugged after upping his timeout, turning on your heels to walk until he grabbed your wrist and sunk down to his knees before your footing could even change in the sand.

“Wait, wait! Please, my love… I’m sorry” He apologized, genuinely this time. You could hear the desperation in his voice and it made your core tingle with need. He held your smaller sized hand in both of his much larger ones and pressed his lips against the back of it, smothering it with kisses incessantly and apologizing between each one.

Ao’nung was aware of what he had just been told, no touching. But he couldn’t help himself, he needed his hands on you every minute of the day, whether it be him kissing the back of your hand as if you were royalty or you playing in his hair while he dozed away on your chest. At this point, you had long forgiven him but seeing this big so called ‘bully’ down on his knees in front of you to earn back something so simple as the right to touch you, made you hot. You raised an eyebrow and lifted your chin at him, taking your hand back and placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His eyes widened slightly and he shook his head, wrapping his muscular arms around your torso he hugged you tightly from below.

“Please princess, I will do anything… whatever you want. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. Just take me off punishment.” He whined desperately, the side of his face pressed just below your navel, his grip on you strong.

Feeling your breath quietly catch in your throat as you watched him, you re-centered yourself to stop your legs from trembling. Many thoughts passed through your mind and you felt your skin heating up with his face pressed up against your body. You hummed, trying to decide on one of many options and gently brushing your fingers back between the lines of scalp next to his braids.

“Anything I want?” You cooed, chewing on your bottom lip slightly and earning an instant nod from the boy who was at your complete disposal.

“Ao’nung, up.” You beckoned and used your hand to raise his chin, seeing him look up at you in admiration from below as he quickly rose back to his feet at your direction. Taking his hand, you eyed him up and down deviously while he became more and more impatient with every second that passed. The shadow on his loincloth looked much different than it did when this conversation had started. The fabric was beginning to stretch, becoming taut and hinting at his arousal. He witnessed hunger and desire cloud your eyes, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip and his eyes watching you feverishly while he waited on your next move.

“Come.” You giggled, turning around and pulling him along like a lost puppy. A sigh of relief left his lips and the goofiest smile painted its way onto his face. You could damn near see the hearts flying in a halo around this boy’s head, he was so lovestruck. His ears perked up and his stride looked drunken as he allowed you to drag him back to your tent, his eyes falling to your backside and exposing how eager he was to fulfill whatever promise he had made to you.

a/n: Alright I’m back in my groove now yall! This was so fun to write and it came to me so easily. I’m a sucker for obedient men who do as they’re told, what can I say. 🫠 I’m not sure how far in detail i’ll go when it comes to smut with ao’nung or neteyam (aged up ofc). I do know that I’ll probably get requests for multiple parts so If I write more you might see an increase in strong language or suggestive/m🅰️ture themes but I’ll have to see about that. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated. 💞

tag list ⬇️

@mcdonalds-playground

[renata-has-thoughts]

I've never done an ask before so this might suck

There is little to no narrator x readers and your writing is the best I've ever seen!!!!

If you have spare time could you pretty please possibly make another narrator smut where he's all pent up desperate and whiny but then fucks fem reader as rough as he can?

Kinda friend's to lovers almost?

If it's stupid or embarrassing please ignore this request all together!

Outlet

Pairing: Tyler Durden (Narrator) x f!reader W/C: 1.6k

Includes: NSFW!Friends to lovers, rough sex, penetrative sex, mutual orgasm, and, as requested, pent up Tyler.

A/N: Stupid? Embarrassing? Anon, we have nothing to be ashamed of. The Narrator is hot, this is indisputable fact.

“So you’re telling me…you have a club…where you fight. That you’re in…” you muttered, punctuating your words by tapping the table between you two alongside your disbelieving words.

“Yeah.” Tyler nodded without further explanation, taking a sip of his drink as if he had said enough. As if this were a normal thing to say.

“Y’know, when you told me you couldn’t hang out because you had ‘a club meeting’ all those times, I thought it was something stupid-or more importantly, normal, like a book club…or chess club, or something. But here you are willingly going to get your ass beat every week.”

“Why are you assuming I’m the one losing the fights?” Tyler asked, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

You paused, and shrugged. Granted, he has become a lot more toned over these past few months. More prominent muscles, a bit more confidence, the like.

“Right. Well, to each their own, but…try not to get too hurt, alright? Don’t expect me to nurse you back to health.” You sighed, staring at your drink.

“I wouldn’t burden you with something like that.” Tyler said, finishing off his own drink. A moment of comfortable silence passed. You two were good friends, had been for awhile, so it never was awkward anymore.

“Why?” You asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Why do you fight? Why are you in that club?”

Tyler ran his finger along the rim of the empty bottle for a second, then replied, “it’s helpful, I guess. It’s an outlet.”

“As in, therapeutic?”

“Yeah. I mean, everyone has their ways of getting out that anger. Getting an adrenaline rush.” He explained, his eyes leaving yours, and added, “I guess some with actual therapy, yeah, or healthy things like writing or sex.” He didn’t look up, especially at that last part. You noted that he hasn’t had a girlfriend, or otherwise, in the whole time you’ve known him, which was a good amount of time. Then you realized, neither had you.

“I feel like there’s a difference between things like therapy, writing and such, and sex.” You said, and put your drink aside, with your final swig. Usually by now, during these afternoons where you’d meet up at your house for drinks, Tyler would say his goodbyes, but now he merely shifted back in his chair.

“Depends.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as in, it depends on the sex.”

“Why? Is fighting for you a substitute for sexual frustration?” You laughed, but partly a genuine question, too.

“Well it’s not like fighting gets me going or anything, but they both relieve a similar thing.”

A silence simmered yet again.

For once, it was awkward.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” You questioned softly.

“…I dunno. …maybe a year by now.” He responded, meeting your eyes again.

You thought, and recalled that it had been the same amount of time of celibacy for you, too.

“Same here.” You admitted, and caught his gaze.

Yes. You were very much attracted to him. It’s no secret you two had flirted playfully, but it was nothing more than banter, right?

By the way he looked at you then, you could tell it was never that casual for him.

Suddenly, he looked away again, clearing his throat as if catching himself.

“Thanks for the drinks, as usual. Uhm, I should get going.” He said, rising from his chair.

You mirrored his actions, but then rounded the table to stand before him in a swift action.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Tyler.” You stopped him, grabbing his hand.

Something flashed in his eyes when you said that, like a prediction of your coming words.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when your other hand grabbed his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I-I think you’re-“

“Say I can kiss you. Tell me to kiss you. Right fucking now.” Tyler interrupted, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes widened.

“Please.” You whimpered.

He tilted his head, eyes closing as he pressed his body to you, along with his lips to yours. It started small, drawing away for a second for him to breathe in before returning, open-mouthed this time, his tongue sliding next to yours. He moaned into the kiss, and soon so did you when his hand slid to slowly knead your waist.

You began shifting back, tugging him by his shirt while you broke the kiss, guiding him to your room.

“Tyler,” you explained as you headed to your bed, “get it out on me.”

“W-What?” He gasped as you let go of him to slide off your shirt.

“The tension. All that’s pent up in you.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whined under his breath upon seeing you now only in your bra. “Yeah, yeah, I…I can do that.” He nodded, swallowing down his nerves.

“I can take it, Tyler. Whatever you give me. I can take it.” You promised, staring into his eyes.

“Really?” He murmured again, still in that whiny tone.

“Yes.”

His breathing halted, then sped up, like a racehorse when the gun fires, he fumbled at his jeans, stripping them off. He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed on top of you, keeping a hand pressed down on you after he threw off his shirt.

“God, you’re so hot. I’ve always thought that,” Tyler rambled, tugging your pants off.

“Do you know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You moaned while he rid you of the rest of your clothes, bra and all.

“Fuck, holy shit-don’t even-don’t even tease me like that. I don’t think I can g-get any harder than I am.” He exemplified this by taking off his boxers, leaving you both naked and panting already.

“Please, please use me,” you cried, gripping onto his shoulders.

“Want me to treat you rough? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Two fingers dipped down into you, smoothing along the wetness you had ever since he had mentioned the mere idea of sex.

You moaned loudly, not just by the feeling, but the fact it was Tyler. It was Tyler, of all people, fucking you. Finally.

His fingers left you to grab himself, pushing him into you steadily, groaning at the feeling of pressure around his cock, you easily inviting him, warm and slick.

“I knew you would f-feel so good. I knew it.” He whined, both hands groping your waist and pulling you down along into him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and your head rose to mouth desperately at his neck. That was his final breaking point.

He began thrusting into you, using every inch of his cock through your impossible tightness. It seemed like every part of you went numb except for the places he was hitting.

It was euphoric. It was Tyler fucking you. And he was fucking you good.

His breathing occurred through grit teeth and growls, his pace unyielding. The spots in which he was grabbing your waist to shove you into him while he thrusted would surely bruise in the morning, and your body got hot just by thinking about that.

Tyler shot one hand up to your neck, just under your jaw, and you gasped in surprise, although it was quickly drowned out by stuttered whimpers as he continued his abuses. His fingers prodded into your mouth, with his palm firmly on your neck. You took them in hungrily, licking and sucking on them, making him moan. His reaction was enough to make you shiver.

“You f-feel so good.” You managed through the obstruction of not only his fingers but the overwhelming pleasure.

“Yeah?” He promoted, removing his hand placement on your neck in favor of slotting his damp fingers above your clit. “You like it rough?” He growled, proceeding to change his quick thrusts to hard slams.

From the combination of everything he was doing, you felt sweat form on your brow.

“Tyler, I-I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Hm? Cum for me.”

“Don’t stop! Please, fuck, don’t-“

“Baby, I don’t plan on it.”

There it was. Your orgasm approached you with the same raging force as Tyler’s pace. Hot and dizzying. As he vowed, he did not stop, staying at the same speed despite the mumbling of curses under his breath, stammered ramblings of ‘so tight’, ‘yes, fuck yes’.

You couldn’t help but bite his neck as you let the remnants of your orgasm finish onto him. He groaned loudly as your teeth found purchase in his skin, and he pulled out just as your orgasm faded to grab his cock and guide himself through his orgasm, cumming onto your stomach with breathy whines, his composure shattering with each small sound.

You left a kiss on the mark you made on his neck, letting your head fall back onto the bed to look into his eyes, drained but still transfixed on you.

“Tyler? You there?” You smiled.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck.” He replied, catching his breath. “Are you alright?”

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had, Tyler.” You were saying that genuinely. “Of course I'm alright.”

His eyes seemed to light up, despite his exhaustion when you said that.

“Thank god.” He mumbled, lowering himself to lie by your side, running his hands through his hair to collect himself. “That was definitely the best for me, too.” His eyes fell closed.

“Could I ask you one more favor?”

“Sure, anything.” Tyler responded, opening his eyes again.

“Uhm…” you began, and gestured to your stomach, where he just came on.

“Oh! Right! Shit, sorry.” Tyler laughed, getting up from the bed and heading to your closet, grabbing his boxers along the way and sliding them back on.

You felt content in that moment. You first regarded your attraction to Tyler as frivolous and one-sided, yet now you watched him leaning down beside you, wiping you off with a washcloth and kissing your forehead.

[arachine]

. . . a promise of a new tomorrow .ᐟ

pairing. neteyam sully x fem!avatar!reader

synopsis. after an eye-opening, close call during one of his raids against the RDA, neteyam falls into a pit of despair. to ease his unsteady heart, he comes home to reader in seek of salvation + very, very, very loosely based on this ask !

genre. mature general tags. smut, angst, fluff content warnings. vaginal penetration, riding, mean-ish sex that turns into soft sex, lots of crying, lots of vulnerability, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death… word count. 2.5k ! notes. this really isn’t that filthy, i was v sad when writing this and wanted to write smth a little angsty >: but i’m back !!! did y’all miss me? >.< song. i listened to wicked games by chris isaak while i was writing this. and yes, i was thinking of pedro pascal.

you’ve come for the umpteenth time tonight. neck, chest, and extremities littered in hickies and love bites—a true testament to neteyam’s ever-growing frustration.

this was beginning to become routine. you, with your face pressed down into the slick-sodden sheets, and him, with a mean scowl and a hungry appetite. 

you knew that on the days when he came home like this, it never had anything to do with you. he made sure to tell you that—always apologizing for the scorned hand prints falling from your neck to your ankles, and the limp in your knees. 

sometimes he just needed an outlet. and you were always so willing to provide that for him, welcoming him home with open arms, and open legs. it was his salvation. and after a long, strenuous day of devising battle plans, and ordering men around, he wanted nothing more than to sink his cock into you—inch by fucking inch. 

“what happened today?” you queried inquisitively with a drawn out moan, “was it your father?”

neteyam frowns at this, and instead responds with a piercing thrust. the mean scowl plastered on his face is a silent assurance that he’d prefer your silence—or, at the very least, your interest in another topic that doesn’t involve his dad. 

“d-don’t be mean. just wanna know what’s bothering my baby,” your hand finds transitory solace on the skin of his cheek, and then he removes it, opting to pin it against your back when he flips you over. 

“do not concern yourself with such matters,” he tightens his hold on your arm, “let me focus on you—all of you.” 

neteyam lifts you up by the arm and pulls you tight against his chest, taking advantage of the new angle to relay stroke after deep stroke. 

god, you were so warm, so comforting. he found consolation in knowing that after a long day, he’d be coming home to this, the best pussy on pandora.

it was all he thought about today—well, that and what he was going to do with one of his newest trainees. that’s who was responsible for his current frustration, though, you were kind of on the ball when you guessed his father. but his dad was always annoying. that was nothing new. this kid, though? he was going to be the death of him—if lo’ak didn’t beat him to it. 

the kid was a ticking time bomb. he was impatient, brash, and stupid—but he was strong, and that was valuable. maybe a little too valuable, because even after so many fuck-ups, he still got off scot-free. much to his dismay.

he’s just a kid, his father would say. he’s got talent. yeah, well, he was just a kid once too. a boy that was tasked with responsibilities far too grown for his age, and yet, he didn’t do half of the things this kid was getting away with. no way, not in hell. 

neteyam grimaces when he recalls the last thing his father had said to him before the raid. give him a chance, son. he’s strong, like you.

it was true. the young soldier had many talents, but strength alone could not win a battle—let alone a war. you needed smarts, discipline—strategy. and the kid harbored none of these.

i will try, father. and he did try, he really did. many a times, but to no avail. every approach was met with disobedience. a rude remark. a hiss. and these things ruin a man’s reputation, you know. if he couldn’t control one kid, keep him in line, then who’s to say his men wouldn’t begin to look down on him? question his authority and rank in the clan? 

he wishes he could just tell his father no, that he won’t take him under his wing—but then he’d bear the shame of being unable to tame a soldier. the clan would have no place for a future olo’eyktan who couldn’t complete such a simple task. 

so, yes, the boy was strong, but strength is of no worth if the individual yielding it is a liability. neteyam didn’t know how to help him.

“ten men almost died today.” a beat, then a forceful hand on your shoulder, pressing you down into the makeshift bed. you don’t interrupt…don’t say anything, just look at him through your peripheral, eyes heavy and glossy. 

he withdraws his length from inside of you. holds the weight of his cock in his hand, and rubs it a few times. spits on it. let’s the thick sputum trickle down to the mushroomy head and pushes back into you without warning. 

a high-pitched scream vacates from your throat, causing his ears to perk up, the pointed appendages twitching in response. 

there’s a hesitance when his mouth parts to speak, and you notice it. you think he’ll continue, but he doesn’t. clearly, something heavy is weighing on his heart. 

taking initiation, you push him off of you and settle down onto his lap, reaching a gentle hand behind you to grab his length. he sighs, long and breathy when you lower yourself down, and attempts to rock your hips against him but you grab hold of his wrists. 

“what are you doing? move, baby, please,” he pleads, leaning forward to kiss down the column of your neck. in retaliation, you tilt your neck to create distance, and he frowns. 

“i won’t move until you tell me what’s wrong,” your hands reach to cup his face, thumbs padding soothingly across the scars that now litter his cheeks. war has aged him, you’ve noticed. his face is skinnier, and his eyes droop with fatigue. 

they were lively, once. when you were a girl, and he, just a boy telling you about all of his aspirations of becoming a warrior. they sparkled, then. but now? now they’re dull, void of animation. just tired, amber irises that tell the stories of fallen men. 

you prayed that he wouldn’t become one of them—that he wouldn’t die fighting a battle much older than himself. you prayed to eywa for mercy, for peace—but the claws of war were far too deep into neteyam for her to intervene. 

“clearly something is troubling you,” your voice is gentle, saccharine sweet, “...you said something earlier that was concerning. please, what is it?”

his calloused fingers squeeze the fat of your hips once, and for a split second, you see his face glaze over in fear. he’s tucking his lips between his teeth with a quiver, as if he were fighting down a cry. defeatedly, his head drops forward in your hold, and a saltine dew drop ribbons down the expanse of his cheek. 

“they almost…” his voice has grown quiet, “they almost died because of me!” 

the last bit comes out broken, something real raw and raspy. it physically pains you, to say the least—seeing him like this, in this manner. for all the years you’ve known your husband, you’ve never known him to outwardly express his feelings—to wear his heart on his sleeve. not until this very moment. 

he’d always been tight-lipped and brave. selfless and reliable. he protected those who needed protecting, and often disregarded his own well-being because…he was taught so. to him, his safety and feelings were an afterthought. and after so many years of devotedly trying to uphold his reputation as the ‘exemplary older brother’, he forgot what it felt like to slip. to fall victim to na’vi error. 

you wanted to let him know it was okay to be vulnerable. that this was a safe space and that he could confide in you always—even if nobody else was listening. so, you attempt to help him in the only way you know how. through touch. through sweet, gentle words. 

“i want you to listen to me very carefully.” this is when you move, when his head is buried in the crevice of your neck, and his tears dribble down the valley of your breasts. reluctantly, he lifts his head from where it lays, and begrudgingly flits his eyes up to meet your gaze. 

“you, neteyam,” you raise your hips, “are,” a slam, “just,” another raise, “a man.” again, you repeat it. part your lips all nice and pretty, and whisper it into his ear, his neck, against his lips…anywhere and everywhere. whispering it over, and over, and over until it becomes a mantra—until it sticks. because he needs to hear it, and compartmentalize it, and sit with it, and—

he whimpers into your mouth, looks up at you with glossy eyes and a twinge in his brow line. his features have gone soft, and for a moment, you can feel your heart aching. twisting. has war done such irreparable damage that you’ve forgotten what his face looked like during sex? what it could look like? the face he makes when he’s pleased, and truly feeling, and not just fucking you as a means to conquer his frustration?

you miss this face. 

“you are a leader, a protector, a brother, a son—but you are not a god. you’re my husband, and my confidant, and…” your voice decrescendos. you take a moment before speaking again, and instead rock yourself against him, suddenly developing a proclivity for silence. neteyam kisses up your neck, across the skin of your jaw, and then comes to a halt when he reaches your lips. 

“finish,” he commands, though, it’s less of a command and more of a plea. his breath is soft and hot against your mouth, and his eyes dart frantically between your lips and eyes. he’s intrigued, he wants to hear what you have to say. “say it. say it or i will kiss it out of you.” 

smiling, you lean into him real slow, chest to chest, heart to heart and whisper into his ear, ”...and, the father of my child.” 

neteyam jerks his head back as if he’s misheard you. looks you up and down, tilts his head in disbelief, and then his eyes widen beyond imagination. that’s when he gets it, that’s when it starts to feel real. and so, for a second time, you see that all too familiar face again. the one that you missed seeing so much. 

“are you really with child?” his voice cracks. suddenly, his previous qualms have become insignificant. well, they were still pretty important, but he’d deal with them later. 

“yes, might be my best kept secret yet,” you jest, wrapping your arms around his neck. a tear ribbons down his cheek and he smiles, all bright-eyed and full of warmth. oh, how you want to spend the rest of your days with this man, just smiling. basking in the sweet warmth and love that you know he still has so much to offer. 

“you cruel girl,” now he’s got you flipped on your back. you open your legs again for him to retake residence, and giggle into your shoulder when he scrunches his nose at you. 

“so, so, so cruel…” he glares, feigning faux disdain. the boy shimmies down the length of your body, pressing wet kisses in his wake, and comes to a stop when he reaches the crest of your belly. 

“never,” a kiss, “do,” another, “that” a third, “again.” 

he emphasizes the last one with a loud smack, then licks it, to which you laugh at and push him away. neteyam sighs and settles into a spot beside you, but doesn’t withdraw his hands from your body. he keeps a single arm slung over your stomach, lets his fingers rub the skin there mindlessly while the other is propped up parallel to your head. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, breaking the rather transient moment of silence. at first, you’re not even sure if he’s talking to you—partly because it came out more like a hush (and you weren’t really certain if he said anything at all), but mostly because his eyes have not moved once from your stomach. then, he shifts his body to a position where his eyes can meet your gaze. there’s a sorrowful look in them. 

“i’m sorry, (name). i’ve been so neglectful. my worst fear would be you growing to resent me,” he admits, “i don’t know if i could bear that.” oh, your heart is breaking. how could you ever resent him? how could he not know how much you yearned for him? how much you desire him? and not just sexually, but spiritually, and emotionally? yes, war had taken bits of him that you’d never get back, but in no way, shape, or form could you ever hate him. you’d swallow your own tongue before doing that. 

“‘teyam,” you reach a nimble hand to cup his cheek, “you are the moon of my life. if a day where i’d grow to hate you should ever come, i’d hope the great mother would strike me dead.” you laugh at this but he doesn’t. 

“seriously, i don’t want to hear you say that again. you are enough. you are kind, good, patient, and exactly everything i want in a man who’s going to be the father of my child.” this time, you sit up and take his face into your hands, pull him in real close so that he can take in every word.

“i’m sorry that you were given such heavy responsibilities as a child, and i’m sorry that i cannot take away some of that pain that i know weighs so heavy in your heart…” you start, “but believe me when i say you’re going to be the best father ever, and you’re gonna shower him in so much love, and-”

neteyam sits up, “him?” 

you purse your lips. another cat out of the bag. “i don’t want you to get too excited but, yes, mo’at thinks so. she says his heart is strong.” 

overcome with immense excitement, neteyam quickly scoops you up into a bear hug and rises to his feet. he spins you around in circles, chanting a string of nonsensical things but the most repeated are: ‘i’m gonna be a dad’ and ‘a boy, it’s a boy’. 

a series of giggles vacate from your throat, and you paw at his chest in protest to be put down. but he’s relentless, just shouting and parading you around your tent as if there’s an audience there to actually congratulate you. 

“okay, okay, enough!” you shout, trying to escape his hold. eventually, he begins to settle down and decides to heed your instructions by setting you back down on your feet. before you can slip away back to bed, he pulls you in close. 

“there will never be a day where you’ll have to do this alone,” he whispers, then kneels down to eye level with your stomach, “i swear it.”

© arachine 2023

[rollinouttahere-writes]

@kazenomegaminowanpisu I'm sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it! Thank you so much for this request. As someone who loves Sanji and is also very passionate about cooking/baking, this was suuuuper self indulgent and I loved writing it!

Sweet Tastes and Gentle Touches

Sanji x Fem!Reader

2.3k words

The sweet embrace of a good night’s rest is something that often evaded Sanji for one reason or another. Whether it be nightmares or the simple fact that sleeping in the same room as a bunch of other men was hardly peaceful, he knew he didn’t get anywhere near enough sleep to be healthy.

Zeff and the other cooks on the Baratie got on his ass regularly when he was caught having late night smoke breaks when he should have been sleeping. Here though, he usually didn’t have to worry about being lectured by anyone. Everyone else was either sleeping or was also up when they shouldn’t be so they had no room to judge. 

Currently, he was having another one of those sleepless nights. It was too early to be getting a head start on breakfast, so his only plan for the time being was to smoke outside until it was closer to that time.

At least that was the plan, but then he saw light coming from the kitchen. His teeth ground together in frustration. That damned bottomless pit of a captain is at it again! He could’ve sworn Luffy was still asleep when he left the room, when did he get into the kitchen?! He stuffed his pack of cigarettes back into his pocket and stormed into the invaded kitchen to save the crew from Luffy inhaling a week’s worth of food in two minutes. 

He busts open the door, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of here outside of mealtimes?!” Sanji’s voice became louder with each word, punctuated by the door slamming into the wall from the force that he kicked it with.

What he had expected to see was Luffy attempting to break the locks on the fridge and pantry. 

What he actually saw was his dear, sweet, beloved (y/n) looking back at him with a startled expression. One of the cabinets was open and you were in the middle of pulling down the kettle.

Sanji’s heart stopped and horror from his actions clawed at his throat. He had just yelled at the love of his life like an actual monster. 

You appeared to be as confused as you were surprised and began putting the kettle back where it came from, “I-I’m sorry, I guess I must have forgotten.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no! I didn’t mean that! I mean- I did but I thought you were Luffy! NOT that I think you look like him, you don’t, but he’s usually the one sneaking into the kitchen at night!” Sanji all but ran at you and snatched the kettle from your hands as he spoke a mile a minute. “Sit down! I’ll make some tea for you! Just relax!”

Sanji wanted to throw himself overboard for his transgression against you, and the only thing keeping him from doing so was the stronger urge to pamper you after having the audacity to raise his voice like that.

The situation seemed to have clicked in your mind, and like the angel you were, you simply giggled at the misunderstanding. In his humble opinion, he felt like he deserved to be punted into the sea and screamed at, but you just laughed it off. 

He didn’t deserve you. Which is why he’s kept his feelings close to the chest. As close to his chest as someone like him could, at least. Naturally, he was powerless to the need to fawn over you as much as every other lady that crossed paths with him, but he did nothing to let you know that it was more than the kind of fawning everyone else received. 

“You don’t need to do all that, Sanji, I can do it,” your hand rested on his shoulder, making his breath catch in his throat. You smiled warmly at him, “Did I wake you up? I’m awfully sorry if I did, I thought I was being quiet.”

“No! I was already awake, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you could never do anything wrong in his book. Using the hand not holding the kettle, he placed it on the small of your back and guided you to the table, “Please allow me do this for you, I insist.”

Much to his delight, you did take a seat. You positioned the chair so that you could watch him as he zipped around the kitchen to gather everything he needed to make your tea. There was no need to ask what you wanted, he already had it memorized. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he caught you staring at him in what he believed to be amusement. You made eye contact briefly before he snapped back to what he was doing with his face feeling hot. He cleared his throat, “What are you doing awake at this hour, (y/n)-chan? Is there something bothering you?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong, I just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. Usually I do some late night baking when this happens, but since everything else was locked up I settled for tea,” you explained casually, chin resting on your fist.

Sanji froze and a giddy feeling bubbled up from within him. Who was he to pass up the golden opportunity that he was currently being presented with. After doing what he could to school his expression so he didn’t look completely desperate, he turned to face you, “Do you still want to bake something? I would love to join you if you’d be so gracious.” 

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to at least try to get some sleep before breakfast?”

Ever the sweetheart, you were kind enough to be concerned for his well being. Everything was fine though, just being able to spend time with you would energize him more than a full night's rest. Sanji grinned, “Of course I’m sure, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.” He fully meant that.

“Alright, who am I to deny the help of such a talented cook?” You stood up from the chair and breezed past him to wash your hands at the kitchen sink. 

Sanji is pretty sure his heart just burst from the compliment, that was the only explanation for how hot his chest felt. It’s not like what you were doing here was anything new, you two work together in the kitchen all the time.

The first time you’d offered your help, he’d assumed it was just to be polite and nothing more. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to put yourself out like that, but when you insisted that you actually really enjoyed cooking he caved.

He tried to tell himself that the butterflies in his stomach were nothing unusual. This was just because he was happy to be around someone else who had a passion for culinary arts again. That was it. Definitely. 

Oh, who was he kidding? Sanji was head over heels for you by the end of your first cooking session together. How could he not be? You two worked so well together, it was like he’d found his other half. His soulmate, if such a thing existed.

Not that he was doing anything about it. He felt like you deserved better than him, and he wasn’t going to give you a chance to make that decision for yourself. 

Sanji was torn from his thoughts by your hand waving in front of his face. He reeled back in surprise and you giggled, “Are you sure you aren’t too tired?” Shit, had you been calling his name and he hadn’t heard you?

“Positive!” His voice cracked, and he wanted to throw himself out the window because of it. Mercifully, you didn’t comment on the embarrassment and only quirked a brow at him. Sanji cleared his throat, “I’m wide awake, I promise. What did you want to bake?”

“We bought some strawberries at the island yesterday, right? Could we make a strawberry shortcake?” You looked at him hopefully, waiting for his answer.

“Of course, anything for you, (y/n)-chan!” Sanji slipped around you and fished the keys for the fridge and pantry out of his pocket. Behind him, he could hear you digging out the required utensils for the cake.

Not even that marimo could wipe the smile off Sanji’s face right now, he’s sure of it. He couldn’t help but notice that both of you were still clad in your sleepwear. His consisted of sweatpants and a tank top. You were wearing a beautiful nightgown in your favorite color with a silk robe over it, both of which were gifted to you by himself. He knew it would flatter your form and was thanking the gods for being able to bear witness to this sight to confirm it.

His imagination was running wild from this imagery, though. It’s almost like you’re married and this is a late night baking session in your own private home.

Sanji violently shook his head. This train of thought was going places that it absolutely shouldn’t be!

The necessary ingredients were placed on the counter and he risked a glance in your direction. You were currently pulling on an apron over your head and tying it behind your back with a practiced ease. 

Considering how flustered he was from his earlier thoughts, he kept his words to you concise and to the point. He didn’t trust himself not to say something stupid if he started rambling, so once you two decided who was doing what, you fell into a comfortable silence.

Sanji had taken it upon himself to beat the egg whites and sugar into a meringue while you mixed together the rest of the wet ingredients. Quiet humming fills the kitchen, an endearing trait of yours that he felt blessed to have become so familiar with. Tonight’s tune was a melody he didn’t recognize. Whether it was a song from your past or something you made up on the spot was beyond him, but he didn’t care, he simply enjoyed it.

After finishing the meringue, he divided it up. Half into your mixture, while the other half remained in his bowl to be combined with the dry ingredients and oil. Sanji let you take care of bringing the batter together while he prepped the cake pan.

The cake was in the oven not long after that, leaving the two of you to prep the whipped cream frosting and strawberries while you wait. In the time it took Sanji to whip the frosting into shape, you had finished cutting the strawberries that go in between layers. You eyed the remaining ones, debating what to do with them.

“Do you know how to cut them into roses?” Sanji crept behind you, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Nope, can’t say I do.” You looked at him over your shoulder with a smile, “I don’t suppose you’d want to show me, would you?”

Ah, so you knew where he was going with that. If he had a bit more shame, he’d be embarrassed at how predictable he was. Luckily for him in this moment, he didn’t. He swallowed an imaginary lump in his throat and went for it.

“I would love to,” he answered quickly. Closing the already small gap between you, he was pressed up against your back. His arms went around you, with his hands resting over your own to guide you.

This was a bold move, he’d admit it (to himself only), but it was worth the risk. It wasn’t every day that he got to be so close to you, so he was taking in and treasuring every aspect of it. From being able to feel your softness first hand to his senses being flooded with the smell of your shampoo, all of it was intoxicating. If not a little nose-bleed inducing, but that was neither here nor there.

Oh wait, the strawberries.

He positioned your hand to lightly cut at the sides of the fruit, “It’s simple, really, I know you’ll pick it up quickly. All you do is make a thin slice and gently peel it back. Then you rotate and repeat this until you’ve run out of room and go up.” Sanji kept guiding your hand for the entire strawberry, even though he knew you were skilled enough to have picked it up after the first or second example.

Fortunately, you indulged him and patiently waited for his hands to retreat on their own before trying it for yourself. As expected, the next one came out perfectly. You admired your handiwork before holding it up to Sanji, “What do you think, did I do this right?” 

You really didn’t need to ask. It was clear for anyone to see that you had nailed it, and he was sure that you knew that. Yet you’d asked for his opinion anyways. He was going to wax poetic about how this was the most expertly crafted strawberry rose he’d ever seen, but was distracted when he picked up on how hard you were staring at him. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he asked you what was wrong.

Rather than answer, you reach out to him with your empty hand and use your thumb to wipe some frosting off his chin. Then, nonchalantly, you brought the same thumb to your mouth to sample the errant bit of frosting. You hummed and nodded, “This frosting is great, though it looks like you may have been stirring a little too vigorously over there.” You lightly elbowed his side as you teased him.

Sanji hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, blood gushing out of his nose like a faucet on full blast. You were going to be the death of him, and he meant that in the best way possible. 

If he died by your sweet touch, then he would go out a happy man.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Slowly but surely replying to older asks. I say it every time but I mean it: thank you for being patient.

One ask about Shroudcest and one ask about Rookvil today!

Anonymous asked:

Imagine imagine imagine.

Cause this is funny to me.

Someone's flirting with Idia, yeah? (or just talking to him, not even flirting) (well, I guess it'd be a one sided conversation....)

And Ortho was off doing whatever and he comes back and he notices-

And he gets all angry and whatnot-

And Ortho's got instant connections to the internet-

And he figures out who the person is and basically destroys their social life.

Like, in the middle of this conversation, this person checks their phone and finds out all their friends have ditched them and their entire online life is up in flames.

Simply because Ortho got a little jealous.

Anon, this is so unbelievably easy to imagine lol Despite Ortho really wanting his precious Idia to have more friends and connections, he is much more jealous than he thought! And much more of a little shit than people think… We really love this kind of scenario for them, to be honest.

Ortho is way too powerful for how emotionally unstable he is! Rogue little yandere robot :( His niisan is his and his only! That poor guy probably just wanted to talk about homework or something trivial like that…

Anonymous asked:

the rook hate be crazy, sorry for the nonsense you’ve been dealing with for doing nothing wrong. anyway rookvil appreciation hours. rook is so observant and reverent that he’s always looking out for his queen and vil is just a bit tsun lol but i love how vulnerable vil is with rook. like the lines implying vil has cried in front of rook before, that they sleep in the same bed, rook knows vil’s family situation, vil commenting on rook’s thighs in beanfest implicitly meaning he spends a lot of time looking at them lol, rook has access to vil’s room and waits for vil… as much as i love savanaclaw rook and mourn his loss everyday, he willingly changed himself to be worthy of being by vil’s side via his own free will; vil did not MAKE him do anything they just talked a lot. my mans is more whipped than heavy cream. idk about you but rook mentions he struggled to feel or express emotions before he knew about theater (specifically neige but let’s ignore that for vil’s sanity lol) so it feels significant that rook obviously feels and emotes so strongly over vil (also something something ortho struggles to feel or express himself before movies and acting so what i’m getting at here is they should spitroast vil at least once lmao.) if it was revealed they’re canonically dating the only part i’d be surprised about is that it got through disney’s censors.

It’s okay, Anon. The whole thing kind of made us appreciate Rook and RookVil more, to be honest lol I sketched them for a couple of days nonstop after that whole thing happened.

It also made you write this ask! It took me some time to reply, but every time I was rereading it I smiled because god this is such a good ship. Everything that you’ve listed is just so… wonderful. All those interactions, all this connection, all those moments that imply their closeness that is on a much deeper level than we get to see. Sometimes when these two talk, it feels like we’re eavesdropping lol they just have this vibe to them, as if every dialogue has some additional context that we don’t quite get.

Vil’s comment about Rook’s thighs and him bulking up though lol poor Epel didn’t know what to make of it and probably didn’t want to think about it…

You’ve made such a good point about Vil being more vulnerable with Rook, and I think this vulnerability is very important. Vil feels like someone who probably doesn’t usually allow people to get very close to him, but once he lowers his guard for someone, that person becomes very special to him. Or I guess it’s the other way around… anyways, he trusts Rook enough to always have him by his side, and he probably vents his frustrations with the industry and anything else that troubles him to Rook the most.

And this trust isn’t one-sided: I feel like Rook trusts Vil a lot too. We know that he has a lot of secrets, and even Vil probably doesn’t know a whole lot about his upbringing and stuff, but he certainly knows more than other people + listens carefully enough to understand implications without prying into it too much. They give each other enough space in general, I guess? I know it sounds funny considering Rook’s whole stalking thing but lol their connection is special. They learn from each other and from what they have together.

It makes sense that one person that Vil trusts so much and loves so much is a weird theater nerd who doesn’t quite understand tact, but is very honest, supportive and genuinely passionate and loving. It makes sense that one person that Rook trusts so much and loves so much is an obsessive perfectionist that takes care of him, enables him and inspires him every day. Both of them are kind of insufferable, but they are the perfect type of “insufferable” to each other lol And yeah, let’s not forget about the power of knowing all the obscure theater/film references the other one makes!

I also absolutely agree that it wouldn’t be surprising at all if it was confirmed that they are dating lol The only surprising thing really would be the fact that Disney allowed it.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

a modern au aegond on whatever you feel like writing plss

modern AU Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader + Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader.

A/N - I’m just writing a modern!University AU on what they’d be like in a relationship.

Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aegon was skeptical about you initially, especially your feelings and attitude towards him, he really struggled to figure you out.

You both shared various classes together, although never really spoke to one another unless necessary for instance for group projects or class discussions.

This time was different however, this time it was a little more 1 on 1. You both had been paired for an assignment, and to be frank, you weren’t initially that keen.

Aegon had a notorious reputation around campus, and it was not one you’d much rather associate yourself with.

He was wildly known for being a troublemaker amongst both students and staff alike, from time to time being absent from classes, often you heard it was because he was too “hungover” to wake up.

And with the girls, he was known to be a major fuck boy. He’d often manipulate and seduce girls to bed with them, only to leave them hanging the next day. No call, no consideration, just complete ignorance.

You urged Aegon that you’d only meet up to work together in public places & most of the time it was the library. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t try anything in a place like this, but you were so wrong.

Aegon began his take on you, you could see right through his facade. Each time his attempts to “flirt” would fail, he’d get even more frustrated with you.

He’d make degrading comments, often as a “joke” he would rationalise.

“God Y/N, you’re such a bitch.” “Are you always this fucking stiff?” “Why don’t you let me loosen you up, beautiful, aye?”

That was the tipping point, as Aegon’s hand began sliding up your thigh, making the comment, you shoved him off viciously, as you began your rant.

In the heat of the moment you went on a tangent; although to sum it up. “How fucking pathetic are you, Aegon?! It’s beyond me how you’ve convinced yourself that you could ever be deserving of someone like me. You, you being the scum of the Earth, Aegon, I’d rather drop dead right here and now, than spend another fucking minute with you. You disgust me, and don’t you ever fucking touch me again, you fucking asshole.”

The last thing you remember was the shock & stoic face of Aegon, as you grabbed your belongings before storming off. You’d never felt so heated in your life.

At this point, no progress was made from Aegon’s side of the assignment & after the confrontation, you couldn’t stand the thought of seeing Aegon again. You’d arranged to discreetly spoken with the professor in charge, who reluctantly accepted your desire to split from Aegon and complete the assignment alone, after hearing that Aegon was lacking.

You wouldn’t have disclosed this decision to Aegon before hand. Although, once he’d found out he definitely took it to heart.

He didn’t realise how much his behaviour and attitude had rubbed you off the wrong way. You would be his waking up call.

Aegon would text you and occasionally try to call you. You’d ignore his attempts.

This pushed him to having to confront you face to face, which when he did he was actually quite anxious to do.

“Y/N please, I know I don’t deserve your time and day, believe me. I just need you to hear this.”

“Aegon, I have class, I-” As you tried to continue on your walk, you felt a tug on your arm, pulling you back into his gaze.

“I’m just really really sorry, Y/N. Whether you accept it or not is entirely up to you, but I couldn’t sleep, can’t think straight if I don’t apologise. Everything you said, i-it’s true. This feeling, this guilt, I’ve never felt this before. I really didn’t mean the things I said, I just say them because well I guess I just could.”

You hadn’t accepted his apology there and then. Although you could see the remorse on Aegon’s face. The guilt was really eating him up.

For the course of the next few days, you’d say hello, warming up to him which he appreciated, having some surprise on his face when you acknowledged him and a half hearted smile.

Aegon took the initiation to better himself. He distanced himself from his “friends” and even completed the assignment himself. He showed up to his classes, even the ones that “bore” him.

He began to have conversations with you, asking how you were and how your day was. And naturally overtime, you began to warm up to him. He took a keen interest in you.

He’d definitely spoil you with small things & remember key dates.

Eventually, you began to spare time with Aegon, showed up to social events with him. Your friends were skeptical of him at first, although overtime, he won them over also.

You supported Aegon with his studies as from time to time he struggled.

He was the first one to say “I love you” and he was extremely cautious with you the first time you were intimate. Although you assured him this time, it was different.

Aegon would definitely spoil you, taking you to the finest bars, restaurants that he’d been well accustomed to.

You guys would go on dates every weekend, just travel. Wherever you go, he goes.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Aemond would definitely be your rival in class, your competition. He didn’t know this, although in your mind, you’d have the goal to beat him in an exam or an assignment.

He was just as smart and competitive as you, he took pride in his work.

He wasn’t widely known across campus, although most people were intimidated by him. And to some degree, you yourself was also found him fearsome.

He didn’t really have many close friends, just a few acquaintances here and there.

He rarely was seen taking extracurricular activities unless it was some sort of sport, I could see him taking a combat sport as a hobby, which made him seem even more dangerous.

Often you found him isolated in a corner in the University library, immersed in a novel.

He would always notice you, although neither of you made the effort to exchange words.

Until one day, a novel you’d heard so much about that you were desperate to read was no where to be found.

“I swear it was available.” You asked the librarian whom was checking to see the book’s availability.

“I’m afraid it seems someone’s already borrowed the book, perhaps you can ask them to borrow it after they’ve finished.”

“Well, whom currently has it?”

“Aemond.”

Fuck, you thought.

You’d contemplated buying the book externally, although these novels and textbooks nowadays cost an arm and leg. Besides, it wasn’t a terrible thing to ask for something, it’s not like it was his to keep, right?

You’d been planning all day the right time to ask Aemond, seeking him out.

When the moment came, you’d blurted out his name, from across the empty hall, and instantly he turned. To some degree, you could sense he was surprised, and began walking over towards you slowly. You could feel the courage you’d built up during the day rapidly fade, and you were stumbling at your words.

“Yes, Y/N.”

He knew your name. We’ll of course he did, you had classes together, you’d mentally registered.

“I-I was wondering if after you’re done with reading that book,” you gestured, “I could borrow it after, if that’s okay.”

A small smile appeared on his face, and he began to nod his head.

“I have a better idea, why don’t we meet in the library and read it together, perhaps we can even discuss about it.”

You were taken back. Although he left you there, without even having your approval. It seemed it was more of an order than a request.

As if your body and mind had been taken over, immediately you rushed to the library after class, waiting for him in the usual spot you’d find Aemond.

He found that quite sweet, the small things he’d noticed you did. Overtime, you guys became quite open and close, discovering things about each other, that you’d never thought or realised.

Aemond was the opposite of what you’d envisioned in your mind, he actually cared, or essentially he cared about you.

He’d disclosed things he’d noticed about you that you didn’t realise… He was watching you.

“I was always curious about you, Y/N. Just never thought the interest would be mutual.”

He would recommend you his favourite novels, and would passionately discuss them with you after having read them.

He loved the stimulating conversations you’d share, he found you so intriguing.

He would start to show his affection naturally. Putting his arm around you as you walked around campus, and after introducing your friends to him, they immediately warmed up to him.

He’d definitely give you his jackets or share his coat with you, as you both read.

You’d lay on his chest.

The more you become comfortable with Aemond, he becomes comfortable with you. That’s his way of showing how he trusts you.

He’s always chilling at your dorm more than his own.

Coffee dates becomes a tradition for you both.

[changenameno]

It’s been a long time…PART 1

(Complete, link to the second part down below ⬇️)

 Summary: Gus March-Phillips was gone for about four years. Leaving behind the one woman that he loves. He’s hoping against all hope that you’ve waited for him. Becoming more and more anxious as they pull into the harbour and you’re nowhere in sight… Did you grow tired of waiting? Have you found another in his absence?

Pairing: Gus March-Phillips x Fem. Reader

Warnings: cursing apart none whatsoever, just angsty yearning buut with a fluffy ending (smut/physical reunion in the second part, though Can Be Read As A Stand Alone)

Word count: 2.1K

A/N: Okay, guess who’s finally watched the movie yesterday? And loved every second of it?!!

As I’m always writing while listing to music, one song in particular inspired this (= One More Pull by The Wellermen, The Longest Johns!) Any mistakes are my own. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you! Hope you’ll enjoy…❤️✨

 

! Neither the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare nor the OC’s like Gus are my creation. The parts of lyrics I worked into my story aren’t mine either!

 🌊 🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

PART 1

 

A cold drizzle had started. Still he stood unmoving outside on deck, trying to look beyond the darkness. Trying to make out the harbour that would surely come into view any time now.

“Captain why don’t you come back in? Where it’s warm?”

Lassen’s booming voice mocked, “Pretty sure he’s got his eyes fixed on something special, am I right?”

Gus turned, not nearly as amused as he’d normally be at their banter. “Shut up. Go back inside.”

“Uh oh, sore spot? You’d think you’ve fallen…” Lassen’s mouth closed, upon seeing the angry, stormy Blues fixed on his face. He immediately knew he’d gone too far, trying to lighten the mood this way had not been one of his best ideas apparently.

“Just go back inside.”

At last Freddy and Lassen went inside, letting him be.

Usually he could take quip after quip from his men, without so much as pulling a face, but today wasn’t just any day. It was a day he’d promised you, would come way earlier than it did.

He’d assured you, he would only be gone for eight month. However that wasn’t the case, as their mission had been more complicated than they originally thought.

Now it’s been nearly four years, since he’d made that promise.

Growing anxious as more and more time went by, without hearing back from you. Gus and you had written a lot of letters, back and forth, yearning for each other. Telling the other of your day, sometimes even going as far as describing what you’d do once he’d be back.

Though his letters had become quite apologetic after ten long month, when there still wasn’t an end in sight for the mission.

After the third year, not being able to return to you, your letters had stopped altogether.

Making him sick with worry. Had something happened to you? Where you discovered? Tortured for information on him?

Or something else entirely…Had you found someone else? Someone who’d stay by your side? Someone that wouldn’t leave you alone for four years? Someone that wasn’t him?

Every time, those thoughts surfaced (which were often), he’d felt like Freddy. Just a burning desire to blow something up. Or to shoot whoever was responsible for the sudden stop of your writing.

Though he didn’t cease writing letters. They even got rather poetic at the end, because he was trying to impress you, wanting to let you know how much you mean to him. He simply couldn’t lose the only woman, he had ever loved. He will ever love.

 

The last one he’d written, was the one where he poured in everything he felt. The frustration at your silence. The hope you’d wait for him. The desperation. The deep, honest love he held for you… even the despair he’d felt for being away for so long. But now he finally headed home, to you. After all, you were his home.

 

This last letter of his, read something along the lines of:

 

// Dearheart,

I know I’ve promised to be back a long time ago. And I haven’t.

Regretting every second I’m not by your side. Though my love for you continues to grow stronger every day. My love for you, is both as calming as a sunny day near shore and as wracking as being in the middle of a storm on the high sea. Wave after wave of regret washing over me, threatening to drown me, because I’ve left you behind.

The despair I feel for having been away for so long, is shattering my heart, like a hammer would glass. Every splinter feels like it’s painfully piercing through my chest. More so, since you’ve been silent, every letter not returned, is a shard of my heart crumbling even further.

Now that I finally return to you, everything that’s left of my heart, may be just a fine powder. And like the untamed sea, you decide where to take the leftovers of said heart.

Will you drown the fragments like they haven’t been anything of value? Or will you carefully carry the particles of my heart through the storm, until they reach safe harbour?

For now the hope I feel is still somewhat able to sustain me. I know expecting you to wait, is not fair. That’s why I’m hoping. Because hope is the one thing that’s left, keeping my naïve heart beating, longing for you.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Will you be waiting when we dock in three days’ time, my love? Because soon we’ll draw closer and my journey will be done.

Yours to command, yours to love…

Gus //

 

 

Never before had he written anything like that, it was very unlike him. But he’d also never felt for someone like that before either, so he’d sent the letter. Again getting no answer.

 

Gus thought he was the most anxious when your letters had stopped, but right now as their ship approached harbour, his mind was beyond restless. The unease and dread he’d pushed down for months, creeping up just then, though making him stay frozen to the spot as his gaze was fixed on the lights that slowly came into view. Just when he thought he couldn’t take not knowing anymore, a huge paw landed on his shoulder.

“Here,” Lassen held out a spyglass, nodding at him to take it. In fact not just he had come out, his whole crew stood behind him, as if they were cheering for him.

Appleyard smirked; “Go on then, you surely can’t see without that.”

Gus shook his head, smiling though, he knew his men had his back no matter what. He took one deep breath then lifted the monocular to his eye.

Darkness, then he moved it back and forth until one of the houses on shore came into focus. From there he moved it until he saw a few smaller boats and then further to the right where he knew they’d dock. Where he hoped you’d wait.

There was nothing there, just three men sitting by the sea, probably drunk if their swaying was anything to go by. Not wanting to give up just yet, Gus moved the spyglass up, up, up, over the rooftops of the small town. Even further up into the mountains, where he knew your house sat, a little above the treeline. It seemed just as deserted as the dock, no lights, no nothing that’d point to the fact that you were awake or that’d you’d been waiting.

After one last desperate and frantic search of the harbour, he lowered his arms. You were nowhere to be found.

When he turned, all his men stared at him expectantly, which was the last straw, making him more furious than he’d thought possible. With an unnecessary violent shove, he barrelled the spyglass into Lassen’s chest with the words, “Not here.”

Bumping into Hayes, on his way inside the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him. His crew remained outside, unsure how to proceed. Gus grimaced. What had he been thinking? Why would someone like you, wait for someone like him? He was no prince, hell he wasn’t even a catch, so to speak. Angrily pacing up and down.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he flung the door open again, growling, “What are you waiting for?! We are leaving!”

Bewildered at his aggressive outburst, Freddy carefully phrased his next sentence, “But…it’s dark. Maybe…”, he didn’t get to finish, as Gus seethed nearly screaming, “We are leaving! Now!” And with another slam, he disappeared back inside the cabin.

 

Gus tried to calm down. Closing his burning eyes, concentrating on his breathing and the footfalls of his men, getting the ship ready to turn around. Heart thumbing unnaturally fast within his ribcage. Forehead leaned against the door, then he heard it.

“Fuck. No WAIT!!”

He straightened, it couldn’t be? He strained to listen again, certain his mind was playing tricks on him. But that sweet voice? He didn’t have to wait long, when a second much louder curse could be heard.

“Arrrg you fucking ASSHOLE!!! WAIT!!! OI don’t you DARE LEAVE!! FUCKING STOP!”

Gus couldn’t help but grin, as he threw the door open.

He was greeted by Lassen’s smirk, “I think there’s something you might wanna see captain.”

Everybody stood by the railing, looking down into the water. He quickly made his way over, as well.

And there you were, seated in a tiny rowing boat all by yourself, angrily screaming up at him, shaking your fist.

“There you are. You SON OF A…”

All the happiness within was suddenly trying to bubble to the surface, seeing you down there. Not only had you waited, you rowed out onto the sea, alone, at night, to get to him faster.

He swiftly interrupted your rant, “Is that a way to greet your captain? Hey there, love. I’ve missed you, too.”

For a second you were too stunned to continue screaming. Then his deep timbre sounded again, “Well what are you waiting for, hoist the boat up, boys!”

This time around they gladly followed their captain’s orders immediately. Throwing ropes down, that you knotted around your small boat, so they could pull you up and swing you on board.

As soon as your feet touched the wooden blanks of his ship, you whirled around to glare at Gus, leaning against the railing. Sure you were beyond happy that he was back, but you were also furious that he had you waiting, for four fucking years. So you stormed over to where he stood, clearly expecting a hug, because his sturdy arms were already reaching for you.

Though instead, you began attacking him with your firsts, repeatedly punching his chest. Getting out all the despair, pain and agony you’ve stored inside you, all these years. And he let you, not moving an inch, even though it hurt. A lot.

You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face, that just added to the cold drizzle still coming down. After a few minutes placing hit after hit, you suddenly felt so exhausted, you simply slumped against him.

Then he put his arms around your shaking body, at last.

Embracing you as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. You buried your face deeper into his chest, arms around his midsection, drawing him even closer.

One of his hands reached for your chin, tipping it upwards, so he could look at your face. His calloused thumb swiped over the soft skin of your cheek, wiping away the stray tears.

You couldn’t look away, you’ve never seen so many emotions swim in his Sapphires. If you weren’t mistaken, they even glistened with unshed tears, when he murmured, “I’ve truly missed you, dearheart.”

“And I you, so much. Just promise to never leave again. I couldn’t take that…”

His loving gaze roamed your face, “Never, I promise.” Then he leaned down, sealing his promise with a kiss. Your lips felt like heaven. Sweet and soft, moving in perfect harmony with his.

Unconsciously you softly hummed, making him smile against your lips. This in turn made you giggle, because his beard had tickled you.

“I love you.”

You replied, slightly biting you lip, “I love you, too.”

 

You two had been so caught up in each other, you had completely forgotten the others, surrounding you, until, “Aaargh, get a room…disgusting display of affection…”

Your head whipped around, looking at the biggest smirk on Lassen’s face as his voice had held no real bite. Gus only laughed in turn.

“Let’s get you inside. You must be freezing. And we still have to dock, don’t we boy’s?”

There was shuffling again, as they prepared the ship to take harbour. You weren’t really paying attention, you only had eyes for the handsome man that still embraced you tightly.

PART 2

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

 

Taglist:

If you're interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[plutoccult]

HAIKYUU X THE OFFICE AU — EPISODE FOUR: OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY

pairing: sugawara koushi x female reader

description: it’s the holidays, and that means it’s time for the annual office christmas party where everyone participates in secret santa. much to sugawara’s delight, he has picked your name for secret santa this year and plans to make it count.

word count: 5.6k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: hello and happy holidays! i will admit i’ve been struggling to stay motivated with this series, but i have to remind myself that i’m mainly writing this for MY enjoyment at the end of the day. i’m the ultimate sugawara warrior and it shall stay that way. anyway, it’s christmastime, so of course i’m writing a christmas episode! i strayed away from parts of the episode quite a bit. this definitely has more focus on sugawara than the reader this time around, but i’m not mad about it. it’s nice to see an angsty, pining suga 🤭 i almost thought this would have to be split into two parts, but i’d rather keep it as one. i also made a playlist for sugawara and the reader a good bit ago, so here’s the link here (i am very much open to song suggestions)! i’m so excited to get closer to my favorite episode ever, and i hope you guys enjoy!

tags: @toorubobatea @cowgirlikets @dragon-slayer5 (ily ty for hyping me up) @femme-lune @kazuchaos @bakagun1312 @beingbrokenfitsus @mumblepingu @daedaep69 @darthferbert @intheewrld @msbyomimi @sukxma @akari-fujikawa

taglist form here

christmas was always the best time of year for the office. the holiday spirit was at its peak, everyone loved being a part of it, especially your boss, ukai. he took christmas more seriously than everyone else, even kiyoko who primarily handled planning the annual office christmas party each year. ukai took it so seriously that he chopped his own tree and brought it to the office building, dragging tanaka along in his shenanigans towards festive greatness.

tanaka huffed and puffed as he let go of the bottom half of the tree, ukai holding the top half. “ukai, i don’t think it’s gonna fit.”

“that’s what she said.” ukai joked, resisting the urge to snicker. it was like he was a child in a grown man’s body. plus, that joke aged like milk. only he found it funny.

“no, like, it’s really not gonna fit.” tanaka said.

“again, that’s what she—”

“WE CAN’T FIT THE GODDAMN TREE THROUGH THE DOOR, UKAI!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, completely frustrated with his boss. you could hear tanaka from your desk inside the office, but it came out muffled, so you couldn’t quite make out what was being said. you assumed it was idiotic activities as always.

“i’ll make it fit.” ukai insisted, the spirit of christmas granting him all the determination he needed.

“lemme guess, you’re gonna say that’s what she said, right?” tanaka let out a sigh.

“don’t make me fire you, tanaka.” ukai threatened.

“should’ve just got a fake tree.” tanaka rolled his eyes. yeah, that definitely would’ve worked just fine, but this was ukai here. the man was crazy. he would never do anything the normal way.

“i guess that would’ve worked…” ukai said as he pondered over how he would get this tree through the door, quickly thinking of his idea of the best way to do it. “alright, on three, we’re gonna shove this through and hope for the best. got it?”

“i guess?” no. tanaka didn’t get it, but he had no choice.

“too bad. one… two… THREE!”

with one big push, ukai and tanaka burst through the doors of the office. the tree toppled to the floor, bringing them along with it. the sound startled just about everyone, having been doing their typical duties. to you, it just felt like any other day, and you didn’t bother to help the two men.

tanaka fell face first into the pile of pine, aggressively coughing as he wiped any pine needles off his face. “i think i swallowed a pine needle.”

“well, merry fucking christmas.” ukai said enthusiastically. he seriously needed to be scolded over his cursing.

“ukai!”

•••

in the first time in, well, ever, suga was actually excited to be doing an interview for the documentary crew. why? because of this year’s secret santa.

“so this year, for the first time ever, i got finally y/n for secret santa. i’m pretty excited about it, and i really wanted to do something special for her, so i got her this teapot. as much coffee as she drinks here, y/n is way more of a tea person—i would know—so with this she can make tea at her desk.” suga said excitedly, showing off your gift for the camera.

“but i also stuffed it with some inside jokes, that’s what makes it so special, you know.” he continued, carefully digging through the teapot to show off said inside jokes. “like, this is my high school volleyball photo. she saw it fall out of my wallet on my first day here, and it really made her laugh. not sure why, but i’m letting her have it now.”

with the biggest grin on his face, suga dug through the teapot for more, pulling out a wasabi packet, but it wasn’t just any ordinary packet of wasabi. this had a story behind it, one that had meaning for suga.

“ooh. this is a wasabi packet. she put this on a hot dog a couple years ago because she thought it was relish.” he explained. “i thought it was really funny, so i kept the other two.”

after telling the wasabi story, suga held up a mini toy of a chili pepper with a kawaii face, but made a squeaking noise when someone squished it. poor sound guy jumped when it almost blasted his eardrums.

“this is actually a toy for dogs or babies or something, i don’t know.” suga shrugged. “but i saw it, it was cute, and it reminded me of awards night, so i thought; why not?”

but the most important gift of all—one that outsold everything in that teapot—was a card suga wrote just for you, detailing his feelings towards you all on paper. “and then, uh, this is a special card i wrote for y/n… because christmas is the time to tell people how you feel.”

oh, the documentary crew was going to eat this up.

•••

kiyoko and yachi were put up with the task of decorating for the party, forcing many of their coworkers to partake. they also had to deal with ukai’s hack job of a christmas tree. the two girls tried their best to salvage it, throwing as many ornaments and tinsel on it as possible, but it was a losing battle. it was just going to be an ugly tree, so they put the rest of their effort into decorating the conference room.

when it seemed like they were done with everything, kiyoko made her rounds, examining each decoration, but by the end, she wasn’t a fan. “i don’t like it.”

“you… don’t?” yachi questioned.

honestly, it was the perfect scene; red and green decorations perfectly put together, all strategically placed, but if kiyoko didn’t like it, then it simply meant that more work needed to be done.

“we need more lights.” kiyoko said. “i need someone tall.”

“count me out.” tsukishima, who sat down while drinking a soda, spoke up. he had been put through enough, he was tired of decorating.

“i wasn’t asking you, tsukki.” kiyoko rolled her eyes.

“only yamaguchi is allowed to call me that.” tsukishima said.

“whatever.” she scoffed. “uh, who’s super tall and buff…?”

kiyoko and yachi share a look. they instantly knew exactly who to find.

“asahi.” they say in unison.

not only were the two girls on the same page, they knew exactly how to rope asahi into this mess, and it was all up to yachi to get the job done. “asahi, help! i’m dying!”

“dying?! who’s dying?!” asahi bolted into the conference room, only to find no one was actually in trouble.

“i’m dying… for you to hang up these lights for us.” yachi said with a grin as she held up a roll of christmas lights.

he didn’t have much choice, so asahi let out a sigh before ultimately giving in. “okay…”

•••

“i found that asahi will do pretty much anything for me because he’s afraid i’ll be a scaredy cat around him again.” yachi spoke confidently to the camera while the party preparations were happening behind her. “he’d probably commit murder for me, who knows?”

asahi, who overheard her, yelled out in defense for himself. “that is NOT true!”

“keep hanging up those lights!” she yelled at asahi, who immediately went back to work, further solidifying her point. “see? he totally would. he’s the best.”

•••

right before the party was about to start, ukai exited his office dressed like santa. you immediately laugh and try to mask it with a cough, but ukai caught you anyways. “something funny, y/n?”

“yeah, you look ridiculous.” you snort, covering your mouth to muffle out your laughter.

“that’s the point. this party is supposed to be fun.” ukai said sassily. “i want everyone to let loose. i want this party to be reminiscent of my frat boy days.”

“you were in a frat? what was it called?” you ask him, intrigued to hear his answer.

“beta schmeta—” yeah, he wasn’t actually in a frat. “whatever. all i’m trying to say is i want everyone to get lit!”

you cringe at ukai’s use of outdated slang. “that is so seven years ago…”

“yeah, and i want it to happen anyway.” he said.

“your way of getting lit is drinking, and we’re not allowed to have liquor in the office, so...” you reply. you were always one to follow rules. well, for the most part, at least. it was hard to have any sort of structure at an office ran by someone like ukai.

“don’t… don’t remind me, dammit.” ukai cursed. “stupid corporate losers. like booze ever killed anybody.”

you always found your boss was painfully stupid at times, and this was definitely one of those times. but even so, you tried to combat it every time, always failing no matter what.

“but booze has killed—” you began to say.

“anyway!” he cut you off, tired of this conversation and ready to party. ukai then waved tanaka over to him so they could get the party started. “tanaka, let’s get this show on the road! announcement, everybody! listen to tanaka because he’s a better at yelling than me, as shown earlier when he yelled in my face!”

“yes, everybody listen up!” tanaka yelled out. “you better have your presents wrapped up and ready to go under the tree because we will not wait for you and you will be disqualified from secret santa! don’t be that guy! nobody likes to be that guy, so don’t be him!”

you let out a groan as you grab your present for secret santa from under your desk, eyeing the camera on your way to put it under the tree.

“please, don’t let this party suck ass.” you whisper to yourself. you hear tsukishima snicker behind you, an “ow!” soon following, assuming it was yamaguchi smacking him on the back of his head.

•••

“i love christmas. christmas is fun. it’s the best time of the year besides my birthday.” ukai said, still dressed like santa, knowing this would be seen on television one day. “why do i love christmas, you may ask? because i get free stuff, and who doesn’t love free stuff?”

•••

everyone gathered around the tree, placing their presents underneath. one could compare it to christmas morning with your family. some may argue that this office is like a family, while some may think otherwise, but regardless, it was nice for everyone to be together in harmony.

after daichi and tanaka argued over who would light up the tree—mainly because daichi didn’t trust him with outlets—tanaka was finally given the rein, or, well, extension cord.

“everybody ready?” he asked, a mix of nods and “uh-huh” in response.

“okay, and…” the tree is lit up, but it’s quite dim. “yikes.”

silence plagued the room. no one expected the lighting of the tree to be so anti-climatic, especially since the office makes such a big deal out of christmas every year. kiyoko practically wanted to die of embarrassment given she was responsible for the decorations, even if yachi was the one who brought in the lights from her apartment.

while no one said a word, you were the one to speak up, praising the tree for kiyoko and yachi’s sake. “well, i think the tree looks quite nice.”

“thanks, y/n, but you don’t have to lie.” yachi frowned.

“no, it’s a lovely tree.” ukai insisted. “let’s do secret santa now, okay? tanaka, pick who gets the first present.”

tanaka walked over to the tree and picked up a random present, reading who its intended for. “and it’s… tsukishima.”

“oh?” once handed the gift, tsukishima ripped away the wrapping paper to unveil a dinosaur plushie. much to everyone’s surprise, he was delighted by the gift. “aw, this is actually really nice.”

“oh, thank god.” nishinoya let out the biggest sigh of relief one could take. “that was from me.”

“wow, thanks, nishinoya.” tsukishima said with a smile. someone may as well pass out from shock now. christmas truly brought all types of miracles.

•••

“that is literally the nicest thing tsukishima will ever say to me!” nishinoya exclaimed. “i’m serious! i’ve officially peaked at life!”

•••

secret santa rolled along smoothly so far. suga ended up getting a card, which contained a twenty dollar bill inside, the limit for this year’s secret santa. kageyama claimed he didn’t know what to get, but suga wasn’t all too phased by it. who doesn’t like free money? besides, he was too eager for it to be your turn. luckily for him, it was happening right now.

“y/n, you’re next.” suga perked up once he heard your name, knowing your present would be from him.

you take the box from tanaka with a grin before opening up your gift. inside was the teapot suga spoke of to the documentary crew earlier, although you weren’t aware of its secret contents inside just yet, especially the card. you show off the teapot to your coworkers, and suga was notably the only one excited to see it in your hands. it made you wonder who your secret santa happened to be…

“wow, thank you very much, santa.” you say slyly. “whoever you are, you did good.”

“there’s a little more to it.” suga leaned over and said to you quietly.

oh. so your inkling of a suspicion was right, after all. now you were itching to see what was inside, but the office had to keep the show rolling, which completely distracted you from the anticipation.

“alright, next. asahi.” tanaka threw the present to asahi, which made ukai freak out.

“jesus, tanaka!” he yelled out. such a reaction instantly gave away that ukai was the one to get a gift for asahi. “easy, easy!”

moving on from ukai’s sudden outburst, asahi unwrapped his gift, shocked to see what was inside. “an ipad?”

yeah, ukai got asahi an ipad. asahi was just as shocked as everyone else, and he was the one to receive such a gift. clearly ukai felt he could bend the rules, but no one was happy about it, and it would surely be known soon enough.

“woah. wow. jeez. somebody really got carried away with the spirit of christmas...” ukai said, acting all nonchalant before he revealed himself as asahi’s secret santa, but everyone figures it out anyway. “that was me, i got a little carried away.”

“i don’t even know what to do with this…” asahi said to himself.

“ukai, you got way more than carried away.” you scolded your boss. “you spent god knows what on that thing! we had a limit!”

“okay, well, who cares?” ukai shrugged. “it doesn't matter what i spent. what matters is that christmas is fun, right?”

“it’s kind of unfair.” you cross your arms, but ukai could care less about your irritation, although everyone else was in agreement with you.

“whatever.” he rolled his eyes. “who’s next?”

“you are, ukai.” tanaka said.

“i am? great.” ukai was handed a small bag, opening it up and finding mittens inside, which he wasn’t happy about whatsoever. “really?”

“i knitted them myself…” yachi said shyly. she knew she should’ve knitted a scarf instead.

“mittens? pft, okay.” ukai then proceeded to walk out, confusing everyone.

“uh… did he just leave?”

•••

“these mittens? pathetic. i gave asahi an ipad for christ’s sake. i spent my hard earned money while yachi just did some fucking knitting.” ukai complained, unbothered by his cursing for the umpteenth time. “censor me, i don’t care!”

•••

left to their own devices, the employees of japan pulp and paper weren’t sure if they should continue secret santa without their boss. thankfully, ukai returned with a solution, although not a great one.

“i got it!” he burst through the office doors as if nothing happened. “we are going to turn secret santa into yankee swap.”

“what’s yankee swap?” suga questioned.

“one person chooses a gift, then the next person can either choose a gift or steal that person's gift. if your gift gets stolen, then you can steal somebody else's gift or choose a new gift.” ukai explained. it was confusing coming out of his mouth, but you were just going to roll with it anyway.

“yuck, why are we doing this?” tsukishima questioned, wanting absolutely no parts of ukai’s typical nonsense.

“because it's better, more special.” ukai replied. “duh.”

tsukishima wasn’t the only one who didn’t like this idea. kiyoko was practically fuming about it, especially since it spawned from ukai’s strong dislike towards yachi’s gift. “it’s mean, ukai. that’s what it is.”

“it’s not mean.” he said. kiyoko couldn’t believe how much of an ass he was being right now.

“yes, it is.” she argued. “you’re only doing this because you hate your present and you’re bitter yachi didn’t ball out for you like you did for asahi, which no one asked you to do, by the way.”

“no, it’s not.” ukai argued back. “just give it a shot.”

“i’d rather not, actually. i’ll be taking my present, which is…” kiyoko picked up a card with her name on it and opened it up. “a gift card for coffee. thanks, takeda. and whoever doesn’t want any part of this nonsense can take their gifts and hang with me in the conference room. yachi and i made sugar cookies and they’re very delicious.”

as kiyoko and yachi went to the conference for some real fun, suga followed, much to ukai’s surprise, including yours, although your boss was more vocal about it. “really, suga?”

“yeah, you guys have fun.” suga said before disappearing into the conference room.

“i’m coming too.” tsukishima stood up, clutching onto his new plushie. he couldn’t believe he and suga were on the same page for once. “for the sugar cookies, obviously.”

“yeah, okay.” suga snickered. well, not totally on the same page.

“shut up, sugawara.” tsukishima scoffed before dragging yamaguchi with him to the conference room.

as you watched suga leave with the others, part of you felt guilty. you wanted to follow him, but at the same time, you didn’t want to seem like a little puppy dog following its owner. besides, you were itching to get that ipad too. the teapot is just a teapot, right? you didn’t think there could be anything that special about it, but you couldn’t be more wrong right now.

•••

“why didn’t you opt out of yankee swap?” one of the crew members asked you, stirring the pot—or teapot—for the sake of the drama with suga.

“i don’t know. i thought it’d be fun.” you lie with a little shrug before revealing the whole truth. “plus, i kind of want to get the ipad. i can binge watch my shows with it while ryo hogs up the tv.”

this was totally ruining the crew’s spicy plans right now.

•••

while ukai’s yankee swap commenced, suga obsessively watched the events unravel from the conference room. he didn’t even try one of kiyoko and yachi’s sugar cookies yet. the man was a mess, hoping and praying that teapot wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. it was meant for you and only you, why would you chance giving it up? suga knew it had to be the ipad. he never hated ukai more than he did right now for buying that stupid thing.

the others sat around quietly playing christmas music, snacking on cookies and chatting in the midst of suga’s lovelorn crisis. kiyoko decided to go talk to him and figure out what was up with him, but she had to do a bit of warming up first.

“hey, suga.” she said, forcing him out of his trance. “who did you get for secret santa?”

“oh, um, i got y/n.” suga replied.

to be honest, kiyoko was shocked that suga was capable was picking out something so sweet, but then again, this was suga. of course he would do that. “aw, cute. i really like that teapot.”

“i put little inside jokes inside the teapot.” he added. “plus, um, a really personal card.”

“saying…?” she raised an eyebrow.

“nothing. it’s not important.” suga shook his head. such a terrible lie.

“i think it is, sugawara.” kiyoko said.

suga hated how kiyoko was catching up to him. why did he have to mention that the card was really personal? it was more than just personal, the poor sap poured his feelings out to you in that card. he read it over a dozen times, making sure there were no spelling or grammar mistakes whatsoever. his brain felt like mush by the time he felt the card had reached its best version. this gift had to be perfect, but it never stood a chance at being that way, it seemed.

he had to get the attention off his back before kiyoko fully got the picture of the gift’s important, and thankfully, he knew exactly where to push her buttons. as suga once said, manipulation at its finest.

“shouldn’t you be worried about tanaka giving up the gift you got him?” he questioned. yeah, he heard a little bit from the grapevine about that.

“how did you know?” kiyoko gasped. she knew someone had to snitch. “yachi, was it you?!”

“no, never!” yachi exclaimed.

“actually, daichi told me.” suga smirked.

“that bitch.” kiyoko cursed. it was one more reason to want to slap the shit out of daichi. “whatever. i don’t care what he does with my gift anyway…”

suga let out a chuckle knowing kiyoko was playing off her crush on tanaka—one that was much more innocent than how he felt about you, an engaged woman—but his laughter quickly faded when he looked back at what was going on outside. “oh no.”

“oh no, what?” kiyoko questioned.

“hinata has the teapot.” suga replied. he then let out a loud groan, one that caught the attention of tsukishima who was trying to figure out why suga was acting more of a weirdo than usual.

“oh god, he’ll break it.” yachi said with a quiet gasp.

“i can’t watch.” suga turned away, covering his face with his hands. this was too painful for him to bear.

“y/n took the ipad.” kiyoko spoke up. as if hearing that made this any better.

“please don’t commentate like it’s a football game, kiyoko.” suga whined.

“sorry…”

tsukishima furrowed his eyebrows as he watched suga wail in agony, then gave a look to the camera. he had a weird feeling about this.

•••

“i’m just going to throw a theory out there.” tsukishima said plainly. “you don’t have to say anything, but i can read your faces. sugawara has feelings for y/n, doesn’t he?”

the documentary crew was unsure how to respond, but tsukishima guessed it right instantly. they knew, one by one, slowly but surely, the whole office would figure it out.

“that’s what i thought.”

•••

yankee swap continued, and it only got worse from there. your teapot was passed around like a hot potato, and it was torturous for suga to watch it all unfold. the sparkling cider kiyoko brought just wasn’t sparkling enough for him to dull this soul-sucking ache in his heart.

“i have to get that teapot back.” suga said. “if y/n doesn’t want it, then no one else should have it…”

it’s true. not even because of the card, but because it was specifically catered for you. outside it was just a teapot, but inside was a plethora of memories from your years of friendship. suga may be hopelessly in love with you, but your friendship meant the world to him at the end of the day.

“that’s…” yamaguchi paused. there was only one way to describe this. “really depressing.”

“it’s cause he has feelings for her.” tsukishima blurted out. everyone turned and looked at him in shock. did he really just say that right now?

“do not!” suga protested.

this was suga’s worst nightmare. was it always obvious? did anyone else know? did you know already? the questions swirled in his head a mile a minute. he was absolutely freaking out. from you giving up the teapot to this fiasco, the holidays simply couldn’t get any worse for suga. he just couldn’t catch a break, it seemed.

“ha, you so do! i figured you out, sugawara. you’re in love with y/n.” tsukishima smirked, almost finding joy in his suffering. actually, he found joy in everyone’s suffering, so this wasn’t much different, but since it was suga, he found it much more thrilling.

“what do you want? money?” suga asked desperately. it was the only solution he could think of so this secret wouldn’t spill anywhere else.

and since he mentioned it, tsukishima wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. “yeah, gimme that twenty kageyama gave you.”

“suga, wait.” kiyoko stopped him. “do you really have feelings for y/n?”

ignoring her question, suga quickly handed the money to tsukishima. kiyoko couldn’t believe it. he really did have feelings for you, and now everyone in the room knew it. “oh my god…”

“this secret doesn’t leave this room.” suga demanded. he bought tsukishima’s silence, but luckily for him, everyone else didn’t need to be convinced with money. at least he hoped so...

now that he got that out of the way, suga checked in to see what was going on at the party, and it seemed like yankee swap had ended. worst of all, your teapot was nowhere in his sight. “wait, they’re dispersing. why are they dispersing?”

“ukai probably did something stupid and ruined the party even more.” tsukishima scoffed.

“who has the teapot? who has it?!” suga asked frantically like a madman.

“i think i see tanaka with it.” yachi said, pointing to him with what seemed like the teapot in his possession. it was worse than hinata having it, honestly, and suga needed it back now.

“NO!”

suga bolted out of the conference room, scanning the office floor to find tanaka. however, you walk up to him, holding the ipad in your hands. “hey! ukai left to get booze. he said screw the rules, i guess.”

“oh, really?” he asked. “great. i’ll need it.”

“yankee swap was kinda chaotic, but look who came out on top?” you say excitedly, showing him your new gift.

“that’s nice.” suga said quickly so he could get back to his mission. “uh, where’s tanaka?”

“break room.” you reply.

“great, thanks.” suga swiftly walked past you, abruptly ending your conversation. you found it a little odd, but ended up shrugging it off and heading back to your desk.

in a flash, suga walked into the break room, finding tanaka right where he needed him. “hey, tanaka. i need to talk to you. it’s about the teapot.”

“nuh-uh.” tanaka shook his head. he knew exactly what suga was up to, but he didn’t quite know the reason why, he just knew suga wanted that teapot. “don’t even, suga. this is mine.”

“really?” suga sighed. he had to get it back, someway, somehow. “look, it has sentimental value, tanaka. can i buy it from you? i’m willing to pay a lot.”

“no. i want it. i'm going to use it.” tanaka held it close to his chest like it was a baby.

“you don't even drink tea.” suga said.

“true.” tanaka shrugged. “but it lowkey looks like i could make a bong out of it.”

oh god. this was definitely way worse than hinata having the teapot.

•••

“to think that my gift for y/n will be used for that…” suga began to say, taking a deep breath, almost overcome with emotion. “it’s just too much for me.”

•••

suga walked out of the break room, absolutely defeated he couldn’t get the teapot back. even worse, he found you showing off your new gift to ryo, crushing him even more. despite the pang in his heart, suga couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.

“this is awesome.” he heard ryo say.

“i know.” you reply. “look at the quality on this thing. i can watch stuff in 4k on this.”

“yeah, i was gonna get you one of these for christmas, but now i don't have to since you got one for free.” he said happily, thrilled at the thought of not having to spend that much money on you. it made suga want to barf. “i'm gonna save a ton of money.”

“so what are you going to get me instead?” you ask him.

“i don't know. probably like, an ugly sweater or something.” ryo shrugged.

you look to the camera in disgust before their attention turned to ukai coming back to the office with bottles of alcohol. as if you needed more of that in your life after what happened last time you drank.

“ho, ho, ho!” ukai greeted everyone, on theme with his silly outfit. “santa has come with spirits, as in booze.”

“we’re really not supposed to serve alcohol, ukai…” takeda said, trying to keep his job by the end of the day.

“no one cares, specs.” ukai scoffed, typical when it came to talking to takeda. “it’s a party and it’s christmas! if i can't throw a good party for my employees, then i’m the worst boss ever, and that contradicts with my world’s best boss awards! so, who wants a drink?”

practically everyone raised their hands instantly.

•••

“if i’ve learned anything from my time at japan pulp and paper, it’s that alcohol solves all your problems.” ukai grinned. what terrible advice, the crew thought. “everyone’s having a good time, and why is that? alcohol. i’m such a good influence!”

•••

despite the whole secret santa fiasco, everyone seemed to be having a good time. at least now you could all have fun, even if it was with the help of alcohol. well, plus the food too. that too always helped.

while christmas music blared and many of your coworkers danced on the office floor, suga found you sitting behind your desk, wondering why you weren’t partaking in the festive shenanigans.

“you know, you don't have to answer calls during a party.” he said cheekily. “just thought you should know.”

“oh, i know.” you say, revealing the teapot to suga, showing that it was now yours once again. “i was just checking out my new teapot here.”

“what?” suga gasped. “but how?”

“well, it ended up with nishinoya after tanaka traded it for kiyoko’s gift, so i didn’t have to do much convincing to get it back.” you explained to him. “i figured, you know, letting it go was really stupid of me because what should matter most is that the gift is from you, so i went to get it back. i hope you’re not mad at me...”

it was a christmas miracle for suga, even if you simply just made a trade with nishinoya. of course he would give it up for the ipad. thank god he did, and thank god you were willing to let go of such a lucrative gift for one made with love instead. words couldn’t describe the relief suga felt right now.

“i’m glad, actually. and not to be totally biased right now, but this is an amazing gift because it comes with bonus gifts.” suga said. “look inside.”

suga’s reassurance put you at ease, and as directed, you look inside the teapot, pulling out his infamous volleyball photo. you had never been so happy to have that teapot. if only you knew before. “oh my god. no way.”

•••

you proudly hold up your teapot for the documentary crew, a huge grin on your face, one that only suga could bring out of you. “yeah, i think i made the right choice.”

•••

you looked through the rest of the contents in the teapot, and while you weren’t looking, suga stole the card he wrote back and shoved it in his pocket. he just couldn’t bring himself to let you read it. maybe someday, but not today. the timing is just wrong.

“is this a chili pepper?” you ask as you hold up the toy.

“yeah, cause you’re banned from chili’s. look, it makes noises.” suga squeezed the chili pepper, accidentally ghosting his fingers over yours, and you jump from the squeaking sound coming out of the chili pepper toy. totally not from his soft touch either.

you felt like an idiot for giving this up before. it helped you learn to not judge a book by its cover. you knew that’s something you learn as a kid, but sometimes you have to learn something all over again as an adult. at least you came to your senses. there was still so much for you to figure out.

“you’ve outdone yourself, suga.” you smile and look into suga’s eyes.

“it’s about time i got you for secret santa.” suga replied. god, why did you have to be so beautiful?

“yeah, it really has.“ you say, holding your gaze before gulping when you think you’ve been staring at him for too long. little did you know, he wouldn’t have minded looking into your eyes a little longer. “merry christmas, suga.”

if suga has learned anything about christmas, it’s that it’s definitely not the time to tell people how you feel. he knew that now, no matter how much it hurt. in his eyes, if you had to take some time to come around to fully accepting the teapot, then you had to take your time accepting a life without ryo, potentially in favor for a life with him instead. the only question now was when? it was only a matter of time before suga will grow impatient.

sometimes suga felt like he was better off shoving his feelings down his throat, and you felt the same way. what you have is beautifully complicated, but suga swore that one day he’d tell you how he felt. it just had to be the perfect time.

“merry christmas, y/n.”

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[abbyromanoff]

hi i have a request if you’re able to write it :) how about g!p nat x reader where they’re avengers of course and they’re really close, they have this friends with benefit type thing so they have sex all the time, they’re both secretly in love with each other but are too scared to say anything, reader starts feeling sick and stuff so she takes a pregnancy test and is pregnant and is scared to tell nat but she does and nat is like really happy and they confess their love for each other smut and fluff :)

Not just friends

Pairings: Natasha x reader, Carol x reader

Summary: you and Nat are fwb but are both in love with one another. When you both have an argument that stops you from seeing one another you try to move on only to find out you’re pregnant.

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of vomiting (again? Damn why are all my stories including vomit), smut, fluff, angst, unprotected sex, hand jobs, fingering, cunilingus, jealousy, swearing, kissing, think that’s all

Word count: 3,586 (went a little overboard)

No one is allowed to steal my work, copyright it, or reblog as your own!!

Both of you laid there in bed panting out of breath, you had just finished multiple rounds of sex and were tired as hell. You wanted to lay there in Nat’s arms forever but you knew you couldn’t. Standing up you grabbed some of your clothes and went to leave the room, not giving Nat a second glance. You knew if you looked back at her you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from going into her arms once again, it was just a friends with benefits deal, nothing more. Nat sighed as you walked out, she didn’t want you to leave, not now not ever. She wanted to fall asleep holding you and wake up to your face every morning. She wanted more than your agreement but she also knew you probably wouldn’t want anything more than a good fuck. She went to bed that night dreaming of being with you, kissing you, even having a family with you. But for now she just has to stick to her imagination.

The next morning she went into the buildings large gym only to see you in the middle of a set. She came up behind you and watched for a few moments until you stopped to look at her.

“What are you looking at?” You asked with a small smile on your face. Even when she did nothing she always somehow put a grin to your face.

“Just was thinking about you, decided to come over here and see you. Hey I was thinking, maybe tonight we could have a little bit of fun? I know you might still be sore but i just can’t get enough of you.” She says as she pulls you into her by your hips. You sigh knowing you have to reject the offer, as much as you’d love to you know if this keeps going on you’ll only fall harder and harder.

“I can’t tonight Nat, I have a..date.” You whispered the last part, fearing her reaction.

“A date? With who?” She asks as she thinks of all the people it could be. You have been spending a lot of time with Wanda, but no not her. Maybe Maria? You’ve always been good friends with her. Before she could guess you were already answering her.

“With Carol. She asked me out so I said yes. Thought it might be nice to finally get out there you know?” You said as you stared at the ground, a nervous habit of yours. Nat felt like her heart was breaking into two, the person she loves going out with a teammate?

“What so you’re choosing her over me?” She says the words before she could stop herself.

“What do you mean Nat? Can you really not go one night without putting your dick in me?” You huff out, you don’t mean to be so aggressive but it’s pissing you off how Nat thinks she can just play with your feelings like this.

“It’s not about the sex it’s about the fact that you’re choosing someone you barely know over me! Carol just wants to get in your pants like everyone else!” Nat yells in frustration.

“What so you’re calling me a whore now is that is? If I’m so much of a whore why’d you even agree to have meaningless sex with me anyways? So you could fulfill your needs? Well guess what, I’m done, you can cancel this friends with benefits shit because it’s over.” You walked out of the room slamming the door on your way. Nat didn’t mean for you to take it that way, of course you’re not a whore, you’re so much more than that. She took out her frustration and anger on the punching bag and left after two hours, knuckles bleeding and bruised. When it was dinner time she went to the main room only to see you in a beautiful red dress, the one she helped you pick out a while back. She stared at you with a loving gaze but you ignored it, still mad at her for earlier. Nat watched as her ‘friend’ stood up and linked arms with you, giving you a kiss on the cheek as you both left the room with smiles on your faces. Nat wanted to call out to you and stop you from going, but she knew she didn’t deserve you. Carol would probably be better for you anyways. She tried her best not to think too much about you that night, but she couldn’t help but think of your date with Carol. What if she was kissing you right now, or touching you. She hated the thought of someone else touching you, especially someone like Carol. Ones who slept around with multiple woman and left them on the side of the street after a good fuck. Her thoughts broke as she heard laughter down the hall, laughter she could recognize as your own. Peaking her head out of the door she looked to your room only to see you and Carol making out, her hands all over you and pushing you into your room. She went back to her bed before you could see her. That night she balled her eyes out realizing that she lost you.

It’s been two weeks and four days since you last saw Nat, she was sent onto a mission the day after your date with Carol. As much as you liked the blonde woman you knew your feelings for Nat would always be stronger. Every-time you’d kiss her the redhead was in your mind, and when she fucked you all you could think about was the other woman. Carol knew this too, she’d act like she didn’t but she saw the way your head shot up whenever Nat was mentioned. If she’s being completely honest the main reason she was still seeing you was to get over her break up with Valkyrie. The two woman loved each other dearly but it was hard with everything going on, so they took a break. Even when they still loved one another it was too difficult to work. So when she heard that you were single she took her shot. You were an attractive person and had a great personality, so why not go out with you. These more recent days Carol has been taking care of you because you weren’t feeling well. In the mornings you were puking, you couldn’t eat certain foods as they made you nauseous and you were more tired than usual. You knew these were all signs of pregnancy but you refused to believe it, you were on birth control for a reason. You were terrified of having a child. It’s not that you didn’t like them but you’re only 23 years old and an avenger. If you did have the kid you’d most likely be too busy with work and wouldn’t be able to care for them properly. On day two of being sick you gave in and took multiple pregnancy tests. You sat anxiously on your bed, checking the timer every few seconds to see how much longer you had. You prayed it would be negative, what would you tell Nat or Carol, ‘Hey carol by the way I’m pregnant oh and Nat it’s yours!’ Yeah, that wouldn’t go well. After what felt like hours the timer went off and you finally stood up. Taking slow steps to the bathroom you prepared for the worst, flipping over the tests and looking at the two stripes. Tears rolled down your face as you held you head in your hands. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, you weren’t meant to get pregnant after breaking it off with the mother. Your girlfriend entered the room, seeing you not in bed she looked into the bathroom finding you crying over the sink. She tried to calm you down by holding you but it only caused more tears. She was confused on what caused this until she saw the tests. Letting out a small ‘oh’ she realized why you were so upset.

“I’m so sorry Carol, this wasn’t supposed to happen I promise.” You said as best as you could, hiccuping through the sentence.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” After a long pause she asked, “is it Nat’s?” You nodding was the only response she needed.

“You still love her don’t you?”

“What? No-of course not!” You replied to her question. As hard as you tried to lie she could tell that wasn’t the truth.

“It’s okay Y/N, I understand. If I’m being completely honest I’m still in love with Valkyrie. And as much as I loved our time together we both love other people. I’m still always going to be here for you but as a friend. Now why don’t you go get your girl.” She finished with a smile, urging you to go after Nat and fight for her back. You agreed and thanked her, hugging her goodbye and running to Nat’s room, even if she wasn’t there you’d wait for her for as long as you’d need too. When you heard the door handle wiggling after an hour of waiting you sat up straight, preparing for her to yell at you just like you deserved. When Nat entered the room to find you sitting there she was shocked to say the least, but remembering what happened she kept up a hard stance.

“What are you doing here?” She asked after an awkward moment of just staring at one another.

“I needed to talk to you.” You answered honestly.

“Would your girlfriend be happy with us talking?” She wanted to make you feel bad, she wanted you to feel the pain she felt.

“Nat please stop.” You begged. You don’t want to start an argument, you just wanted to get her back and apologize for all you did. She stood there staring at you waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t she decided to speak up instead,

“I think it’s best if you lea-“ “I’m pregnant!” You rushed out before thinking about your words. Realizing what you said you put your hand over your mouth and looked anywhere but her gaze.

“You’re-you’re what?” “I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.” You repeated as tears came back into your eyes.

“Are you sure I mean-“ being cut off once again you spoke in a slightly harsher tone. “Yes I’m sure! I took several tests and they were all positive. You can even ask Carol, she was there too.” Scoffing at the blondes name she went to the bathroom and opened the bottom cabinets. When she came up empty handed for whatever it was she was searching for she stood up and grabbed her keys heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked in a panicked voice. You had a feeling she wouldn’t take the news well but you didn’t think she’d leave.

“I’m going to the store to buy a pregnancy test for you. Stay here for now.” She said without looking at you. You stopped her hand from enclosing on the door and stuffed your own hand in your pocket searching for the item. Pulling out three blue and white strips you handed them to Nat, proving that you weren’t lying and that you are in fact carrying her child. She stared at the test for what felt like hours trying to process it. She put the sticks down and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in a large hug. You both let out all of your emotions and cried into one another, feeling the relief of finally getting to be with one another again. She leaned back and stared at your lips, trying to get approval to kiss you. When you gave her a nod she leaned in and was about to connect her lips with yours when she stopped. You looked at her confused until she muttered out ‘Carol’, you knew what she was thinking and tried to reassure her,

“Don’t worry, we broke up. We both loved other people and realized it was best just to stay friends.” Once you finished speaking she leaned down to kiss you, this time not stopping. She held your face with one hand as the other held your hip. Once you finally broke apart you rested your foreheads together, it was something she used to tell you she loved you. She pulled you back into her as she kissed down your neck, leaving little bite marks to prove you’re hers. You brought her face back up to kiss her once again as she used her hands to roam your body, taking off your shirt in the process. You both quickly undressed each other until you only had your panties on while she was left with only her boxers. Nat was slowly walking you to her bed, pushing you down onto it softly as she laid above you. She stared at you with love in her eyes and you reciprocated, staring at her body like she was a goddess. You traced over little cuts and bruises that marked her body from the mission making her slightly wince. You let out a small apology but continued to stare at them with worry. She lifted your chin up so your eyes met her own,

“I’m okay now, it’s just a few little injuries but I’ll be fine okay? No need to worry your pretty little head about it.” You blushed from her choosing of words and left the topic but made a mental note to take care of those later. She continued her work on your body, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites from your neck to pelvis bone. She could feel your wet lips through your panties as she traced her fingers over it. You moaned in response to her teasing and begged her to continue.

“Please Tasha! Just fuck me already!”

“You’re going to have to beg better than that baby.” If you knew anything about Nat it would be that she is the biggest tease in bed, always wanting to make you beg for what she gave you. You let out an irritated groan while she chuckled and continued her tracing of your underwear. You knew she could go on for hours if you didn’t give in so you gave her what she wanted,

“Please I’m begging you Nat, I need you to fuck me! Just lick me up please.” You said with clear desperation in your voice. Nat finally gave in and moved your underwear to the side, giving a long lick up your folds moaning as your juices hit her tastebuds. Her hand trails up to your chest where they’re met with your hard nipples. She pinches the buds between her fingers as her other joins her tongue on your pussy. Using her fingers to prod at your entrance she slowly enters you with two and lets you adjust to the feeling. Once she gets your nod of approval she starts to slowly go in and out of you while sucking your clit, giving you the most amount of pleasure you’ve felt in weeks. Your moans grew as did her pace, she removed her mouth from your clit to give you a sloppy kiss. Her tongue prodded at your lips asking to enter, you could taste yourself as she made out with you. She soon replaced your mouth with your tits, sucking and playing with them. Her fingers only grew faster each and every second, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Nat! I’m gonna-gonna” you couldn’t finish your sentence as it became too hard to speak. Nat could tell you were close with how you were clenching around her. She removed your nipple from her mouth to speak, leaving a small trail of spit between the two.

“Come on baby, cum for me. Make a mess all over my fingers.” Her words triggered your orgasm, you let out a small scream as you finished around her fingers. Letting you ride out your high she slowed down her pace until you calmed down. Removing her fingers you let out a small wince at the loss of contact but soon felt them prodding open your mouth. You sucked off your juices as she watched in amazement. Once you let go of her hand she immediately sat you down on her lap. She still was yet to remove her boxers and you could see a little bit of wetness from the tip of her cock that was leaking pre-cum. You pulled of her boxers and threw them to the side with the rest of your clothes. You grabbed her cock with your hands and slowly jerked her off.

“Fuck I missed this cock so much. Missed it ruining my pussy, missed it in my mouth and hands.” You said in a low breath, still stroking her painfully hard cock. She whimpered into your neck as your warm hands only brought her closer to the edge. You could see the way she shook and was quick to replace your hand with you pussy. Lining up your entrance with her dick you lowered yourself onto her, feeling that same pleasure you longed for. Once you both adjusted she set her hands on your hips to try and control your movements.

“Uh uh Natty, let me be in charge tonight, you deserve it.” She nodded and let you choose your pace. Moans and whimpers left her mouth as you slowly rode her, trying to bask in as much pleasure as possible.

“Fuck! You feel so good around me Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you.” Her sweet words were able to bring a smile to your face. Both of you could feel your highs getting closer as you went faster on her dick.

“детка, я кончу (baby, gonna cum)” She yelled, you loved when she spoke Russian. She has mentioned before that when she was feeling so much pleasure in bed she often spoke in a different language. She always thought it was weird but you loved it, hearing her speak with that accent just turned you on so much.

“Shit! Fill me up sweetheart, wanna feel your cum inside of me.” Saying this only turned her on more, she loved the thought of filling you up and watching her cum leak out of you. Thinking about it now it’s not much of a surprise that you ended up pregnant.

“Don’t worry I will. I’ll fill you up with so much fucking cum that you’ll end up having twins. God I can’t wait to see this stomach grow all round with my babies, these tits full of milk.” She emphasized her words with a hand on your stomach and a squeeze to your breasts. Not long after you felt her cum spill into you making you squirt all over her stomach. Once you both calmed down you looked at her face only to see a large grin covering it.

“What?” “Nothing. Just that I made you squirt.” She said feeling confident in herself. You looked down to see that she was in fact telling the truth.

“Crap, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” You rushed out multiple apologies to which she only shushed you and assured you that it was okay, and that she in fact loved it. You both sat in a comfortable silence until you broke it,

“I’m sorry Nat.” “For squirting? I already told you baby it’s fine-“ you don’t let her finish before you’re interrupting her sentence. Trying to make it clear how sorry you really are.

“No, about everything. I only went out with Carol because I thought you just wanted sex and I wanted more than that. So I tried to move on from you, distancing myself and being with her. But whenever I’d kiss her or sleep with her all I pictured was you. I love you so much and I understand if you can’t forgive me but I just needed you to know how sorry I am.” You said, hoping she’ll be able to forgive you.

“Oh Y/N. I understand, I was a complete idiot and thought you were the one who only wanted sex. I was a jerk in the gym to you and I shouldn’t have insisted that you’re a whore because I promise you you’re not. You’re so much more than that and I guess I thought you deserved better than me so I didn’t run after you when you went out with Carol. Instead I was a coward and ran from my problems, I asked Fury to put me on a mission and I left. I guess I just couldn’t bare seeing you with Carol knowing that I could’ve stopped it. I’m so sorry.” Both of you were spilling out apologies to one another at this point. You both knew that it wasn’t only the other in the wrong but themselves too. That night you tended to her wounds and she led you into her bed, this time not just for sex. This time it was so she could hold you and kiss you goodnight. She kissed your stomach as a way of talking to the baby and held you in her arms, fearing that if she let go it would all just be a dream. When she woke up to see your beautiful face she knew it wasn’t just a dream, this was her life now. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.